#YES FRANKENSTEIN MUSICAL MENTION

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

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"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

[girlboybug]

Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

[whoahoney]

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

[worldfullofash]

Robin Buckley as your girlfriend

First of all; look how pretty she is^

Second of all; she’s a total dork

Especially around her crush (aka you)

Robin = nervous wreck

Steve would have to reassure her before talking to you

He will literally help her mentally prepare

She finally manages to have a conversation with you in English class

It was one of the few classes you shared

You talked about Frankenstein and how good of a writer Mary Shelley is

And that’s how you gained a new friend!!

Well, you’re still friends for now…

Slowburn romance

I think you’ll be the one to make the first move

Because she’s clueless about how much you like her

You’re just hanging out at her house, eating pizza while watching some cheesy romcom

You wrap your hands around her neck and you think you might have broken her

Like she is frozen

She doesn’t know what to do

Wide eyed with racing throughts

You raise your eyebrows as a way of asking consent and she has enough strength to give you a small nod

And then you kiss her obv

After she recovered from the shock she has to remind herself to kiss back

Now we have a veeeery happy Robin

After you went home she immediately calls Steve

“STEVE THEY FINALLY KISSED ME! WHAT DO I DO? WHAT DO I DO?”

Her gifts are always very personal and well thought out

She looks at you like you hung the moon

Music and books help her escape reality

Just like reading this helps you escape the real world

Sooo reading dates>>>

Reading the same book and sharing your thoughts about it

Basically having a little book club between the two of you

Annotating in each other’s books

ABSOLUTELY WILL talk your ears off, but you love her for it

She is so clumsy

When she’s tired she trips over her words a lot

Whether you like it or not you’re now her personal pillow

Cuddle sessions

She’s like a koala, always clinging to you

If you’re not in band you attend her band practice to support her

And her eyes light up when she sees you staring at her

Keeps thinking about how lucky she is to have someone who knows what it feels like to be different

If you stand up for her, she falls in love all over again

She absolutely loves going to the beach with you

She collects trinkets and gives some to you <3

You have a movie night every friday

I mentioned this in another post but Robin loves your native language (if it isn’t English like hers)

Asks you if she can draw on your shoes

And yes, she draws boobies if you say yes

MY CONCLUSION: Robin is a cute little orange cat that I want to put in my bag and take with me everywhere

[thenightling]

The Supernatural and The Addams Family

One complaint I see a lot of about the Wednesday series on Netflix is "The Addams Family was grounded in reality. There was nothing supernatural about them! The Munsters were supernatural." Almost always someone will say "What about thing?" And comes the typical meme / joke response of "Well, they're just that Goth." Okay, outside of the disembodied hand that serves as a friend / pet / sex toy / lover (throw-away line in Addams Family Values about his relationship with Uncle Fester) here are some elements of The Addams Family that are definitely supernatural. 1. Uncle Fester is immune to electric shock, mercury poisoning (he ate an old thermometer) and other things that would kill most people. Not only that but he has his own high electrical charge where he can power a lightbulb with his mouth. This is all from the 1960s Addams Family TV series.

I won't bother to mention the kids surviving improbable scenarios since even in the movies there's usually a cut-away. 2. Grandmama is a practicing witch. In fact the lyrics of the 1960s Addams Family theme song include "So get a witch's shawl on, a broomstick you can crawl on." We're told that at least some members of the family are witches, if not all of them. Morticia's mother was played by Margret Hamilton (The Wicked Witch of the West in The wizard of Oz). Note: Morticia's mother and Grandmama are not the same character. When Grandmama curses Debbie in Addams Family: Values, her curse comes to pass later in the movie.

In The Addams Family Broadway musical there's even a joke line of "My mother? I thought she was your mother!" and Gomez and Morticia just shrug it off. She's theirs and that's all that matters. They just adopted the strange old woman who wants to be called Grandmama. 3. Morticia canonically has psychic powers in the 1960s Addams Family TV show. She has permeations, experiencing omens, and at one point felt it when someone stuck a pin in a map directly over their house. This is from the 1960s Addams Family TV series. This was not something invented for the Wednesday TV series. 4. In The Addams Family 1960s TV series Santa Claus is Canonically proven to be real. He shows up in the Christmas episdoe after each adult Addams dresses as Santa to try to make the kids happy.

5. Another witch in the family is mentioned in the Christmas episode. When the children were told that Santa isn't real, Gomez and Morticia reassure them by reminding them that they were also told that witches weren't real and they proved that wrong when they met a certain aunt. 6. Morticia's sister, Ophelia, in the 1960s Addams Family TV series has flowers growing out of her scalp. Flowers that Gomez is allergic to. This is actually partly the origin for Morticia cutting the flowers off her roses, Gomez is allergic to flowers.

7. Lurch may or may not be a zombie or Frankenstein style creature. Yes, the animated movie made him an escaped mental patient but the 90s Addams Family animated series gave him blue skin and a flat topped head, making him heavily resemble a Frankenstein monster. (Note: The Creature does not actually have a flat head in Mary Shelley's novel. This and the groaning is a movie trope.)

8. Cousin It.

9. In Addams Family the Broadway musical the Addams do a conga line with the ghosts of their ancestors.

10. Ophelia (Morticia's sister) is inhumanly strong (besides having flowers growing out of the top of her head.) She can flip Gomez onto his back with one hand. 11. Their library contains books that literally bring to life what's inside them. 12. Their house is definitely haunted. In the 2019 Addams Family animated series the House repeatedly told them to get out, and consumes coffee. Also Morticia refers to the entity as "The spirit." 13. Morticia talks to the ghosts of her parents In The Addams Family 2019 Addams Family animated movie. 14. There are singing severed heads in The Addams Family 2019 animated movie. 15. There is a sentient tree on the house grounds, named Ichabod. 16. Uncle Flambe has flame-hair. 17. Wednesday is able to control Pugsley via voodoo doll in The Addams Family 2 animated movie from 2021. 18. Wednesday was able to freak out another little girl by showing off that she can read minds when she wants to in Addams Family 2 the animated movie from 2021. 19. Lurch is indicated to have "cold dead" hands suggesting that at least in the Addams Family 2 animated movie from 2021 he is a zombie or Frankenstein-style monster. I know he has a mother in the 60s show but other incarnations don't seem to follow this. In the 2019 animated Addams Family movie Lurch seems to have escaped the insane asylum but the haunted insane asylum (which becomes The Addams Family house) had been abandoned for years, possibly decades. Bonus as this one is not confirmed. 20. The Addams' may or may not be immortal. In the 1990 Addams Family movie Gomez is trying to find Uncle Fester who has been missing twenty-five years. The 1990 Addams Family movie was deliberately released twenty-five years after the 1960s Addams Family series of the 1960s ended. There is continuity changes such as making Uncle Fester Gomez's brother instead of Morticia's uncle (pre-marriage) but otherwise the 90s Addams Family movies were meant to directly continue from the 1960s TV series. This means that in twenty-five-years no one aged. Not even the children. "Their Goth game is just that strong."

[susandsnell]

Movies with Scarecrow vibes?

Ahhh, thank you so much for sending this! This might be long-winded, as I tend to be, but such is the way of Cranerot!

Naturally, Brian de Palma's Carrie. Aside from the plot and thematic matches almost eerily to Scarecrow: Year One to the point I'd be shocked if it wasn't a direct inspiration, de Palma's camp balanced with heartrending drama and tragedy and a horror where nearly everyone involved is a monster has Crane written all over it. I actually have several tracks from the score on my inspiration playlist for when I'm writing him!

Hellraiser (1987)! Jonathan Crane is so, so, so Cenobite-coded (highly recommend @acapelladitty's Cenobite!Crane AU, incidentally)! An old house filled with secrets, a plucky heroine whose sanity is doubted but who wins the day (at a great cost), and creatures that want to bring you to the height of sensation until the joy is inextricable from the anguish...it very much suits his more sensual reverent speeches/quotes about fear. "We have such sights to show you" could so easily be a Scarecrow quote, and likewise, "Eventually, the victim desires the horror" could very believably be a Pinhead line!

Since you mentioned it in The Most Poetical Topic, Night of the Hunter (1955) as a Southern noir quasi-folktale thriller absolutely suits the more charming, insidious iterations of Crane, in atmosphere, setting, antagonist, and in the themes of corrupted religion. The themes of childhood fears and defeating your demons while also struggling with their humanity both suit different phases of Jonathan Crane in his life, and the responses to and from the people he knows and terrorizes.

On the note of the South, O Brother Where Art Thou provides heavy atmosphere that give off Crane vibes, bringing a mythic epic to the setting of his backstory, with the music and monsters therein giving a good feel of everything that built the man and the monster.

Also naturally, many a mad scientist movie! The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari gives us a corrupt asylum director who torments his patients until he eventually becomes one of them, and Re-Animator gives us an actual former Scarecrow actor, Jeffrey Combs, in a very Crane-like role when it comes to being penalized in academica for horrific and unethical experiments. (It's even set in the original Arkham for which Gotham's is named!!) The Fly isn't quite as on point, but it does still give those vibes as well. And although the degree of 'madness' when he plays him is debatable, any of Cushing's roles as any member of the Frankenstein family come to mind since he's very much an old school!Crane figure.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984): yes, yes, 'look out for Mr. Pricky-Fingers', in the words of Codotverse!Scarecrow, but fear gauntlets/needles gloves aside, Freddy is the boogeyman who is literally fed on fears, and he much better gives the feel of a distinctly Scarecrowish tormentor than, say, your average Pennywise or other. Nancy's speech to him at the end is highly reminiscent of those who've managed to successfully stand up to Crane over the years, too.

Halloween (1978): On the note of boogeymen, and other than the "one good scare" quote you yourself have mentioned, I imagine Scarecrow to move and function a lot like Michael Meyers; slow, creeping, inevitable. Every kid in Gotham City thinks this place is haunted. They might be right!

For the pure fanservice of it/JonBecky vibes, let's say both the Lon Chaney and Charles Dance Phantom of the Operas, Death Takes a Holiday (1934), The Shape of Water, and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir inspire how I conceive of the more romantic side of our beloved Scarecrow. I'll throw in Silence of the Lambs as well, since that gives us an incarcerated evil psychiatrist meeting his match in an intrepid young woman involved with the law who he forces to face her formative traumas, but who manages to come out on top despite his machinations.

A few Hitchcocks, honestly! The Birds is outright referenced in Year One and definitely gives life to the visceral horrors he underwent in the old Keeny chapel, whereas Vertigo more in atmosphere and obsession captures a lot of torment he experiences. I also do see shades of crane even in Norman Bates' "private traps" speech!

Thanks so much for sending this along!

[eating-plastic]

Headcanons: Roller Ricky General and Relationship Headcanons

A/N: Yes, I know I got done with a whole x reader fic with this man recently, but I got more ideas. This will include expansions on headcanons I mentioned in the fic and ones I didn’t. And yes, some of these will be relationship headcanons because I can’t help myself lol. That’s all for today. Bye!

🛼-It is implied that Roller Ricky would be in his mid-late thirties at the time of the game, but if I were to give him a specific age, I would say that he is 36-37 years old

🛼-He absolutely loves animals, and he occasionally volunteers at an animal shelter near Gallows Creek. While he has a preference for dogs, he doesn’t mind cats. Especially kittens, they are a close second to puppies when it comes to “warming his heart”

🛼-Speaking of animals, I should probably mention Maxy since he and Ricky are a package deal. I headcanon Max as being a German Shepherd. Idk why, that was just the first dog breed that comes to mind when I think of him

🛼-Ricky has a bunch of fun shirts that he sometimes dresses Max in. He even has some matching shirts of his own

🛼-Though he obviously doesn’t play the sport anymore, Ricky still enjoys watching football. He even bought a jersey of his favorite team for Maxy

🛼-While of course he loves roller disco, he also enjoys going on drives with Max in the front seat as a way to clear his head or get away from Gallows Creek for a bit

🛼-I can see him and Sandra being on good terms. While he’s not as crazy about jazzercise like she is, he doesn’t mind jogging with her from time to time

🛼-I see Ricky as being bisexual with a 50-50 spilt preference for men and women

🛼-This is because he is just looking for a person that he can hang out and have fun with. He wants someone who he can wake up with in the morning and go to bed with at night. Someone that he could see himself growing old with, and it doesn’t matter if that person is a man or a woman

🛼-This man is a massive cuddle bug. No one can tell me otherwise. Now, obviously he knows there is a time and a place for snuggling up with you and will respect your wishes on the matter, but if your down, he’ll be down. He also makes adjustments based on if you are shorter than him, taller than him, or the same height as him (I see him being 5′ 10″ / 178 cm)

🛼-While he does have his preferences when it comes to music, he’s not a music snob. If you listen to a genre or artist he’s not the biggest fan of, he’s not gonna tell you that “it sucks”. He’s more than happy that you can hear something in a song that he can’t

🛼-Speaking of music, Ricky will definitely make a relationship mixtape that contains songs that are significant to both of you

🛼-Dancing with him at the roller rink when it’s just you, him, and Max. That’s all. Just imagine that

🛼-This man is so good with kids. While he offers lessons for both adults and children alike, he often finds himself teaching kids. He’s encouraging, fun, and patient, which makes children like him. He also knows just what to say to calm down a kid that hurt themself or are getting discouraged at constantly falling over

🛼-All I’m saying is that if you and Ricky decided to have kids whether it be through adoption or ,if possible, getting you pregnant, he’s gonna be such a sweet dad  ❤️

🛼-As we know, he is apparently not too good with keeping secrets, so he would accidently tell you if he was going to propose to you. He’ll feel terrible about it, but you couldn’t care less. You’re happy to be his fiancé no matter how he pops the question 

🛼-His favorite movie genre is comedy, but he can sit through mostly anything. He’s not the biggest fan of horror movies. Especially ones that involve a masked psycho killing people. You can imagine why that might be a bit triggering for him. He’s cool with Universal monster movies like Dracula or Frankenstein tho

🛼-Ricky has a preference for spicy foods. I mean, he loves food in general, but the way to his heart is any dish with a bit of a kick to it

🛼-His love language is quality time. He loves spending time with you whether you’re going out to eat, taking Max for a walk, dancing with him at the roller rink, or just simply staying inside and watching TV

🛼-In conclusion, Roller Ricky is the ideal man and the reason why my standards have now skyrocketed. Thank you

[moonpetrichors-blog]

RFA + Saeran On Halloween

Tags: Headcanons, Halloween, Halloween Costumes

Warnings: None

Characters: Zen, Yoosung, Jumin, Seven, Saeran, Jaehee

What the RFA + Saeran would wear on Halloween.

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/12/22] ❞

Zen

Remember when Zen had a phase where he kept calling himself a Greek god?

He even edited his face over the statue of one.

Not to mention, he poses as Aphrodite on the April Fool's cover (mans better watch out for her 😭).

So, it comes to no one's surprise that Zen would dress up as an ancient God.

Of course he loves to show himself off, so he'll wear a sort of silky, white cloth draped around his body, paired with gold sandals.

He'll tie back his hair with a golden hairpiece.

Leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. His abs are on full display and he takes a bunch of photos lol

For some reason I can see Zen using body glitter?? If he was rocking up to a Halloween party, then all those lights are gonna be competing with Zen since he's the most shimmery one there.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Yoosung

Chat Noir.

I'M SORRY HE LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE ADRIEN AGRESTE

I took over a year off and cut you bitches some slack 🤯

TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND, SHES BAAAAACK 😍🤞

No but fr Yoosung would dress up in a cat costume for Halloween

Maybe not necessarily Chat Noir, but he would have the fake ears and all

His outfit would consist of one that is dark (Yoosung emo era)

Omg but can you imagine if he put on makeup for his costume

Yoosung with smudged eyeliner?? SIGN ME UP

I think it'd be so funny if Yoosung and Saeran were friends and (timelines aside), he'd point to him and be like "hey I look like you lol"

Ugh imagine bromance between them two. Like Yoosung can't do his own eyeliner for the life of him so Saeran does it for him instead 😭

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Jumin

See, I don't think Jumin would dress up for/celebrate Halloween at all, but for the sake of these headcanons he will because I said so

He's dressed as a vampire.

But, not just any vampire!

He's a vampire dressed as a brooding dark lord in the Victorian era, living alone with his cat in some high, high castle. (I'm a sucker for some Victorian vampires)

In this high castle of his (*cough* penthouse), he swishes his red wine domineeringly

I think Zen would tease him for his costume because if you thought Yoosung looked emo, Jumin takes the cake. And he's wearing eyeliner!

Does an evil spin on his wheely chair while petting Elizabeth whenever anyone disturbs him

He looks ✨expensive✨

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Seven

There were many ideas I had for Seven's costume.

An astronaut, honey butter chip packet, nun.

I think he'd make a cool zombie though

No I didn't decide this because of the zombie song (maybe)

He 100% goes trick or treating, except he just goes around scaring little kids,

While also stealing their candy in the process.

Like, he just sneaks up behind them right after they've left a house, and roars a Frankenstein-esque roar.

Forget the clowns of 2016, Seven is the one getting written about in news stations

Immediately gets a stomach ache after he eats the hundreds of candy he collected (stole, rather)

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Saeran

Okay, listen.

I know this might be a little bit biased,

BUT WHO CAN SAY NO TO A PHANTOM OF THE OPERA SAERAN?

Like oh my god he is literally so gorgeous in this costume

His hair is gelled up and styled to one side, and he's wearing a sleek black suit

He's also wearing the iconic white mask

His pants have chains on them because just yes

Saeran wearing suits isn't an uncommon theme, and while Suit Saeran isn't exactly one of the best versions of himself, I think it'd still be cool if he incorporated chains in his POTO costume.

Okay maybe I'm really biased

Side headcanon, Saeran is an avid musical fan.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Jaehee

Like Jumin, I can't see Jaehee dressing up for Halloween

Poor girl is always working she doesn't really get time to celebrate fun holidays like these

On the off-chance she can, she would be a witch

Basic dark colours with some purple accents to her outfit

You know the type of gloves and stockings that Misa Amane wears?

Yeah. Imagine Jaehee wearing lacey and gothic-style clothes incorporated into a witch costume.

I'm really just making everyone dress alternative in some form lmao

If homegirl had a broomstick she'd probably imagine smacking it over Jumin's head. Repeatedly

[fernsam]

i can feel it in my GUT(S)

Olivia Rodrigo's new album did what albums should do

2 years later after SOUR, Olivia Rodrigo released GUTS in September of 2023. In a broad sense, GUTS focuses on the story of being a teenage girl and making the wrong decisions. Specifically, fans speculate that the album is mainly about Olivia’s controversial ex, Zack Bia, a 26-year-old who dated Olivia when she was only 19. The album did an amazing job of explaining their messy history and used different musical features in a unique way to convey how complicated her feelings were/are about him.

The first song, “All American Bitch”, starts the album with soft singing and abruptly transitions into rock then back to soft singing. It is a catchy song that experiments with three different genres that flow together nicely. In an interview, Oliva herself said this was her favorite track because it was musically different. The contrast between the soft pop voice, where she explains society's expectations for her, and a rock/teenage dirtbag vibe, where she reveals her imperfections, show that she’s aware she’s done with trying to be perfect. Additional to the musical aspect, her screaming, and her confession that she “knows her age”, really set up what the album will be about: she’s a girl who made mistakes but she has accepted it. And in regards to Zack, she could be hinting about his expectations for her. The fact that this song is so over the place but makes sense at the same time shows how contradicting expectations are to be perfect.  It makes listeners understand the feeling of wanting to be free from all social pressures. 

The album progresses with her story, first by asking herself if seeing Zack is a “bad idea right?” She keeps on explaining how she knows it’s wrong to be with him but it's just so tempting. In terms of lyrics, this song isn’t as unique compared to the first one and there is not much vocal singing. On the other hand, I like how she talks to the audience like it’s a casual confession between friends. It feels like those situations when you’re trying to convince your friends that they’re not THAT bad. What really adds to this is the catchy instrumental with ambiguous genres. Pitchfork explains that it’s a mix of punk and pop-rock, but Olivia really pulls these two together to make a “Frankenstein” genre. Through her unique instrumental, and voice, she kind of convinces us that yes, she shouldn’t be in his bed, but it was an experience. The lightheartedness of the song tempts the listeners to agree with her reckless behavior. 

After two songs hinting about the bad, “Vampire” is where the real expression of how she feels about him comes out. I’ll start with the really obvious, Vampire uses a metaphor that compares her ex to a greedy vampire - someone who “sucked” the life out of her. Unlike the songs before, this song uses more piano and has a more sadder vibe. She really uses her voice to make the audience understand how predatory her ex was. The raw vocals were very impressive and she raised her voice at all the right points to really emphasize how helpless she felt. She really regrets how she ignored the signs, but that’s how abuse works.

The whole chorus about how he bled her dry and only came out at night really shows how exploitative he was and how much he impacted her. Even the dramatic instrumental at the end showed that she's glad to finally get this off her chest and finally put her frustrations into words. Everything about this song really convinces the listeners to understand how she felt with sympathy. 

Although I loved the three songs mentioned above, another song that is very popular is “get him back!”. Musically, I didn't really like this one. The chorus reminds me of KIDZ BOP, especially with the layering of voices. However, the background instrumental was unique and I could definitely see why people like this song. What really stands out in this song is the lyrics. According to Genius, she uses a play on words to say how she wants him back but also wants to get him back in a revenge sense. In this song, she does more acting than singing and delivers funny lines like “I wanna meet his mom to tell just to tell her her son sucks.” The humor adds to the idea of how personal and real this album is. Additionally, the contrast between the lyrics of love and revenge shows the listener how complicated emotions can be, and breaking up is not just sadness. Olivia addresses what other people may not have been able to say: even though he hurt her she still kind of wants him back. 

Although I really like the personality of the album, I’ll admit it’s not necessarily experimental and revolutionary, especially comparing it to her previous album SOUR. At the same time, I believe it’s really good in its own interesting way. I appreciate the effort she put into explaining her side of the story and she did a great job of expressing the mix of feelings she felt, from feeling self-confident to mischievous to heartbroken to romantic and to so many others. Through this album, she was able to make the listener understand these emotions as well. The diverse use of different instrumentals and voices (seriously she went from casually talking to full-on vocals and it made sense) really flowed together and put all these complicated chaotic emotions into one cohesive album. GUTS can provide comfort to people through the acknowledgment that emotions are not always sensible.  

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Just wanted to let you know that I noticed the devil fruit name you used "kiku kiku no mi" and Idk if you mentioned if you know about this (again, only just found your blog) so forgive me if you have, but I wanted to fangirl about it real quick (and if you know about this stuff then I guess this is for your readers)

I took Japanese as an elective this year and I developed a bit of an hyperfixation on the grammar BC it's so cool (why yes I was bullied in school, how could you tell?) how well set out everything is compared to english as the Frankenstein's monster of languages

Basically: "no" is a single character, and single characters can either be used in words (like kimono) for their phonetic sounds, or some characters are used on their own either as words or as particles. "No" as a particle, is used to specify. It can be used to indicate something belonging to someone - kind of like how you'd say "Clara's bike" in Japanese you'd say "Clara-san no jitensha(bike)" - or something belonging to a category - like saying you have a Japanese friend would be "Nihonjin no Tomodachi". (Friend, belonging to the category of 'japanese people')

So when devil fruits are called "____ ____ no mi" it's referring to a fruit (mi) belonging to a category. (E.g, Devil fruit of gum).

I'm pretty sure (but haven't checked) that devil fruit use nouns and onomatopoeia, but no verbs.

Here's the fangirling:

"Kiku" is the dictionary/plain/root form of the verb 'to hear' (which I'm sure you knew), basically it can be used on its own as a verb in casual company, but typically you'd conjugate it in polite/formal conversation (like how "write" can become "writing" (present), or "wrote" (past), etc.)

"Kiku" is ALSO the root form of the verb 'to ask', so the words for asking, asked, will ask, and the words for hearing/listening, listened/heard, etc., are exactly the same and you'd tell which is which based on context. (There's also another word for asking but they're pretty much interchangeable and we're gonna focus on the metaphor of this word)

Kiku can be conjugated into many different, more specific meanings (as it only applies to the present and future, or habitual actions such as saying you regularly listen to music, and is only for casual convo, not polite), but always has the same root.

BUT, Japanese verbs can be classified by their characters (which inform how they conjugate) OR as transitive and intransitive.

Transitive verbs can (or have to) take on an object/noun (e.g; 'eat' can be used as "I ate" or "I ate (noun)"), while intransitive verbs typically cannot (e.g; you can only say "I laughed" instead of "I laughed (noun)").

"Kiku" is a transitive verb. You can say "I hear" or "I listen to music" and you can say "I asked" or "I asked a question".

And SOMETHING ABOUT IT is driving me crazy.

The thought of karimi never getting asked if she wanted these powers and never being able to ask them to stop.

Only ever knowing her 'kiku' fruit for the meaning of 'to hear', and occasionally 'to listen' when it's intentional, but it's never not 'to hear' because she doesn't have a choice about that.

Something about never being able to ask someone if she can hear their thoughts because the fruit doesn't work like that and she despises that it robbed her agency but the agency of those around her as well. Something about how hard she worked to be able to NOT hear. Not just to give her reprieve but to give agency back to those around her.

Something about how she can't ask before she uses her powers out of respect, but she also can't really ask to hear someone's thoughts out of love, the way you might ask someone to tell you what's on their mind.

Something about how, given the structure of Japanese verb sentences, "I hear your thoughts" wouldn't be too much different from "I ask your thoughts". (If you used a very basic sentence)

How, Karimi might desparately try to ask for someone's (*cough* Mihawk *cough*) thoughts, genuinely wanting a connection, only to have it sound like she's saying she'll read them anyway, and hate that she has that taken away too.

How, if someone (*cough* MIHAWK *cough*) were to finally ask her for her thoughts, she would probably think it would be to even the playing field, think that they despise her powers as much as she does. And maybe, at first, it is.

Until they ask for her thoughts.

Ask her if she wanted this ability, ask her if she hated it, ask her if there's anything they can do, ask her about her life, ask her about her past, ask her about her grandma, ask her about her hopes and dreams, her favourite colour, how she likes her tea. Until it's undeniable that they're not just evening the playing field.

Or maybe they are, but not for them.

Maybe someone finally understands how much of a burden it is to constantly know and hear but never be known or heard in return.

Because they did hear her. Maybe not her thoughts. Maybe not like she heard them. But they heard her. Over time they grew to know her, and recognised, even without use of her devil fruit ability, that she didn't ask for this.

So they're asking for her.

(also, could be interesting for a secret power in addition to hearing thoughts. I mean even if you just stick with the current power, if she did ask someone something they'd probably think of the true answer even if they lied or didn't say anything, so it's also like she has the power of asking)

Kinda bouncing at the fact that you noticed it was a verb rather than a noun like known canonical devil fruits. I studied Japanese a little on my own (Rosetta Stone and an old app called Human Japanese that may or may not still exist) just as a hobby, and got a minute understanding of sentence structure and grammar out of it, so this is just wonderful honestly ❤️

There's actually a very stupid reason for the name of the fruit.

When her father's crew found the devil fruit, they didn't know what power it possessed. They were planning most likely on selling it off to the highest bidder, though a few of them were of course daring each other to just eat the thing and see what happened.

Karimi got a hold of it first, on a long stretch between islands on the Grand Line. She was pushing four years old, she was hungry, it was a pretty fruit. Her father's first mate, Janx, was supposed to be guarding the thing...but he fell asleep. There may have been rum involved. The chest it was in was left unlocked because the crew's cook almost talked him into eating it, and he forgot to lock it back up.

Big whoops.

Cut to three year old Karimi screaming bloody murder about "voices," and barely getting caught before she can shove a knife in her own ear, at which point Janx wakes up and realizes oh shit the devil fruit is gone he is so dead

Captain Lyon (hates his given name, personal reasons) is pretty out of his depth on the matter. He was only seventeen when Karimi was born. He's been on the Grand Line a couple years, and pirating is a lot easier than parenting, and he has no idea what's going on or how to deal with the fact that his child is hearing voices...until Janx pulls him aside and indicates the empty chest and just points at Karimi, totally speechless.

Lyon barely manages to keep his cool and not outright murder his first mate, more for Karimi's sake than anything, and he and his first mate figure out pretty quickly that the girl can now hear their thoughts. Everyone's thoughts.

Janx is the one who coins "kiku kiku no mi," sort of in passing, while they're discussing how to handle the issue.

Lyon tells him that makes no sense. "Kange" (for thought) or "Koe" (for voice) would make more sense, given the general naming procedures of devil fruits.

Janx just shrugs and points out that kiku "has a nicer ring to it, though."

And...it just sort of ended up sticking because Janx kept calling it that and Lyon got tired of arguing about it. Janx is made up of pure chaotic energy that counterbalances Lyon's relatively more laid back personality, I'm honestly itching to write Lyon's story because I love them both so much.

Where Mihawk is concerned, he's pretty put off by the idea of anyone being in his head, voluntarily or otherwise; and he doesn't like the idea of his associate wasting her energy using Haki to keep the ability "turned off," so he takes measures to prevent both pretty early on (which will be covered in either the next chapter or the one immediately thereafter). The measure in question is an important bonding point between their characters so I won't be saying anything else on the subject here.

[caswellseyes]

Didn't you mention a Victorious AU at some point? If yes, any headcanons for that?

yes anon i absolutely did!! i'm surprised you remember honestly cause i think i only mentioned it like once? but it's a very very fun one to think about so i'm happy to share some headcanons!

so this is an au based on the nickelodeon show victorious. i've actually been thinking of making it a smau - i've never done that before, but i found a template for those slap update thingies, and it'd be fun to try something new... who knows, we'll see. if not that, it'll be a oneshot series, just small bits to work on between other projects i think. it'll exist in some sort of shape at some point lol. okay now headcanons:

in this universe, the molinas just moved in with ray and rose's longtime partner, trevor, and his kids carrie and bobby. both carrie and bobby attend a fancy artsy school

julie, carlos, carrie, and bobby definitely have nights when the adults are on a date and it's just the four of them at home. sometimes they have friends over, but at least once a month they put on a movie, order takeout, and have a sibling night. it always starts out tame but ends with them, like, sliding down the stairs on mattresses or someone getting a new piercing or something. one time, they adopted a cat

they did text and ask for permission. trevor gave it but didn't think they were being serious. the adults were in for a big surprise when they came home

sunset curve do jam together whenever they can, but they're primarily solo artists. luke writes the songs they do together and a bunch of solo stuff, bobby focuses on the recording side of music, reggie does country stuff, and alex does everything from dance to stage crew to musical numbers. also drums, of course

just. the great ping pong scam, but sunset curve. that's all.

willie attends a regular high school for most of their life. his dad works at hollywood arts, so he's reluctant to attend because he doesn't want to be accused of favouritism. he actually befriends julie at that school before she transfers, and they end up transferring after a couple of months as well

luke absolutely has some sort of musical instrument locker situation. reggie would do the clear locker, because he doesn't have anything to hide, and willie changes his every couple of weeks to keep things exciting. carrie covers hers in glitter. there's a disco ball inside

carlos meets all of his siblings' friends in the most ridiculous situations. like, he's introduced to alex and reggie when reggie accidentally used real glue for alex's creepy makeup, and walks in on the two of them trying to rip a very convincing frankenstein's monster-mask from alex's face, and he meets luke when luke is taking a challenge and is singing everything he wants to say, but, like, musical style to make it a true challenge

yes, carlos did shut the door on luke when that happened. nobody blames him for it, not even luke

[scumbag-monthly]

The Young Ones - Interesting 🎉

Original air date: 7.12.82

Reviewed by: @the-tardis-in-221b-baker-street

I’m going to jump right in and explain why I chose to talk about this particular episode. With a show consisting of 12 exceptionally and fantastically written episodes, it is just too difficult to select an all time favourite episode of The Young Ones. However if you had to hold me to ransom, I’d still not be able to choose but the episode Interesting, is pretty much up there amongst the favourites. The added fact is, it’s also a PARTY!

The opening sequence to the show is something that changes from series one to series two which I must say, series one’s opening is the preferred out of the two. If you were to show this show’s opening to anyone who had never seen it before, I feel like you would be able to build a pretty good picture into what the show entails and what sort of characters you’re dealing with. Points to mention, Vyvyan, the looks of which would stereotypically not be that of studying to be a doctor, Rick with the protesting, Neil the hippie looking bored with his studies and Mike paying someone on the side for his degree. I don’t think that you could have used anything else to use for the opening’s music. Cliff Richard, The Young Ones, it’s cheesy, need I say more. Already an iconic song but I think it just makes it even better to know that the guys sung it themselves. It’s got that added touch.

The first scene of the episode, we see Rick and Neil attempting to move the furniture around, as well as Mike’s TV. After it breaks in Neil’s hands, they are both quick to cover up what they had done when Mike walks into the living room. The way they acted when he came in could be compared to a parent walking in to find their kid had done something naughty. It has been said multiple times by the cast members that Rick and Vyvyan were supposed to be the naughty children and Neil and Mike are the Mum and Dad of the group so this really solidifies this. You can really tell who is the alpha of the house and that is most certainly, definitely Mike. When questioned about the fag butt on the carpet, Rick and Neil are so quick to blame Vyvyan, almost like their necks are on the line.

The disgusting hovel of a student house the boys are in is just as iconic as the characters themselves. The more you pay attention to the background, the more you notice and the little hidden items, left open for interpretation. For instance, the horrible (I think it’s cool though) 70s bar covered in tat. The mounted deer head above the doorway to the living room (I’d hate to think where they got that, probably nicked from a pub). The vases, fancy lamps etc were probably put out to try and show off to the guests of the party. The Anti Nuclear Campaign poster that clearly Rick put up. The mismatched furniture, really stereotypical of a student house.

“He says he’s only got to do two jobs ‘cause he hasn’t got many friends, you know.”

“What are you on about, Neil? He’s got loads of friends.”

“Oh, yes, but apparently he doesn’t like any of them.”

Enter Vyvyan with the frankenstein hoover. When I say this scene made me laugh the first time I watched it, I absolutely HOWLED. The physical prop element of the 80s is always a favourite of mine, whether it be an obvious dummy (my favourite) or it be a hoover that has a mind of its own and sucks up hippies.

“This is absolutely brilliant! You can’t get any cleaner than that!” - Vyvyan

The vegetables in the fridge are worth a mention too. The props department must have had an absolute whale of a time creating them. It’s just the disgusting, exaggerated, gross student fridge coupled with vegetables begging to be eaten even though they had seen better days, is genius. The fourth wall breaking when Rick pushes Neil’s friend into the fridge was also a genius move. They are self aware that kids might be watching. It makes me wonder whether the BBC actually had seen what they had done and made them put a warning on it, or that they had decided to do that as a fourth wall thing.

“How was that for you darling?” “Electric.” This little silly prop when Mike pulls the plug out the socket is one of my favourite moving props out of the entire series. That coupled with the quick throwaway gag is just top tier for me.

I was listening to the Talking Bottom podcast and when interviewing Paul Jackson, they had mentioned the sandwich that falls on Dawn French (which by the way was hilarious foreshadowing) the props department had shown the original sandwich prop that they had made to the producers, which took ages to make. They then turned around and told them to make it ten times bigger!

I know he doesn’t really tolerate Neil as such because he’s stuck in that house for the university year, but the way he immediately tells Neil to “Tell it (Neil’s friend) to get out” so aggressively, it really makes me wonder about Rick’s tolerance for hippies in general. I would say with all the bickering, squabbling, punching, kicking, bullying etc, what it really boils down to is that although these four misfits are stuck together, they’re really friends with each other. So even with that in mind, if Rick is sort of friends with Neil, does that mean Neil is an exception to his opinion on hippies?

“Look I'm afraid you’ve got the wrong house, I don’t believe in God.”

“Well then how do you know his name, smart arse?”

Dawn French’s small performance in this episode was so memorable and further reason why this is one of my favourite episodes is because it has some of the most excellently written gags.

“Ah! A locust!”

“No, I'm supposed to be an ant.”

Silly, clever, genius. Need I say more.

Coming from an interest in the costuming of the show, it’s very interesting to note the costume changes in this particular episode as it doesn’t happen much outside of this episode. Rick’s blazer and jeans swapped with canary yellow dungarees and two pins from his blazer for decoration. Whatever possessed him to have yellow dungarees, I shall never know. It makes me wonder whether he spent ages deciding which badges to put on his dungarees, or what was going to impress the people coming to the party. Or whether he just went “those ones will do” and be done with it. Even Neil had made a tiny effort but an effort nonetheless. I think the addition of a yellow waistcoat over his usual outfit made me laugh when I originally watched it. I can imagine he keeps it for special occasions.

Although Vyvan doesn’t have a costume change per say, it’s worth noting the forbidden blue drink that causes Vyvyan’s hair to fall out, which technically could be counted as a change in costume. I really want to know what that drink consisted of both contextually in the show and the actual physical drink that Ade had to down rather quickly. It looks like car de icer! From what’s been said in the past about Ade having a stomach of steel (looking at you Eddie Hitler which was confirmed by Ade that it was in fact actual lard he ate), that drink couldn’t have tasted that good. Also to add, I love that he is not even phased by this random woman who is in their living room calling him a ‘BEAST!’ and acts like what has just happened is normal. The 666 tattoo on his head is also a nice touch to the character. How and when did he get it done? We shall never know. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Mike when it came to dressing up for a party and no less than one of my favourite artists of all time, Adam Ant. I keep mentioning different interpretations but I can just imagine Mike looking up to Adam Ant. Adam Ant was, after all, a sex symbol of his the day. With his Prince Charming album released in 1981, it’s quite possible Mike saw that and went ‘Now there’s a man that can get the ladies’ and decided to copy him.

The scene with the four horsemen of the apocalypse to me was a good idea but something that could have been cut shorter, but worked for the gag with the sandwich. I did however like the effects of the background and that Death was just a skeleton dummy on the horse.

“Five minutes till the most important party of my life and then the house gets wrecked by a giant sandwich!”

It makes me wonder why they (mainly Rick - I think the others are just there because it’s their house as well) think this party is so important. I have several theories as to why they were throwing a party but here’s a few: 1) Rick probably went to invite a girl over, she saw it as an invitation for a party and not that he just wanted her over, so rumour spread around the campus that there was a party on and half of Scumbag turned up. 2) They genuinely made the effort to throw a party in order to A) get off with girlies and B) try to become popular and the guests mainly there because Mike invited them all, including the people from Rick’s class. Or 3) Rick just wanted an excuse to have Dr Morrison over and the invites got out of hand. The relationship that Rick has with Dr Morrison and indeed Mr Morrison with his students is a weird one. A lot of people will claim ‘it was a different time’ but it’s something about his chill vibes around his students that seems a little off to me.

“Look Rick, it’s only five minutes!”

“Tell that to Roger Bannister!”

Enter student party goers. Something tells me Rick isn’t used to throwing parties as when a couple of early students arrive, instead of being cool about it, he flies off the rails at them. The general annoyance of Rick is just so true to the character. Another favourite throw away prop gag is when Jennifer Saunders’ character actually says to the moving bannister that they were only five minutes early! Genius! If I could place myself somewhere in The Young Ones series, Jennifer Saunders’ character is exactly where I’d be. She’s clearly someone Rick knows as she’s got the blazer full of badges, but her outfit is the exact kind of outfit I would wear!

Vyvyan coming down the stairs and trying to impress the girls with his incorrect ‘press ups’ absolutely made me laugh so much when I first watched it. Also knowing from listening to Talking Bottom, I thought it was fascinating that it was said that the BBC originally wanted to cut it because it could be seen as ‘sexual’ but they went “bollocks!” because it’s literally just general stupidity in a boy trying to impress girls by doing a press up, like Vyvyan thinks he would impress them with.

“Hi Vyvyan, what are you doing?”

“Shut up, you girl!”

The sandwich that flew out of the sky and hit Dawn French doubling up as a sofa to the guests really adds the element of fantasy that The Young Ones so brilliantly has. Throughout the series, we see weird objects and scenes happening as if it’s a normal thing, like this exists in the realm of this madness. So using a sandwich as a sofa, totally makes sense as a concept.

Within five seconds of the record being played, we see the police coming in and smashing it up. This is a very tongue and cheek scene and as anarchic as Rick claims to be he smiles at them sweetly and even gives them a thumbs up! It really gives Rick the ‘all mouth, no trousers’ (ooer) personality.

The whole scene with Rick stealing Jennifer’s handbag and having a rifle through it is nothing but pure genius. Traditionally, or to my knowledge that I've always been told, there’s an unwritten rule about going in a woman’s handbag. This scene breaks that unwritten rule and throws it in the bin all because of one very silly, ignorant boy. Rick believing she had “brought him a present” when he had a tampon in his hand made me laugh so much when I first watched it which then made me cry with laughter when he realised what he had done. You can just feel the secondhand embarrassment radiating in the room, not just for Rick but the girl who he had stolen the handbag from and the other party goers.

Enter Mike The Cool Person. Mike’s joke “No, but I soon will be.” after someone says “Hi Mike!” is one of my favourite throw away gags in the entire 12 episodes of the show. It’s such a highly underrated joke! Neil’s entrance to the party couldn’t be any more Neil, It even looks like he brushed his hair! The incense was just the icing on the Neil cake.

The whole storyline of Cinderella coming round to the party for Mike was a weird one, but like I mentioned about the sandwich, it’s one of those things that makes you go “Oh, of course this is happening.” It would explain how Mike was dressed as Adam Ant. Her being turned into a pumpkin and then Mike, not realising it is Cinderella, carves into it really makes you go “OH NO!” It’s just so silly. I also love that Mike refers to her as “my girlfriend” even though she probably most definitely wasn’t and he was just saying it to show off.

Rip, Rig and Panic’s performance of You’re My Kinda Climate was a great song to get everyone hyped for the party. Seeing cut scenes of Neil, Vyvyan and Rick dance along to the music were a perfect representation as to how I could see those characters dance. Neil’s a bit more floaty hippie, Vyvyan is jumping up and down like a kid that’s had too much pop and Rick just awkwardly dancing in the corner. As much as the song is great, I almost become a bit more fixated on what’s happening in the background. You can see people bobbing along to the music but in certain scenes, you can see Rick, Vyvyan and Neil talking to one another looking like they actually, almost get on.

It’s amazing how quick that the other party guests get to the party straight after the pubs close. It’s almost as if they would much rather do anything other than go to the boys party. Also, by this point, it’s got to be around 11pm or slightly later because that’s when the average pub closes in the UK. The kind of guests that turn up, you can see the stereotypical people who have been invited, clearly Vyvyan’s mates turn up, Neil’s hippie friends(2), and all Ricks ‘friends’ congregate with the other people who were already there. It’s almost a wonder how many people just followed the crowd from the pub and aren’t actually students.

I like that when Rick talks to the anarchist who spray paints Rick’s face, that no one for the rest of the episode tells him that he has spray paint on his face and he fails to notice it’s even there. It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that no one bothered to tell him. When Rick walked back to the kitchen, one thing I noticed was that he flinched when Vyvyan’s friends walked past him. It almost makes you wonder what they have done to him in the past. Or how come he’s frightened of them?

Neil running off to get anywhere but out of the grasp of Tommy Balowski and answering the door to party crashers made me laugh. It made me think that Neil has definitely tried hiding a joint from the police before. And it’s apparent that he smokes not only in the TV show, but also the Bachelor Boys book and Neil’s Book of the Dead. He doesn’t say anything at the door but coughs and blows smoke out of his nose and somehow still scares off the party crashers. Genius!

The next scene where Neil takes a puff on Warlock’s bong, is one of my favourite scenes in the whole episode. An honourable mention about this scene is that we get to see an angle of the house that we had previously not seen before, which gives us a better understanding of the scale of the space to the house. Neil floating off properly made me laugh the first time I watched it because it was such a perfect physical representation gag of getting high, quite literally. It’s so strong, he goes to space and sees robots on the moon! It’s certainly up there with the more surreal piece from the show that I absolutely ADORE. I’ve not mentioned before, but with a lot of older films and TV (specifically 80s comedies) I absolutely can’t help but laugh at obvious dummies. I don’t know whether it’s the unnatural stiffness of the body, the obvious wig on a dummy or the that you just know something is slightly off but it just makes me howl with laughter. You just can’t beat it. So seeing Neil come back down to earth as a dummy and it switches to actually him, will never not make me laugh.

It’s worth mentioning that with the scene where Vyvyan brags to his friends that he had just been wrecking the bathroom, even though it’s his house, how different but at the same time similar his outfit is to theirs. Their outfits follow the similar vibe of studs, chains, belts and even studs in their heads but theirs are black making Vyvyan really stand out in the blue denim. Note the studs in the head, it makes it look like they are almost part of a gang and Vyvyan is either one of them or trying to be part of their gang. Vyvyan’s two chains attached on the back of his jacket match the back of David Lloyd’s jacket. OR, is HE the gang leader? Evidence of this is where he orders them all to get stuff so they could perform surgery on the guy they had just knocked out.This might be me pulling a theory out of thin air though!

There is so much chaos in a small amount of time just seconds after this scene. The party crashers from earlier falling off the roof, the chimney sweep going down, Father Christmas falling down the chimney and Vyvyan being catapulted into the ceiling. It’s scenes like this that remind me of how very stupid this show is.

(Neighbour banging on the wall) “Shut up you old witch!” (cuts to a scene with a witch putting her broom through the wall hitting one of the punks) UNDERRATED THROWAWAY GAG!

A seemingly high Neil happened to come across the punks at the wrong time. From listening to Podcasto Catflappo (The Filthy, Rich and Catflap podcast - if you haven’t listened to it, WHY NOT because it’s fantastic!), there was an interview with David Lloyd and he confirmed that “KILL THE HIPPIE!” was an ad libbed line! Even though it was an ad libbed line, it’s one of the most memorable lines in the entirety of the show. Well done David Lloyd! The episode ending so suddenly after the brawl with Neil thinking it was all a dream was such a silly but appropriate way to end it.

Here we get to see another angle of Neil’s bedroom that we had previously not seen. You can build an idea of what sort of a person is like by their bedroom without seeing the person. Of course we know this is Neil’s bedroom, but if you take him out of the picture, you can see his rubber plant, Wayne, all the mysterious bottles (I would actually like to know what is in them), his guitar and the one thing that would throw you off, is the poster of seemingly Che Guevara. You know, I don’t think he’s known for his hippie approach?! But as we see that Neil in bed is actually the dream and he’s actually having his head kicked in by the punks, It now almost makes sense he had the poster because it’s not the reality. Apart from the personalisation of the room, I love how the bare bones of the room looks like a typical room you would find in a bedroom in a student house, even now. Props to the set designers.

Overall, like many of the other episodes, I don’t think you can actually fault this particular episode at all. There are so many perfect elements to the episode that not only can be left to interpretations, but are just genius pieces of writing. I know I've picked this appart to no end but it was so hard narrowing it down! If I had to introduce anyone into the world of The Young Ones, this episode along with Bambi might be the ones I would show them. Each episode is so excellently crafted that you don’t even need an introduction into the characters. You’ll feel like you already know them.

The Young Ones is such an important and timeless piece of British comedy history that should never be forgotten. Having only really got into the show since January 2021, it’s been a whirlwind of a time. Who knew a TV show with only 12 episodes would totally turn my world upside down to a point of no return. From making online friends, to making the costumes, to introducing me to a world of alternative comedy, I've enjoyed every minute. To top this all off, I got to meet one of The Young Ones in person, Nigel Planer, and got to tell him how much this silly little show means to me, whilst standing in front of him dressed as his character! To see him get a tear in his eye over my kind words and get so happy to see something I'd made inspired by him, and beaming when he saw me again at the photoshoot area meant every morsel of the world to me. You just can’t top that. To know that someone saw Nigel Planer leave the venue of the con I went to with MY can of Neil’s lentils that I designed myself and let him keep in his hands, makes my heart melt (and not to get all girlie but a little tear comes to my eye too every time I think of it).

I’m so happy to be a part of celebrating the 40th anniversary of the show and here’s to many, many more years celebrating it.

You utter, utter, UTTER… legends.

[milkhoney531]

Just some personal musings, contains abuse, suicidal ideation, and transphobia mention

You know, when I first came out as trans/nonbinary, the name I chose started with M. Then G and then J. Now I'm back to M. Different name, same letter. For some reason, M sticks around longer than any other name I've gone by.

I've gone by tons of usernames too, but one split second decision cemented part of my username. I was signing up for freecycle for some reason and I was going to use my chosen name, I got three letters in and decided I didn't want questions so I chose to change the last letter and make a pale joke.

So boom, Milk became a part of my online identity, besides the 531 at the end. And while the word after it varies from place to place, the M stays.

I've changed a lot over the years, but some parts of me are the same. I still feel weird about my gender expression. I still hate being perceived as a girl. I can't stand pink or too many bright colors, mainly due to preference or sensory issues. I still don't correct family who calls me by the wrong name, but I want to work on that.

I still love to write, paint, draw, or do most creative mediums. However I don't write songs anymore, despite still wanting to learn music. I also don't hate fashion, I've designed clothes and bags and such, even making my own coat.

I'm no longer terrified of ruining things and shutting down my ideas due to that fear. I have altered clothes, made new clothes, put both fabric and acrylic paint where they definitely shouldn't go, frankensteined jackets and cosplays. I have let myself make the things I bought my own. Were there some projects I ended up regretting? Yes but it felt amazing to actually do them while I did!

It's been a rocky road, but I like where I'm at right now. I'd like some changes, yeah, but the changes I want, I'll get. I just need to keep going and preparing. I don't know for sure where I'm heading, but I have a plan for what I want in my life that can be achieved no matter what happens.

I still don't really know who or what I am, but I'm learning and I'm growing into a person I think I like being. Sure, there have been some bumps in the road, definitely didn't think I'd discover a chronic pain condition making me use a cane, or think I'd like flowers, the ocean, or space nearly as much as I do now, but it's a nice surprise.

I'm surprised and glad I'm here to learn more about myself. I never thought I'd live so long. Frankly, I was amazed I made it to high school. Growing up, home was a violent place. My mom was with a violent, obsessive, jealous drunk for most of my life. He almost killed me, my mom, and my brother with a gun before I was 6 years old. I learned the smell of alcohol and how to find empty beer bottles and places to hide before I learned how to write my name. I learned how to find good hiding spots and to make sure my siblings were hidden before I learned to tie my own shoes.

I grew up thinking I was going to be killed. When we finally were free of danger, and even before then, I often acted out at school due to meltdowns because of my autism. Once we were safe, I was no longer the trusted babysitter who could be woken up in the middle of the night before even attending kindergarten or the kid who could make sure their siblings were safe, instead I was a violent problem child. No longer was I praised for ridding of my bullies, my brother's, or my friends, but condemned because I used violent means to do so.

So I started to think of myself as a monster. As someone so unworthy of any human interaction that I legitimately thought I should be imprisoned and bound in a building with no possible exits or entrances far from civilization to just starve to death. I thought my only options in life were to be killed, kill myself, or imprisoned.

So I stopped doing anything. I stopped defending myself from bullies. I stopped caring what happened to me. I made it my goal to become invisible, to fly under the radar. And it worked. Everyone was happier that I had shut down. That I stopped being a problem.

Then I got a job. I started buying things for my family. Started treating them to special dinners, movies, etc. I started giving away what I had. I stopped eating except when with family. I was going to end it all.

But somehow I made it to high school. I remember how shocked I was. How I never thought I'd get that far. I had passed my self given expiration date somehow. And as I walked up to the school, I remember thinking that if I can make it this far, then if I were to go out, it wouldn't be by my own hand.

And yet in my sophomore year, I almost killed myself and to this day I still don't know why. I had just gotten home from a club dance with a bunch of free goodies for my family. I was happy as could be. My parents left to chaperone a dance. And I was alone, my siblings asleep. I didnt think. I found myself in some sort of daze as I walked into the kitchen and I was going to grab a bottle of pills. I was going to eat them all.

But I snapped out of it. I went online and I googled a suicide online chat help line. I never spoke to anyone, but waiting gave me time to come back to my senses. I don't know what snapped me out of it. But I was lucky I snapped out of it.

Sure, life hasn't been amazing, but I think I would have regretted not living it. I've gotten to learn so much, to do so much, to meet so many people, to help people. I wouldn't have gotten to do any of it if I had gone through with it, with my plan that night. As hard as it's been, I've been slowly learning to live. To be a person. As scary as it's been at times, to step out of my bubble, to be myself without fear, it's been getting easier the more I do it.

It started with me deciding to live. Then making a plan for my future. To adding color to my closet. To discovering who I am. To coming out. To defying my mom and staying out. To altering my clothes. To advocating for myself. To being who I am today.

[cosettepontmercys]

Hi Cossette!! I'm so glad that you also enjoy Laufey's Everything I Know About Love :D Listening to the LP is a wholesome and cozy experience (I was listening to the deluxe version earlier today) 💖 What are your favourite tracks from the album?

Ahh yes!! I discovered Holly Humberstone a little while ago and really liked The Walls Are Way Too Thin and the singles that she released last year (I particularly enjoy Friendly Fire and Scarlett)! I've just listened to her other EP this weekend via the compilation record and love it :D Fingers crossed that we'll get to hear her debut album later this year!!

I've also listened to a couple artists that you've mentioned (The Japanese House, Isabel Pless, and Cate Canning) and enjoy their music!! The Japenese House's recent singles (for her upcoming album) are quite different to her previous work but I found her new sonic influence refreshing 💖

I still need to listen to Cate Canning's older songs, but her latest releases are very promising and I'm looking forward to what she comes up with in the future! I first heard about Cate Canning from Maisie Peters' Cate's Brother and I definitely can tell that they artistically influence each other in their songwriting & storytelling!!

I feel you with the upcoming releases! I've been that I'm currently eagerly waiting for:

First Two Pages of Frankenstein by The National

My Soft Machine by Arlo Parks

I'm also looking forward to upcoming releases from Brynn Cartelli! I'm pleasantly surprised by Brynn Cartelli's discography - her music is quite narrative focused & memorable (I discovered her from a friend who's into Maisie Peters) so she's certainly worth checking out :D

P.S. omg yes!! Maisie Peters absolutely excels at storytelling and lyrics: in some sense this also reminds of Taylor Swift's songwriting - vivid narratives and memorable lyrics 💖 I hope that we'll get a Maisie Peters guest appearance for the UK dates for The Eras Tour!

did you see laufey's been working on her second album? i'm SO excited! i was hoping to snag her valentine RSD on record store day, but my store sold out before they even got remotely close to me! i feel like laufey's music was just made for vinyl. i really love above the chinese restaurant, dear soulmate, and of course, her rendition of i've never been in love before! according to my airbuds widget, i listened to scarlett eight times last week (which feels low for me)! it's definitely one of my favorites of hers — i also really love sleep tight, the walls are way too thin, and deep end. i've been listening to rock city lately too, which was part of the EarthPercent x Earth Day ’23 Compilation Album, and i've been really liking it too! i forgot that the national's new album is out so soon! time is not real! i'm really excited for the alcott, obviously, as well as this isn't helping. i need to listen to more of their stuff — maybe i'll listen to it while i work tomorrow (i'm in too many meetings today to properly listen to a new album)! speaking of things to listen to, i listened to some of brynn cartelli's stuff this morning, and enjoyed convertible in the rain & secondhand smoke! i think it's so lovely how you can tell which artists were influenced by others, and i think maisie & cate just have such a sweet friendship. i can't wait to see what cate puts out next! and yes — that would be so lovely!!! part of me was hoping that sabrina carpenter would open for taylor, but it seems less likely now given that she's doing her own europe tour this summer, so i'm keeping my fingers crossed for holly or maisie — or maybe bea will come back? i think that'd be fun too! i hope you've been having a good week so far!! so sorry for the delayed reply 🤍

[agentnico]

Werewolf by Night (2022) Review

Anyone else agree the Marvel Studios logo is super indulgent? Their title card before each film/tv show is over 30 seconds long as is, and additionally in Werewolf by Night the Marvel Studios logo is shown three times - first comes “Marvel Studios Special Presentation”, then followed by the usual half-a-minute title logo and then straight away ‘Marvel Studios Presents’. Like yes, we get it, you guys are a big deal. So much so that you have managed to get away with making a load of content after Avengers: Endgame and most of it being a pile of sh**, yet still make the dollar. Yep, I said it. Get your act together Feige. When’s that Deadpool/Wolverine crossover scheduled for? 

Plot: On a dark and sombre night, a secret cabal of monster hunters emerge from the shadows and gather at the Bloodstone Temple following the death of their leader; the attendees are thrust into a mysterious and deadly competition for a powerful relic.

So following my little rant at the beginning of this review about how bad Phase 4 of the MCU has been, Werewolf by Night is actually quite good. Yep, talk about smooth transitions. My point is though what makes this Disney+ offering stand out is that it shows that the folks at Marvel are at least trying to attempt something different here. A call-back to the 30s/40s era of Universal monster movies, with the black-and-white grainy filter and over-the-top characters and featuring, well, monsters. 

Interestingly enough this also happens to be the directorial debut of Michael Giacchino. For those wondering why that name may sound familiar, this cool geezer *never will I ever use the word ‘geezer’ again, that felt weird and peculiar territory which I will never tread towards ever again, I do apologise*, any way, so this cool Giacchino dude is the man that’s been composing all the cool blockbuster movies that Hans Zimmer hasn’t for the past few years. Like this fella’s done it all - think Star Trek, think Planet of the Apes, think Star Wars, think Pixar, Jurassic World, Batman, fricking Cars 2! What hasn’t this guy composed!? Well, the Lord of the Rings fan within me acknowledges he never did any Middle Earth music, but let’s be honest, who would dare compete with Howard Shore! Ah just remember when Aragorn, Frodo and the fellowship walk through the misty mountains towards Caradhras as Shore plunges his orchestra to the mighty depths of Khazad-Dum and you can feel the instruments literally burning the atmosphere with its mastery!!! Sorry, I’ve recently been thinking of rewatching the Lord of the Rings trilogy, so I’m a bit in the zone. 

Anyway, that Giacchino guy, what did he do? Well, he directed Werewolf by Night and you can tell a composer directed this project, as the use of sound and music to build up tension and build to the bigger moments in the scenes here could have only been accomplished by a man with a very acute sense of hearing. And overall Giacchino seems to be a fan of those aforementioned monster movies. The use of retro style smoke and mirrors, cigarette burns and the use of practical effects, especially for the main werewolf that is evidently inspired by The Wolf Man, however I couldn’t unsee Nicholas Hoult’s Beast from the X-Men movies. It all does look really cool, and very unique, and though it never hits the cheesy level high’s of those original monster movies such as Dracula and Frankenstein, it’s a very unique direction for a Marvel production. I have also seen many other reviews mention how this is a gorier MCU outing, and I can see where they are coming from, but due to the use of black and white they are able to get away with it, as you don’t see any blood colours. As such its pretty harmless in that regard.

I enjoyed Werewolf by Night. Gael Garcia Bernal brings his usual likeable relatable vulnerability to the lead role, and Michael Giacchino exhibits qualities of a filmmaker who actually cares to bring something different to the table, yet not afraid to take inspiration from previous great works. Heck, where other Marvel projects would try to go bigger, Giacchino opts to go smaller. When the transformation of the werewolf occurs, he does so off-screen, and the camera instead slowly zooms closer and closer on the face of the terrified Elsa (played by Laura Donnelly) as we see only the shadowy silhouette of the man turning into a monster. It’s a neat trick that really heightens the tension and anticipation… and when we finally do see the werewolf, we then can enjoy a very satisfying rampage. But perhaps the biggest treat is Harriet Sansom Harris as Verusa, Ulysses’ widow and the night’s master of ceremonies, delivering an over-the-top performance that gives the whole affair huge theater-kid energy. Then again, there’s also a character named Ted in this thing, and he’s an example of comedy in Marvel done right. But no spoilers, if you’re wondering about who Ted is, you’re just going to have to go and watch Werewolf by Night.

Overall score: 7/10

[terror-in-the-aisles-2021]

House of Dracula 1945 a year after house of Frankenstein was the last of the universal monster ensemble’s, well until they were used as comic props in Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein 1948 . In this story Larry Talbot is finally cured of his werewolf curse by a good Dr played by Onslow Stevens who earlier trying to help Dracula of his curse. Gets sabotaged by The count ( John Carridine) as he has his blood contaminate the good Dr , making him raving killer . And of course there’s the Frankenstein monster ( Glenn Strange ) found on a cavern below the Drs home, along with the skeleton of Dr Neumann from the last movie House of Frankenstein. The Wolfman is only briefly shown. The hunchback mentioned in the poster is the Doctor’s nurse played by beautiful actress Jane Adams. All this in a 67 minute movie . All on a low budget and recycled music from the Wolfman and Son of Frankenstein. Lon Chaney Jr sports a mustache for the first time as Larry Talbot. Since he did some earlier inner Sanctum movies at universal like pillow of death, weird Woman,calling Dr Death , and a few other titles which ran around a little more than an hour , I suspect these were second features. Anyway house of Dracula is an enjoyable movie. And it’s nice that Larry Talbot finally gets the cure he was waiting for. The way he was cured was using mold spores. Yes I know that doesn’t make sense but it’s more of a holistic way the DR came up with other than surgery . But then in Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein he is the Wolfman again . But that is not a sequel to house of Dracula but a parady. And also with Bela Lugosi playing Dracula for the second time on film. So which is better house of Dracula or House of Frankenstein?? The jury is put on that one . But I’ll say Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein is one of my favorites since childhood . I’ll never get tired of that one. Or any of the universal horror movies from 1925 to the 1950 s .