#This could also work as a crossover with something else

[mantisgodsdomain]

Finished sketch that we'll... probably line and color tomorrow. Sophodra is, of course, from @humansbgone - and our apologies for the closely-spaced pings, we've gotten ourselves on a bit of a kick and we're seeing how far that gets us.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 

Has it always been that way? 

Have you always been on his mind? 

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 

He needs to get this out of his system. 

He needs to get you out of his system. 

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 

“Blondie,” he nods. 

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks. 

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 

He swats your hand away, snorting. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 

“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 

And this is where the real teasing begins. 

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 

Holy fuck. 

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 

He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 

So what is left for him to do? 

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat. 

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 

“See ya,” he chuckles. 

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. 

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 

Images of you… half naked. 

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 

And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 

Fuck. 

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 

A game. 

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 

Nothing that he could possibly do will. 

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 

Yeah. Tomorrow. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

[limeade-l3sbian]

Who was Kagney Linn Necessary?

(the gofundme for her memorial/funeral will be at the end.)

Kagney Linn Necessary was born in Harris County, Texas in 1987, and raised in St. Joseph, Missouri and in Ridgway, Pennsylvania. [x]

In her early years, she moved to California with ambitions of becoming an actress and a singer but entered work as an exotic dancer before signing with LA Direct Models, a pornographic agency. Karter entered the adult film industry in September 2008.[x]

But that wasn't the entirety of who Kagney was. At face value, the only information I could find with a quick search was the basic information above from Wikipedia. All anyone seemed to know about her was who she was when she was in the "industry." I wanted to see what I could find about her, the person. Not Kagney Linn Karter, but Kagney Linn Necessary.

I raked through interviews she had, her personal social media accounts, and any other articles that I could find just to find any little facts about her that I could.

I thought about omitting her time within the porn industry to focus solely on everything else except that. But I feel it would be tasteless to keep it out. I think it needs to be mentioned. I think it is important to show that women pulled into the porn industry are not these separate beings from any other woman with dreams. This was a 36 year old woman who was just like any other woman who was preyed upon.

Necessary released an EP, The Crossover, in 2018. In 2022, Karter released her debut album, titled The Take Over. [x] She would post clips of her singing covers of songs as well as songs from her upcoming EP on her Instagram.

In 2022, she began learning how to play the piano, even posting a video of her progress.

Necessary was also a recovering addict. In 2021, she posted about the things that helped her stay clean and how she was pleased at having a second chance at life. In an interview, she was intentionally vague about the substances she used, only referring to them as "candy" and "a little bit of everything." But with no insurance or money for rehab, she opted to detox herself at her parents home, working at their tanning salon for free in exchange for "produce."

She moved from Los Angeles to Ohio in 2019 and got involved with pole dancing fitness studios before being involved the opening of one in Akron, called Alchemy Pole Fitness. She posted many videos of herself having fun and practicing new/old moves.

In November 2023, she was posting pictures of her new house and how well it was coming together,

[their website leads to a website called Alchemy Space Studios and says that it was founded and run by a separate woman. But upon looking up the LLC for the business, Kagney is named as the registrant and she is named as the owner of the space in two separate articles.]

In 2015, Carter claimed musician Chris Brown paid her $2,500 to be his escort. She reportedly tweeted things like 'I WILL NEVER F*** A WOMAN BEATER EW DISGUSTING' and 'HE IS PURE EVIL' about Brown.

I just felt like adding that because what a queen.

From her students from the studio and friends, she was known to love animals, including her dog, Murphy, and had a deep devotion to the community she was cultivating in Ohio. She was known to be fearless and empathetic, creating her studio as a place for people to feel safe and accepted.

These were the things I could find of her from her personal accounts and the people who loved her. She wasn't an object that will be missed for what "uses" it had. She was a woman who had dreams, who had a community who love her, who had a husband who loves her, dogs she cared for and loved who loved her, and a mother who loves her. I didn't want her story to be another reblog of a lost life.

I know this post is sporadic and clunky, but I wanted to just grab any information I could without crossing boundaries (ex. contacting the family or something tasteless like that). I just wanted to share what she had already shared with the world.

Her friend, Megan Lee, has posted a gofundme that has already surpassed their goal. But I would still suggest donating if you are able. Rest in peace, Kagney Linn Necessary. 💜

[evilminji]

Back at it again with the BNHA crossover Ponderings!

Nedzu is LITERALLY one of THE smartest beings on the planet, right? Like... he's probably on some internationally recognized list of Top Planetary IQs? Which is why Japan let's him get away with so much?

Cause they REALLY fucked him over, he has the power to leave, and that would be really, REALLY bad Brain Drain wise/politically for the Japanese Government? (Also pls don't become a Supervillian we literally can not afford that, Mr. Nedzu Sir? Etc etc)

You think he has... like? Chats? With the OTHER top intellects? Some kid in Siberia with the New Super Intelligence Quirk his parents can't begin to even handle, gets put in history's WEIRDEST group chat? I like to think so.

But the REASON I ask this?

What hero do you call? For Weird Shit in international waters?

Suspicious, floating, weirdly two dimensional and HIGHLY radioactive... corrosive... green goop? Rings? Orbs? CAN it be an orb if it's two dimensional? It certainly LOOKS like there is depth to it... somehow...

A THING. In the sky.

Shouldn't be there, man. This is a shipping lane. It's scaring the people on passing ships. No one knows what Quirk could have made this. Might be a trafficking victim's call for help. Might be a first Quirk Use mishap. They need to know what it IS and how to get rid of it.

They go the normal routes first. Doesn't work. Okay, call in some professionals. Kinda pricey, but no big. Right? Doesn't work. Okaaaay, call in a SPECIALIST. REAL pricey, but this thing is holding up international trade, making people in fancy ass suit all Nervous(TM).

Doesn't Work.

Specialist tells um to not to bother with calling anyone else on their normal list. Is looking at the green goo like it spat on his mother and called his dog a whore. They would prefer he NOT make that facial expression. That is a facial expression that will get them yelled at by their bosses. Fuck(TM).

Now Politics(TM) are involved. People want to STUDY the green goo. Harness it for dubious and unknown green goo experiments. Poke it with their Quirk to see what'll happen. There's fuckin REPORTER with no concept of self-preservation, trying to get CLOSER to the RADIOACTIVE POISON GOO.

Fuckin Heros have shown up.

Why are you bastards even HERE. What? Are you peacocks gonna PUNCH it? Get off their rig! Stop posing in front of the GOO!

Then? Oh thank GOD. The SMART people show up. Certified, highest grade, triple refined, PREMIUM Nerds(TM). The WAY above our pay grade folks. We're SAVED! Can we PLEASE go home now? We are just ocean cleaners! Our job is debris! Not weird GOO!

Enter, stage Super Cool Helicopters? The Elite Nerds of Earth. Of which Nedzu is one. Since Japan is closest. And it's a school weekend! He had some time.

And?

Ha ha... Thanks, he hates it! Nedzu's stoat brain is SCREAMING and he wants NOTHING to do with...? What he is somehow CERTAIN is a floating pit of Death! Interesting effect. Anyone getting that or just him?

Then? Some hot head on loan to Korea from the states? Spots something. SomeONE. And does he TELL the newly arrived professionals? So they may do a risk assessment? Figure out a way to rescue this individual SAFELY? Of course not!

Said hot head has supposedly indescribable chains! So he just flings them rights on in! Grabbing the boy from the center of the portal, pulling him free, and in the process? Immediately destabilizing it. Causing it to collapse down towards everyone bellow.

He also then proceeds to DROP the young lad, in his alarm at this entirely predictable outcome.

Right. Into. The Ocean.

A boy, who is dressed in filthy medical scrubs, haunting familiar in a way nothing should EVER be again, and entirely unconscious. Plunge down into the briny deeps and bitter cold. Alone. Abandoned. Death, thick and viscous, losing form and raining down like bile.

Everyone saving themselves.

Ah, he rather liked this suit.

The salt water ruins it. The droplets of Green, burn like molten glass each time they touch him. He will likely have at least a few new scars, after today. Assuming this is not the end of him. But he swims fast. The boy sinking slower then his size would suggest he should. He grabs hold and arcs, dragging them both from beneath the fallout of yet another humans hubris.

He does not stop swimming. Not until he knows he is near the helicopter. He is thankful, that he dragged Aizawa along. The man takes one look at his serious expression, the state of his rescued young friend, and merely hauls them both out of the water and into the machine.

Time to go.

They saw nothing, it seems. And there is nothing to be found.

The boy does not wake. Not for quite a while. Long enough, that Nedzu, perhaps unwisely, has grown attached. Is considering adoption. If only too terrorize a few goverment bodies. And... well... the boy will need some who UNDERSTANDS. And the scars paint a very specific sort of tale. But first, the most important question, when beginning these things...

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?"

@the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter @hdgnj

[alwaysakin]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfic Rec

Guys I have so much useless fanfic knowledge -- one of my friends asked me for a list of Buffy fics and this happened.

Non-Buffy Centric, One-Shot Fics

Potential Friend by srmcd1 - a cute little ficlet that looks at what might have happened if Jesse lived.

Age Difference by Amina - for all the Oz fans out there! A time-travelling Oz gives Buffy a new perspective on life and relationships. Slightly Angel-bashing.

All that I wanted was just to be haunted by you by chasingfictions - After the events of "The Body," Jenny's ghost bullies Giles into moving in with the Summers girls. This one made me BAWL.

Appropriate conduct by The_Eclectic_Bookworm - an increasingly angry series of memos between Principal Synder & Jenny, Giles, and the other teachers of Sunnydale High. Absolutely hilarious.

i belong to time, you belong to me by chasingfictions - Dru knows when she meets Spike, that he will fall in love with a slayer. She forgets, until she doesn't. Beautiful, poetic, and very Dru.

One Girl in All the World by zedpm - a trans!Buffy AU, where she was born in a boy's body and is still the slayer. A beautifully done AU, with Oz and (surprisingly! Riley) as particular standouts. Minor Spike/Buffy.

The Holy Grail of Buffy Fics: Long, With a Focus on an Ensemble Cast. Absolute Masterpieces.

hit rewind by untiljanuary - Hands down, the best Buffy fic I've ever read. Buffy (from some time in season 6, but unclear when), is sent back in time to season 3. What makes it so interesting is that it's from everyone else's perspective! The author writes Cordelia, Willow, Faith, Angel and Spike in particular so well. Lots of interesting character work, though the plot hasn't deviated too much from canon so far.

Ships: Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordelia, Willow/Tara, Anya/Xander. The Buffy/Angel ends on mutual terms.

two roads diverged (and that has made all the difference) by RoseyPoseyPie - a Buffy season 5/Angel season 2 crossover. Hoping to escape Glory, the Scoobies end up in Pylea with the Fang Gang. This fic is absolutely hilarious (the scene where everyone gets high and drunk together is a notable standout). The author writes Anya, Lorne and Cordelia in particular super well. Dawn and Angel's dynamic is also amazing.

Ships: Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordelia, Anya/Xander, Willow/Tara.

don't know how to stick around, but I wanna by chasingfictions - a series in an alternate universe where Faith, instead of going to prison, joins Angel Investigations. Very Fang Gang centric, but really builds up their family bond. Darla, Faith, and Wesley were stand outs to me in this.

Ships: eventual Faith/Buffy, and minor canon pairings. Faith briefly pursues other girls, including Darla.

Best Spuffy Centric Fic

wouldn't it be nice? by SummerFrost - an alternative universe, where the will-be-done spell in season 4 goes a little differently, and Spike and Buffy start a slow crawl towards friendship that becomes... something. So soft and sweet. Has two sequels, and the season 6 one in particular is WONDERFUL.

Every Letter That You Write Me by othellia - the obligatory fandom soulmate AU. Young Buffy is absolutely adorable in this one, and Spike and Buffy's relationship is bittersweet, raw, and believable.

Choices by lafillesauvage - An AU. After Season 5 of Angel, Spike becomes human. Angel does not. Buffy still chooses Angel, and these are the consequences. Slightly excessive Angel bashing, but the characterization of Buffy and Spike, and little notes like Buffy's relationship with Giles being slowly fixed and Willow getting a non-Kennedy girlfriend are great! Buffy/Angel with a happy Spike/Buffy ending.

The Darkling by OffYourBird - the iconic time travel Spuffy fic. Buffy goes back in time and meets Spike... in the 1970s. His slow path to redemption starts differently, with tons of interesting changes in the timeline. Be warned, this one is LONG and smutty. Shout out for making me believe Giles/Anya could work as a couple!

Inside Man by HollyDB - An Angel season 5 fic. Spike calls Buffy. This shows all the things that change when Buffy has a spy on the inside of the Fang Gang. Follows canon up until the last episode, but provides fun context.

Short, Cute Cangel Fics

give them all that they can drink by eagle_eyes. The one where Cordelia is ace. Amazingly written, and the Cangel relationship is so soft and believable.

Another Chance by NikitaDreams - After the events of Angel: the Series, Cordelia travels back in time. Focus on Cangel and Connor. Lots of cute family dynamics.

Halloween Happily Ever After by GeckoGirl89 - cute, mutual pining between Angel and Cordelia in season 3. Angst with a happy ending. Really highlights how oblivious Cangel were to each other's feelings.

[ryunumber]

Spooky from Spookys House Of Jumpscares/Spookys Jumpscare Mansion

Spooky has a Ryu Number of 5/4/does not have a Ryu Number.

(explanation below)

Look, it's complicated. Things will be more concrete when Cross Impact hits Early Access.

Fair warning: this explanation is a bit more involved than normal, because the research hole this sent me down had me sincerely doubting my own base competence.

So, from the top: Spooky's only eligible appearance is in her own game, Spooky's Jump Scare Mansion née House of Jump Scares, as her only other appearance, period, seems to be as a trophy in Indie Pogo.

Naturally, this makes SJSM's specimens as the only connecting points. I've identified three that could work:

Unknown Specimen 1 is just White Face from IMSCARED.

This seems to be a dead end, as White Face's only other eligible appearance seems to be in the Nightmare Mode of Cooking Companions, as part of a menagerie of other horror game characters, including SJSM's own Specimen 6. But all of those also seem to be dead ends, and Specimen 6 just gets back to where we started, so that's probably no good.

How about Unknown Specimen 5?

Named Lisa. Sure looks quite a bit like Lisa from P.T. and once-prospective Silent Hills. Let's say it's that Lisa. What else has Lisa been in?

Apparently just P.T., which wouldn't be altogether unsurprising given, you know, all that happened with Silent Hills. Even the Lisa decoys for Metal Gear Solid V showcased in the Tokyo Game Show 2014 trailer didn't make it to the final game.

But there are still other P.T. references that did make it. Namely, that pleasant radio transmission, interruptions and all, can be heard from some radios in MGSV.

Now, given that audio-only appearances are broadly eligible, you could make a case that whoever's reading in this transmission is a character themself, which would in turn connect Lisa to The Phantom Pain, at which point calculating the Ryu Number is just a matter of hashing out who exactly is and is not in MGSV. The only issue I have with making this connection is that the audio is basically reused wholesale from P.T., which arguably makes it more in line with an archival recording, which is not eligible, than bespoke radio chatter, which is eligible, but hey, whatever, I've peddled dodgier. Why the hell not.

So in the search of a route with less caveats, let's consider what I've identified as the last possible eligible connection, Specimen 8. This cervine bundle of fun can be seen in Lost in Vivo as part of Lost Tape 3.

It turns out there's another character in Lost in Vivo who's been in something else: Sotiris. It also turns out that the "something else" in question is, uh,

the EEK3 2020 Virtual Show Floor. Which, to the best of my knowledge, is never referred to as a game, so if that matters to you, then we're done, and Spooky either has the aforementioned route through Lisa or nothing.

If you're willing to say that the virtual show floor is a game, which does not seem to be an unpopular opinion, then good news! There's a clear path to Ryu. You just have to go through Skully, who cameos in Toree 3D,

to the titular Toree, who's a guest character in Lunistice,

to Kit, the main character of Lunistice, who cameos in CrossCode,

to Lea, whose Ryu Number of 2 is already established, which gives Spooky a final Ryu Number of I'm sorry, I'm being handed a note.

Oh. Well fuck me, then, for not considering that the realities of game development could lead to a scenario wherein a character from an in-progress game could make cameo appearances in other games, only to be scrapped entirely before their would-be source game is released. Clearly, this is what the kids refer to as a "skill issue".

And the best part? This chain is so long that I'm genuinely expecting to have overlooked something really obvious that gives a shorter number, because the documentation I found on indie-ass indie horror game crossovers is spotty. So if you have any information that could shorten this more substantial than "White Face is graffiti in the full release of FAITH", send it my way. I'd rather be definitely wrong than dubiously correct.

Anyway, Toree's set to be playable in Cross Impact, so when that's released to the wider public most of this nonsense I just spewed at you will actually come into play. Until then, make of all of this what you will. If you'll excuse me, I need to go fucking distort.

[five-rivers]

Season of the Skies

I started playing a game called Sky: Children of the Light recently, and although this isn't a crossover, it's definitely inspired by the vibes of that. It's a cute game!

Also, based on the feedback I got on AO3, there seems to be a significant overlap between the Phandom and Sky: Cotl players? Is that the case?

.

Reality had broken a month ago, and Danny was having the time of his life.  

He leaped lightly from rooftop to treetop and back again, gravity a dreamy afterthought.  The tiles and bark were rough beneath his bare feet, but not so rough he regretted not wearing shoes.  His impacts shook loose pollen, glitter, and a few stray petals, but did the trees no harm.  On the roofs he was silent, and no one came out to yell at him, but the window glass chimed with flashes of light.

The colors around him were bright and soft. Easy to look at, easy to fall into. The sky above was marbled with dawn-colored clouds and stars caught among distant nebulae.  Light and color were some of the first things to break, and Danny wasn't sorry to see light pollution go.  Most Everything glowed, now, and stargazing would have been terrible if eyes still worked the same way.  

At his next jump, this one taking him up a good ten feet, the feather-soft edge of the shawl he was wearing flared out behind him, brushing his arms.  The shawl was huge on him.  An old project of his great-grandmother's, it had been made with the typical Fenton girth in mind.  Honestly, it fit him more like a cape than a shawl, but he liked it that way.  

He landed safely and straightened the cape.  His dad’s needlepoint hobby had been inherited from her, so the dark blue fabric was covered in fine embroidery, lace, and tiny glass beads in shades of clear, pale blue, and white.  Great Grandma Fenton hadn't been into ghosts the same way the current Fentons were, but she'd been into something, so the patterns were strange.  Icicles, snowflakes, stars, clouds, and trees competed with lightning, runes and sigils, and strange, spirit-like creatures.  

“Hey!” shouted someone from the street below.  “Hey, Fentwerp!  What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Ah.  Dash.  Charming.  Danny leaned over the edge of the roof.  “What does it look like I'm doing?” he asked agreeably.  

“Getting your dumb nerd self killed is what it looks like,” said Dash, glowering up at Danny, his face turning red.

There.  See.  That's what Danny didn't understand.  No one else seemed willing to experiment with how the world was now.  They were all operating under the old rules, or, worse, looking for ways to fix things, as if the new world wasn't better than the old.  

Sure, it had been scary the first few days.  The suddenness.  The uncertainty.  The way systems they had relied on for so long had stuttered or failed outright.  Danny knew people had been hurt, that, in some places, they were still getting hurt.  He had been one of those people, having been in the hospital when the change rippled through the world, a result of an equipment malfunction in his parents’ lab.  

Maybe his opinion would be different if he was still getting hurt.  But as it was… why would he ever want to go back to how things were?  Why would he want to leave this world, where the colors were soft and bright, and the light sang?  Why would he want to leave this world where the air itself seemed to bear him up?  Where the possibilities seemed limitless?

There was so much more potential for good, with the world as it was than as it had been.  So much less potential for harm.  This was a more finished version of the world.  All the rough edges were gone, and filled with wonder.  He could feel it.

“Get down here!” demanded Dash, when Danny didn't respond.  

“No,” said Danny.  

“Get down here or else.”

“Or else what?” asked Danny, genuinely curious.  Dash couldn't get up here.  No one else could, as far as Danny knew. They hadn't taken the time to work out the new rules for gravity. 

Dash clenched his hands into fists, then stooped to grab a fairly large rock.  Danny, seeing no reason to just let Dash throw it at him, left.  

“Hey!” shouted Dash.  “Hey!  Freakton!  Get back here!”

Names like that were a lot less distressing when the people using them had no power to hurt you.  

Danny continued on his path upwards, touching on higher and higher buildings.  It was tough to get the proper amount of momentum to make some of his jumps, especially since he'd stopped to talk to Dash, but he managed to make all of them, and soon he was standing on top of the tallest building in Amity Park.  

In the center of the roof was a small tree, a sapling.  It hadn't been there the first time Danny had made it up here, and it had grown rapidly since then.  Next time he came, it'd probably be taller than he was. 

For now, though, Danny knelt to check the roots where they grew through a widening crack in the building's roof.  He'd warned the people in the building (he had warned everyone in buildings that had suddenly found themselves with roof trees), but he hadn't heard that anyone had done anything about it, and the roof trees felt friendly to him, so he hadn't pushed the issue.  From the descriptions and pictures Sam had given him, this one seemed healthy enough.  

He pulled a bottle from his backpack and gave the tree a generous sprinkle.  Then he stood up, gave the crown of leaves an affectionate ruffle, and made his way to the edge of the roof.

The city spread out in all directions below him, vibrant and changing.  Towards the edges of town, some buildings had lifted off their foundations, becoming floating islands.  Across the viridian, iridescent forest to the north, he could see blue-bright-gray flashes of Lake Eerie.  Fentonworks was easily visible off to the west, silver dishes and spires chased with green halos.  The parks bloomed with flowers both alien and familiar, vines trailing up into the air, trees growing explosively fast.  A breeze from behind turned his attention south, and he saw high clouds letting down shimmering curtains of rain.  

It wasn’t like Amity Park had been drab and horrible before, but why would anyone want to go back?

He looked away, back down at the street far below him.  Steeling himself, he grasped the edges of the shawl, he spread his arms wide.  

“Time to lift off,” he said, quietly.  “T-minus ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two–” Where he would have said one, he instead inhaled deeply.  Where he would have said zero, he jumped.  

For a heart-stopping moment, he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake, if he’d made an error in his calculations, if reality had chosen that moment to reassert itself and he was about to drop like a rock.  

The moment passed quickly.  He was flying.  Or, at least, gliding.  

He laughed, and flapped his ‘wings.’  The shawl snapped behind him and gave him a small amount of lift.  

He was doing it.  He was doing it.  

And now that he was doing it, it felt as natural as breathing.  All that planning, all those calculations, all that running, climbing, and jumping–

He could fly.  

Oh, maybe it wasn’t as impressive as it would have been in the old world, where gravity was a cruel mistress.  But it was still flight, unpowered, human flight, and no one he knew of had done this before.  

He laughed, and banked to the side, flying in spirals.  He wasn’t brave enough to try a loop, yet, but he would, eventually, when he learned more about this.  

His spirals took him over the park, the school, the mall, even the Nasty Burger.  But he was losing altitude, his arms were getting tired, and he knew that if he got too close to the ground, gravity would get him again.  Not to the point of hurting him at all, but he didn’t want to land just anywhere after all this work.  

He tipped his wings westward, and started gliding home, pumping his ‘wings’ as infrequently as he could get away with.  He didn’t quite make it all the way back to his front door, but he got close, just a few houses down the street.  He rubbed his shoulders.  That was going to leave him sore.  He’d have to work out and practice more if he wanted to fly any real distance.  He'd also need a way to take off that didn’t involve climbing the tallest building in town. 

The front door of Fentonworks slammed open, revealing a pale Jack and a furiously pink Maddie.

“Daniel James Fenton!  What do you think you're doing?”

Danny looked down at his bare feet, then back up at his parents.  “Walking?”

Maddie sucked a breath in between her teeth.  “Inside,” she said

Danny hurried to obey, taking the steps up to the door two at a time and squeezing past her and Jack to get into the house.  Maddie closed the door behind him. 

“So, um,” said Danny, shuffling from foot to foot.  “What, um.  I thought you guys were going to be working all day today?”

“On the Ops Center,” said Jack.  “Not in the la– Not downstairs.”

Danny made note of the near-slip but didn’t comment on it.  He was already in trouble.  He didn’t need to remind them that the lab didn’t exactly exist anymore and make their mood worse.  

“Oh,” he said.  “What were you–?”

“Never mind what we were doing.  What were you doing?  What were you thinking, jumping off a building like that?  You could have died?”

“Or been seriously hurt!”

“But I wasn’t!  I’m fine.  I planned it all out, and it worked.”

“And it shouldn’t have!” shouted Jack and Maddie at the same time.  

Danny blinked up at them.  “What?”

Jack explained.  “We’ve been tracking the changes to gravity, too, Danny.  We’ve been measuring it, measuring all the changes, to see what those darn ghosts did.”

Danny held back a sigh.  There still wasn’t any sign that ghosts had done this, or even that ghosts existed.  

“Gravity might have changed a bit,” continued Jack, “but not enough to keep a human being airborne like that.”

“There are whole buildings floating,” said Danny.  “I’m a lot smaller than a building.”

“The rules seem to be different for different masses, as well as different altitudes,” said Maddie, making a face.  

“Yeah!  It’s really exciting.  We’re trying to measure the ectoplasm levels– It has to be related, but we haven’t been able to detect any yet– Those ghosts are tricky, son–”  

“Well, yeah.  But the rules are also different for things that are alive.”

“Really?” asked Jack, leaning close.  

“Uh, yes?  Otherwise I wouldn’t have done, um.  That.  I tested it.”

“You tested it?  Did you write it down?”

Danny nodded, cautiously.  Jack swept him off his feet.  “Our boy has been doing science, Mads!”

“He’s been jumping off of buildings!”

“Putting his research to practical use!”

“He’s been jumping off buildings without being peer reviewed!”

“Oh, yeah, son, you should have had someone check your work.”

“You never get peer reviewed,” said Danny, scowling.  

“That’s different,” said Maddie, quickly.  

“If anyone else believed in ghosts, you’d be sure we would be!”  

Hanging limp in Jack’s arms, Danny grumbled.  

“Danny,” said Maddie.  

“Yes?” he mumbled.  

“No more testing theories without checking in with us first.  Safety first.  You should know this by now.”

Danny hunched his shoulders and tried not to think too hard about his scars.  They weren’t very visible, and the doctors had said that they’d fade away, probably entirely, eventually, but they were still there now, if you knew where to look.

A month ago, reality had broken.  

A few days before that, Danny had almost died.  Lab accident.  It turned out that his parents thought portals to other dimensions which may or may not exist needed a lot of electricity and chemicals to function.  Danny had been curious.  He’d wanted to explore, to investigate.  He’d stepped on a loose wire that had led to a capacitor.  He’d been horribly electrocuted, and then exposed to a chemical cocktail.  Sam and Tucker, who had been in the lab with him, had called for an ambulance, and he’d been brought to the hospital.

At least, that’s what he was told, later.  He hadn’t woken up until he’d been in the hospital for a few days.  Of course, when he had woken up, he did so because a bunch of the medicines going into him had started to do weird things while reality restructured itself, and that had been… incredibly unpleasant.  Everyone had been grateful that only a very few things - like whatever Danny had been on to take care of the chemicals he’d picked up in the lab - had acted like that.

Later, Jazz had told Danny that for a brief period of time between the accident and reality breaking, Jack and Maddie had sworn off ghost hunting.  Presumably forever.  But once the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology started to rebel and twist, they’d taken it back.  Well, to be fair, apparently they didn’t take it back until the lab disappeared.  And the Fenton Stockades.    

Although, to be fair in the other direction, it was more a case of everyone’s basements disappearing and being replaced by weird misty caverns than ghosts specifically targeting his parents.  It was a whole thing. 

(Personally, Danny was glad to see them go, although it had sounded like Sam was mourning hers.)

“Danny,” said Maddie, “tell us that you understand.”

“I understand.  I don’t test theories without you,” said Danny, grudgingly.  “Not even about cool things like flying.”

Maddie scowled.  Jack beamed.  

“Great!” shouted Jack.  He whirled Danny around again.  “Let’s go see your data!  Where is it?”

“Upstairs,” mumbled Danny.  “I’ve got a notebook.”

“A notebook, Mads!”  

Maddie sighed.  “Alright, let’s see the notebook.”

[saurons-pr-department]

If there is something you don't want to see in fanfic on AO3, this box is your friend:

How to use it under the cut

This box is found as a side bar next to the fanfic listings. It's a grey side bar that has 'sort and filter' written at the top. First you will see a list like the one above for including specific items (items you want to see) in your search and below that there is the exclude (items you don't want to see) option.

What do you find in each drop down menu? Ratings: Here you'll find a list of each of the ratings (gen, teen and up, mature, explicit, not rated). Warnings: Here you will find the different archive warnings (e.g. major character death). Categories: Here you'll find check boxes for the different relationship categories (m/m, f/f, f/m, gen, etc) Fandoms: If it's a large fandom with multiple works and media types they may be separated out here. E.g. within the wider 'Tolkien' fandom The Lord of the Rings books and films have different tags, as do the other books, films and the new show. Characters: Here you'll find a list of the most popular characters by number of tags. (More below on if the character you want rid of isn't in this list.) Relationships: Similar to characters, here you'll find a few of the most popular ships. (More below on if the ship you want rid of isn't in this list.) Additional tags: Here you'll find a list of popular tags you might want to exclude, e.g. hurt/comfort, romance, humour, enemies to lovers, fluff etc. etc. (More below on if the tag you want rid of isn't in this list.)

Using the filters You can open any of these drops down menus and tick off what you want to remove from the search results. As an example, here I've opened the Ratings drop down:

All I need to do is select the box next to the ones I don't want to read, like in the below image:

Now that those are selected, just click the sort and filter button (found at the top and bottom of this side bar) and there we go! No mature, explicit or unrated fics in our search results! And as I said, any of the other drop downs work the same way.

What if the character/ship/tag I want to exclude isn't on the list? If you are looking to exclude something that isn't included in the drop down menus you can use the 'other tags to exclude' field below the drop downs.

For example, the characters drop down lists a couple of the top most popular ones, by number of tags. But what if I want to exclude someone else? Just type their name into the field. The character's own tag, plus other tags they appear in, will come up as suggestions. Either leave it at what you've typed yourself and hit enter or select one of the suggestions. You're not limited to one excluded tag:

Use both the include and exclude options together to really tailor what comes up in your search results.

There's also options relating to fic length, completion status and crossovers below the exclude criteria, under 'more options'. Again these work as drop downs:

And there are more advanced filtering options using special character operations and all that jazz and you can search within your current search results. I've not included it here because most of the time I see people complain about not wanting to see x,y and z on AO3 their problem could be solved by simply checking a few buttons in a drop down.

[darubyprincx]

False had been mining for copper for... hours. Days? Time gets a little bit weird down in the deeps, and she remembered something that someone (a reflective surface on a clock face: still her face, but not an outfit she'd ever worn before) had told her once. Something an old friend had told them. It's wise to keep a stopwatch in the mines, he'd said, because if you don't you'll forget time existed at all pretty quick.

False hadn't brought a stopwatch.

She'd been mining copper for a while.

Several shulkers in her pockets and one extra hoisted onto her shoulder, she made her ascent with a small sigh and a slight wince. Her knees were NOT going to appreciate that later.

Her base was still right where she'd left it, every little trinket still in place and nothing touched as far as she could tell. A little clockwork copper raven lay sideways on her desk, innards splayed outwards and stomach open to the elements. Gears, springs, miniature pistons. Outside, the evening- morning? no, definitely evening sun shone low and heavy through her high windows. She checked her communicator, refreshed the chat. Just a lot of logging-out messages, the last one Pix from two weeks ago. All the ones before were even older than that.

False felt slight goosebumps raising on her biceps.

She hurriedly rubbed them back to warmth. They were probably just on vacation or something. It was fine. She stepped outside. The air was warm and sweet, high spring in the North, and she decided right then and there that she'd pull up a chair and just watch the sun set or something. Gods knew she needed the vitamin D.

Dragging a dusty folding chair outside (really, everything inside of her base was dusty, how long had she been down there??), False beat the dirt off one side, flipped it over, and did the same there, breaking spiderwebs with her bare hands and a wrinkle of the nose. Thankfully, the straps of fabric seemed intact and the joints moved smoothly, if not with a breath of resistance.

She set the chair down on the ground and sat down carefully on it, testing her weight, then leaned back and folded her hands over her stomach. The weather WAS nice, and she wondered why anyone would take a vacation when the world right here was just as picturesque.

False sat there a little while in perfect repose, body warmed by the waning sunlight, before suddenly snatching at her communicator next to her and reading the chat logs over again. Pixlriffs left the game. TheOrionSound left the game. GeminiTay left the game. MythicalSausage left the game. SmallishBeans left the game. Everyone else was listed there too, and before that there were a couple of Warden deaths. Currently, False was the only one online.

Of course, she didn't really have anywhere else to go. Other people had their worlds and their other servers and their own projects to attend to. False was just... here. Always had been, and she supposed she always would be. She couldn't really imagine herself anywhere else, anyways. Where would she go? A singleplayer world? No, that would drive her mad. MCC? Laughable. Hermitcraft? No, no, they'd know something was wrong. They'd give her questions she wouldn't be able to answer. False had seen the squints Gem had given her when she thought she wasn't looking, had seen how Pix had raised an eyebrow minutely when first raising her. False was smart enough to know that something was up. She was also smart enough to not press the matter.

Still, she did suppose it was a little strange that nobody had logged on in what, a fortnight? Even during the crossover, people still dropped in regularly to work on things quietly or get some trade deals on when the cameras were off. Even Oli had still dropped by once when he was supposedly on hiatus, and that had only lasted a few days.

Yeah. Okay. Maybe more than a little weird, but it was fine, False was like the queen of weird. Gods above, her secrets had secrets! She knew about as much about herself as she did her machines, which is to say, a lot but not everything. Not the full histories. If she read the stories told in the weathering of the copper she had crafted as her veneer, what would she read there?

Would her blood shine a bright verdigris as it was shed by the shining horrible truth?

Not the healthiest relationship to have with yourself and your history, probably, but False was also the queen of dealing the hands she was given. And the queen of this empty town, population her. Dealing with other probably empty by now towns.

Well damn, she couldn't quite ignore the fact that she'd been left behind now, could she?

With a sigh, False set down her communicator. She'd deal with that once she figured out how long she'd been down mining. Given that it was well into spring by now, judging by the trees, it'd been at least a month.

Wait, a month?

She must have made a mistake. There was no way that-

False's communicator beeped. She picked it up.

Pixlriffs joined the game.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Okay. Someone was here besides her, at least. And she was even on friendly terms with him! Well. Probably. They'd exchanged copper like, twice. False was pretty sure that counted.

<FalseSymmetry> hey <Pixlriffs> hello? <FalseSymmetry> dude where were you it's been two weeks <Pixlriffs> It's been two weeks? <FalseSymmetry> yeah nobody's logged on at all <FalseSymmetry> come to my base? <Pixlriffs> Where are you?

Again, those goosebumps. (Gods, they were getting annoying.) False frowned. It was a bit weird that Pix didn't remember where her base was, but then again he hadn't been over here in a while and he hadn't even been on the server since two weeks ago. She had to cut him some slack. With a shrug, False copied her coordinates and sent them into chat.

<Pixlriffs> wow that's a long way from where I am right now <FalseSymmetry> yeah lol <Pixlriffs> Okay, I'll be right over. Might be a minute though <FalseSymmetry> that's ok <FalseSymmetry> take your time

False put her communicator back down onto the ground besides her and waited, folding her arms again. The sun crept slowly down, eye-searing yellow fading to a more manageable red that stained the clouds purple and pinks and subtly ever-changing hues of grey. The sun dipped below the horizon. The stars came out. Pix was still not there.

False was considering asking if he was alright or something when she saw a human-shaped figure step into view in the glow of the torches she had set on her bridge. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and waved, getting up and walking forwards to meet him. "Hey," she said as Pix got closer into view. "It's been... a minute."

The face was Pixl's, but lined and worn. He looked like, ten years older. Instead of the button-down navy shirt and brown cargo pants he always wore, he was instead draped in loose, thin sand-colored robes that were bordered by a gradient reminiscent of the colors of copper. A brown shirt could be glimpsed beneath. His pants were grey and similarly loose, and instead of hiking boots he wore strapped leather sandals. False looked him up and down quickly. "Had a rough vacation?"

"Vacation?" he asked, sounding confused. His hair was down, and the grey streaks in it were more pronounced than False had noticed before. Beard too. What the hell had he been up to?

"Yeah," said False. "You've been gone for like, two weeks. You look like you aged ten years. I like the outfit, though. It's very," she waved her hand, "swoosh-y."

"Two weeks?" asked Pix, definitely sounding confused and now concerned. "I think it's been longer than two weeks."

"How long have you been out, then?" asked False.

"A month or two maybe? Maybe longer. I sort of lost track of the time, unfortunately."

"Oh, I feel that," said False, trying to ignore the knot that was tying itself oh so neatly in her stomach. "I've been mining for a while. Getting copper, y'know?" She thumbed backwards. "It takes a while."

"That it does," said Pix. His eyebrows furrowed, and he walked a little bit closer to False. "Do I know you?"

The knot pulled itself tight with a snap, and despite the warmth of the evening False was suddenly very cold. "Yeah," she said. "I- I've been trading you copper."

"I don't remember seeing you anywhere before this, though," said Pix now. "You're sure?"

False lied through her teeth. "I'm sure."

Pix stepped back and looked around, arms folded. "Okay, because I am 99% certain that I have never seen this place before in my life. Where- what's your name again? Where are we?"

"I'm False," she said, backing up a little. "This- this isn't funny anymore, Pix. Everyone's been gone for two weeks and they haven't come back yet. They've never done that before. I thought that you of all people would know what was going on-"

"False," Pix repeated, urgently now. Brown eyes met teal. "Where are we?"

"You're in Cogsmeade, and this is the Empires server," said False. "But you know that already. What are you getting at? Is this your idea of a prank?"

"It's not," said Pix. "This isn't Empires."

"What do you mean it isn't Empires? This is the server. You've been playing on it for a year and a half."

"This isn't the same place," said Pix, gesturing around him. "There's no Rivendell, no Mythlands, no Grimlands, none of that. This isn't the Empires I remember. I've never met you, and you've never met- well, not me me anyways. Something's up here."

False stood there silently for a little while, goosebumps returning to her arms. She got the feeling that they would be staying there for a while. The wind had turned cold, and somewhere behind her she could see that copper raven, still flayed, still unfinished. Time. She'd run out of time. She thought she'd had enough before the season ended- she'd run out of time.

"Do you want to go inside?" she asked.

"Sure."

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us//Part 2: When Doves Cry vampire!Eddie x supernatural!fem!Reader//True Blood AU

⚠️18+Only pls⚠️ adult themes, blood, drinking blood, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, violence, reader and vampire!Eddie both get physically hurt--but they end up okay, talk of needles, alcohol consumption, talk of addiction, mention of sex, sanguivoriphobia, talk of the supernatural, death. Word Count: 6.7k

Series Masterlist

Summary: You start your first day at Main Vein, the vampire/human crossover bar owned by Bob Newby, flanked by vampire!bartender!Argyle and you learn what a risk humans can be to vampires as you begin to navigate their world. You and Eddie have to rescue each other as you're forced to share an intimate exchange that brings you irrevocably close. Playlist

Important words/phrases for this chapter: Fanger (derogatory term for vampires) Fang Banger (derogatory term for people who like to be bitten by vampires during sex) Sanguivoriphobia (fear of vampires)

✂️

If you are in the group of people who are familiar with True Blood, parts of this chapter will feel familiar. I won't be sticking to the storyline of the show religiously, but there are so many clever elements I wanted to incorporate. Please read the warnings above, as some of the things mentioned in this chapter might not be for everyone. ❤️

--------

Death Becomes Us Part 2: When Doves Cry

For years, you tried to cover your scars up with makeup, but then they ended up looking lumpy and odd, and it made people stare even harder trying to figure out what was under the heavy layers of foundation and powder. You’d never met anyone like you before, and it made you feel a type of deep loneliness that you never talked about because you knew no one would understand.

You’d left some tuna on your porch for Dio before you went to bed, and you were pleased to find the saucer licked clean when you left your trailer the next day. You could tell that she was well fed and that your nasty vampire neighbor was taking good care of her, but you wanted to reward her for proving to Eddie that she did, indeed, like someone other than him.

The white BMW was gone, and the old van was back, parked next to Eddie’s trailer. You were more curious and interested in whatever he was up to than you should be, considering you wanted nothing to do with him.

It was still daylight out when you rolled up early to Main Vein, and Bob got you to work writing out the specials on a sandwich board in your best handwriting, to hopefully attract customers in as they strolled by on the sidewalk. You shadowed Bob as he taught you the basics of tending bar while a couple humans (also known as “breeders” in the vampire world, because vampires, of course, could not procreate) came in for a few simple beers, and one guy ordered a jack and coke.

As a child, you were always an emphatic soul; you could tell what a person was feeling, even if they told you with their words that they were feeling something else. It was a trauma response to surviving in the emotional chaos you grew up in. Now, since the accident, you could read human emotions and intentions with ten times the intensity.

Vampires, on the other hand, were impervious to your gift—or, curse, as you often referred to it.

For instance, you could tell that Bob Newby had a heart of gold; his enthusiasm was not a fake front to hide dark intentions. He truly loved his vampire girlfriend, whom you had yet to meet, and he harbored nothing but the best intentions in the brainstorming of his human/vampire crossover bar Main Vein. He believed that vampires were good people who just happened to be dead, and that we were all equals, despite the fact that they were stronger, faster, immortal, and subsided on blood alone.

You were behind the bar, concentrating on putting the exact amount of alcohol in a drink that the recipe card in front of you called for, when Argyle slid in next to you and bumped your arm. His skin felt like ice.

“Careful!” He snickered. “Don’t spill any,” but half of the liquid had already dripped down your fingers. Since you couldn’t get a read on vampire’s emotions, it was a relief for you to be around them. Feeling other people’s emotions often meant that you had to experience them, and that was not to your benefit in many cases. Being around crowds of people sapped your energy in a way you still struggled to recover from.

Argyle wore his black hair straight and parted down the middle; it was shiny and soft and you wanted to touch it. He had on a colorful, button down shirt, and a blue visor that said Main Vein on it. He nodded at what you were working on, wiggling his eyebrows. “Whadda we got going on here?”

You sighed and told him what the customer ordered. Argyle smiled and waved you off. “I got this, foxy dudette. Let the master take over,” he cracked his knuckles and interlaced his fingers, flexing his palms out before he brought things from the under bar at lightning speed.

You were more than happy to shove off and get to the group at the front waiting to be seated.

When you were half way there with menus tucked under your arm, you realized that this group was mean and anxious and desperate; a combination that made alarms go off inside of you as your skin exploded in a wash of goosebumps.

They were nice enough to your face, though. It was a woman with two men, all dressed in denim and plaid; one of the men had an American flag on the front of his t-shirt. The other one had his greasy hair squished under a trucker cap, and two missing teeth in front. The redhead woman wore an Ed Hardy tube top under her flannel, and she was pretty in a whiskey and Marlboro reds kind of way. Her smile was big and gracious as she smacked her green gum, and they followed you to a booth.

They ordered a round of beers with potato skins from the appetizer menu, and just as you excused yourself to give their order to Bob in the kitchen, the woman grabbed your wrist.

You squeezed your eyes closed until you could calm the surge that went through your body when you felt threatened, waiting for the fire behind your eyes to settle before you met her gaze again.

“Sorry, darlin’ but this is a bar for vampires, too, right?” She was bent forward, whispering to you, her pupils tightly pinned in her dusty blue eyes. There was a faded, long stem rose tattoo on her white freckled forearm.

“Um, yes,” you looked around. “Will there be more with your party? Should I bring over a menu with our plasma options?”

The two men chuckled across the table at each other as if you’d just made a joke.

“That’s okay, baby,” the woman said sweetly, releasing your arm. “But, are there any vampires in here right now? Me and the boys were just hoping to see one up close, is all.”

You thought about what they were asking you, and the fact that their emoting of desperation was getting stronger, and decided not to point Argyle out to them. They’d eventually figure that one out for themselves because he loved to show his teeth. “I’m not really sure,” you lied with a shrug. “I never can tell the difference.”

The woman frowned and turned back to the two men as they started to discuss something.

The other waitress, a human named Erica Sinclair, tucked her Main Vein t-shirt into her shorts as she joined you on the floor, rolling her eyes. Bob introduced the two of you in a rush as he flipped a burger, and Erica gave you a bored look, but her gaze did not linger on your your scars like most. “You’re new here, right? You’re smiling, so you must be. Nothing much to smile about around here.”

You told her you’d only been in town a few days as you grabbed a second round of beers for the table that had been asking about vampires. You weren’t paying too much attention when the front door opened, but then some of the other customers seemed to still, conversations coming to a halt, and Erica’s attention shifted over your shoulder, eyes narrowing.

The song When Doves Cry by Prince was playing on the stereo system as you turned on your heel to witness your neighbor Eddie step across the threshold with ease; one initial invitation was all that was needed, apparantly. According to Bob, invitations could also be reversed if necessary. It was the couple waiting behind Eddie for their invitation that alerted everyone to the presence of something supernatural.

The two behind him could’ve easily passed as “regular” mortals. They had a very mom and pop look about them; she was a brunette in a floral dress and he was in trousers, a dark blue button down, and had a receding hairline. She clutched her white handbag at her stomach, and the man with her had his hand at her back, coaxing her in.

Eddie pretended not to see you there as he cupped a hand to light his cigarette and made his way over to the bar to take his normal seat at the end to order a Fang Tang, not even giving a second glance to the vampires stuck outside. Maybe they weren’t his friends? Not all vampires were friends, surely, as you were not close with all humans.

Bob would’ve been the first to greet them and welcome them in, but he was knee deep in the kitchen, wearing his “Bob the Brain” custom embroidered apron, and when you turned to Erica, she shook her head. “I’m not a fan of the Fangers myself. It’s going to take me a minute to get used to this new world.”

Your eyes snapped to Argyle, but he was busy at the other end of the bar doing a Tom Cruise juggling act with the booze to impress two of the local Fang Bangers.

So you straitened your shirt, squared your shoulders, and made your way over to greet them.

Meanwhile, the redhead woman with the rose tattoo on her arm and the two men with her were hyper focused on the new arrivals; you could feel the cold, wet tug of some kind of rot in their veins, surging though them and clouding their rational thoughts.

At the time, you did not know that there was an underground market for vampire blood, not only for its healing properties, but the euphoric high and transcendent experience it gifted the user. It enhanced sexual performance and gave humans the mental prowess of superhuman strength. Needless to say, it was a highly prized commodity; expensive and addictive.

Hunched at the bar in his leather and battle vest, and a handkerchief hanging from his back pocket, Eddie appeared to be ignoring you as you walked to greet the newcomers. You had never professionally invited a vampire in before, so you might have overcompensated with how cheerful your tone was. “Welcome to Main Vein,” you plastered a smile across your face. “Please enter and follow me. I will show you to your seat,” you also added a slight bow and extension of your arm like you were back in theater class again.

They stepped inside with a swoosh—a sound like they were breaking some invisible barrier you couldn’t see. They asked for a booth, and the only one out of the five that was available happened behind the party that was eager to see vampires up close: now they would get their chance. This vampire couple was not at all what you envisioned when people talked of “bloodsuckers from hell”. They seemed grateful to be able to come out to a bar with regular people---perhaps it reminded them of the human lives they’d once lived.

The guy in the trucker hat with two missing teeth turned around in his seat to get a better look as they sat and you offered them the plasma menus. You explained the different categories for synthetic blood, and how each offered the same taste and nutrients as real human blood. They offered replicas of a whole range of blood types, for those vampires with discerning palettes. You frowned at the guy in the trucker hat to make him turn back around and take his seat.

On your way back to the kitchen, Erica caught you by the elbow, her eyes wide. “What did they say to you?”

“They just wanted menus,” you said with a shrug, glancing over your shoulder at the couple in question. “I don’t think they’re all as bad as they seem on the news.”

“Oh, believe me,” She gave you a dire look. “They are evil. Don’t let the Laura Ashley dress and the Newport loafers fool you.” Truly, Erica had not yet properly met more than a handful of vampires in her life, she’d only heard the rumors.

“Have you ever met one?” You asked, assuming that she’d known plenty.

“I’ve met enough of them,” she promised, hands on her hips, and then she gestured to your neighbor at the end of the bar. “I know Eddie. But that’s only because I met him...before the change. And I’m forced to be around Argyle because I work here.”

When Erica walked off, you made the mistake of glancing over at the Eddie in question, and he tried to lower his eyes to his synthetic blood beverage as if he hadn't been watching you.

Argyle was working a metal cocktail shaker over his shoulder when you came back to the bar, and he nudged his chin at you. “What’s up with the freaks?” He asked, referring to the redhead with the rose tattoo and the two beefy men with her. He filled two martini glasses with a dark red concoction and trimmed each with a tiny pink flower.

You leaned forward a bit so you wouldn’t have to yell, tilting your head. “They specifically asked if there were any vampires here tonight,” you glanced over at Eddie again, but he was engrossed in something he was doodling on a napkin. “Do you think they’re tourists?”

“Nah,” Argyle wiped his hands on the rag at his waist, eyeing the table in question. “That’s Angie Klemp and her inbred brothers. They’ve been around forever.”

You could tell by his expression that he was weary of them, and you knew that he had excellent hearing which probably allowed him to listen in on some of what they were saying as they huddled together at their booth.

Wanting to change the subject, Argyle winked at you. “You’re doing a rad job, surfer girl. These are for the vampire couple that just sat down,” he pushed the two martini glasses toward you. “It’s our signature synthetic blood cocktail. Tell them it’s on the house.”

As the night picked up a bit, you took an order to the wrong table and fumbled a glass that shattered behind the bar. While you were cleaning that up, and mumbling apologies to Argyle, a woman wearing glasses and her honey-streaked brown hair in a bob took a seat at the small table by the window. Erica had a tray of drinks in her hand, so you dumped a dustpan full of glass in the trash and went over to wait on the new guest.

“Do I know you?” You asked as you took your pad and pen out to take her order.

She clamped her top teeth over her bottom lip, tucking hair behind her ear, shyly. “I own the bookstore down the street,” she answered. “You were in earlier, but I never got a chance to introduce myself.”

Of course, it came to you almost as quickly as she said it. You’d been so early for work that you took a walk around the block and ended up wandering into the quaint bookshop on the corner with the wind chimes made from seashells in the window. You had mentioned to her as you purchased a used paperback that you were starting work that day.

“The bookstore with the cats,” you grinned, pointing your pen at her. There had, indeed, been two resident cats in the shop, lazily draped over their carpeted perches in the sun, and sleepy, cream colored bigger dog behind the front counter.

“That’s the one,” she nodded, and then she stuck her hand out to introduce herself. “I’m Robin, in case you ever come back in, you can ask for me,” that seemed to fluster her and she shook her head. “You don’t have to ask for me, I’m usually there, but if you ever come by again, that would be nice.” Her cheeks got pink as she fumbled for the glass of ice water in front of her and took a sip.

You met her eyes and told her that you be back in soon to finish the series you were reading, and then she ordered a glass of wine with her salad. You could tell her heart was racing. She was nervous and excited to see you, as if maybe she’d had to give herself a pep talk before she came in. You noticed there was a certain warmth about her that wasn’t present in other humans. Whereas vampires were abnormally cold; Robin was pumping off heat like she had a temperature, and you were instantly fascinated by her.

----------

A bit later in the evening, Eddie said his goodbyes to Argyle, and you took casual note of his departure out of the corner of your eye while you bussed a table.

What you also noticed was the way Angie Klemp and her brothers paid quickly, and got up to follow Eddie out only a minute behind him. They’d had 6 beers and just as many tequila shots between them, and you got the feeling that they were up to no good. The two men were tapping their knees under the table, and scratching their necks and hands as if being actively attacked by ants.

The pulses of emotional electricity coming off of them instantly made your pores on your scalp blossom with sweat at how panicked they were; how hell bent. But again, what would they want with Eddie? To take their picture with him? That was a common tourist occurrence in Hawkins. But, the tourists in question usually preferred the subject to look like a stereotypical vampire; maybe wearing a cape, or dressed like Elvira. As far as you could tell, vampires usually kept with the same style they had when they were turned.

Eddie did naturally have that “vampire” look, though. He was a loner, he wore all black, he had spooky tattoos, and that long dark hair framing his pale face.

You were refilling someone’s water when you overheard Erica tell a guy at the bar to stop staring at her ass before she stabbed his eyes out with her pen, and it made you chuckle, mostly because you knew she wasn’t bluffing.

Ten minutes or so later, you were grabbing napkins from the storeroom in the back hall when you heard high pitched voices, screaming at each other from the alleyway parking lot. You hesitated with your hand on the shelf, wondering if it was just two people arguing and probably none of your business, but then you heard another scream, and decided to crack the door and peek out.

You had to scan the area at first, but then your eyes widened as they took in what was happening: against the brick wall of the next building, in a parking space between two cars, your neighbor Eddie was on the ground, his neck and wrists wrapped in silver chain, pinning him to the ground. You gasped and swallowed as you saw the steam rise up from where the silver was burning his flesh, his mouth set in a grimace.

Angie Klemp made fast work of jabbing a needle into the crease of each of his elbows draining his blood through tubing into clear bags. The brother in the American flag shirt paced at Eddie’s feet, barely able to contain his need for the drug, and the other one with two missing teeth kicked Eddie in the leg and then spat on him. “Yeah? Whadda ya think about that? Not so tough now, are you, Fanger?”

You stepped inside only to grab the fire extinguisher off the wall before heading back out, careful not to make any noise as the door shut. You tip toed around so that you were hidden behind the van next to them.

Angie seemed to be doing all the work, jerking the port out to fill another bag on the filthy pavement. “Goddamn it, I knew we should’ve taken him home first. This is risky as hell.”

“There’s no time for that!” The brother with two missing teeth took his hat off and scratched his head viciously. “I need some of the blood now, can’t I just have a little bit?”

Angie threw him a disgusted look. “You’re a fuckin’ addict, Clyde. How are we supposed to make money on this shit if you drink up all the profits? Get your shit together!”

You peeked your head out from behind the van, and Eddie saw you. His eyes were black and his fangs were out, but the silver had him rendered completely incapacitated. You could only imagine that the amount of blood they were taking was also making him weak.

You lifted up the fire extinguisher to let him know you were coming to his rescue, but he shook his head, trying to warn you off.

The two beefy men were too caught up in the throws of withdrawals and had their backs to you as you came up behind them. With a mighty heave, you cracked one in the back of the head with the big metal canister, and then when the other one turned around, you sprayed him in the face with the foam that comes out of the nozzle, blinding him. He clapped his hand to his face, yowling, and tripped himself on his own feet, going down hard.

Angie slowly stood, realizing that both men were on the ground, dazed, and she gave you a nasty snarl. “Why, you stupid, cut face whore,” she bit out just before she lunged at you.

You were about to swing the canister at her face when, from out of nowhere, a huge, boxy, beige pit bull terrier lunged from the darkness, barking and growling at Angie, barring its teeth, forcing her to back up. You looked down, a bit shocked: you’d never seen that dog before in your life. Would it attack you next? Hesitant, you let the dog move between the two of you, protectively, as it curled its lip and growled.

You pointed the nozzle at the woman. “Try us, bitch.”

The pit bull started barking a loud alarm that would soon have people coming to see what the hell was going on. Angie clenched her hands in the air as if she wanted to wring your neck, and then she was shouting for the two stumbling men to get in the truck.

“Go, go, go, you dickheads,” Angie demanded, grabbing the one covered in white goo by the collar, dragging him along.

The one with the crack to his skull was bleeding down the side of his head. “But what about the blood? Let’s take the blood!”

You and your new, aggressive pit bull friend stepped in front of Eddie, your weapon ready. “Don’t even think about it, fucker.”

You waited for them to pile in the truck and speed away before you dropped the fire extinguisher to the ground with a thunk and got on your knees next to Eddie, bits of gravel cutting into your shin.

The pit bull licked your cheek and stood guard next to you, looking from you to Eddie as if it understood everything that was going on, head tilting every so often. You were too concerned with how the silver was sizzling on his skin like bacon on a frying pan to wonder about your new companion. There were still needles in his arms and you slipped them out, cringing as you did so. You watched in awe as the hole marks in his arms disappeared and healed right before your very eyes.

“Can you move?” You asked him.

Eddie could barely talk, the pain of the silver was so excruciating. That, and he was extremely low functioning after so much blood loss. If those three had wanted to end him, they very well could have. He wondered how many vampires they had trapped and drained over the past few years.

He managed a scratchy, whispered, “no. It’s...the silver…”

With a gulp, you went to work unwrapping the chain from his neck and then his wrists, peeling layers of skin with it. He was an immortal vampire, but you could only imagine how much it must hurt, and yet, he hadn’t even made whimper.

His eyes never left you as you worked on him so diligently, your brows knitted together with focused determination. His neck was kinked forward, as his head and shoulders were propped up against the brick wall.

Unwrapping the last coil from around his wrist, you noticed that the wounds were staying the same, and you met his eyes. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I’m too weak right now,” his eyes flicked away from you. “I won’t be able to heal until I feed.”

At that, the pit bull whined, and took its cue to turn and disappear back into the night.

You looked over your shoulder at the door to Main Vein. “Would synthetic blood work?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head once, rolling it against the wall. “Has to be...human,” he breathed, bangs sticking to his clammy forehead.

His once rosy lips were pale and the mangled wounds left from the silver made you feel bad for him, even though you weren’t even sure if you liked him.

“What if I just left you here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Would you die?”

The corners of his mouth stuck together as he talked. “If I don’t feed soon, I won’t be able to protect myself. More will come to take my blood, and if I’m still out here at daybreak then, yes, the sunlight will kill me.”

Your gaze moved from his ripped throat to his eyes again, hovering there. There was a thick leather cuff on your wrist that you used to cover up your scar, but you undid the buckle, exposing the underside of your forearm. You wondered if he was too weak to expose his fangs, so you used the back of one of your earrings to slice a thin opening across your skin, wincing in pain as you did so.

Eddie’s breath hitched in anticipation as you lifted the bleeding gash to his mouth. He couldn’t lift his arms, so you pressed it there, and his eyes locked on yours as you felt his tongue lick across the cut just before his eye went black and he began to suck, moaning, drinking you as a small trickle of blood dripped down to his chin.

At one point, he got some of his strength back, and his hand with the three silver, chunky rings came up to push your forearm against his eager mouth as he fed, and your heart raced at the sight of it. The passion of his need made your pussy clench around nothing as you knelt there in the grimy parking lot.

When his swallowing finally slowed, you tugged your arm away and clutched it to the underside of your apron. Eddie licked his blood-stained lips and met your eyes again. “Seriously,” he was strong enough now to brace his hands and push himself up so that his back was no longer on the ground. He leaned close as if he could read the answers in your eyes. “What are you?”

Your face was inches from his. “Do I taste different?”

“Yes,” he returned, without hesitation. The mauled skin around his neck and wrists were completely healed. “I’ve never tasted anyone like you before.”

You got to your feet, clipping your leather cuff back on, realizing you’d need to find a first aid kit before you went back to work.

“I owe you big time,” Eddie looked you up and down as he sat for a bit to catch his breath. “If you ever need---”

The back door to Main Vein opened and Erica was standing there with her arms crossed, shouting across the parking lot at you. “What the hell is going on out here? Am I working the floor by myself tonight or what?”

You walked to the back end of the van to tell her you’d be right in, and when you turned back to say something to Vampire Eddie---he was gone.

-------

“What the hell were you thinking?” Erica blanched as she helped you wrap up your arm at the desk in Bob’s office. “You know these Fangers eat people, right?”

She was still yelling, but you were trying not to take it personal. “Well, he didn’t eat me, so I guess there are exceptions.”

“What the hell do you call him drinking your blood, then?” Erica had a very soft touch while bandaging you up, careful to make sure she cleaned the wound and inspected you to make sure you didn’t have a bite mark.

“You girls okay?” Bob came around the corner, flushed, his face red and glistening in sweat from a long night behind the grill.

Erica jerked her thumb over her shoulder at you. “This one decided to play vigilantly in the parking lot to save one of your vampire buddies.”

Bob beamed. “Aw, you made a vampire friend? They’re awesome aren’t they?”

This time, you and Erica exchanged a confused look.

---------

At the end of your shift, Bob and Argyle stayed to finish up with two vampire customers at the bar who were lingering. With a heavy sigh, you took your blue, blood-stained apron off, grabbed things from your wood cubby in the back, and then walked with Erica down to the end of the sidewalk. The two of you had to split up and go in separate directions because your hearse was parked at the curb, and Erica only lived a few blocks away. You offered her a ride home, but she declined. You could feel that she had some personal issues weighing on her heart, and besides that, she had a deep well of emotions inside for the people she cared about, and it took her a while to trust people and open up. If you didn’t have your curse, you’ve might’ve just assumed she hated you.

It was late, but because of growing vampire population in civilized areas, there were several lights in windows, and the low hum of conversations drifting down from higher up apartments. There were streetlamps on each corner, but the dark side of the building cast a heavy shadow on you as you fumbled for your keys.

You were just about to unlock the door when you heard the shuffling of footsteps, and then before you could turn, the hard edge of a rope edge dug into your neck, gagging you, and then you were yanked back, off your feet. You tried to scream, but it only came out as a gargle. Your ass caught most of the fall to the pavement, but then your head clapped back onto the hard surface and it caused a ringing sound in your skull. The person holding the rope around your neck pulled it tighter, and you struggled, kicking your feet, trying to get free.

Angie Klemp and her brother in the American flag t-shirt were standing above you, sneering. She kicked you in the ribs and you wailed at the pain. She squatted down to mock you. “Oh, darn, I guess that fanger boyfriend of yours isn’t around to return the favor now, is he?”

They were dragging you now, pulling you by the neck around into the alleyway where no one could see what they were about to do to you.

Your vision was getting blurry as you heard the woman's voice again. “You cost me five thousand dollars worth of fanger blood, and we’re gonna take it out of your ass.”

The rope burned as it slipped off your neck and you were somehow able to roll on your side and stand, just as one of the men punched you across the face and you went down again, coughing, tasting blood. You were on your hands and knees, trying to catch your breath, and one of them kicked the steel toe of their boot into your stomach, making you double over in pain as they laughed, tears squeezing from your eyes as you tasted bile.

You wondered if you were going to die there.

In a blink, with spots in your eyes, you tried to focus as you swore you saw the guy in the trucker hat get his neck broken right there where he stood. His head twisted all the way around, forced by seemingly invisible hands, and then he slumped to the ground, dead. Before the other two could figure out what was happening, you saw Eddie pick the guy with the American flag shirt up and throw him onto the hood of a car, his head crashing through the windshield with a bloody splat. Angie tried to run, but Eddie caught her by the back of her neck and picked her up off of her feet. With one hand, he threw her into the nearby dumpster and slammed the lid with a bang.

This had all been done in seconds; he moved at the speed of light.

You were on your side, choking on blood, feeling scared as your vision began to tunnel. But then, strong arms were lifting you up as Eddie scooped you against his chest, “I got you, I got you,” he murmured against your bloody head. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You might have blacked out for a bit because when you opened your eyes, you were on the grass in the park across the street, propped up against a tree. You mewed in pain as your head throbbed and you choked on a sticky pool of blood in the back of your throat.

Eddie took his jacket and denim off as he knelt in front of you, revealing the Metallica t-shirt he had on. You tried to hold your head up as he produced his fangs and sank them into his own arm, and then held the leaking bite marks out to you.

“You need to drink my blood, so you can heal,” he said. He didn’t want to scare you in that moment, but you had a serious gash in your skull, and he had no idea how bad that kick you took had affected your internal organs.

You tried to push away from him, your eyes wide. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“You won’t be,” he assured you. “Believe me, I don’t want this for you, either.”

There was a tenderness in him then that you were noticing for the first time. You’d been taken by surprise, but under normal circumstances, you would’ve been able to handle the Klemps on your own. You weren’t used to feeling helpless and in need of someone’s care. You could feel the blood dripping down your neck and your vision was starting to fade again.

“Just a little bit,” you breathed, sticky lips parted.

Eddie cupped your head in one hand as he brought his arm over, similar to how you had fed him earlier. The weeping holes from his fang marks were right in the middle of one of his tattoos and you closed your eyes as your mouth latched on, nursing on him like your life depended on it---which it did. It tasted ordinary, like sucking on a penny, but it felt like velvet on your tongue, warming your insides.

Consumed with a sudden lust for the juice in his veins, you sucked harder, whimpering, and you didn’t see it, but Eddie’s eyes went back as he growled in the back of his throat at the pleasure of the sensation. You drank until your brain stopped throbbing, and then you rested your head back against the tree, a smear of his blood across your chin.

You noticed Eddie was close to you, his mouth at your temple as he licked a bit of your blood from a scratch there as it was healing. You jerked to the side, surprised to catch him wanting to sample you again.

Your eyes locked. “What do I taste like?”

He searched your face, aroused by the sight of his blood on your mouth. “Like...memories. Like ice cream and summer breeze and suntan lotion melting on warm skin.”

Your lips were almost touching as he confessed this to you. There was no vocabulary for him to properly explain the many layered depth to your blood; it was sweet and savory, and it also tingled in the back of his throat like pop rocks or fireworks and made him feel alive again if only for a few moments.

You lifted your hand to your throat to find that the rope burn was gone, and your ribs didn’t feel like they were broken. You were just about to ask him another question, but then he was on his feet in a flash, putting his jacket on.

“Also,” he flipped his hair out of the collar of his leather. “Now that you have my blood in you, I’ll always know where you are,” it sounded more cryptic than he meant for it to, and so he added, “just in case you ever need my help again.”

You frowned. “But, how will you know if I need help?”

He busied himself rolling his cuffs up. “I’ll be able to sense your fear.”

You were letting that sink in when he spoke up again. “And don’t be surprised if you have some dreams about me.”

“Dreams?” You raised an eyebrow.

He turned his head and rested his tongue between his teeth as he figured out how to say it. “The sexual kind.”

“Oh,” you looked down, suddenly embarrassed. He stood there shuffling his foot on the grass and you had so many questions for him. How had he become a vampire? Was it something that he chose, or was it forced on him? How long had he been one? You were trying to choose which one to ask when he spoke.

“Hop up,” he said, gesturing for you to get on his back like you were a little girl. “I’ll take you back to your hearse.”

Normally, you hated when men tried to pick you up, but Vampire Eddie carried you across the street like you weighed no more than air. You had your arms around his shoulders and his hands were cupped under your thighs; the vanilla sandalwood of his hair blew across your face in soft tendrils. He lowered you to the ground once he got to the parking lot, and you both looked down the alleyway at the Klemp bodies that Eddie had dropped in his effort to rescue you.

You swallowed. “It’s illegal for vampires to kill humans,” you said in a hush. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for this. I’ll tell the police I was---”

“No police,” Eddie stopped you in a gruff voice. His jaw muscles flexed as he turned to you. “It’s also illegal for humans to drain a vampire for sport,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket and bit one with his teeth to pull it out of the pack. It bounced there as he talked, squinting one eye at you. “I’ll take care of them, you don’t have to worry about it, princess.”

Since he’d just saved your life, you decided to let him get away with the pet name.

He lit his smoke and took a tight, hissing inhale before aiming the exhale over your head. “I’ll stay here to make sure you get on the road okay.”

You looked down at yourself. “Yeah, I suppose I should get home and take a shower,” you noticed that your bag was in the gutter next to your front tire and you bent to pick it up, along with your keys up. “Guess I’ll see you around the trailer park.”

Inside the hearse, you watched from your rear view mirror as vampire Eddie leaned his back against the wall to smoke and make sure no one bothered you. He picked something off his tongue as you started the engine, and then you lowered your head to shift into gear.

You were not surprised this time to find him gone when you looked up.

-----

"Dig if you will the picture of you and I engaged in a kiss The sweat of your body covers me Can you my darling? Can you picture this? Dream if you can, a courtyard An ocean of violets in bloom Animals strike curious poses They feel the heat The heat between me and you How could you just leave me standing alone in a world so cold?"

-- When Doves Cry//Prince

------

Part 3: The taste of you

——-

Thank you for reading!

[transparentbeardmentality]

People on twitter finally figuring out what @dekacchannn has been saying forever:

Bakugo is connected to OFA.

Yah! He can see All Might's vestige! He has OFA stars in his eyes!!!

....

Now for my interpretation and speculation that I don't see anyone talking about...

Bakugo freaking KNEW he was tapping bits of OFA WAY before the battle. That's why he's not at all surprised to see the AM vestige, and just says "Oh. Right.."

It perfectly explains why at UA again, he is looking so uncomfortable, sweating bullets, explaining his new (saving Izuku unlocked) move to Izuku/Deku. He's not just sweating because that's his thing. He never just sweats in battle like that!

Sweating bullets gets used a lot to convey intense/awkward discomfort. I think he was panicked about breaching the topic of OFA power up! But Izuku totally blanked him... Bakugo didn't really wanna have this confusing conversation to start with (but I believe he was trying to broach it anyway). So when Izuku doesn't respond openly, he drops it immediately.

Like Deku, he withheld important information about how he unlocked it -and what it means- because their relationship feels like a fragile, intense mess. It's way too important for him to jeapordise.

Bakugo was very insecure and afraid here!

And I don't think Bakugo knows what to make of the OFA thing, or do about it. Izuku clearly has no idea, or he'd say something, right? He had an opening, and nothing?

He knows his feelings for Izuku are intense.. Everybody does. But the well goes deeper, or he wouldn't be afraid to talk about something so important, involving feelings he's already revealed.

I totally agree with theories that it's a love connection, not a reminant of a non-manga movie -even if some crossover characters appear. There's no way Horikoshi doesn't want his beloved manga to stand on its own.

And his beloved manga talks about people being in love, what's in their hearts, feeling like dying without their person, overwhelming emotions bending rules, and Deku's control your heart (over Bakugo) plotline.

I also wonder if the reason Bakugo reacted so strongly to Deku holding his hand out to Aoyama is because it was symbolic of Deku lending his strength (and compassion) to him. Bakugo may have worked out that his OFA connection works, because in some way, honorable Deku has had his hand extended to him -for as long as he can remember. Because that's what Deku does. Deku is a saint. And maybe OFA is an extension of that for him.

I think that OFA connection strengthened too, when Bakugo learned how DEEP that part of Deku went for him.

He cannot dismiss Deku's feelings as him being a bleeding heart over every person when Shigaraki is telling him that for Deku, he is 'The' person -and is bent on killing him because of it! That's shocking (also terrifying) information.

Remember Bakugo said he didn't expect the apology to change anything between them, but Shig knowing about 💚Bakugo💚 means he was unmistakeably Deku's closest person, before he even apologised!

Bakugo feels so much for Izuku, but thought he had to start mending things to even be considered a real friend... Especially since Deku has so many friends and close people! He just saw them all pour out their deep affections to bring him home to UA. He does not think he is special.

But Izuku has a secret! (At least from Bakugo, no one else could possibly be confused at this point.)

So Shigaraki taunts Bakugo for falling behind Deku. He's just a minnow. But all he can focus on is something to the effect of -'Holy shit. He loves me. He loves me.. I need him to know that I-.. I need to live up to him! Izuku...'

The secret feelings reveal made him brave and honest with his own heart. There's nothing left but longing to be worthy of him, and be with him. He makes his last stand for him. And in the end, he reaches out for Izuku too -even though Izuku is not there with his own hand this time.

And this is when we first see the AFO stars are in his eyes. He does reach him. Or at least their connection. And that's why we see All Might, and why Bakugo is not surprised. But Bakugo seems resigned as though it's too late. He's already reminiscing.. But I believe All Might is going tell him it's not over. That he has to save Young Midoriya, and how.

What else could he possibly be there to say?

I can't wait for Izuku to find about Kacchan being OFA love-bonded to him.

[luvletters4nagiseishiro]

break my heart | fuckboy!oikawa

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ oikawa is the school's most renowned playboy and he tries his best to win you over

cw: gn!reader, college au, slight angst, suggestive, but no smut, mutual pining

notes: the slightest blue lock crossover btw

you were irritating to him. the very thought of you boils his blood-- for the simple fact that you showed no interest in him whatsoever. he was the most popular amongst the school, his groupies heart-eyed at the sight of his face, a simple smile from him could make anyone blush- except you.

it was that one day that made him distraught, almost hysterical. you two were in a calculus workshop and sitting in between you two was your friend who had been trying her best to hide the fact that she was completely enamored with oikawa. it's been three weeks into the semester and you couldn't help but wonder what your friend megumi saw in him. to you he was just a pretty face who could set some volleyballs, nothing more.

on top of his obnoxious personality, it also annoyed you just a little bit how he excels in class for someone who you have never seen pick up a pen in the last two semesters. it just sucks that he's always on par with you even with all the hours you put into your studies, but you don't dwell on it too much.

"anyways,, this is boring. let's chat." oikawa grinned playfully, adjusting his body to face you and megumi.

"have you finished the work?" you don't even glance at him and continued to click away on your calculator.

"did it last night." he said casually, leaning against the chair.

how? before you question it any further, megumi piped in. "are you guys going to the music festival in the city this weekend?" her body is completely facing him, obvious that she is directing the question at him with an ulterior motive.

"hmm, i was planning to but i would need someone fun to go with or else it'd be boring." he mused, eyeing you as you don't even bother to face him when he's talking.

"i mean we could go toget-" but before megumi could even finish that sentence, he leaned in forward on the desk.

"if y/n went with me, i'd have a lot of fun." his cheshire cat smile never failed to send shivers down your spine. you turned to see megumi's scowl on her face which made you curse under your breath.

"no thank you." you said quietly, taking a quick glance at her sour expression.

"why not?" he whined, his eyes glinted with amusement as he waited for your reaction.

"i don't think i'd have fun with you at all." you said nonchalantly. you didn't lie. you didn't think you had anything in common with oikawa at all. even if you liked the same music, how strange would it be for you to go to that music festival with him out of all people?

his grin quickly faltered, his face turning blank. he retreated from his position and went slumped back into his chair. he was stumped. every time he tried to make an advance on you, you would just flat-out reject him with no hesitation. it's been like this for months and it's driving him crazy. he even asked in front of megumi on purpose. to show that he only wanted you. and no one else.

after that day, he decided to stop plotting ways to get your attention because he was so busy with club activities and an on-going tournament. that didn't stop him from being his cocky self, flirting with girls that would watch him at the gym and even entertaining the female professors.

but every time oikawa would catch a glimpse of you in class (he tries to at least once every 5 minutes), he couldn't help but feel a burning sensation in his chest at the fact that you still weren't his.

you only realised recently that he barely talked to you in class, his playful remarks were no longer the first thing you heard when you sat down, his teases were no longer distracting you when you tried to do the work. you felt slightly relieved that you were no longer a target of his antics, because you believed deep down that everything he said and did was just a ruse, something to keep him occupied in a boring class.

but, there was a feeling of emptiness that you felt whenever you expected him to give you a witty comment, but he doesn't. and he just looked away. suddenly, every time you saw him entertain someone else you were trying to figure out why your heart would ache in response. why your stomach would churn whenever he paid megumi the slightest attention- knowing that she was obsessed with him. you knew it was just his personally. it was natural for him as a playboy to find new girls to toy around with. but why did it bother you so much?

your other friend reo tasked you with going into the boy's locker room and dropping off his textbook during his soccer practice. you didn't know why he thought it was a good idea, but you couldn't say no because his notes have been practically saving your grades in your economics classes. you thought it'd be easy to do it around this time because everyone is occupied in the gyms training.

walking in, you immediately dropped the textbook in shock when you saw oikawa shirtless and covered in sweat. he was just about to change when he caught your eyes. "so you're sneaking into locker rooms to get a peak of me now?" the cockiest grin formed on his face, the grin that you denied you missed so much.

blood rushed to your cheeks as you took in the sight. beads of sweat glistened on his abs and defined arms, somehow accentuating every line of his defined muscles. your train of thought snapped when he stepped closer to you, the grin not leaving his very, hot face. you couldn't deny it anymore, as much as you tried to. oikawa was extremely hot. no matter how distasteful his personality was to you, his face card would never decline.

"who's this for?" he cocked his head as he picked up the textbook you dropped on the ground and handing it you.

"um. it's for reo." you mutter to the ground, not daring to make eye contact with him in this situation.

he groaned, "soccer players." he took another step closer to you, forcing you to look up at him. so tall. you thought.

he was too close, his lips were only a few inches from yours. and before you could take a step back, his right hand gripped your waist to keep you close to him. "you're really hard to please y/n." he whispered into your ear. the sensation tickling your outer ear, sending shivers down your spine. your heart has never raced this hard before.

"i don't know what you mean..." you breathed out. he lowered his gaze and you felt his breath on your neck, causing even worse heart palpitations.

"i nearly gave up on you, y'know." you tried to step back but for some reason you were frozen in place, you wanted to leave somehow but the feeling of his large hand keeping you in place gave you butterflies in your stomach.

"but seeing you now, i never wanted you more." that sentence alone made you lightheaded. and before your brain could process it any further, your body moved on its own to pull him in for a kiss.

his eyes widened at the sudden advance, unexpected from you to make any move, but it didn't take him long to kiss you back, and hard. he groaned, your lips practically molding together. his left hand kept your head in place. his other hand gripped your waist tightly, making sure not to let go. he didn't ever want to let go.

oikawa's lips were soft, and so was his hair when you tugged at the back of his head, dropping the textbook once more. he groaned against your lips when you matched his roughness.

but you forcefully pulled away, breathless. "oh fuck..." you cursed under your breath. it way was too hot in that room.

"that was not. i am not-" before you could start to make excuses for yourself, he interrupted you.

"are you free tonight?" he queried, giving you an all-too-familiar grin.

"yes." you blurted out, not thinking straight. but the idea of continuing what you started with oikawa after a date didn't seem too bad.

notes: a smut pt.2 would go well with this

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think the Statue of Secrecy in the Harry Potter books should be broken?

I mean, that's an interesting question, and not one I'm sure I (or anyone else for that matter) is qualified to answer. It's sort of like asking "should a large and fundamental part of a culture change". It can change, and there'd be fallout from that, and the result would be something entirely different.

What I will say is the statute of secrecy, at least as we see it in Britain, sets up a potentially dangerous state of affairs for a civilization and especially one that is insistent on remaining ignorant of its neighbors.

There's a technical term for this that I'm completely forgetting at the moment but the idea is that if you have an extremely small civilization, in which there is also extreme isolation, then that civilization's technology not only tends not to progress but also regresses. This is a matter of population and knowledge being lost (you don't necessarily have 1-1 replacement for skills and techniques to retain what the civilization knows) and difficulty in innovating for similar reasons.

Now, wizarding Britain isn't quite this, and that's because we have Half-bloods and Muggle-borns. The population is ridiculously small, with Harry's class in Hogwarts being around ~30 total and no matter how JKR tries to convince me there's thousands at Hogwarts we only seem to see 100s if we're being generous, and the "pure" wizarding families being even smaller (~30 families many of which have died out). But we also get a few Muggle-borns every year and we get Half-bloods from magical people marrying Muggles either directly or those who came from Muggles two generations or less ago. We see technology transferred in from the Muggle world and accepted at large in the train for the Hogwarts Express, the Knight Bus, cameras, and radios.

There is technological transfer as well as some diversity in genetics.

The problem comes in that the wizarding world by isolating itself is incredibly vulnerable to diseases (dragon pox is noted as basically having wiped out Harry's grandparent's generation) and conflict (Voldemort's responsible for the ending of several cornerstone family lines). One bad famine, war, and epidemic could end the wizarding world the way it is now.

As it is, they may already be at a breaking point and not realize it, if enough of the families died out. (The Weasleys can't supply 3/4 of the population and you have to have someone there already to teach Muggle-borns magic in the first place).

There's also the issue that by isolating themselves so strictly the wizards have no idea how Muggles work or the state of the Muggle world. Arthur is painted as the best we see and he's offensively bad, it's a common gag how little he understands about the Muggle world as a Pureblood wizard. While people like Hermione and Harry are better, they also stopped their Muggle schooling at 11 and both spend as much time in the wizarding world as they can even during the few times they're sent back to the Muggle world. This is especially dangerous as Harry and Hermione think they understand the Muggle world extremely well, and while they're better than Ron, they're not the same as someone who is a Muggle, especially after they become adult wizards and have no reason to interact with the Muggle world anymore.

So we get a superficial understanding of Muggle technology (they know certain things exist, especially obvious physical devices, but their solution to making them work is to enchant them to float and they think they've got it) and basically 0 understanding of anything else.

We do see some crossover in that the Prime Minister has a direct line to the Minister of Magic, but we also see that it's a "you don't call us, we'll call you" type relationship in that the Prime Minister has been trying for ages to figure out what the fuck is going on when Fudge and Scrigemore finally show up and go "Oh, yeah, there's a changeover and we have a terrorist back who's going to fuck your shit up. Sorry". It's very clearly a position meant to shut the Muggles up and have their aid when the wizarding world needs something from them, not the other way around, which is bad relations (seen in canon, the PM was not a fan) and also makes it clear that the wizards don't care what the Muggles do or what they're up to so long as they do it off their lawn.

And that means... well, things could get spicy without the wizarding world having any means of warning.

Not to mention, of course, that it's barely being kept in place. We have canonical villages of obliviated people who act a little funny in the head because the wizards didn't want to move/wanted to feel progressive by living with Muggles. We have Harry alone causing a number of incidents such as flying a car over half the country with the obliviators then having to obliviate said half of the country. We have Muggle-borns popping up with the Ministry seeming to have no means of keeping track of them without the Hogwarts letter. We have a complete lack of understanding of recent Muggle technology (guys, a very small percentage of people actually understand how computers work, how information is stored, how it's replicated across the web, don't tell me that someone with a primary education up to age 11 understands all the nuance of computers. You may get one or two, but it's not going to be many and they're probably not going to have Ministry jobs because they're going to probably be Muggle-born and maybe, maybe, Half-blood).

So, basically, I think the statute of secrecy is unsustainable. They're rolling dice keeping it in place and one of those days they're going to roll for something that will not allow it to hold.

Does that mean it should be torn down?

Again, that's that "should" thing we got into at first, things would change, it'd get very messy and very ugly, but it's a change and not something I can really ascribe morality to one way or another. It just is.

[corroded-hellfire]

Attend the Tale - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie proclaims to theatre nerd!reader that musicals are too happy for him. You then tell him the tale of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Note: This is partially because Gaten is currently in the show on broadway, yes, but also because it is one of my favorite musicals of all time and I myself am a huge theatre nerd.

Warnings: spoilers for Sweeney Todd, which has dark themes including bloody violence, murder, and cannibalism.

Words: 2.3k

Hawkins High School likes conventional. It likes when things make sense. For instance, it made sense when Chrissy Cunningham was nominated for Prom Queen, and Jason Carver for Prom King. It made sense that Nancy Wheeler was on track to give the valedictorian speech at graduation at the end of the year. What didn’t make sense—at least from an outsider's perspective—is you and Eddie.

Eddie Munson was all metal, band t-shirts, chunky silver rings, long wild mane, and tattoos. You are not metal. You are costumes, makeup, rehearsing lines and practicing songs for an audition. A theatre nerd, essentially. At night, Eddie blasts Metallica in his room, while you’re playing Andrew Lloyd Webber and attempting to hit the high notes in Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again. The two of you looked like opposite sides of the spectrum. But in reality, you were two sides of the same coin. Both passionate about the music that moves you, embodying the looks of your respective niches. 

When you met, there was an initial clash between the two of you over use of the drama room. Yes, it was used for Hellfire meetings, but it was the drama room and Eddie shouldn’t have thrown a fuss if you had to come in and grab a costume that had been left in there earlier. Once the original ire cooled, the two of you found you gelled together quite nicely. Only someone else who has that deep appreciation for music can understand what it’s like to feel the music in your very soul, in every beat of your heart, and every breath you take. 

Though there wasn’t a crossover appeal with each other’s music, both you and Eddie could appreciate and respect the other’s taste. Eddie would blast metal in the van on the way home from school, so you’d come to learn some of the songs and point out your favorites to your boyfriend. When the two of you were at your house, a Sondheim or a Rodgers & Hammerstein record would be playing in the background as you makeout on your bed. 

Eddie had seen you in the last musical Hawkins High had put on—Into the Woods. The dark take on multiple fairy tales had drawn Eddie in more than he thought it would. Obviously, he had only gone to see you—dragging Dustin along because the curly haired boy was the only one willing to accompany him—but he ended up being honestly impressed by the talent and hard work it takes to put on a show. Hearing you sing as Cinderella had almost moved Eddie to tears, something he would never admit to a soul. But Dustin had noticed and told you when Eddie had gone to the bathroom after the show. You recognized the same dedication and effort in Eddie when you saw him performing with Corroded Coffin.

After you begged Eddie to play The Sound of Music cassette you just bought while you’re driving around one weekend, he comes up with a thought that astounds you.

“You know, musicals are just too happy for me. Everything is always okay in the end, and everyone sings and dances and it’s happily ever after.”

You’re staring at him for a good minute before he notices. He raises an eyebrow at you in question.

“That is so not true!”

“Babe,” Eddie says, knocking the rings of his right hand against the van’s radio. “We’re literally listening to a show that has singing nuns and nazis. And guess what? Everything ends tied up with a bow.”

“First of all,” you say, flopping back in your seat with a huff. “This is based on a true story. So, sorry that the real Von Trapp family escaped the nazis. Secondly, there are plenty of dark musicals. You saw Into the Woods!”

“Yeah, it was dark for fairy tales. I listen to metal. The witch cursing a family doesn’t quite cut it as ‘dark’ for me.”

“West Side Story? It’s tragic!”

“Tragedy and darkness aren’t really the same thing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I mean, they can be. But they literally have gangs prancing down the street. Sad story, sure. But I wouldn’t say dark.”

You purse your lips in the way that Eddie finds adorable as you look out the window. A cheery song about favorite things playing isn’t helping you come up with any dark musicals.

“Aha! Phantom of the Opera,” you say, turning towards Eddie. “Kidnapping, murder, disfigured character. Dark enough for you?”

“Eh,” Eddie says with a shrug. “The opera part kinda cancels it out for me.”

Just as Eddie’s pulling into your driveway, your face lights up with an idea. Eddie notices it as he pulls the keys out of the ignition, the jingling of them breaking you out of your mini trance.

“Sweeney Todd.”

“Who?” Eddie asks.

“Sweeney Todd!” you repeat, as if just hearing it again will make everything clear to Eddie. Both of you get out of the car and you fumble to get your house keys out of your bag. “The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

“Did we switch subjects, or…? Should I know this Todd dude?” Eddie asks as he follows you inside. He kicks his shoes off next to the door just as you do, and you toss your bag onto the closest chair.

“It’s a Stephen Sondheim musical,” you say. “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

“A demon barber?” Eddie asks with a laugh. 

Spinning away from him and his dismissive chuckle, you stroll over to your collections of records. Nimble fingers pick through them until you find the one you’re looking for. Eddie just watches as you move to the record player and load up the album. The opening notes start slow at first, then gaining volume, with a haunting quality to the melody. It sounds eerily like music you would hear at a funeral. Then a piercing noise—a scream? a scrape? —slices through the air, startling Eddie. He won’t let you know it just yet, but this already has him intrigued. 

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd

His skin was pale and his eye was odd

He shaved the faces of gentlemen

Who never thereafter were heard of again

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, a smile curling on his lips. “Okay, you’ve got my attention.”

“It’s bloody and gory,” you say, jumping onto your couch. Eddie chuckles as he watches your socked feet move over the gray overstuffed cushions. You hold your hands out in front of you, fingers splayed as you begin to summarize the show in a melodramatic voice. “Sweeney Todd—who is actually named Benjamin Barker—returns to London after being wronged by a judge many years ago. Judge Turpin stole his wife and daughter. Like, literally stole. Not like he seduced her or something, he straight up took her and had her husband sent away.”

Eddie wrinkles up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s creepy as hell.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” you say with a devious smile. As you continue on with the tale, the music playing in the background, you keep walking across the couch, jumping to the adjacent couch as well when you come to the edge. Eddie watches you, an adoring look in his eyes. “So, Sweeney stays with this lady, Mrs. Lovett, who has a pie shop. And he starts up as a barber again, with the goal of getting the judge to come in so he can…” You run your finger across your neck, imitating the slitting of your throat. 

“Does he stick the bastard?” Eddie asks, jumping up on the couch you just vacated. 

“Hold on, hold on,” you say, shooting him a smirk. “This other dude comes in and recognizes Sweeney back from when he was Barker, so Sweeney kills him. When he and Mrs. Lovett are trying to figure out what to do with the body, she comes up with an idea! But is it too much? Never, for this twisted pair!”

Eddie laughs as he listens and watches. Your eyes are wide, a crazed look there as you describe the warped tale. Even if he wasn’t genuinely enjoying this debauched plot, he would’ve been thoroughly amused by your performance. 

“They decide to get rid of the body by grinding him up and putting him in the meat pies!”  

“Ugh,” Eddie groans, face full of disgust. “That’s morbid.”

“Told ya,” you say with a proud smirk. “But they don’t stop there. Every man who comes to Sweeney’s shop becomes the new flavor of the day. And the people love the meat pies. They keep selling out of them.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, holding his hands up in front of him. “I concede. This is a dark musical.”

“Thank you,” you say, offering him a dramatic bow. “The dead bodies do not just come out tap dancing or some other cliche, cheesy shit you accuse musicals of. Although now that I’m thinking about that, it would’ve been cool.”  

“So, how’s it end?” Eddie asks, jumping over to the couch you’re on.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you say, shaking your head and backing a step away from him. “You’ll have to listen. Wait! See! They’re about to tell you.” You hold your finger to your lips, telling Eddie to be silent so he can hear the final lyrics of the song.

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd

He served a dark and a vengeful god

What happened then, well, that's the play

And he wouldn't want us to give it away

Not Sweeney

Not Sweeney Todd

The demon barber of Fleet street

Eddie steps forward and tugs on your waist until you’re flush up against him. “You seem to really enjoy this creepy shit.”

“I haven’t even told you the rest,” you say, cupping his face in your hands. “There’s the judge wanting to marry the daughter he stole as well. A beggar woman who goes around asking men if they wanna fuck her. And then there’s Antony and Toby who are precious boys.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Might just have to borrow this record.”

“I thought you’d like it,” you say, a satisfied smirk on your lips. “I know my boyfriend’s taste.”

“Yes, you do,” he mumbles as he leans in and presses his lips against yours. The two of you share lazy kisses for a few minutes, just standing there on your couch in the middle of your living room. When you finally break for air, Eddie rests his forehead against yours and lets out a small laugh. “Who would’ve thought I’d find a girlfriend who can match my theatrics?”

“I think I outdo your theatrics, thank you very much,” you say. “In private, anyway. I know I can be my true, authentic weird self with you.”

“I love your weird self,” Eddie says, hands roaming down to your ass. 

“And I love you.”

Eddie grins and presses a few more kisses to your mouth. 

“Are there any duets in the show?” Eddie asks. “Could learn it and we could sing it together.”

The way your eyes light up at his words has his heart stuttering in his chest. He’d never admit it, but he’d memorize all of Sondheim’s compositions if you wanted him to. Anything for you. 

“Yeah,” you say, voice the quietest it’s been this whole time. Before continuing, you clear your throat and blink your eyes a few times. “My favorite song from it is a duet. It’s the one where they decide to put the men into the pies. It’s called A Little Priest.”

You quickly hop off the couch and stop the record. Carefully, you turn it over and place it back down. Your eyes scan the track list printed on the record’s jacket to find the right spot. Placing the needle back down, a surge of pride flows through you as you hear it start playing exactly where you want it to. 

Seems a downright shame…

Turning back towards Eddie, you try to emulate Mrs. Lovett. Kind of crazy, but even crazier for the man in front of her. That part you have down perfectly. The fond look Eddie is giving you makes your tummy all fuzzy and your head all light. Knowing that not only can you be completely and unabashedly yourself around Eddie, but that he actually loves you like that still boggles your mind. 

The song is funny, filled with puns and jokes, and you sing through the lyrics with ease. As the long song comes to its end, you step up on the coffee table and use it as your stage. Closing your eyes, you throw your arms in the air dramatically as if you’re riding a roller coaster. 

We'll not discriminate great from small! 

No, we'll serve anyone, 

Meaning anyone, 

And to anyone

At all!

Eddie claps as you finish belting the last note, and your face warms at his praise. A shy giggle escapes you as you curtsy on top of the table. Your boyfriend hops down from the couch and wraps both of his arms around your legs. He flops backwards so he’s lying on the couch, pulling you along so you’re on top of him. 

“You’re so damn cute,” Eddie says.

“Takes one to know one, Munson,” you say, finger coming up to boop the tip of his nose. 

“I feel like I’m gonna have to take you to Broadway as a graduation gift,” Eddie muses.

“Baby,” you whine, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t wanna take a trip with me?” he asks, jutting out his bottom lip in his most adorable pout. The big cow eyes only add to it. 

“Of course I do,” you say. “Not letting you buy me a trip for graduation, though!”

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “What if it’s a gift for both of us? We go up together over the summer? Huh?” He grins and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, me, whatever shows you want, then a nice big hotel bed at night. I won’t pay for everything, I promise.”

A giggle bubbles out of you and you rest your head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “Sounds perfect, Eddie.” 

“I love you, my little theatre nerd.”

“I love you, my adorable metal head.”

[bread-tab]

okay random 4am rant time, don't take it too seriously, but: people need to recognize there's a difference between "bad worldbuilding" and "worldbuilding styles you personally don't like."

bad worldbuilding is, for example: internally inconsistent, bigoted, or something else that messes up the plot or characterization of the story itself. sloppy. careless.

things that are *not* bad worldbuilding:

minimalism.

i've been thinking about this in the first place because i saw a post about the Murderbot Diaries a while back (don't know who made it, don't care; this ain't personal) saying the worldbuilding in those books is bad and lazy. to me, as an avid sci-fi reader and writer, that is clearly not true. but i understood why they thought this. the series uses extremely minimalist worldbuilding which intentionally withholds a lot of detail, in a way that is consistent with the (nonhuman, robot, depressed robot) first-person POV. this could also be a feature of the author's writing style in general—i haven't read her other works—but i wouldn't bet too much on it.

the signature of intentional minimalism is that there *are* details about the speculative setting—they're just doled out very thoughtfully and sparingly. the intent is to leave you a little hungry for more. it's to make you think very carefully about the details you do have. this is best suited to stories that already have elements of psychological and/or mystery plot types. the worldbuilding you do see should still be believable, internally consistent, and have interesting implications if you think about it a bit. but you are for sure going to have to think harder to get it.

if you're not in the mood, i will concede, a minimalist style definitely comes off as a bit dry. if you are in the mood, it's relaxing.

whimsy.

this is a big one for sci-fi fans in particular. see: the constant debate about whether any particular story is "hard" or "soft" sci-fi, and whether soft sci-fi is bad, etc etc. but worldbuilding doesn't have to be realistic to be good. you're allowed to have Jedi and humanoid aliens and time travel in your sci-fi. you're allowed to have historical anachronisms and astrology and po-ta-toes in your fantasy. whether or not they're silly isn't the deciding factor on how "good" these worldbuilding elements really are.

the key thing is tonal consistency. you've got a serious high-fantasy setting with its own strict, un-Earth-like theology and magic system, and you throw Santa Claus in there? yeah, that's not gonna land well. but C.S. Lewis can get away with that in Narnia just fine. why? because the Chronicles of Narnia are whimsical children's stories with a strong Christian/Western mythological influence already, and their central conceit is a crossover between the mundane world and the magical world. of course Santa can cross over too. it's whimsical, but it's not actually random. (and if you ventured into straight-up comedy, you could get away with random too. as long as it's funny.)

the unreliable narrator.

i don't have a good example for this off the top of my head (maybe Murderbot again? idk, i'm sleepy, fill in your own) but i'll tell you how to recognize when this is done well.

by definition, an unreliable narrator has some key misconceptions about their own world. so how do you tell what's going on as a reader? how do you know the writer isn't equally confused?

you connect the dots. solve the puzzle. in practice this is similar to reading a minimalist setting—but instead of just sparse clues, you also have a boatload of red herrings. you can catch some of these misleading details by comparing them to your real-world knowledge and saying "wait, this doesn't add up." other times, the false clues intentionally trick you by subverting those real world expectations.

the trick is in the consequences. regardless of what the narrator says, their actions should still have logical consequences. there should be things going on that the POV character doesn't know about. the character will be forced to learn and adapt their narrative because of these shifting circumstances. you can catch them in a lie. the inconsistencies themselves tell a story.

...

i'm gonna stop myself there because this post is long and i oughtta be sleeping. just. this is a distinction worth making. is it really bad worldbuilding, or is it simply not the genre you're craving today? learn the difference for your own sake. you'll have an easier time realizing if a story is something you'll find enjoyable to read, regardless of its actual quality.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) - Chapter 1

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader nicknamed "Juni"

Word Count: 3600+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I've had this idea in my head for well over a year and with the Fallout show being dropped (and absolutely AMAZING), I figured now was the time to post it! So this is a Triple Frontier/Fallout crossover au. Huge shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to probably hours of audio at this point of me talking myself through this fic. And to @deathbecomesnerds for listening to me prattle on about video game fics and giving me her own advice.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) Masterlist

May, 2067

"We're so proud of you, honey!" My mom hugs me tight, my cap nearly sliding off my head with the force of it.

"We knew you'd get top marks!" My dad claps me on the back and pulls me in for another tight hug, my cap fully falling from my head this time.

"Thanks, Dad." My mom hands me back my graduation cap and I put it back on my head, attempting to get it to stay put as I look out over the crowd of people.

"There's my favorite graduate."

I spin, nearly falling over in my heels but Benny catches me, chuckling as I right myself. His smile is wide and bright, but there's something else. I can't quite place it.

"What a coincidence. My favorite graduate is here too," I bop him on the nose and he chuckles again. He moves to kiss me but then his eyes shift over my shoulder and he backs up, clearing his throat, no doubt having made eye contact with my dad.

"Ben, will you be joining us for dinner?" My mom asks.

"Uh, sure. Save me a seat."

My mom squeezes my shoulder. "We'll see you at dinner, honey."

I give them each a hug before they leave, turning back to Benny. He immediately pulls me to him, kissing me deeply before pulling back.

"Can I take you somewhere?"

"I'll go anywhere with you, Benny."

He takes my hand, so small in his large one, and leads me through the crowd to his old truck. He opens the door for me and helps me in before hopping in the driver's seat. I scoot next to him and lay my head on his shoulder, Benny laying his arm across the back of the seat. We drive for a bit before turning into our neighborhood and pulling into the empty park. We get out and he takes my hand, pulling me towards a juniper tree that was in a field next to the playground. He pulls me to him and kisses me again, my cap long since forgotten in the cab of his truck.

"Why are we here, Benny?"

"Don't you remember this tree, Juni?"

I smile up at him as I glance at the tree. "How could I forget? We met under this tree shortly after I moved here. It's why you call me Juni. Like juniper." I gesture at the tree.

He smiles at the memory. "We were what...5?"

"Yeah. Such a long time ago. Now look at us. 18 and heading to college."

There's an awkward silence and I look up at him. "Benny?"

He rubs the back of his neck, not quite looking at me. "About college."

I step back from him. "You're not going through with the sign up, are you??"

He holds his hands out, trying to placate me. "Look. Will is already there. He flew through basic and they're putting him in a special force if he keeps it up-"

"There's a war, Benny-"

"Exactly. And I know we aren't there yet, but we both know there will be a draft eventually-"

"You don't know that!"

"And if I sign up voluntarily, I get some say in where I go. I'm a way better shot than Will so I think I can make it into his-"

"No. No! I can't...I don't....I'll go with you!" I'm fighting back tears, my voice catching in my throat.

Benny shakes his head. "No, sweetheart. You need to go to college. You're too smart. Get that masters in..what was it...bio-nuclear agriculture practices? Sciences?"

I shake my head. "I don't care. I want to be with you! Unless...do you not-"

Benny's face becomes serious. He cups my face and forces me to look at him, his eyes so bright but worried. "Don't think that I don't want you. I do. I want you forever and always. But I have to do this. I have to get ahead of it. This way, I can watch Will's back too."

My tears break free, sliding down my cheeks. "I'm scared, Benny. I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me."

"You'll find some other girl and...and..." Benny cuts me off with a kiss, my tears rubbing off onto his face. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a simple, plain gold band. Not too thick.

"Benny?"

"Look, I'm not forcing anything on you. I can't do that to you, especially signing up for the army. But I did make this promise ring. And, in a few years when you're all graduated, if you still want to, I'll add a rock to it and we'll get married."

I hold the small band in my palm, touching it with my fingers before looking back up at him.

"This was not the best proposal," he chuckles and I do too, despite everything.

"It wasn't a proposal. It's a promise. How about you promise to come home to me in one piece?"

"I can promise to try my best."

I nod. "I'll take it."

Benny slides the band onto my finger and pulls out a thicker band from his pocket and hands it to me. I slide it onto his finger, winding his hand in mine and for a moment, we both just stare at our hands, feeling the weight of our futures.

"When you get your own power armor, make sure to send me a photo!"

Benny smiles. "Fuck yeah I will!"

10 years later...

Benny and I had stayed faithful to each other over the last 10 years. My friends never understood why I didn't want to go out partying, dating around. "He said he didn't hold you to anything!" They'd complain. But I would just shake my head. Benny holds all of me, always has, since the day we met under that juniper tree. He took one look at my scared face, alone in this new neighborhood, and took my hand, told me everything would be ok and that we were friends now.

He'd have to be the one to leave because I never would.

We met up over the years, sometimes being lucky his off time would line up with mine. We'd make the most of our time together, Benny preferring to spend as much time as possible between my thighs and I wasn't going to complain about that. But every time we talked about adding a rock to the band, his face would get worried. He said things were heating up with the war and he didn't want me tied down if something happened to him. I told him ring or no, I was already tethered to him.

Then, about 3 years ago, he told me he was saving up for that rock. That it would take him some time. I didn't care how long as we were already married in my mind. Our times together became less and less as the Sino-American War waged on, both sides at a stalemate.

Then finally, in May of 2078, a few weeks after I graduated from Vault-Tec University with my Masters in Bio-fusion Agriculture, Benny knocked on my front door, already on one knee when I answered it holding up a beautiful diamond ring in exactly my style. Once he slid the ring on my finger, I pulled him inside, not making it past the front entrance way before we were tearing each other's clothes off, Benny burying himself inside of me as I try to not slide across the floor.

We were married that same night.

He had to leave a few days later, but we made good use of our time together.

2077

Around late August, Vault-Tec moved my research lab from the city proper to a smaller research lab just outside the city. It worked out fairly well as it was stationed near the vault that was basically up the hill from my parent's suburban home. The one I grew up in. I liked being out of the city. There were less soldiers here, people were stressed still but it wasn't as violent.

The beginning of October rolled in, bringing cooler weather and the start of my favorite season. Morale, as a country, was low, so people took to decorating for Halloween early, the decorations helping people to smile a little more. But nothing put a smile on my face like Benny showing back up, his entire unit, including his brother Will and their other "brothers" Frankie, Santi, and Tom, all returning to their homes.

We spent a couple weeks together before the phone rang in the middle of the night. Benny yawns, picking it up with a grunt, his back immediately straightening out at whomever was on the other end. All I heard was "Yes, Sir," before he hung up.

"You're leaving?" I ask, grazing my fingers across his bare back.

"Yeah," he turns, pulling down the comforter to reveal my bare chest, his finger tracing lines around my breasts, my nipples hardening at the touch. "But not for long. They just want us to escort a higher up when they visit Boston."

"Sounds serious."

He nods, his hand sliding lower, under the covers and pressing between my thighs. "It is. Very serious."

"So..d-do you have t-to leave?" It was hard to focus, the pressure between my legs building the longer he caresses me.

He leans in close, kisses me softly. "Not before I make love to my wife."

He leaves about an hour later, my inner thighs sticky with him, my heart racing not with bliss but with worry that he won't return.

October 23rd, 2077

I wake to birds singing outside my bedroom window, ringing in a beautiful Saturday morning. I roll out of bed, get ready for the day before heading over to my parent's house to stop in for a surprise breakfast. However, my parents were gone, headed into Boston for an appointment, according to our Mr. Handy robot, Hawthorne. In the meantime, the robot had made me breakfast, which I sat and ate, looking at the newspaper but not really taking it in.

I get bored of the paper and set it aside, flipping on the tv, hoping to catch something interesting. I really miss Benny. His absence this week has been weighing heavily on me.

"...followed by flashes, blinding flashes, sounds of explosions. We're trying to get confirmation but we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations. We do have coming in, that's uh...confirmed reports, I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detinations in New York and Pennslyvania. My God-"

The TV cuts out and I sit there, momentarily stunned at what the news anchor just reported. Nucelar explosions? That can't be right. But then the siren rings, it's high pitched wail sending goosebumps across my skin.

"Ma'am, I think you need to head to the Vault," Hawthorne advises.

I shake my head to snap out of it, quickly running for the door. When I get outside, soldiers are already in the streets, the vertibirds flying towards Boston.

"...If you are registered, head to Vault 111 immediately!" A soldier yells through a megaphone as my neighbors run screaming in the street, some towards the path that will take them to the vault. Others stay in their driveways, cowering in fear.

Someone pushes past me and I fall, scraping my palms on the pavement. I scramble up, just making it to my feet before someone else collides into me, yelling at me to move my ass. I take one last look around and run to the vault, my bare feet thudding across the dirt path.

I pass neighbors with trunks of clothes scattered everywhere, the husband pleading with the wife to leave everything and just run. My heart is nearly beating through my chest as I make my way up the hill, a small crowd gathered in front of the gate to Vault 111. An angry crowd, yelling over the loud wail of the siren and the whoosh of the vertibird propellers.

"If you're not on the list, you're not getting in!" An official looking man yells at a couple who is standing in front of him, the man shifting his weight to his back foot.

"I'm getting in there!" He starts to move forward, but then the high pitched whine of a mini gun starts up, the soldier in power armor, standing at least a foot over the man, pointing it at him.

"Ok, ok, fine!" The man puts his hands in the air and stands aside, his wife following.

The crowd starts to push together, but I force my way through them, yelling to the soldier.

"I'm on the list!"

"Back away! Back away!" The power armored soldier aims again and the people back away, but only a couple of feet. The uniformed soldier looks down at me, clip board in hand.

"Name?"

"Miller." I give him my first name as well as Benny's and his rank.

"Ben Miller's wife? Head on in. Quick!" He waves me through, but I pause for a moment.

"Do you know where he is?"

"No ma'am. Now please, head inside!"

I look out at the crowd of people, now trying to shove each other to get inside, the gate starting to groan with their press. But the one face I want to see, Benny's, is nowhere to be seen.

I'm sure he's ok. I mean, he's a soldier, in an elite group. He's just guarding some fancy higher up in Boston. I'm sure this is just a precaution. I turn my back on my neighbors and run, as fast as I can, to the platform. Another soldier waves me over and points to the platform, where I stand between some neighbors with a baby and the Hendersons, the people who live across the street from my parents.

My parents. They're on the vault list too. Maybe they got into one nearer to Boston? Is that even how this works?

"Almost there!" One of the other people shouts as we wait to be lowered into the vault. I look out over the tree tops from our place on the hill, the Boston skyline gleaming in the distance, my heart hurting that Benny isn't here with me. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'm still terrified.

BOOM!

The ground shakes violently. My eyes reflect the mushroom cloud that explodes over Boston, it's dome slowly floating up into the sky as its sounds reverberate through my body. I can't help the scream erupting in my throat as a violent wind comes whooshing at us a moment later, the city already in flames. The ground below me moves, lowering us into the vault. We all duck just in time, the wind and fire flowing over the space we took up moments before, the whole cement tube rumbling and shuddering with the force of the detonation. For what seems like an eternity, we're in pitch black darkness, the creaking of the pullies lowering us and the sounds of our own whimpers and whispers, the baby crying our only sounds to accompany us down into the vault.

Then light appears as we settle into place, our platform locking in. The gate in front of us opens and a man in a lab coat beckons us forward from the end of the ramp.

"Welcome to Vault 111! Step this way for registration."

"What happened to all of those people up there?" Someone asked.

"Please, let's just get you registered, and through decontamination, and then we can address all your concerns!" Labcoat offers as he gestures towards a woman in a bright blue jumpsuit, yellow stripes down the middle and around the hips like a belt, giant yellow numbers on the back that say 111.

"They're all dead, you idiot. That was a nuclear bomb!" Someone else replied.

"No it wasn't. I bet that was just a trial. This is all practice." He argues back.

"That heat didn't feel fake," someone else pipes up.

Gone. They're all gone. Benny...No. No, I'm sure he's safe, made it to his own vault. All those fancy rich people had vaults. I'm sure he made it in time and I can contact him once I get checked in. I'm sure the vaults all have a way to communicate with each other. Right?

I take a shaky step forward, wiping the tears from my cheeks, willing them to stop for at least check in. I head to the lady Labcoat indicated and she smiles warmly at me. I give her my name and she runs a finger down her list, tapping on what I presume is my name.

"There you are. Mrs. Miller, female. Is your husband-" she glances back down at the list. "-Benjamin, here?" She looks back up at me, a soft, friendly smile on her face, which falters as she looks at me.

"I...he...he was on a m-mission wi-with..."I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "My husband is Lieutenant Benjamin Miller. He's in Delta Force. He and his squad were guarding some higher up when....do...do you have any...I mean, do you know..." I can barely choke out words, my mind on Benny but also his brothers.

The woman smiles at me. "I understand. I don't have any information here, unfortunately. All they gave me was this clipboard and some boxes of jumpsuits. But I'm sure once you get through decontamination, they can find out for you. Ok?"

I nod, sniffling, feeling the sob trying to burst out of me. The woman looks me up and down, reaching into one of the boxes around her before handing me a folded up jumpsuit that I'm assuming will look just like hers. "There's a bathroom down that hall on the right. Go ahead and get changed, then head down this hall to the next man in a labcoat. Ok?" I take the uniform from her, attempt a small smile, but my face doesn't move. She gives my hand a little squeeze before I make my way to the bathroom.

I quickly change, zipping up the blue jumpsuit. That woman sure is a good judge of size. This thing fits me like a glove. I gather up my clothes and head down the hall she indicated, taking one last look at the giant vault door, huge and solid, before heading towards the next Labcoat, who was beckoning me to him.

"Hi, Miss-"

"Mrs. I'm Mrs. Miller."

He smiles, but it's...unsettling. Something about his eyes worries me but I can't quite put my finger on it.

"You can leave those here," He nods towards the wad of clothes in my arms and points to a large bin off to the side. "We require jumpsuits from all vault dwellers."

I quickly toss my clothes in the bin, just trying to get through this quickly so I can get more information on Benny. My hands are shaking and I'm holding back vomit, willing my brain to not replay what's happened in the last 15 minutes.

He smiles again. "Thank you, Mrs. Miller. If you'll follow me." He turns and heads down another hall, turning to enter the 2nd doorway. Inside the room is rather large and cold, and I shiver, holding my arms around myself as the Labcoat walks further in. There are what looks like pods, about 6 on each side, facing each other. They have a myriad of tubes and pipes coming from them, a little control panel standing next to each pod. The doors appear to open up as opposed to a normal door. We stop in front of one of them, the door standing open for me, and Labcoat gestures to it.

"If you'll just hop in, ma'am."

"What is it?" I look inside and see some cushions, sort of like a chair if your were standing. I glance around and notice more people coming in, all of them standing in front or getting into a pod, donning the bright blue jumpsuits.

"It's a decontamination chamber. We have to make sure everyone is clean and free of radiation and other unpleasentries before we allow you into the vault. For vault health and security, of course."

I nod. "Makes sense. I do have a question."

He looks irritated but then that smile is back. "Yes, ma'am?"

"When I get through here, I'll be able to talk to someone about my husband? He's a lieutenant in Delta Force and I think he may be in another vault."

"Absolutely. Our communications specialists can help you with that."

A sigh of relief escapes me. "So you can communicate with other vaults?"

"Oh yes. Sort of like a telegram. If he's in a vault, we'll find him ma'am. Now if you'll just step into the pod, we can get you through decontamination and one step closer to finding your husband."

My eyes glance around the room, seeing everyone else hopping into their own pods. I'm so nervous, that vomit starting to make it's way back up my throat. And I fucking need Benny. He can't be dead. The possibility that I'd have to face a future without him is nearly unbearable. I turn back to my pod and get inside, nestling myself down into the cushions. Labcoat taps a button on the panel and my door starts to close at the same time as the others. My breathing picks up, air visibly puffing out and I swear it's colder in here than it was in the room.

"Now just relax and you'll be clean in no time!" Labcoat smiles at me.

I take a deep breath, my thoughts only of Benny as my world goes black, my mind slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing I feel is my skin freezing, my body going hard, preventing any sort of movement.

I'm coming, Benny.

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