#all lights in the street are out so ok it's a power cut then

[luminous-faerie]

dealing with a power cut on your own is the worst actually

[nexysworld]

Summary: New to town, stuck late and caught in the rain to boot; your night couldn't possibly get any worse. At least that's what you thought until on your way home you're pulled over by a certain blonde haired blue eyed cop. Pairing: RE2R CorruptCop!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Dubcon, Abuse of Power, Semi-public sex, Finger Sucking, Sex Toy, Temperature Play, Unprotected Sex, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, Toxic Dynamics, no use of y/n

Title from the Deftones Song - Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)

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The rain was pouring down, pattering against the cement of the parking lot as wind blew the smell of dew and crisp air across your face. It was late, later than you had wanted to stay at work, but things kept piling up and before you knew it, the sun had come down and your coworkers had all left you alone.

Yellow light flickered off of the closest street lamp, the only other source of illumination was your phone’s screen lit up. You tapped against the glass in frustration, a cold shiver running down your spine. “Come on, come on!” The signal symbol in the top corner of the screen kept flashing, leaving you unable to make any call or access the internet. All you had wanted to do was pull up maps again, being new to town you hadn’t familiarized yourself with the roads – the weather was so bad that you didn’t want to test it either.

The windbreaker you had on was doing little to help the chill in your bones now that the rain had begun blowing sideways, soaking you even under the awning that covered the entrance. Now soaked, freezing, and not wanting to wait any longer, you made the decision to book it to your car. Relishing in the heat you relaxed back against the fabric of the seat, slipping the soaked jacket off along with your damp shirt. Luckily the tanktop beneath was mostly spared of the icy rain water.

Giving it one more shot, you looked at your phone, still no signal. A sigh escaped you as the wipers turned on helping to remove the frosty fog from the windshield, tossing the useless device on the passenger seat.

When the windows were finally defrosted enough for you to mostly be able to see ahead of the car, you backed out of the spot and took off down the road. “Ok, I got this. I make a right here by the giant oak tree.”

The dark road ahead of you felt familiar to the one you took home during the day, but without much peripheral vision it was hard to tell. Soon the open road became dark with nothing but your headlights as the last streetlamp passed you by, an uneasiness taking over you. “This isn’t right.” Walls of trees surrounded you on both sides of the road, only visible when passing cars illuminated them for you. Not sure what to do, and nervous as hell, you kept trekking forward, hoping to at least find a major highway or something that looked familiar.

It wasn’t long until red and blue lit up the inside of your car from behind. “A cop? Shit.” With the back window frosted over you hadn’t seen him pull onto the road, and with the darkness surrounding you, it was difficult to tell where you could even pull over safely. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. The anxiety that coursed through your veins was already bad enough as it was, but once you hadn’t pulled over quick enough, the sound of the sirens blaring through your eardrums caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. Immediately, you slammed the breaks, causing the car to squeal before coming to a complete stop.

Not more than a few moments go by before you hear the sound of boots thudding against the ground getting closer. Taking the initiative, you roll down the window, letting the cutting winter air slap you in the face once again while you gripped your ID tightly, waiting for the officer.

Blinding light encompassed your vision, causing your hand to go up instinctively to shield your eyes as they adjusted.

“Good evening, Miss.” His voice sounded young, and you could hear the smacking of gum being chewed loudly between his words.

“Good evening officer… Kennedy” You gave a weak smile, eyes reading his name tag before finally settling on his face. He was young. Piercing blue eyes almost glowed with the illumination of the metal flashlight in his hand. Plush lips upturned into a friendly smile, coupled with soft features. Soft blonde hair framed his face accentuating his cheek bones and dimpled chin. He wasn’t just young, he was cute – handsome. If this were a different time and place you would’ve actually considered hitting on the guy.

“Wanna tell me why you didn’t pull over when you first saw the lights?”

“I wasn’t sure where a safe spot to pull over was. I hoped maybe a little up the way would be a place with more light.”

“Uh huh…” He said, eyeing you over, the tone in his voice clearly indicating suspicion. “Do you know why I pulled you over this evening, ma’am?”

“Uhh no honestly, I can’t say I do.” An awkward smile tugged at your features, nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach. The only relief coming from the hope that this fresh faced, doe-eyed cop would go easy on you. He seemed friendly, and if his age was any indicator he likely hadn’t been a cop long, perhaps that could score you some bonus points.

A thick blonde brow raised as he spoke. “You were going pretty fast. Speed limit in most parts of Arklay County is 35 if you’re not in the city. I had you going nearly 60.”

“Arklay? Oh shit –” The realization you had gone in the complete opposite direction from where you were supposed to have been headed struck you like a tonne of bricks. “I’m so sorry officer, I’m not from around here.”

“Well normally I’d understand that, but there’s signage posted all down this strip of road.”

“Oh. Well, you know it’s late and rainy with my windows fogged up it’s been a little hard to see, especially where there’s no street lights.”

He leaned back from where he hunched over your window, looking at the car. “Your entire rearview is frosted along with more that ⅓ of the viewing radius on your windshield. It’s not safe to drive like that, especially speeding in the dark.”

Your eyebrow twitched with annoyance, the sound of the gum in his mouth beginning to grate on your nerves as well. The last thing you wanted was a lecture – tired, cold, and away from home you wanted this encounter to be over. The hope of him going easy on you seemed to dwindle with each word out of his mouth.

“I know, my car's kind of a junker. I’ve been meaning to get the back wiper fixed. I just haven’t been able to yet. I’ll do it soon I swear.” He didn’t say anything, taking in your words. You took the opportunity to continue. “Look, is there any way you can let me off with a warning? I’ve been having a really bad night. I just started a new job in the county over. I got stuck late in the rain at said job, and now I’m lost trying to get back home.” Batting your eyelashes you gave him the best kicked puppy look you could muster hoping to inspire some sympathy from your tale.

His features steeled into a neutrally unamused expression. “License and registration.” He said flatly.

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Come on, I’m begging you, sir.”

Officer Kennedy didn’t respond, instead he moved to clip the flashlight to a loop on his shoulder to keep it in place as he pulled his notebook out, penciling down on the yellowed pages before finally speaking again. “Speeding. Not adhering to street postings. Reckless driving in an unsafe vehicle, and refusal to provide documentation to an officer of the law.”“Huh?” You were gobsmacked by his words. “What are you –”

“Miss, I'm going to need you to step out of the car.”

“Wait, wait no I have my license right here. I wasn’t refusing, I was–”

“Please don’t make me ask again. Step out of the vehicle, hands on your head.”

The nerve of this guy! Unbuckling your seatbelt you exited the car as quickly as possible, putting your hands atop your head like you were told.

“Are there any drugs or weapons in the car or on your person I should be made aware of?”

“No, of course not! Please, this is all a misunderstanding.” His gloved hand grasped at you, turning you to face your car again. With both hands he patted you down gently, the cold air causing goosebumps to form on your skin now. If the night hadn’t already been going bad as it was, this was the worst.

No reply again, just the same sound of that damned gum gnashing between his teeth and the smell of his spicy cologne wafting into your nose. He brought his hand up to your right arm, gently pulling it down behind your back, before mimicking the other.

The jingle of metal on metal made your heart stop. “Y-you’re not arresting me are you? You can’t do that, you haven’t even read me my rights.” It took everything you had to will any oncoming tears away.

He replied by clasping the metal around your wrists before clamping them shut. The weight of the situation made you feel like you were shackled to the earth where you stood. Hands trembling behind you, as his hot breath ghosted over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “I haven’t read you the rights because I’m not arresting you. Just making sure you and I are both safe while I check things out.

“Check what things out?”

“You know, you ask a lot of questions. Maybe if you listened more you wouldn’t be where you’re standing right now.” His hands slid down your sides again, this time stopping on your butt cheeks, patting them down lightly before feeling the warm leather splayed against your inner thigh lingering a tad longer than what was appropriate. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tensed up, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“What’s the matter?” Despite not seeing his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“You aren’t hiding something, are you?”

“No! What the hell?”

“You sure? Then why are you so tense, if you have nothing to hide?” He dragged his hands up your side again, applying more pressure before sneaking his hands around your torso, palms against your chest giving a little squeeze. You jolted against the car, gasping.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You shouted pushing yourself back against him, your voice while intended to sound angry came out a wavering whine.

“What was that?”

“I said, get off of me you pig!”

“Mouthy, mouthy. You really don’t want me looking here, do you?” To emphasize his point, he squeezed your chest again, rubbing your pebbling nipples through your thin bra with his thumbs.

“Fucking creep!” You spat struggling against him.

“That’s not very nice.” He whispers into your ear. “Know what I think? I think you are hiding something and you don’t want me to find out.” He pulled you back against him, far enough from the car that he could grab your tanktop from the center, yanking it down, roughly stretching the fabric of the spaghetti straps before they finally snapped against your shoulders, stinging as the shirt was yanked to your stomach.

His fingers made their way to the front clasp of your bra, deftly jerking the hook to come undone, breasts bouncing out as your nipples pebbled in the cold air almost painfully. A whine echoed from your mouth as he spun you around, roughly pushing your back into the frigid metal of your car.

“Hmmm. Nothing here.” He said, sky blue orbs moving from your face to observe your cold-perked breasts. He watched you shiver with that sickeningly sweet smile plastered to his boyish face. “Poor thing, it’s pretty cold out isn’t it? Those little buds look so hard they could cut glass.”

“Fuck you!”

“You know what they say, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Why don’t you try behaving for a minute and see where it gets you.” As if displaying his point, he brings his large hands back to your breasts, kneading them in his palms a few times before soothing his thumbs over your nipples again. The feeling makes you tingle, the warmth more pleasurable than you’d ever want to admit. “See, that’s better isn’t it? Just be compliant for me and this will all be over faster.”

Anger swirled in the pit of your stomach, wanting nothing more than to knock that smile off his stupid-pretty face. You couldn’t believe only 10 minutes prior you had actually thought he was handsome, a nice cop who’d understand your plight and let you go.

Hyper aware of how stuck you were, your brows knitted together in frustration, a few tears finally spilled out of your eyes burning hot against your cheek. He swiped them away, a gesture that would have been sweet if it was coming from anyone besides this power-abusing creep. “No need for tears. We’re just doing a standard inspection. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to be afraid of, right sweetheart?”

The pet name made you sick, and you couldn’t contain the venom on the tip of your tongue.”Fuck you asshole!” You shouted jerking away from him again.

His smile faded almost instantly to an unamused look. “Resisting an Officer too? You really are up to no good tonight.” He said, grabbing you roughly by the arm, pulling you away from your own vehicle and tugging you towards his cruiser. He’d switched the flashlight off leaving you mostly in the dark as he trudged you along. Fear made you attempt to dig your heels, but his grip was like a vice and as he yanked, you were forced to tumble forwards with him until he shoved you face first into the back seat, your bottom half hanging out off the black faux-leather.

The inside of the car was toasty warming you up almost instantly, but your legs shivered desperately against the freezing air swirling outside. “Stay still.” He commanded, as you felt two fingers make their way into the waistband of your pants before he unceremoniously yanked them down to your ankles.

“What are you –”

“Finishing my inspection.” He replied, brushing his hands up your thighs, this time applying more pressure directly to your skin, making his way closer and closer to your panties. A firm slap was landed on your ass hurting so much it made you yelp. “That was for that bratty attitude.” Soothing the sore spot with gentle rubs from one hand, he brought the other between your legs gently rubbing against your clothed slit, stopping to nudge at your clit through the fabric.

Your eyes went wide as saucers, mouth agape. You hated that your body reacted to the feeling, a moan making it’s way out of your mouth, feeling the arousal building up at your center.

“Don’t feel anything yet, but you can never be too sure.” He pulled his hand away, your body instinctively bucking back a little without any input from your brain. Your underwear received the same treatment as your pants, but not before he snapped the elastic of your waistband, making you whimper at the sting.

You felt the starched fabric of his uniform pants brush harshly against your inner thigh before he used it to pull your legs as far apart as they would go while still restricted at the ankles by your clothing. Something cold and smooth was dragged up your leg, making you squirm in place uncomfortably. It was different to the texture of his gloves, you couldn’t tell if it was plastic or metal. The object made it’s way to your slicked up folds, running through them gently.

“Gahh!” You squealed trying to wiggle forward away from the icy feeling.You couldn’t go any farther, stopped by the grating that separated the seat you were in from the other side.

“None of that.” He said, moving his arm forward, dragging whatever it was against you again. The sheer temperature was uncomfortable, but when he circled it against your clit, the torturous mix of discomfort and pleasure made you shudder involuntarily. More slick leaked out onto the seats.

Coating its base into your wetness, he prodded your hole gently. Craning your neck to the point of pain, you looked behind you as best you could to see what was happening, the night stick gripped firmly in his hand. Your brain screamed at you to be scared, while your body betrayed you, clamping down over the cool tip of the thin object. “S’too cold!” You pleaded, voice a pathetic whine. He ignored you at first, moving it inside of you slowly, shallowly. It was enough to have your pussy aching, but not enough to hit that one spot that would have you seeing stars. It was a teasing sensation you’d never experienced before.

“Too cold? Can’t be that bad, not with the mess you’re making all over my backseat.” He twisted the baton this time sinking it in farther enough to bump against that special bundle of nerves making you keen. “You really have no sense of self preservation, do you baby? Needy pussy will slop all over anything it’s given, won’t it? At least I know you’re not hiding anything now.”

You hadn’t the capacity to refute him or spout an insult back his way, though you wanted to, badly .

He set the night stick down between your legs, not pulling it out of you. You heard the sound of rustling fabric until some warm teased against the skin of your leg. The night stick was lifted gently again, back to its painfully slow rhythm of thrusting just outside the reach of where you wanted it. Quickly you realized he’d removed his gloves, his hands so warm from being inside them his fingers nearly burned against your numbed skin. He used the middle and pointer finger of his left hand to rub agonizingly slow circles around your clit, as he worked the baton into your hole again.

Both sensations felt good, but just so… not enough . Trapped in the backseat of his car against your will, arms stinging from being stuck behind you, face pressed against the seat knowing the pattern would be smooshed into your skin by the time you were ever allowed to move again. You hated how the handsome asshole of a cop was working you up so much with his vile mocking and teasing movements. But most of all, you hated how much you wanted more . More pressure. More heat. More speed. Just more of whatever you could get.

You weren’t sure how far he was going to go with this, but not wanting to give in, you attempted to focus on everything that wasn’t him. The smell of the pine air freshener blowing throughout the car, the sound of that stupid fucking gum still going between his teeth – you even tried to close your eyes and imagine you were somewhere else. None of it worked as you were left trying to grind back against him, desperate to alleviate the tension between your thighs and desperate to get out of there. Soft whimpers echoing throughout the confines of the vehicle.

“Poor thing, you just look so miserable. You want something don’t you?” He cooed the question out, picking up the pace of the fingers on your clit, finally using them to apply pressure as he rubbed it directly. Your whole body strained against the confines you were in, tensing with pleasure, mouth opening into an ‘o’ shape. Being teased for so long, you were just on the cusp of an orgasm as he finally gave you some sweet satisfaction – before you could feel that sensation of relief he pulled his hands away stopping entirely.

“Wha-?” The disappointment in your voice despite the lack of an entire sentence was obvious.

“Ask me nicely, maybe I’ll give you a reward for being good. After all, you passed my inspection with flying colors.” He resumed what he was doing again, back to the terribly slow movements that never gave you enough satisfaction to tip you over the edge.

You refused to give in, to beg, to admit out loud that you wanted anything from him. Doing your best, you tried scoffing, voice shakily creaking from your throat. “I-I don’t want anything from you. Except to let me go!” The malice and bite you wished coated your words wasn’t there.

He laughed in response, flicking your clit lightly. “Liar. That stubborn little mouth of yours might not want to admit it, but your pretty little pussy is giving everything away.” Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to your shoulder trailing the kisses up your neck before flicking his tongue against the shell of your ear. He managed to extract another pathetic whine as he blew on the spot he licked, sending a shiver right down your spine. While he’d pulled the night stick out to use that arm to support himself over you, his remaining hand was still tucked between your legs, sloppily playing with you. Against your thigh, through his pants you could feel his hardness pressing into you. “Come on baby, you don’t need to keep up the act anymore. We both know this was your goal from the start, wasn’t it?” He sucked a bruise into the skin of your neck before placing another kiss between your shoulder blades, the way he was pressed onto you forced your arms to tense in a way that hurt. “I saw it all over your face the moment your window rolled down. Batting those pretty lashes at me, probably thought you could flirt your way out of trouble.”

“N-not true…” You squeaked out.

He sat up, pulling his hand away from you. Metal on metal and the sound of the zipper behind you told you he was freeing his erection from its confines. He let out a relieved hiss before he was back over you this time you felt his soft lips against your leg, kissing the back of your knee before trailing his tongue up your leg, the cool air drying the strip of saliva as he went before placing a kiss to your buttcheek where his hand had left a raised red mark. “No? Then why are you sobbing between the legs for me?”

He moved forward nestling the head of his weeping cock against your slit, rubbing it against your clit gently before swiping it up to your hole. He didn’t enter though, merely rubbing it around before dragging it back down – your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation of the pleasure that wouldn’t come. “Mmm, so hot and wet.” He moaned, stroking himself as he rubbed the swollen tip against you.

A noise caught in your throat as he did it again, teasing your hole again. Frustrated tears reformed in your eyes, body hot, bothered, and screaming at you for relief. The last shell of pride you had cracked at the tantalizing idea of his thick cock stretching you open.

“P-please…” You finally choked out, quietly.

“What’s that?”

“P-please….” You repeated again, louder this time.

“Still too quiet –”

“PLEASE!” You nearly shouted this time.

“Hmm, please what? Gotta use your words, I’m not a mind reader.”

His teasing now had you more frustrated than the initial traffic stop, you were ready to sob if you had to go one more second without relief. “Please, please fuck me. Want you inside me, please.” You begged bucking your lower half up against him, hoping it would entice him to give in.

Expecting more teasing on his end you were pleasantly surprised when you felt him slip inside of you, not bothering to go slowly, slamming himself from tip to balls into your tight heat. “O-Oh.” You moaned as he pulled out, slamming back inside. Your eyes nearly rolled back as he set a fast rhythm, pounding against your sweet spot over and over again, finally giving your cunt something to clench around properly.“Oh god…fuck…” You spewed more incoherent words as you drooled against the seat. “So…fucking good.” Pleasure washed over your brain, stopping any coherent thoughts from processing.

“Look at you, dumb on my cock already and I’ve barely started fucking you. You, that desperate?” He reached over, swiping some drool from your cheek, flicking it away with his thumb. “Messy little slut, can’t help but leak from both ends, huh?”

“N-nuh uh.” You tried to protest, tongue almost falling out of your mouth as he angled his hips just right. Giving up on any further attempts of saving your ego, you attempted to speak again, wanting to feel something against your lips. Another incoherent noise came out instead.

He leaned in, slowing his hip movements. “What was that?”

“K-kiss.” You managed to get the word out. “Please.”

“Awww, not romantic enough for you sweetheart? Need some kisses too?”

You nodded, bottom lip quivering. He turned, spitting the gum outside the car before leaning forward again to connect your lips. It was rough at first, him biting your bottom lip before entangling your tongues together. You whimpered into his mouth, tasting the remnants of mint on him. He pulled away a trail of saliva connecting you before he placed a few sweeter pecks against your lips.

“Are your arms sore?” He asked running a hand over one of them as he sat back up.

“Mhm.”

“Can I trust you to be good if I take the cuffs off?”

“P-promise.”

There was stillness for a moment as there was the jangling of keys behind you. Soon your wrists were freed from the cuffs that hit the car floor, clanging together gently. You let out a relieved groan, letting one arm flop to your side as the other dangled onto the floor, shoulders stiff and sore.

The blonde kneaded his hands against your shoulder a few times to relieve the visible tension. He let you flop against the seat as he resumed his rhythm of fucking into your tight heat, leaving you babbling and whining loudly, enjoying the sensation of being split open on him.

“Perfect little pussy, just sucks me right in.” He pulled you back this time, so your ass was at a higher angle making it easier for him to slip in and out of your wet heat.

Close. You were so close to finally being tipped over the edge. White hot pleasure pricked at your vision, core aching deliciously. Almost to your peak when his voice tore through that bringing you back into the moment. “Hear that? Sounds like a car coming. Better quiet down baby, or they might come investigate. Wouldn’t wanna let them see what a little whore you are.” Despite his words he didn’t slow his pace, in fact he landed another slap against your unmarked ass cheek. “Or, maybe that’s exactly what you want, since you’re still crying like a desperate little bitch in heat. Want them to come over here and see you get fucked? Tell them what a bad girl you are, getting pulled over and getting fucked in the back of a cop car?”

“N-no….” You looked at him eyes wide. “P-please… don’t want – please.” With him pistoning into you, you couldn’t stop the noises that flew out. “P-please…oh god…” Time was running out as the headlights of the oncoming vehicle began to light up.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll help you out.” He leaned forward pressing two fingers into your mouth, greedily you pulled them in lapping over them with your tongue before sucking on them like a lifeline.

“Good girl.” He praised quietly into your ear. “Good fucking girl.” His own quiet grunts were becoming labored, his hip movements becoming sloppy, indicating his release was close. You turned your body so you were laying on your side more, grasping at his wrist holding his hand in place, nearly gagging on the digits.

The yellow hued light from the stream of passing cars lit up the inside of the cruiser giving you a view of the man’s face once again. His own eyes heavy with pleasure, black pupils dilated as he slowed his pace once last time to watch you suckle on his fingers as the last of the cars passed by, darkness encompassing the vehicle again before your eyes readjusted to the dimly lit roof light.

He pulled his fingers free, and brought the saliva coated hand down to rub against your clit as he picked up the pace fucking you again. He didn’t waste time taunting you, nor did he slow down, letting you fully bask in the hot waves of pleasure radiating from your sensitive pearl of nerves.

“G-god…oh god…” Your eyes rolled back as the coil of tension snapped, toes curling as your pussy clamped his cock like a vice. He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm before his hand gripped your hip with a bruising tightness, eye closing at his cock twitched, pulsing hot ropes of cum inside of you. He slowed down, thrusting just enough to ride out his own orgasm enjoying every twitch of your silky walls as he filled you up. Afterwards he braced his hand against the roof of the car to catch his breath and come down from the high of it all.

Once softened, he slowly pulled his cock out, wiping it along your thigh as he did so before tucking it back into his pants and fully standing up outside the car, stretching. “You alright?” He asked when he finally poked his head back in. He didn’t wait for your answer before tugging you towards him again, sliding your body along the seat. Pressing a kiss to the back of your still trembling legs, he hoisted your bottoms and panties back up, any leaking seed being caught by the fabric. “There we go.”

Too exhausted to move or think, you laid there like sentient jello as he readjusted you, slipping into the back seat himself so he could pull you onto his lap. Flopping against his chest, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, as he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back with one hand.

He let you rest for a while against him in that hazy-twilight state recovering from both the mental and physicality of the ordeal. The sound of the wind whistling outside coupled with the even badump badump of his heartbeat relaxed you. The radio on his chest buzzed, a crackly voice on the other end reading out some police codes you didn’t understand. “10-4, I’ll head back to the station.” He replied. “Hear that? Looks like this stop has come to an end.”

You rubbed at your eyes, sitting up. Honestly you had no words to reply, what could you even say after all of this. The cop reached up, tucking some hair behind your ear. “You said you were lost on the way home?”

“Yeah.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Altoona.”

He nodded. “Go sit in your car for me, I’ll be over in a few.”

Not arguing, you slipped off his lap and out into the dark cold stumbling your way back over to your car, ready for the night to just be over with finally.

A few minutes went by and sure enough Officer Kennedy reappeared at your window, a piece of paper in hand. “Directions.” He said handing it to you. Before you could reply, another paper was thrust into your hands, a ticket at the top. “Have a good night, Miss.” He said, popping another piece of gum into his mouth as he disappeared back to his cruiser.

“No fucking way. After all of that, he’s still giving me a fucking ticket?” You asked out loud, eyeing the ticket paper resisting the urge to rush it in your fist. You were heated all over again, ready to punch something – until it occurred to you he never actually took your license or anything. You reached up and pressed on the ceiling light to get a better look at the ticket. The entire form was blank. “Huh?” Flipping it over in confusion you saw the penciled note. ‘Try to drive more carefully, Sweetheart. Call me if you need a tour. - Leon Kennedy’

Your jaw hung open, shocked by the utter audacity of him after all of that. You knew you should’ve shred that paper up on the spot, or reported him. Instead, for whatever reason that only god knew, you tossed it into your glove compartment before reading over the directions he’d given you. With a turn of the key into the ignition, you pulled out onto the dark road, taking off to make the trip back home.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ok sooooo, I’ve been like lowkey stalking your page, specially your Hobie x reader stuff…..I’m in love, your writing is 🤌. Anyway if you’re open to the ideas could you do a spidey reader with light light manipulation powers and their personality matches their powers. Just some cute fluffy opposites attract kind of thing with Hobie. Even if you don’t feel like writing for it that’s totally fine! I love your work so much, have a good day!

I took a lotta inspiration from dagger (cloak and dagger) for this so 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Glowing

Everyone thought Hobie was scary for some reason. You didn’t see why, he was great.

“Hobie!” You called out. He turned back as soon as he heard your sweet voice. He smiled as he stopped walking and waited for you as you ran up to him.

You ran up and hugged him, putting your arms around his neck as he picked you up, your legs around his waist.

You covered his face in kisses. Smiling as you hopped down.

“How are you?” You asked him.

“I’m alright, love, how are you?” He asked, as you both continued to walk.

“I’m good.”

You both talked for a while, then you both walked into Miguel’s office for a new mission.

He looked through some files, and then looked at you both as he picked one up.

“Cover up your neck.” He mumbled, looking at you and handing you the file.

You grew embarrassed as you realized the hickey that Hobie had given you.

“Y-yes sir.” You said, as you both left the office.

Hobie laughed and you hit his shoulder.

“Hobie! It’s not funny.” You whined.

“It is to me.” He snickered.

You sighed and opened the folder.

“Another Kraven? I feel like this is the millionth one we’ve done.” He said, looking at it.

“Feels like it. Oh well.” You shrugged. “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.” You kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled slightly at that, as he opened up a portal.

“Ladies first.”

You giggled, and walked through the portal, him following behind you.

“Alright, so on my watch it says that he should be… south of here.” He said, messing with the watch and looking that way.

You looked around, it was dark out, your white suit bright in the darkness.

You both started to swing, your bright white webs glowing in the moonlight.

(Your webs are Kinda like Miguel’s)

Finally, he looked up and stopped swinging, so you stopped. He pointed at a man with giant stature. He was wearing a coat, as most kravens did. And tight leopard leggings.

You both watched him some more, he was walking down a street. You guys followed behind him.

When he went down a small alley, you both quietly walked behind for a while. After a while, You webbed him up, he turned around quickly and broke the webs. You blinked in shock.

“Well.. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.” You said, looking at Hobie.

“I was.” He snickered. Kraven tan towards the both of you.

Your eyes went wide as he did so. You shot a light blast from your hands, the light solidifying as it left your hands.

Kraven took a fall, and Hobie then shot his webs, and webbed him to the ground.

Kraven yelled, and broke free of the webs. He went to throw a punch at you, but you stopped him with your hand.

“That is one strong arm you got.” You said, pushing him back, as Hobie kicked him from the back when he didn’t expect it.

He groaned in pain, and almost fell on top of you before you pushed him off.

“ewewewewew.. you couldn’t put on some deodorant or something?” You groaned and wiped your hands from his sweat.

He quickly got back up, and you used your powers to make a bright, glowing row of daggers, and threw them at him.

He fell back next to the wall with cuts all over him.

You and hobie both webbed him in a ball, and then gave each other a high five.

“That was.. sexy.” He mumbled.

“Really? I mean you weren’t so bad yourself.” He lifted up his mask quickly, and so did you. You both kissed, Kraven rolled his eyes and was gonna say something when hobie webbed his mouth. He grabbed your cheek, and it was more rough now.

“Hiya! So Miguel asked me to check on you both but it seems like you’re busy...” Lyla’s cheery voice appeared.

You gasped and pulled away, pulling your mask down.

“Lyla! Sorry. Yeah, we got him.” You said, going next to Kraven and posing next to him. He just side-eyed you

“Great! I’ll let him know. You look glowing by the way.” She winked at you and you just smiled as she disappeared.

Tag list- @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @I-pandamic-I-

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh

[radiodust-heart]

Im finding i like the idea of Angel being as bad ass as milly, like ive been day dteaming of Vox taking advantage of Alastor being hurt and the v's gangin up on him. Making the wound bigger and pitting more gashes on him. Rebreaking his cane cause the metal was frail in the middle from the first time it broke. They took it away from him and tied him up. Slapping a scarf in his mouth and putting a mask over it with a drawn on smile.

Vox collects a party of souls they own and a witness to wed him in Alastor. (If you marry in hell you share power and souls automatically) the plan was to marry Alastor then kill him so vox could take his power. Vel puts Alastor in a wedding dress. He tries to fight but everytime he does he makes his wounds worse. Vel ends up having to hold him up durring the ceramony.

Angek gets wind of it from one of his fellow porn stars texting him. He highjacks Vals car and crashes it into the building. The vs give the order to open fire and they do but Angel isnt in the car. It blows up and when it does he crashes in.

'if yuh want my beloved yer gonna have ta kill me'

Confessing to everyine hes in love with Alastor, he tears apart the wedding party and Alastor is smitten by the display if carnage. Angel shoots Vox in the face, breaking the screen. He shoots Val right n the asshole then throws them both off the stand to scramble over one another. He turns to vel and she steps back. Angel throws Alastor over his shoulder then as everyones getting up he turns to them and smacks Alastors ass.

'His ass is mine'

He leaves carrying Alastor bridal style, muttering how pissed he is. But Alastor lost a lot of blood and isnt all that coherent. And this is where it gets mad crack.

- lucifer is messing with elexures and his ducks, accedentally dumbing something on one and it grows. Tearing a hole in his house as it goes to rampage down the street. He calls charlie and then tries to catch up to it. They just barely catch up when it gets to the lust district. Cut back to Angel. Hes blind sighted when the gaint rubber duck opens its mouth and slaps ita tongue around. Knocking him down and wrapping around Alastor the demon is woozy from blood lose and cant really use his powers withput his staff or risk opening his body more.

Angel groans. Charlie starts explaning what happened as Angel rips some fabric and lights a bottle. He trhwos it at the duck to get its attention then pole vlots his way to it. Stapping his way up to the duck. He prys open its mouth to grab Alastor but hes so out of it he tjinks its a game. Angel just grabs him cuts the beasts tongue, throws Alastor out.

Charlie and Vaggie run around trying to catch him but its Husk that catches him. Husk watches Angel and makes a joke.

'Oh he totally tops you' which Alastor pushes his face and calls him gross. Angel cuts open the beast and a sea of blood washes over the area, he emergest soaked in blood. He dismisses Charlie when she runs to him.

"Is Al ok" he wonders.

Cleaning up the mess, Angel stitches Alastor back together and takes care of his wounds old and new then mends his cane properly.

[the-hotel-cortez]

Destiny’s Anarchy [Pt. 2]

AN: More than a year later and back with parts of this series that I never posted. My writing has GREATLY improved since this period in time so I may finish this series up if anyone is miraculously still invested. 🫡

Back ⬅️ Pt. 1

Forward ➡️ Pt. 3 [TBW]

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻𝔂: When Michael visits Miss Robichaux’s Academy for his test of The Seven Wonders, your unspoken rivalry soon blossoms into something more. But when you receive a vision and see Michael’s destined fate, it’s up to you to do the devil’s work and change the inevitable. Saving the Antichrist? Not something everyone can put on their resume.

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Major angst, blood required for a ritual spell (🥀,⚠️)

AN: Did I cry writing this? No, no, definitely not. I’m sorry in advance for how sad this chapter is, but it is necessary for me to set up my main plot for the story. So grab some kleenex if you need, and try to enjoy. <3

As you opened your eyes, a bright glare slowly faded into the glow of daylight. You stood dumbfounded on the sidewalk as your vision came into focus. You had never experienced anything this real before, only flashes of future and past. Whatever Michael had done, it had amplified your powers ten-fold.

Across the street lay a modest California home, an array of red rose bushes decorating the lawn. You began to question why you were here, all until the door of the house opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

Michael.

Something about him was different, more youthful. He was dressed in a bright yellow t-shirt, jean jacket, and khaki pants. Something you never thought you’d ever get to see him wear. Your amusement was cut short as he walked out of the house and towards the road. A large black SUV sped along the very same street, not showing any signs of stopping. You gasped, and only seconds later it was all over. Michael lay sprawled out in the asphalt, coated in his own blood.

You couldn’t move. You wanted more than anything to run to him, hold him in your arms and tell him everything would be ok, but something held you in place no matter how hard you tried. What was this? The past? He looked so young, so innocent. Unlike the present Michael you knew. If this was the past, why was he dying? How could he still be alive and with you this very moment at Robichaux’s? Before any of your questions could be answered, you were wrenched back into darkness.

As you awoke, you had expected to be back in your room, safe and sound at the academy. Though luck was not on your side. The dim light of torches lit the area around you, a fiery orange hue spreading through the entire room. You looked around groggily, instantly recognising the mystery location. It was Hawthorne.

Though something about it was different. It was quiet, unlike its usual loud bustling of teenage warlocks. Dust hung heavy in the air, and the entire space was enclosed in a strange darkness. It looked as if it had been untouched for years.

Your stomach dropped as you spotted a glistening trail of blood outside the cracked door of the room. Tiptoeing over to the opening, you followed the trail. A deafening scream broke the silence, and you quickly peered outside.

There stood Michael, once again, but much different this time. He had long, flowing hair, and a velvet jacket that matched the blood that stained the floor and walls. It would have been a beautiful sight; that is, if you didnt realise the blood was his own. Despite his injuries, he was still standing. Standing over the body of a girl.

It was Madison.

You stifled back tears as a mix of rage and disappointment overcame you. How could he do this? Just a few moments ago, he looked like an innocent child. Now… he was a monster. You watched reluctantly as he made his way to the second floor, slaughtering more members of your coven along the way. Your sisters, your family. You couldn’t compose yourself, half in denial of what you were seeing. This couldn’t be real… yet part of you knew it was.

Once again, as your tears flowed, darkness enveloped you.

Blood rushed to your head as you came to, dizziness clouding your mind accompanied by the lingering rage and confusion of what you had seen. The ground felt warm under you now and your body drenched in sweat.

“What did you see?” His voice was curious, yet a tone of worry clung to his words. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Stifling back you let your vision re-focus as the world reformed. “You.”

“I saw you.”

PART 3 HERE [TBW]

Tag list: Tag list: @evilcr0ne @kitwalker02 @sallyscigarettes @bellaisasleep @lil-dreg @mary-jinx

[deceptive-daydreams]

The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Seven - Bake Sale

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - The calm after the storm.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

8.7K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, drug dealing, allusions to mental illness, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: i think im super proud of this one omg guys also...I put a little note at the end cause i didn't wanna spoil anything by saying what i was gonna say. also i fixated so much on each section of this as i wrote it so its like half proof read and then i was like ok the rest is up to god

Masterlist

Prev |

The storm subsided at around 2:00 AM and it would go down as the biggest storm in Hawkins’ history to date.  The flooding was unlike anything anyone had seen in years and the poor unequipped town was drenched to its roots.  Minor water damage affected homes and businesses, nothing too devastating but an inconvenience nonetheless.  A few trees had been struck down, if not by lightning then by the high winds that coursed through the night like they owned it.  Streets were blocked off with caution tape and traffic cones as the damages were assessed and Hawkins Square was littered in deep puddles that would soak you up to the knee if you happened to misstep.

It was fitting.  The world seemed to look just as you felt.  Mutilated.  Tarnished.  The calm after the storm, indeed.  Although things that night looked up between you and Eddie, an invisible peace treaty signed by the ink bleeding on the coffee cup, the scars didn’t just vanish.  This wasn’t a movie, this was real life and things didn’t just become beautiful again over night.  Pain didn’t just cease because you wanted it to or because someone said the right thing.  Someone could say a million of the right things but it doesn’t excuse their wrongdoings and the harm they’re capable of.  And it doesn’t erase them as someone who would pull the trigger on you if given the chance.

The sun flowed into the room at just the right angle, the kitchen countertop illuminated with the faintest rainbow in the morning light.  Beauty after tragedy.  It was cold, god was it cold.  The apartment might as well have been a walk-in freezer at this point, a place where you could store cold cuts and popsicles without hesitation.  But it was hard to complain about your living conditions when there was a warmth blossoming deep within your very being.  Whiskey colored eyes had the same effect as the real thing.  Warming you up from the inside out, relaxing every tensed muscle, melting away every stupid problem.  It pooled deep within you, a buried desire that was clawing its way out of your chest.  You’d been without a glance of those rich and honeyed irises for at least six hours, well into the beginning of the hour of 8:00 AM and yet it felt like you’d drank them in seconds ago with the way your veins heated.  The way your blood pumped and your nerves mellowed out.  If he was like a smooth shot of whiskey, you were at risk of becoming an alcoholic if you weren’t careful.

Snap out of it.

This was not a fairytale, things could not be fixed overnight.  He was still a stranger to you, a shell, you could not settle into comfort so easily, no matter how good it felt.  It didn’t matter that the buzz lingering beneath your surface was far more powerful than the first time at sixteen.

It didn’t matter.

All you knew was hurt by the hands of those closest and you weren’t going to let it happen again.  Never again.  Not even for boyish dimples.  Not even for the stupid cup of hot chocolate.  And certainly not for the way it felt to be pressed against his back when you begrudgingly accepted a ride home on his death machine of a motorcycle the night of the storm.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t have prime real estate in the back of your mind.

–

His hair.  Several curls falling from the confines of the low messy bun that should warrant a lecture from you on the food safety guidelines but you can’t bring yourself to do it.  Soft brown tendrils framed a concentrated face, tongue poked out in deep thought at the simple task of blending ice and coffee.  The grinding of the blades against the ice for longer than necessary should have you in shambles, causing an uproar, at the very least scolding him under your breath.  You don’t.  Instead it’s as if you’re under some kind of spell, a spell that continuously draws you to the insufferable but absolute Disney prince of a man before you.  It had been years since you’d seen him in such a light and it made everything all the more conflicting.

I hate him.

Several curses escaped his delicately pink lips as the blender came to a halt, the consistency of the liquid was long overblended and almost became a thicker milk but all you could focus on as his back came to face you was his broad shoulders, far more adult than you’d ever realized.  He was no longer a lanky high schooler, his frame had filled out and it filled out in his favor.  Had his arms only recently become a touch manlier or did your subconscious automatically blur it out all those times you encountered him only to end up with even more distaste after each interaction?  A distaste which would only blind you to the man he grew into.

No, I hate him.

But the moment you would tear your gaze away it would only gravitate right back to his hands which you guessed were noticeably larger than your own but you were in no position to find out.  With his rings more than likely temporarily abandoned atop the table in the back, his fingers seemed bare.  It only further made you appreciate them, a flash of a daydream posed in your mind where large hands decorated with chipped black polish rested at your waist.  

No, no, no.

He was not yours to daydream about nor would you want him to be.

Although…it was okay to think of him as physically attractive all while still keeping him at a distance wasn’t it?  After all, he was still awful.  You force yourself to recall the horrible things he’s said to you but you can only counter it with the appalling remarks you’d made in return.  Though he committed a horrendous act years ago that would make you bleed for years to come, you knew it didn’t warrant some of the comments you’d snapped at him in passing.  Especially those about his social status.  It was becoming apparent after the previous night’s conversation that you both struggled verbally and that his crude comments were always met with your degrading criticism.  You were both instigators.

But it was proving difficult to keep him in such a villainous light when he was so radiant.  So effortlessly alluring even as he tossed his liquified concoction into the sink with his brows knit tightly together and profanities falling from his tongue, thankfully quiet enough as to not alert any customers.  In all honesty, all he’s proved was that he was an awful barista.  Even then, it didn’t bother you as much as it should, your desire to scream at him would’ve been off the charts 24 hours ago.  That desire hadn’t even been simmering beneath your surface, the only desire burning within your depths was something unspoken and something you could never let bubble over ever again.  You wouldn’t.

Reality began settling back in, an enraged customer snapping his fingers at you, demanding your attention as your eyes widened at the realization that he’d been waiting on a simple black cup of coffee for the past few minutes.  Had the shop been busier you would’ve found a polite way to shut him up but in all fairness there were only three other customers at the moment, two of which were already enjoying their drinks.  Regardless, it didn’t seem to warrant the entitled behavior of the frowning middle aged man, a simple where is my order? would have sufficed.

“I’m so sorry, let me check on that for you.”

Customer service served with a smile.  And a side of sarcasm.

“Oh, you’ll check on that?  It’s a cup of coffee.  How hard is it to make—“

“There was a mix up with the orders, here’s your coffee.  My fault.”  Eddie slid the cup across the to go counter to its awaiting consumer, eyes slightly narrowed.

There was no mix up.  You really did forget all about the bland coffee up until you were rudely reminded.  And it definitely wasn’t Eddie’s fault.

—

1 Week Later

There was no escaping how absolutely enchanting a mundane task such as scrubbing the sink was.  It didn’t make sense and yet you lingered, pretending to rinse out the blender one time too many with the hope of catching Eddie’s forearms flex in his movements as he maneuvered the sponge around the sink.

Pathetic.

Which is why you tried so hard to snap yourself out of it.  Though you told yourself a week ago that you could admire from afar, even that was starting to not feel like enough which is why it needed to stop.  Eddie Munson had finally apologized to you but that didn’t mean throw caution to the wind.  You don’t just suddenly trust someone that for years only gave you reasons to steer far from them.  The key phrase was that he finally apologized.  Meaning he took far too long.  Fucked up too long ago and prolonged inexcusable behavior so far into the future that it was beyond repairing.  He didn’t deserve your sympathy or your persisting gaze.  Sorry meant nothing in the face of years of destruction.

Keep telling yourself that.

Because all you did was remain fixated on those stupid bats decorating his forearm for as long as rinsing out the blender would allow.  You had no idea how big of a breath you were holding in as you stood there next to him until you pulled away, snagging a rag from beneath the coffee bar to dry the container.  Lungs suddenly exhausted, you attempted to regain a semblance of your composure.

Every conversation since that one night had gone the same.  A few words exchanged pertaining to work only, some on his behalf coming off as silly banter only for you to keep your focus on any task you could grasp nearby, acting as if he bored you.  It killed him but he respected it.  That didn’t mean he’d stop trying to make nice.  If the only positive response he received from you all week was an accidental crack in your smile he would take it.  It’d be gone quicker than it came but he cherished it all the same.  In the last few weeks he came to terms with the fact that he could be on his best behavior but that didn’t mean you had to accept it which in turn meant that he would have to accept that.

So your muffled answers of ‘mhm’ and ‘yeah’ to everything he said felt like the end of the world to him but if it meant peace for you then he’d endure it.  The way you’d avoid his eyes made him miss you.  You were an arms length away but he missed you.  And no, it didn’t mean he necessarily missed prodding at you because you both had this sick game of who could throw the worst insult for years, it meant that he missed your attention, whether it be in spiteful phrases or aggressive stares.  He’d take what he could get and now, he was getting nothing.  He was starved, absolutely deficient of your gaze even if it did hold such a hateful fire for him.  Eddie supposes avoidance feels even worse than face to face conflict that was never even meant to be.  And it’s only because the way you shut down made him feel non-existent in your world.  At least before he had a place.

—

1 Week Later

Before every night shift at The Under-Ground was a grueling eight hours at the auto shop.  Hours that Eddie would spend mentally ripping himself to shreds even more so than before your more recent communication with him.  Although he hated himself for even thinking about it, he’d sometimes wager the idea of picking a small fight with you just to earn a fraction of your recognition, even if in a negative light.  Then he’d quickly acknowledge that doing so would only provide further evidence that he was never worthy of a moment of your time in the first place.  And he still fully believed that.  But he was eager to someday become the guy that was.

So when Steve Harrington strolled into the shop, twirling his keys around his finger, Eddie’s grip on his wrench tightened as he pushed himself further under the Chevy he’d been working on.  He’d never forgive Steve for all that happened, he’d take responsibility for his side of things but Steve inflicted a kind of pain on you that he could read in your eyes every time he saw you.  Though you hadn’t said much about Steve to him directly, the way you fixated on him and Eddie being ‘together’ dulled a certain light within you.  How could Steve let it happen if he knew the outcome?  The same could be asked of himself but he was concentrating on Steve right now.  The best friend.  The last person in the world you’d think to hurt you.

“Hey, Munson.”

At his feet stood the man in question.  The one that he’d swear to never associate with again.  Ignoring him wasn’t going to accomplish anything however he tried regardless.

“Munson.”

Figures.

“Get outta here, Harrington.”  Eddie remained monotone, uninterested in any persistence Steve was forcing upon him.

“Please, I need-“

“Need what?  Need me to get you off again?  Get out.”  It was said between clenched teeth, patience no longer a virtue.  There was rage bubbling under the surface and if he wasn’t careful, it would boil over and create an even bigger mess.  His conscience silenced his true inner monologue though that didn’t completely shut down his capabilities of biting back.  It was just much more stifled.

“No—what?  No, of course not.”  Steve’s nerves were fried and Eddie could tell just by the shake in his voice.  Fluorescent lights did him no favors, his usually radiant glow now dull in the stuffy garage.

“Then what, what are you doing in my bay?”  A seething Eddie slides out from underneath the sedan, sitting up to glare at the king himself.  “‘Cause I don’t have time for—whatever this is.”  He gestures between himself and Steve, fingers covered in grease.

“Just—I—have you, have you talked to her?”  Distraught.  Steve has the audacity to come off as distraught.  Eddie’s deep breath only furrows Steve’s brows, the vein in his neck straining as he focuses on the nearly irate mechanic before him.  

“Listen.”  Eddie’s coveralls are further tarnished with the oily substance from his hands as he wipes them on the rough navy material, frustration evident in the way his eyes squeeze shut for a mere second.  “You two seem to think communicating through me is going to fix this whole thing but it’s not.”  If he could run a hand down his face out of habit he would.  Instead he offers another sigh, a disappointed one.  “You need to talk to each other.  You keep using the enemy as a pawn and it's just gonna blow up in your face.”

“Munson, you’re not the enemy–”

Steve attempts to make nice, tries to let Eddie know that he’s not what he claimed him to be all those times.  Truth be told, Steve was always jealous.  

“Don’t try pitying me, dude.”  

It’s silent aside from the clanging of some tools a few bays down, the two staring at each other, one displaying an expression of warning while the other creases his forehead in some form of a plea.  An unsaid call for help.

“I’m not, I’m not!  I think we’ve both fucked up.  Bad.”  Way to go, Steve.  That’ll really help your case.  “Only difference is you fucked up in high school, we were all still kids.”  His words are lost on Eddie, he can tell by the way he reaches back to release his unruly curls from the confines of a bun, his head shaking around like a shaggy dog.  “I fucked up now so there’s no–no excuse of ‘we were so young!  I was dumb!’”

His excuse was that he’s selfish.  That was really all there was to it, no bigger picture, no hidden meaning that might bring justice to his name.  Steve was a horny guy and he in all honesty hadn’t considered the consequences of his actions.  Not even after Robin just about tore him a new one after she found out about the first time.  It’s like he’d forgotten all about the absolute heartbreak you went through, the fact that Eddie harbored a sore spot in your barely beating heart was miles away from his thought process.  King Steve must not have been buried that deep beneath his surface after all, not long forgotten back in junior year like he’d thought.  He was right here all along with the knife in his hand, unintentionally but still brutally stabbing you in the back.  And in the aftermath he was forced to bathe in the product of his egocentric ways.  No amount of self help books could remedy what seemed to be another broken heart, but even worse, platonically.  

This wasn’t like when he and Nancy called it quits back in senior year.  This was in a way, more gut wrenching and possibly pulled more tears from him than Nancy’s cutting but truthful words ever could.  And that’s saying something.  He shed a lot of tears that dreadful night but he’d go as far to say that he shed more the night you caught him hopping out of Eddie’s van.  Repercussions slammed his very existence and all he could do was blame himself because you had done nothing wrong and yet he went and severed the very friendship of someone who stuck by him through every questionable thing he had done.

And it was all over someone he never had any feelings for in the first place.  And over someone you did.  At least at some point.  

“Steve, I don’t have an excuse and you know it.”  Eddie was aware that he sounded borderline pathetic but what else did he have to hide?  His gaze lowered to his filthy boot, eyes as tired as his brain was before exhaling in defeat.  “I still keep fucking up whether I mean it or not.”  His pupils seemed to dilate in mourning, of what exactly, Steve couldn’t pinpoint.  Then Eddie shook his head, resentment etched into his features as he ran his tongue behind his teeth before clicking it in displeasure.  “Why are you even searching for an excuse?  What we both did was shitty.  But for you it might be even worse because while I was the ‘bad guy’ the whole time, you were still her best friend.”

Steve was well aware.  He craved the bliss that came with being ignorant but that was no longer something he could allow himself to do.

“Yeah.”  He breathes out, earnest eyes dropping to the scuffed floor below him.

“Yeah?  That’s it?  You need to like, go beg for mercy or some shit.”  

Receiving advice from Eddie Munson was the last thing Steve ever thought he’d be doing and yet here he was.  Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was schooling him and suddenly everything felt so backwards.  But maybe that’s how it needed to be in order for things to go back to how they were.  For you to at least talk to him, if not to beg for your mercy then to apologize profusely before leaving his fate in your hands.

“I know, man.”  A pitiful sigh escaped his lungs, too pitiful for Eddie’s liking.

The smell of fumes throughout the shop lingered in Steve’s nostrils which left him with a tinge of discomfort but nothing could prepare him for the way Eddie almost instantly stood to tower over him despite being around the same height.  It was his demeanor that made him feel inferior.  Dark eyes, deepening even more so from aggravation, lips contorted into a condemning scowl, fists clenched at his side, knuckles white.

“I don’t think you do, ‘cause why are you coming to me?”  Flared nostrils declared a new vendetta against Steve.  

“I-I���”

“Man up, Steve.  Say whatever you’re trying to say to me, to her.  I’m not the one who needs an apology.”  It was fair enough.  Steve wasn’t sure why he walked into that garage just minutes ago.  Maybe it was because despite what everyone says, Eddie was fairly level headed.  Maybe it’s because Steve needed someone stubborn to mentally beat some sense into him and Eddie was the only one he could think of to do it with no remorse.

With a noticeable gulp, Steve felt his eyes sting but didn’t dare let any tears surface.  He was not throwing a pity party.  “I don’t know how.  She won’t even talk to me–I–every time I try–”  

“That’s not my problem is it?  ‘M just your boy toy, remember?”  

Ouch.  

Among the turmoil Steve had created, he failed to understand that Eddie could be just as affected.  And what Eddie wouldn’t willingly reveal was that he was genuinely hurt.  Because you were hurt.  And because Steve seemed like the most oblivious idiot on the planet.  Sure he had his words with you and he wasn’t proud of most of them but that was another beast.  He had always been the opposing force, Steve was your right hand man the entire time.  In all honesty, Eddie couldn’t care less about Steve using him for pleasure, he cared that he did it at your expense whether he bothered to know that or not the few times they met up.  He knew he was just some guy so what was there to lose but Steve?  Steve had a lot to lose.

“Eddie, you wanted it too.”  Steve’s head shook in contemplation, longing for the right words but always finding the wrong ones.

“Yeah, well not anymore.”

Eddie’s harsh front faltered, exhausted as his shoulders slumped.  Steve ran a nervous hand through his stupid big hair and for some reason it put Eddie on edge.

“Obviously.”  Steve exhales, nodding before his eyes give away that he was lost in thought.  

“So why are you here?”

A valid question.  A question that Steve was finding he didn’t want to answer.  But he had to.

“Because–because I feel like I, I owe you an apology.”  He babbled at first, humiliating himself further before finding his footing and grasping the words that he knew would ground him.  Even if he didn’t like it, he knew this was the start of putting the pieces back together.

“Again, you’re talking to the wrong person–”  Eddie appeared worn out, head tilted back and gaze fixed to the ceiling as he let out a self soothing breath before being interrupted.

“I’m sorry for trash talking you for as long as we’ve known each other and then using you.”  He never thought he’d hear such words from Steve Harrington.  Which made it all that much more awkward to respond to.

“Thanks?”

Eddie expects that to be the end of it, waits for Steve to press his lips into a straight line in the silence and then stride out the large bay door without another word but he doesn’t.  And he kind of wants to kick his ass as more words begin to pour from his mouth. 

“I know…I know she should be the first person I apologize to, and, and I’ve tried to but she’s not my biggest fan right now.”  Boo hoo.  That’s the only response Eddie can conjure up so he keeps his mouth shut.  “And I guess, I feel like I can’t until I fix this first because Eddie…”  Steve sucks in such a large breath that Eddie feels like he may have been on the verge of passing out.  But he also senses it’s because all of this is very difficult for Steve to say aloud.  Within the same breath, Steve releases the rest of the words he was clutching so tightly to in his chest.  “She was so head over heels for you back then and I fucking spit on your name no matter how much she talked you up.  And I know you ruined things on your own but I went and fucked things up on my own and I don’t know how I could’ve done it so easily knowing, knowing how much she liked you and then how much she was hurt by you.  And then I went and did what I did, it just–it doesn’t make sense, I know.”

It’s quiet again.  Neither man speaking, only looking at each other in anticipation.  And after several moments of distant metal clanging against metal a few bays over, Eddie finally clears his throat.

“Harrington,”  He starts, eyes flashing with the most intimidating fire you’d ever see.   “You’re throwing the biggest pity party I’ve ever seen and if this is how you plan to apologize to her you should just give up now.”

The sentiment was cruel but beneath it was a plea of ‘get your shit together, please’.  And god, he hopes Steve picks up on it.  

“Yeah…yeah.”  Steve’s eyes were glazed over, the thinnest sheen of tears coating them before he blinked them back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eddie guesses Wayne is rubbing off on him because his next words come off more wise than cruel.  An unexpected empathy resonated within him though he doesn’t fully believe it’s well deserved.

“What you need to do is just admit you messed up.  No excuses.  If she really matters to you, you don’t need to sit here and apologize to me and get all up in your feelings.  You need to talk to her and if she doesn’t wanna listen…”  He sighs, a sort of calm overtaking him.  “Well, respect it.”

Steve seemed to ponder, the advice overwhelming him but still penetrating through his thick skull.

–

Steve👸: Hey

Steve👸: Can we talk?

Sox🧦 : No

Steve👸 : Five minutes.  And then you’ll never have to hear from me again.  Promise.

“Who are you texting?”  Will leaned over to view your phone screen, ever the nosy boy.  Quickly clicking the off button, you refrain from sharing any messy details of what happened between you and Steve.  Sure he’d seen the initial smack down in the parking lot which you regret but he didn’t need to know anything more.  Hell, he didn’t even know that Robin was out of your circle.

“No one, I was just checking something for one of my assignments.”

“Liar.”  What you always forgot was how much of a bloodhound he was.  Could sniff out anything that smells slightly off.  It always caught you off guard although it only made you look like a fool since he did it time and time again.  Throwing a surprise party for his sixteenth birthday was impossible with the way he was such a detective.

“Nuh uh!”  You defended, placing your phone face down on the flour coated counter of the Byers kitchen, an egg taking its place in your hand as you cracked it against the off-white ceramic bowl.  

“Yuh huh!  Give me that–”

“Knock it off!”  Waving Will off, you threaten in a simple gesture to let the slimy egg white and yolk ruin his newest Hellfire shirt, a special edition design created just by him.  It was quite impressive actually, dragons symmetric on the front, breathing fire onto the logo overlaid with a skull and crossbones.

With a scoff, Will surrenders with his hands thrown up and eyes wide, amusement prominent across his face.  “It’s Steve, I already saw it.  So what are you trying to hide from me this time?”

“What–I’m not trying to hide anything.”  You were just further certifying yourself as a liar, but you felt this one time it was for good reason.

“Then why can’t I see it?”

An intense stare burned into the side of your face as you attempted to resume your unfinished baking, barely even started but the kitchen showcased several dirty bowls, some housed in the sink piled high in soapy water while others were scattered across the laminate.  Brownie batter, cookie dough, cake mix, the works.  It would appear as if you were preparing for a bake sale if anyone were to walk in.  But was just a Friday night turned into a full fledged baking frenzy on a whim.  Which was much needed after a particularly stressful shift at The Under-Ground, it had been busier than most days, mostly because fall activities began to ensue.  Hawkins’ famous hayride had started up for the season and dropped off several families in the square who only trickled into the shop for hot drinks and buttery yet sweet pastries.  Screaming children were not something you were anticipating hearing all night but it made you appreciate the calm of closing up after, only the sounds of you dropping change into the register mixed with Eddie humming under his breath as he swept up graced your tired ears.

“Just leave it alone.  Please?”  An eggshell is tossed into the makeshift scraps bowl you’d set aside nearby, a bit too aggressively for comfort.  A telltale sign that Will should not leave it alone.

“I’m not a baby.  You don’t need to protect me from all the ugly shit that happens.”  He was seventeen, still a baby to you.  But the irritation was apparent in the way that he grabbed the bowl of brownie batter from the counter, glaring at it like it owed him money, however you knew the glare was meant for you.  “I wanna be there for you like you’re there for me.”

Fuck.  That just about ripped your heart in two.  He was such a sweet kid, always wanting to do right by those he cared about.  You bounced the idea back and forth, should you enlighten him or continue shielding him?  Your decision was made for you when the words tumbled from your lips, your subconscious declaring that Will could forever be the baby of the group but he was growing up regardless and you couldn’t hold him to that standard for eternity.  He would eventually have to face uncomfortable situations and hiding them from him completely might do more harm than good, he deserved to be in the know and to feel like an equal rather than some naive child.

“Okay.  Um–yeah, it’s uh, it’s Steve…”

“And…?”

“He just wants to talk.”

Your wooden spoon scraped against the bowl, combining the dry and wet ingredients together, your concentration never leaving the forming batter.  Red velvet.  Will set down the brownie batter he had been inspecting, reaching for a glass dish and proceeding to butter it up generously, the oven already preheated behind him. 

“You haven’t talked to him since…”  He cocks a curious brow at you, momentarily looking up at you from his current task.

“No.  No, I don’t even wanna see him.”  Your admission is quiet, almost ashamed.  “But, um, let’s just, let’s just finish this up.”  The attempt to change the subject fails, the boy dropping his head down to catch your averted eyes.

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No.”  You tread carefully, ever so cautious of the fact that Will had the ability to catch the slightest hesitation in your tone.

“Really?  Cause I smell bullshit.”  Such a damn bloodhound.

“Why would I want to talk to him?  Didn’t you see what happened?”  Though it was a fair point, you knew you were being avoidant and that it wouldn’t necessarily help anything, only prolong the pain and the awkwardness that would come with finally speaking to him.  It had been weeks which would already create a nasty film between the two of you, something grimy and difficult to just scrub away.

Will offers a sympathetic sigh, and unspoken ‘I know you’re hurting but isolating yourself is only going to hurt more’ and you’re fully aware that he knows that feeling all too well.  “I did see and it was really bad.  But you’re not even gonna hear what he has to say about it?”  His gentle approach was appreciated though it was just the way you talked to each other about these things.  No judgment, only the right questions.

“Will, you have no idea of some of the other things that happened years ago that make this so much worse than it already is.”  You’d regret how whiny you sounded except he’d seen you at your most vulnerable before so it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before.

“Okay, then what do I not know?”  The gooey chocolate batter is poured into the glass dish he had prepared, resembling how your feelings were about to ooze right out of your very being.

“I’m not getting into all that now.”

“No, you don’t get to do that!”  He doesn’t sound unkind but not the friendliest either, slamming the now empty bowl on the counter.  You had it coming, you suppose.  “You’re visibly stressed out, even worse lately, I’m one of the only ones that notices and I’m not even allowed to know the full story?”

“Will.”

There’s no saying no to his expression, blue eyes blinking at you and brows raised in anticipation.  There’s no trace of judgment, just curiosity and worry.  And just as you’re about to dive in head first and reveal all that you tried to withhold, the ring of the doorbell shuts you up just as fast.

The digital numbers on the stove read 10:46 PM, an ungodly hour for anyone to be ringing someone’s doorbell which is why you and Will share the same puzzled look, eyes shifting from each other toward the front door just off the kitchen.  Will doesn’t necessarily live in the most populated area so there’s reason to be concerned over a visitor at such late hours.

“You get it.”  Will rushes out.  “Nose goes!”  A speedy finger touches the tip of his nose, your cheeks flushing in irritation as the doorbell chimes once more.  “Go!”  He whisper yells, gently pushing you toward the door.  A scowl remains on your face as you take your time.  Will would do anything for you.  Except sacrifice himself to the serial killer knocking at his own front door apparently.  You’d never cursed a door so harshly for not having a peephole.

Deep down, you knew it’d more than likely be someone like Jonathan.  It was the logical explanation, he’d lost his key and since he didn’t live here anymore, now residing in an apartment closer to downtown with Nancy, he didn’t have the urgency to replace it.  But Jonathan would usually be pounding on the door, announcing that it was him.  Could it be Joyce?  Doubtful.  She always knew where everything was and keys were the most important out of everything you’d come to learn after she scolded Jonathan for not replacing his old key to the house just in case of an emergency.  Maybe it was Lucas?  He never screamed or announced his presence when showing up.  Couldn’t be Dustin or Mike, they were too rowdy and would never wait this long before jiggling the handle and yelling that they knew Will was home and to ‘answer the damn door’.  It could be El?  But never Max.  Max had a distinct knock, firm and heavy, no bullshit, never rang the doorbell.  The build up was only making you more anxious by the second as you’d reached for the doorknob.  You’d probably be the first one dead in a horror movie, you had no idea why you let Will force you to answer his door.  Regardless, you ever so slightly twisted the knob and the door creaked open, only a sliver of the outside visible as you tried your best to peek around the crack.  And before you could even begin to make out any figure awaiting entry on the porch, a large hand splayed across the wood and pushed it effortlessly, sending you stumbling back as the wind knocked out of you.

“Okay, Byers.  Where’s my dice?  And my game controller?”  

Eddie.

He’d side stepped through the door, forcing his way in obviously only expecting Will but still not realizing you stood before him as he glanced around the house.  

“C’mon you knew I’d be stopping by after work, little Byers.  I’ve been looking for that controller for fucking weeks–”

You could pinpoint the moment realization hit him that he was mouthing off to you and not Will.  His eyes seemed to almost soften.  Pupils dilating so suddenly.  And then he was speechless, mouth opening and closing but words never spilling out.  Then it hit you that you probably looked ridiculous in the Mickey Mouse apron you had been strutting around in, various types of batter smeared on your cheeks and chin, maybe some on your nose too but you couldn’t remember.  And god, you were wearing your fuzzy pajama pants littered with pumpkins and bats finished off with some fuzzy socks that were striped like candy corn.

Eddie had never wanted to fall to his knees for someone so badly in his life.

He’d never seen you like this before.

Tacky.

In the most adorable way.

“I–um, I was looking for–”

“Will?”  You finish for him, desperately trying to pull our eyes away from him but finding it impossible.  And then you realized what he was wearing which only spurred on your need to drink him in.  A black Metallica shirt cropped just above his happy trail, sleeves cut off to display his tattooed arms and black sweats that hung just right on his hips complete with a pair of black converse on his feet.  For a second you wondered how he wasn’t shivering.  You could only hope that he wouldn’t notice your drooling,  praying that the dim lighting would cast enough shadows over your face that any fondness you were displaying would be hidden.

“Y-yeah.”  He swallows, fingers tangling in a few of his curls before resting back at his side, keys dangling in his other hand.

“Kitchen.”  You mumble, pointing.

He nods, the silence taunting you both as you trail behind him into the kitchen.  Will is already staring wide eyed as you enter, looking between you with something amusing behind his expression.  And in that moment the awkwardness melts off of Eddie, his usual cocky self returning.

“Dice?  Controller?  Man, I told you I was gonna come by–”

“I forgot but I have both–”

“Oh, you forgot?”  A mischievous grin overtakes Eddie’s face, Will playing along with it as they both brace their palms flat against the kitchen island, staring at each other instantly but with playful intention.

“Ed, don’t do this.”  Will warns, unable to maintain a serious face, corners of his lips pulling despite his best efforts.

“Oh, I have to.”

Eddie fakes him out, body about to move to the right but instead quickly changing to the left to which Will screeches in mock fear, rushing to the other end of the kitchen.  Any time Will goes to make a move, Eddie is seconds quicker than him.  When Will tries to make his big escape he’s instantly caught in a chokehold, the metalhead’s arm secured around him as he ruffles his hair with a fist, the classic noogie.  Will’s laughter is contagious, a few ‘stops’ littered throughout and you can’t help but join and giggle as you watch the scene play out before you.

“Dice?”  Eddie halts his movements to ask, side eyeing the boy.

“On the desk–in–in my room.”  He answers out of breath, clutching onto Eddie’s forearm.

Eddie continues his torture on Will, rough housing a little more before stopping once again.

“Controller?”

“Coffee table!  Are we done?!”

“Nope.”  A full on wrestling match takes place in the small confines of the kitchen, both boys stumbling around and bumping into cabinets.

It was weird.  You knew Eddie and Will were pretty close but you’d never seen them like this and maybe it's because you refused to linger in a room long enough if Eddie was there.  Now you didn’t really have the urge to leave.  All you could do was watch.  Eddie’s dramatics flared as he cackled in Will’s face, Will telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ between gasps for air.

“Tap out.”  Eddie demands.

“No!”

“Tap.  Out.”

At some point you hadn’t even paid attention to the way Will hesitated in surrendering, you were too caught up in the way Eddie’s already cropped shirt rode up in the position he was in, his waist looking all too enticing, lower back on full display however you refrained from trailing your eyes up his spine.

Stop it.

“Okay, I tap out!”  Will smacks his hand against Eddie’s forearm that was secured around him, instantly granted relief after saying the magic words.

“Eddie The Banished reigns supreme.”  He pumps his fist in the air in triumph, face scrunched in victory.

You roll your eyes but in all honesty, it’s not out of pure annoyance just this once.  It feels more like when a friend does something stupid and all you can feel is warmth flush through your body and your initial reaction comes naturally.  Effortlessly.

“Okay, now get your precious things and go.”  Will points at the door, sass overtaking every movement, the playful energy still buzzing between them.

A pang in your heart says don’t go.  But you remain quiet as a mouse in the corner between the sink and the microwave.  You don’t mean that.  You try to bargain with yourself.  Seeing him in this light does not excuse his past no matter how much of an ache you feel in your chest.  The good kind.  

“Okay, okay.”  Eddie sighs, catching his breath, a grin still stretched across his face.  “Hey, what the fuck happened here?”  He stops in his tracks, gesturing to the atrocity that has become every surface of the kitchen.  Batter and dough of all kinds smeared along the countertops, eggshells discarded along with balled up foil on Will’s side of the mess, and of course the towering bowls just about ready to tumble out of the sink, filled with suds, wooden spoons and whisks.  And of course the bag of chocolate chips that had spilled, sprinkled across the surface, some even dismissed on the floor, there was even some kind of dough caked onto the handle of the fridge.

“We’re having a bake sale.”  You break your prolonged silence from the corner, mouth upturned in almost a smirk but not quite, it’s more like you’re holding in a laugh.  At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s head snaps in your direction, molten chocolate eyes landing on you in such a way that has your breath hitching.

“A bake sale?”  He questions, doubt written across his handsome features, his tone hinting at the fact that he knows you’re bullshitting him.

“Mhm.”

“Aren’t you like–aren’t you bad at baking?”  

How does he know that?  

Will’s eyes widen and he sucks in the most subtle breath.  That’s how.

“Can’t I be bad at something but also still try?”  You argue.

“I dunno, can you?”  It’s almost mean, almost.  But it doesn’t feel the same as when he’s usually ridiculing you.  The dimple peeking out at you provides evidence of an opposite intention.  He’s teasing but not to be a dick, unless you were reading him wrong.  And there was very little chance that you were since the past few weeks at work, he had almost left you alone all together save for a few questions here and there and maybe a few bad jokes.  But other than that he was solely a coworker who you held no personal ties to.

“Well that’s how you learn.  You keep trying until you get it.  So far nothing has burned and the batter tastes good–try it.”  You don’t know what you’re trying to prove but your body had already been on autopilot, it’s sole mission to keep him from leaving.  A wooden spoon coated in red velvet cake batter is offered to him, you twirling it to keep it from dripping everywhere.  Eddie glances from you to the spoon a few times rather quickly, almost as if he’s waiting for you to psych him out and tell him to go to hell.  In a way he wishes you would just so he knows he isn’t dreaming.  He makes his way around the island, standing next to you, not too close but just close enough that he can steal the spoon from you, his tongue licking up the back of it.  The sight is strangely erotic.

“Not bad.”  He hums, continuing until the spoon is halfway clean.  You want to mention that he’ll risk getting sick from eating too much, raw eggs aren’t exactly ideal to eat even if disguised as a delicious batter, but that would show that you care.  Which you don’t.

“What am I missing?”  Will addresses the elephant in the room, containing a smile that might be too big for his face if he were to let it take over.

“What?”  You ask, head tilted in a way that has Eddie’s eyes lingering for a moment before turning his head and copying your actions, tongue still committed to the spoon, licking up every ounce of sweetness.

“Are we–did we–end up in a parallel universe?  Why aren’t you threatening to kick his ass?”  He points an accusatory finger at you.  “And why aren’t you making snarky comments?”  He points to Eddie who is still too busy licking any remnants of the mixture.

All you can offer is a casual shrug before snatching the utensil right from Eddie’s hand, tossing it into the overflowing sink.  “I’ll kick your ass if you were even going to think about double dipping that spoon in my bowl.”  You warn, a touch mean.  “There, are you happy?”  You look to Will for approval, skepticism still painted all over his face, his arms crossed in uncertainty.

“I wasn’t done.”  Eddie frowns, ignoring your threat to instead dip a daring finger into the bowl of artificial red.

“Hey!”  Both you and Will begin to reprimand him.

“Just one more–”  He doesn’t finish his thought as you grab the bowl, holding it behind your back.

“Say I’m good at baking.  Both of you.”

Eddie and Will look to each other in perplexity.  Will can’t comprehend the sudden playfulness you have for both him and Eddie.  Usually this would end up in an argument, one saying something a bit too offensive for the other’s taste and from there it would spiral.  Instead neither party is engaged in conflict but rather play and it’s not unwelcome, just…weird.

“Excuse you?”  Eddie takes the bait.

“The two of you seem to talk trash about my baking skills behind my back but I didn’t see you complaining two seconds ago while you salivated all over the spoon.”

You only receive a scoff in response, Eddie crossing his arms as if to appear more intimidating.  He only looks more like a misunderstood teddy bear.

“Say it.”

“Anyone can make cake out of a box.”  He retaliates, Will releasing a small gasp as he hides his smile under his hand.

“Oh, okay.  I’d love to see you out of all people bake a cake.”  You challenge him.

“This is more like it.”  Will mumbles, though he knows this is not at all the usual bickering that happens between you.

“Oh, you want me to out-Betty Crocker you?”  Eddie threatens.

“You can try.”  You shrug, setting your bowl back onto the counter.

“No, no.  I will.”

“Guys it’s literally cake from a box.”  Will intervenes.

And so started the greatest bake off the Byers’ kitchen has ever seen.  

–

“Okay, wait.  I have a grievance with this competition.”  Eddie speaks up, abandoning an uncracked egg on the countertop only for it to roll off and crack at his feet.  “Damn.”

“What’s the matter now?”  Will asks in mock annoyance.  Every other minute Eddie had a near microscopic complaint but it only entertained you.  Curses at wrong measurements, that his bowl wasn’t as pretty as the others, or that he wanted the whisk Will was using.

“Why don’t I get matching pants?”

You glance down at your Halloween themed pajama pants and then to Will’s.  They were a steal at Target and you couldn’t resist, knowing Will would love them as much as you did.  That, and every year you bought a matching pair for both fall and christmas.  You can’t help but feel a huge smile pull at your lips, the sight of Eddie pouting with his hands on his hips is all too endearing.

“For one, you weren’t even invited to this sleepover.”  You sass, pouring your newly mixed chocolate cake batter into its pan.  “And two, this is our thing.”  You gesture between you and Will standing a few feet next to you, Eddie directly across the island sporting an even bigger frown.

“Yeah, you kinda crashed our party.”  Will adds, snickering with you.

“Wow.  I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that and instead you pledged your undying loyalty to me.”  Always a drama queen.  “Whoa–wait, wait!  How are you already done I haven’t even–”  He quickly realizes you’re already setting your masterpiece in the oven while his bowl still contains both dry and wet ingredients, unmixed.

“Guess we can already tell who’s gonna ‘out-Betty Crocker’ who.”  You smirk.

“Oh, hell no.”  He mutters under his breath, suddenly focused on mixing.

While Eddie just about buries his head in the bowl, Will graces you with a look.  A knowing look.  You claim innocence with a lift of your brow but you both know.  You’re just too ignorant right now to acknowledge it.

–

Seeing Eddie Munson dancing and screaming to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift was something you could never even fathom and yet here he was.  Unapologetically singing every word and putting on one giant show with Will, singing into random kitchen utensils while the speaker blared the song.  He knew every word.  You didn’t dare interrupt the choreography they had come up with on the spot, watching from your comfortable perch on the stool at the counter.  

Will sounded like a dying animal and it occasionally had you reaching up to cover your ears but your smile never faltered.  And Eddie was unstoppable.  He didn’t sound that bad though he was shouting along with Will at the top of his lungs so you figure if he actually tried he would sound angelic.  Once the song reaches the bridge you can’t help but drown in your own laughter, both of them strutting in between where the living room meets the kitchen as if it were their own personal runway.

Your eyes open, nearly crying only to find Eddie just feet away extending his ‘microphone’ to you with a raised brow and a cocky grin.  Your immediate reaction is to shake your head, your nerves instantly on edge at the mere idea of holding any kind of attention.

“C’mon, you’re gonna miss the bridge again!”  Eddie waves you over in a rush.  You don’t budge, a flash of worry washing over you and it seems that it was written all over your face.  “C’mon Roadkill, don’t make us finish off without ya.”  He half jokes, Will still screeching like a banshee behind him.  “Do it for little Byers.”  He cocks his head toward the boy, pleading eyes begging you to change your mind.

Slowly, you emerge from your comfy perch, snatching up your own ‘microphone’ with a bashful gleam in your eyes.  Just in time for the bridge again, you strut toward Will who excitedly starts jumping and nodding at your participation. 

“I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you!”  You yell in each other’s faces, wheezing as you continue dancing–if you could even call it dancing.  Your confidence skyrocketed.  Turning toward Eddie, you sing to each other the last line of the bridge.

“And I screamed for whatever it’s worth, I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard!”

Chests heaving and mouths hung open, his eyes swallow you whole, dark honey slowly pulling you under.  Your first instinct is that you should run but he feels too much like home to ever willingly leave.  If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right to stare into pools of deep amber?

~end~

Author's Note: okay if you're reading this TY SO MUCH. The scene where reader is kinda admiring eddie at work, i had 1 step forward 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo playing along with it for me and rather than something super sad, it's kind of the opposite in this case as theyre coming out of their angsty era so if you just listen to that and imagine her admiring him with a little content smile on his face as he works it makes me want to SCREAM lmk if it does the same for you ok BYE <3

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Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @hideoutside @hellfirefiend @emilyslutface @rustboxstarr @3rd-conchord @eddiessteady @lightcommastix @kittydeadbones @shadows-echoes @str4ngerthingsslut @winchester-angel @elegantkoalapaper

[jtl-fics]

HELP NOT THE “DOES HE GET ONE FREE HIT A YEAR” & “CAN HE PUSH A HYGIENE INITIATIVE” PLS IM ABSOLUTELY WHEEZING POOR FF IS GOING THROUGH IT AHDHDJJSHSHS

loved this part (as i always do) lmaoo poor ff my man is truly really going through it omg. i loved the kevins pov at the start hahdjdjdjbd getting a true glimpse into his truly 1 way exy street mind hehjahhqhe but it was kinda so sweet about him thinking about his relationship with neil

nicky is the best friend we all need omg

gs absolute legend <3 shes so sweet pls omg i love her so so much just her reassuring ff <3 ff sweetie u dont need to accept the job :( u dont need to do anything, uve done great already <3 but the bit w wymack at the end was HILARIOUS from gs looking and realising its just him and continues in english, to him being BAFFLED BY THEIR CONVERSATION LMAOOO anyway hope u have a wonderful day ily <3

Lol catch me writing a follow-up series where FF ends up (through a series of goofy events obviously) deciding to work for Ichirou. Ichirou has pushed that this guy is actually a great asset and has the cut throat personality needed to the 'elders' of the family he hasn't managed to purge out of power quite yet.

Except it's FF and he's quite obviously NOT a cutthroat guy at all. Like he walks in on someone cleaning up a body and just goat faints again.

Ichirou can't backtrack so now it's Ichirou spinning everything FF does in a sinister light. Hygiene initiative? Cleaning up more effectively at crime scenes. Dental Insurance? Harder for there to be anyone with a distinctive bite pattern. A fixed income for all full time thugs? Keeps anyone from gaining too much power and stops over-enthusiastic rookies.

Slowly but surely Ichirou gets the highly efficient family he wants all while FF is just like "Ok I actually got another job offer can I use u as a reference??"

I love FF and Nicky's friendship. So much. I didn't expect to become so attached to it but I AM.

I am super thankful for Kevin since he helped me set the stage for writing the chapter. I kept starting with Neil and Andrew coming in and then decided to start somewhere else.

Wymack suffers but also he has accepted his lot.

[kodydrs]

you want some - porco galliard

a/n: I LIVE!! ok. Attack on titan has my heart, and I literally wrote this when I was about 14 and saw Galliard in the manga, but this is the like, new and improved version. in this, all the scouts are spiders, and idk why. but i head-canon that eren would have spitting spider like abilities, and levi would be a camel spider bc they’re known the cut through their prey. i hope everyone has a nice day and why not reply / reblog, or send in an ask or request.

warnings: venom!porco x spider!reader, porco x fem!reader, reader has invisibility powers, and her mask consists of his pupils disappearing, spiderinamn au, kirstein!reader, have a nice day, not proofread. I am drunk and high when i write this

request: yes / no

ib: none

‘You find anything?’ Jean asked, dangling from his web. You swung between the buildings, sticking to one to reply.

‘Nothing useful. There’s just a bunch of old debris from that attack years ago. Still no life or anything.’ You could hear your brother grumble, the noise muffled by his mask, but the annoyance still filtering through.

‘I could’ve sworn this was the way Zeke went. Damnit.’ You stood in silence as he argued with himself.

‘Oi. There’s no point getting worked up. Just keep searching. I’ll go check Liberio , then meet you back here in 30 minutes.’

‘Yeah whatever.’ You rolled your eyes. If Jean was good at anything, it was complaining. He watched as you slowly blended into the environment, making the most of your chameleon-like ability.

‘You need to stop acting like such a baby.’

‘Like you can talk.’ When there was no reply, Jean realised you’d already taken your leave. ‘Stupid.’

‘Have you seen anything?’ Armin asked through a small earpiece.

‘Not yet. But I doubt anything is here. It looks so deserted.’

‘Sounds just like your territory.’ Jean teased from his own position. ‘Do a ground search. There’s only so much we can see from the air.’

Usually you’d ignore his ideas, but this one wasn’t bad. Detaching your web, you lowered yourself to the ground, careful not to get caught in the torn up main street. You were right in your assumption. The place was completely deserted, mind a few pests here and there. The only noise was the soft buzz of a store light.

‘Hey Armin. What’s this place’s yearly power use?’ There was a loud crackling noise from the earpiece, followed by silence. ‘Armin? Jean? Either of you there.’ Again, nothing but crackling. ‘Shit. I lost reception.’

You did a scan of the remains of buildings lining the main street, and shot a web towards an only stone one.

Most of the buildings were in a rough state, very few having windows, and even fewer having all 4 walls intact. One thing that did stick out though was that random buildings had lights on, illuminating the street.

‘Why would there be lights on in an abandoned city?’ You thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by a high frequency from the mic.

‘Y/n!’ Armin suddenly shouted.

‘Hey! Why’d you have to shou-‘

‘You need to get out of there right now! Something big is-‘

The mic cut out before he could finish.

‘Hello. Armin. Come in. Something big is what?’ With no reply, you lifted yourself to the top of a building, trying to reconnect. ‘Armin? Hello?!’ With no reply, which meant no signal, you were practically alone. Well, you thought.

The dumpster thrown at you gave him away.

Narrowly dodging the flying rubbish container, you looked in its direction. Nothing. Only the empty alleyway.

‘I know you’re there!’ You shout, hiding in your surroundings. ‘Otherwise, I wasn’t aware Shiga had flying objects.’ When there was no reply, you frowned. Crawling to the edge of the building, you looked down, finding nothing. ‘Damnit.’

As you go to stand, your earpiece crackles once more. ‘-ehind yo-‘ Armin howled before you’re suddenly pushed into the concrete.

‘Shit.’ You think, trying your best to get up, only to have your arms pinned down by a gooey black substance.

‘Don’t even try.’ A raspy voice above you whispers. ‘Nothing gets out of this. Not even spiders.’ You felt a hand grip your head, turning it to look up, and you came face to face with 2 large white eyes, surrounded by the same stuff as what had you trapped.

‘What are you?’ You stammer, trying to keep your confidence. It laughs. An evil laugh.

‘We are Venom.’

‘We? Th-There’s more of you.’

‘Relax.’ This time, the voice is different. Instead of deep and raspy, the creature had a softer voice, with a more comfortable tone. ‘There’s only 2 of us. And I'm a human, just like you.’

You watched as the goo melted away, revealing the face of a man. A man with a strong jaw, but soft eyes. An undeniable attractive face, but you couldn’t say that, even if you wanted to. This guy had been decided as a villain the minute you were attacked. You watched as he stepped out of ‘Venom’, coming closer to you. As well as an attractive face, he was also quite tall. Or, taller than you at least.

‘So, what’s a pretty lady like yourself doing in my home?’ He asked. You still frowning, moving to attack him, but being restrained by Venom. ‘Come on. It’s an easy question. You can’t have wanted anything valuable. There’s nothing here.’

‘Who are you?’ If you couldn’t escape, you’d get as much info as you could before someone else arrived.

‘Who am I? Well, I’m glad you asked. Porco Galliard. And you’ve met Venom.’

‘Unwillingly, but… yes.’ Venom didn’t seem to talk your comment so nicely, pulling your arms in opposite directions. It felt like the symbiote was trying to tear you in half. ‘Ah shit.’

‘Hey. Venom. Quit it.’ Porco said, turning to him.

‘Oh please. Let me tear the spider apart. What’s the point in having her around? Her friends will be here soon.’

‘I’m aware of that, but it doesn’t matter. God. You have terrible people skills.’ If Venom had pupils, you guessed he probably would’ve rolled them. ‘In fact, let her go. What kind of person holds a guest down like that?’ You sighed when the squeeze on your body subsided, and you were able to stand. For a second, you thought about going camo again, but if they’d caught you the first time, what was stopping them from catching you again.

‘Don’t try.’ Porco interrupted your train of thought.

‘What?’

‘You’ve seen him now. He’ll find you.’

You stare at the symbiote for a moment, then move to the blonde's eyes. You felt sympathetic for them both. They were stuck in this shitty city. You were only a visitor. Or, a hostage depending on how you looked at it.

‘So what am I meant to do? Wait here for the rest of my life?’ You ask, tightening the grip on your fists.

‘Well that’s an option-‘

‘No, its not!’ Venom cut in. ‘She’s seen me. I get to eat her now. That was the deal.’

‘No. That’s with bad guys. She isn’t a bad guy.’

‘She’s a spider!’

As the 2 argued, Jean’s voice finally reached a signal.

‘2 minutes. I’m nearly in Liberio now.’

‘Please hurry.’ You whisper.

‘What?’

Looking back at the 2 in front of you, you find 4 narrowed eyes.

‘Oh come on. Look, you’ve scared her now. This is why you need better social skills.’

Opting to not come between the 2 bickering, you shot a web at the next closest building, dragging yourself back. You heard a faint ‘hey’ followed by the sound of walls being grasped, but you don’t look back to see what it is exactly. You had a pretty sure idea, and looking back would slow you down. For now, all you had to focus on was getting out of Liberio. And seeing your brother in the distance was your first sign of luck.

‘I’m perfectly fine, Hange.’ You informed, phone being held to your ear by your shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t even count it as an attack. The guys just wanted to talk.’

Hange Zoe is the Captain of the current Spider-People. It wouldn’t exactly be called an organisation, but they’d found that recent, there was more Spiders than ever. Why exactly, they didn’t know. But regardless, Hange wanted to make sure there was a place for them.

‘Even if you think you’re perfectly fine, you may not be. Come around so we can get someone to check. I don’t care who, as long as it isn’t you or Jean. Preferably, I’d like Armin to check.’

‘I’m not getting anybody to check.’ You argued, storming around your kitchen. ‘If I was dying right now, then I’d be… well… dying.’

You could hear Hange sigh on the other end of the call.

‘Spider’s aren’t invincible, my dear. You of all people should know that-‘

‘And I do! I just…’ Now it was your turn to sigh, dropping your mug and holding your phone properly. ‘I’m fine, Hange. I’ll get Armin to check over me tomorrow. I’m just tired is all.’

The line went silent, the only indication they hadn’t hung up being that the call was still active.

‘First thing tomorrow, get Armin to do a check over. Get some sleep. We’ll take tomorrow.’

They hung up and you stared at the screen for a moment.

All spiders had a canon event of some sort. You could barely call yours recent, and it happened to a lot of spiders at the same time, but a large-scale earthquake in your home town 8 years ago, and watching a 50 metre building come down on your parents did the trick. Did the trick for you and your brother.

You wipe your hands over your face and groan. It’d been a long day.

The pizza that’s been sitting in your fridge for almost a week was practically screaming at you the minute you opened the door. You chucked it on the counter and thought about heating it up for about a second, deciding cold pizza is superior.

‘So you have (eye/colour) eyes?’

You’re blending into the wall and shooting webs before you actually see who the person is.

‘How on earth did you-‘

‘We followed you.’ Venom admits, coming awfully close to your face. ‘We figured it’d be easier to eat you when you’re alone.’

‘He figured that.’ Porco adds. ‘But yes. We followed you.’

You’re clinging to a cupboard door, looking around for ways to get to your apartment door when your phone starts ringing.

‘Shit. Jean.’ You mentally curse.

‘Venom. Back up. Let her answer it.’

You stare at Porco, slowly revealing yourself, and he laughs at the way you’re gripping the cupboard. But he nods towards the phone, mouthing a “pick it up”.

With shaking hands, you take your phone and bring it to your ear.

‘Hey.’ You say.

‘Hey. Hange just texted saying you refused to do a check up. Are you all goods?’

‘Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just tired and a little shaken after today.’ As you’re speaking, you don’t take your eyes off the blonde standing in your apartment, seeing him smirk but obviously listen to your call.

‘Do you want me to come around?’ Porco’s grin melts away instantly, and he shakes his head. The decision was really up to you.

You could’ve said yes. You could’ve gotten your brother to come to your apartment, and both Porco & Venom may have left straight away, but something in you does the opposite.

‘No. But thank you. I’m probably going to have dinner then go to sleep. I’m going to see Armin tomorrow for a check up anyway.’

‘You sure? Ok then. Make sure to look after yourself, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.’

‘Yep. Tell Marco I say hi.’ You ended the call, and watched Porco’s look of surprise as you climbed down from the shelves. ‘You happy?’

Neither he nor Venom speak, and you think for a moment that you’re imagining them there. Until you shoot a web at him to make sure and it sticks to his face, sending him into a fit of trying to get it off.

‘Ok, you are actually here.’

‘Of course, I’m actually here.’ He whines, shaking the webs off him. If he hadn’t broken into your apartment. you might’ve laughed at him, but the circumstances were different. With a bit of your fear dispersing after his reaction, you go back to your pizza, taking a slice of it.

‘You want some?’ You ask, mouth half full. Venom frantically nods, and you smile a little bit. ‘Pizza fan?’

‘He’s a fan of anything with meat on it.’ Porco informs, getting the last of the web away. ‘Just throw it and he’ll grab it.’

You do as told and watch as Venom contorts to catch the food. Your smile stays, and you offer Galliard a piece, but he declines.

‘So why did you follow me?’ You ask casually.

Porco seems to freeze, trying to think of an excuse but Venom chimes in.

‘He thought you were hot. And he never gets any girls in Liberio.’

‘That’s only because there’s no one in Liberio!’

You’re slightly taken back by the confession, but you burst into a fit of laughs. ‘Hey. What’s so funny?’

‘You followed me this far just because of that?’

‘W-Well, like I said, we never get any girls in Liberio, so I think it’s justified.’

You nearly took yourself out laughing so hard. Tears were in your eyes as you fell onto your kitchen floor, clutching your stomach for life. Porco just glared down at you, a dark red tint on his face.

‘I could kill you right now and you’re laughing at me!’

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just too funny.’ You apologise, attempting to stand but falling into another fit of laughter.

Venom grinned at Porco, and Porco just flipped him off.

When you calmed down, you breathed deeply, too exhausted to stand up.

‘Jokes aside, that is really sweet, I guess.’ You pat the spot next to you, and Porco hesitates but takes it. ‘If you hadn’t tried to kill me, that is.’

‘I wouldn’t call it trying to kill you.’ He reasons. ‘More like-‘

‘A shit attempt at flirting.’

‘Will you fuck off?!’

Venom melts into the blond’s back, and it disgusts you at first, but then realise that it could be worse.

A blanket of silence covers the kitchen, you both just staring into space when there’s a knock at your door.

‘Shit.’ You curse, jumping to your feet to answer. ‘Armin?’

‘Y-Yeah. Jean told me you needed a check-in after that thing attacked you.’

‘Yeah, but I was gonna do it tomorrow…’ You only realise then that that thing was sitting in your kitchen. ‘If that’s alright.’

‘It’s probably better to do now, if you don’t mind. I promise it’ll be quick. I just need to do a blood test, then check for any visible wounds or bruises.’

‘Uh. Yep.’ The ‘p’ is stretched out as you open the door, allowing your friend to come in. The minute he’s in, you basically sprint around to check your kitchen. It’s empty.

‘Everything ok, Y/n? You seem on edge.’ Armin asks, sitting up a blood bag.

‘Yeah. Yep. Just fine.’ You answer, rubbing your face again. ‘Do you want some pizza?’

‘As you all know, the festival goes from the main street to the subway. Your job today is to stay on the lookout for anything dodgy, or anything that could harm the mayor and her wife.’ Levi told, looking over the spiders standing in front of him. ‘You are not to engage unless you are certain they are in danger. If you are certain, then you are to report immediately, and keep casualties to a minimum. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

The festival was to celebrate 10 years since the earthquake, and to commemorate those that didn’t make it. The mayor, Historia Reiss, and her wife, Ymir Reiss would give a speech, showing respect for each victim, before travelling around the city to orphanages were children whose parents died were welcomed. Unknown to the public, Ymir Reiss was in fact a Spider, which meant that on days such as the festival, it wasn’t hard for the couple to get that extra bit of protection..

‘How are we meant to know if something is the right level of dodgy?’ Connie asked over the comms-device. ‘I mean, some of us might think that people surrounding the place in pairs is dodgy. We probably look like a damn cult.’

‘Just anything out of the ordinary, I guess.’ Jean replied. ‘Although, a bald guy and a chick stuffing her face is pretty peculiar.’

You all heard Connie send a string of curses are your brother, but you just laughed under your breath.

The event was generally pretty safe. Everyone lost someone, some more than others, so everyone was more of less on the same page about the festival.

‘How did you 2 get stuck together?’ Eren asked, looking at the duo through the crowd. ‘And how come I got stuck with Horseface? Why am I even a pair?’

‘Just focus on the mission, please.’ With Levi’s command, the comms fell quiet.

The day was nearly over, and so far nothing bad had happened. The odd protester here and there, but police were able to deal with them without you needing to step in.

‘All good on my end.’ You checked in. Everyone else replied in the same state. ‘Pretty good year if you ask me.’

‘Nah. Some drunk asked how one of Santa’s elves escaped’ Connie screamed. ‘And then he had the audacity to start singing carols to try lure me in.’

‘Suck it up, Connie.’ You could practically hear Connie fighting the urge to reply, but fighting the Captain seemed to weigh out that option.

‘Hey guys. I got something down the end of the main street.’ Armin reported. ‘I think it’s dormant for now, but I might need someone down there soon.’

‘I’ve got it.’ You replied, slowly pushing your way through the crowd. ‘Can you tell me what it is exactly?’

‘It’s like a black goo.’

You stopped in your tracks, frowning.

‘Come again?’

‘A black goo?’

‘I’ve got a visual.’ Eren added. ‘Definitely ain’t dormant.’

‘Do you need back up?’

‘I might in a minute.’ Without further discussion, Eren decided this was dodgy enough to engage, throwing his mask on and swinging into action.

The minute he moved, the symbiote threw himself off the building, shattering the windows as he propelled towards the spider. Eren grunted when he came into contact, goo covering his arms and immobilising him.

‘Shit.’ He cursed, doing his best to try escape.

‘Surely I can eat this one.’ Venom hissed, inching his face closer towards Eren. ‘There’s plenty of spiders around.’

‘Fuck off.’ The brunette cursed. He tried to shoot a web, only for it to be absorbed into Venom’s body.

‘Come on. I can get it over and done with quickly.’ Venom’s mouth was surrounding his head when it suddenly began choking, grabbing at its neck. Eren took the opportunity, spitting acid into the goo. This time, it melted away and he was able to pull a hand free. Free enough that he was able to latch onto another building and pull himself out of the symbiote.

‘Thanks, Y/n.’ You stayed clinging to Venom, arms wrapped around where she knew Galliard was inside of him.

‘H-Hey. Time out.’ The blonde shouted, voice muffled. You loosened your grip, still holding them both.

‘Get the fuck out of here before we kill you.’ You whispered. Venom grunted, but you suspected it may have been Porco instead. As you went to pull your arms away, the organism wrapped around your arms, pulling you into it.

‘I’m gonna need backup.’ You said over your air piece before Venom ripped it out of your ear.

‘You can eat this one, Venom.’ Porco smirked. You winced, feeling the symbiote’s teeth curl around your arm. Just as you thought it was about to bite your arms off, a blinding light cut through his body, eliciting a deafen screech from Venom.

‘You brat.’ Levi degraded as he swung past, cutting through Venom again. You felt as it pulled you away, keeping a hold until it dropped into an empty street.

Venom unravelled, leaving Galliard standing there.

‘Long time, no see-‘

‘Get out of here.’ You hiss, urging him away. ‘If Levi catches you, you’re dead.’

Whether he believed you or not, he sprinted off, disappearing as the other spiders came down the street.

‘Where did it go?’ Jean asked, obviously ready to kill the thing that attack his sister.

‘I’m not sure, sorry.’ You say, hands on hips and out of breath. ‘It dropped me and disappeared. I didn’t see where.’

‘I’ll go find-‘

‘Leave it for now.’ Hange decided. ‘It seemed to have no intention of harming anyone other than us. And we have no idea what it is, so until then, we keep on looking out for it. Return to post until Historia and Ymir are done, then return to base.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

Your apartment was quiet when you got home. Lights were off apart from the one in the kitchen.

‘Please say you chucked the pizza- what are you doing?’ You said, acknowledging the blonde sitting on your kitchen floor.

‘I’m having withdrawals.’ He whined. taking another swig of his can. You just laughed.

‘Too fucking close today.��

‘It wasn’t even. You were perfectly fine, and it wasn’t like he was actually going to bite your arm off.’

‘I thought about it.’ Venom said.

‘Yeah well. Get the fuck out of my body.’ You replied, walking over to the other imposter. Porco took your hand and (with great discomfort), Venom transferred back to his normal host's body.

‘That’s better.’ Porco sang, suddenly brought to life. You shook your head with a smile, opening the oven to see he had in fact chucked the pizza in to heat it up.

‘Are you staying the night?’

‘Well, it’s probably easier than trying to get back to Liberio right now.’ Porco stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist gently and resting his head on your shoulders. ‘The lights finally gave out.’

‘They’ve shut it down?’

‘Mhm.’

‘So where are you going to stay now?’ You place your hands over his, stroking the back of his palm. The man sighed, breathing hot air against your neck.

‘No clue. I’m sure there’ll be somewhere in Liberio that still has power.’

There was a moment of silence between you two, and you leaned back against his shoulder. No one lived in Liberio but them. You knew because you’d been lying to Hange about it in order to keep that small amount of power going there. But they must’ve done a scan themselves and seen no one.

‘You could move in with me?’ The suggestion seemed like some wild thing. Something that hadn’t even crossed Porco’s mind. ‘Then you wouldn’t have to put in as much effort to get stuff, or to come see me.’

The arms around your waist tightened, and you felt a smile press to your lips.

‘We wouldn’t annoy you?’

‘Porco. We’ve been together for 2 years. If you annoyed me enough, you would’ve already.’ You spun in his arms to face him, hands finding his jaw. ‘And Venom can sleep in a dog box.’

‘I am not sleeping in a box!’ The symbiote shouted, enraged by the idea. ‘Let me actually bite her arm off!’

You laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to your partner's lips before reaching for the pizza.

‘Venom. You want some?’

[ikeromantic]

CinderAlice pt. 1

The winner of the IkeRev 1K AU story poll was Cinderella! Featuring the Black Army guys and Alice as Cinderella. Pt. 1/4

Alice felt a trembling excitement in her heart. Her eyes scanned the royal decree nailed to the lamppost just beyond the gates of her home. There would be a ball at the palace and all the citizens of Cradle were invited. That meant even her, she thought, and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on her cheeks.

“You look happy.” 

The unexpected words surprised her and Alice gave a little jump. Turning, she saw Luka. He was just back from his early morning delivery run. A light sheen of sweat graced his brow and his patched work clothes were dusty. His gentle expression was turned to an apologetic frown.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He looked away, his bright amber gaze skittering over the mostly empty street. “I thought you heard my come up.”

Alice always felt a little self-conscious around Luka. He was sweet but shy, and very pretty. He also worked hard - harder than almost anyone she knew. “It’s ok. I was spacing out. It’s just - did you see this?”

Luka nodded. “I saw Sir Godspeed putting them up around town.” He looked back at her, his gaze unexpectedly intense. “Are you going to go?”

“I -” Alice paused. The idea of a royal ball was wonderful. Beautiful people and clothes and good food, music and dancing. But that was for people with money and power, like her step-sisters. They would have pretty dresses and jewelry to wear. But Alice had just her work clothes, and a locket with a picture of her mother and father. “I wish.” She laughed it off and waved a hand toward the poster. “I don’t think parties like that are for me. I don’t even know what I would wear!”

Luka studied her expression. “So you would go if you had a nice dress?”

“Sure, I guess.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I have to get back inside before my stepmom notices how long it’s taking to put out the trash.” Alice took a step back toward the house. “It was good seeing you, Luka!”

He gave her a wave, his face solemn. “I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Yeah,” she grinned and headed back inside. Once home, all her good feelings faded quickly. There was tea to put on and breakfast to make for her step-sisters and step-mother. Then she had to slip upstairs while they ate to clean their rooms and make their beds and gather the day’s washing. 

On her way back downstairs, she could hear them chatting about the royal ball. Of course they’d heard about it by now. Anastasia, the eldest of the two, was already certain she would capture the eye of Prince Ray, while Drizella was of the opinion that this would be the perfect time to get close to Sir Godspeed, protector and friend to the prince. 

Alice sighed. She didn’t imagine either of them would be capturing anyone’s hearts. They were both too sharp and bitter, always ready with a cruel observation or a cutting remark. But they would get to go and probably have a great time while she would be stuck here at home, dreaming. 

“What are you sighing about, girl? Feeling sorry for yourself?” Lady Tremaine’s sharp voice brought Alice back to the immediate present. 

“N-no, my lady! I was only - that is, I was thinking - how nice it would be to get to go to the royal ball.” Alice swallowed, nervous. There was no choice but to be honest when the Lady asked a question.

Her step-mother frowned, the expression natural to her severe, gaunt face. “Really? I wouldn’t think you would be interested. But if you like, you can go of course. I won’t stop you. First, you’ll need to complete all your chores. I won’t have the house a mess because of your daydreaming.”

“Thank you, my lady!” Alice felt the first faint glow of hope, and a small smile crept to her lips. 

“And you’ll need to figure out what to wear. There isn’t money or time to get you a new gown, so you’ll have to make do.” Lady Tremaine gave her a cold smile bereft of any affection. “If you go dressed like that, it will only embarrass you.”

Alice nodded mutely and stood aside as her step-mother passed her in the hall. She wondered at moments like this what her father had loved in this woman. She couldn’t imagine it. But she could imagine the ways she might get a dress, even with no money. 

The rest of the day’s chores sped past, even with Druzilla and Anastasia adding more mess to the usual work load. Alice was in such a good mood, even their teasing couldn’t bring her down. By mid-afternoon, she was done with pretty much everything but dinner service and the Lady’s bath arrangements, but that left her plenty of time to run into town for her own little errand. 

She set off for the Central Quarter to make some trades for her dress. There was only about a week to the royal ball, which wasn’t much time. Alice stopped at a tailor’s shop and went around to the servant’s entrance in the back. She knew the workers here, and they liked her. She had helped them out a time or two with hem repairs and other stitchery - so when she asked for odds and ends, whatever scraps they had, they were happy to help.

Alice left there with a bag of fine cloth, enough for what she had in mind. Her next stop was a little rundown antique shop. Full of old items, many worn out or broken, and some that she wasn’t even sure what they were for. They knew Alice from when her father was alive, and were once frequent guests at the manor. Though the Lady Tremaine no longer welcomed them, they had a soft spot for Alice.

She explained what she needed, and came away with a whole jar of buttons, lace bits, and other odds and ends. Just the sort of pretty notions a fancy dress would need. Or, they would be once she shined them up a bit. 

Alice was turning the jar slowly as she walked, admiring all the pretty little things inside. But she wasn’t watching where she was going. One moment, she was moving forward, and the next, she was nose first, pressed against a broad, warm chest. Fine fabric, brass buttons, a sword at the hip, and a pair of polished boots. Her mind took inventory as she scrambled back, already apologizing.

The man in front of her was tall, with large, violet eyes and a soft, wise smile. “Don’t look so worried, little lady. You didn’t do me any damage.” He bent down to look at her more closely. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes?” He was very handsome, she realized, and also definitely not a commoner or even a merchant. “I’m really really sorry I bumped into you.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either.” He grinned and straightened. “In fact, it’s probably mostly my fault. Why don’t you let me buy us a tea to make it up to you? There’s a sweet shop just around the corner that’s supposed to be very good. And I’m told there’s no better way to apologize than a warm drink and something sweet.”

Alice blinked. Had this gorgeous stranger just asked her out to tea? She looked down, a slight flush in her cheeks. “Umm. Thank you but no. I have to get home and make dinner.” Which was true. She’d taken a little longer than she meant to at the antique shop and if she didn’t hurry, she’d have hangry step-sisters to deal with. 

The man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright little lady, I won’t keep you. But - if you change your mind, stop by where I work, hm? Just ask for Sirius. I’d like to apologize properly. Besides, it’s not everyday I nearly run over a beautiful girl.” He jotted an address down on a scrap of paper and slipped it into her bag.

“Thanks,” Alice stepped away. His smile made her heart do funny things in her chest and she wasn’t at all sure if she liked it. Besides, if she stuck around he would definitely notice her blushing and that would be so embarrassing. “It was nice to meet you. Bye!” She hurried off before he could do anything else that would make her feel even more awkward. 

Once home, she stashed her bags and forgot all about the man and his note in the chaos of supper preparation. Anastasia was gluten-free and Druzilla didn’t eat meat, and Lady Tremaine required a broth and fresh bread at every meal. Alice ate whatever was left over from their plates and wasn’t picky about it. 

She still remembered the one time she’d set herself a plate. Just a bit after her father died, and their first family meal without him. Alice just assumed she would be included as usual. The ensuing humiliation clarified her place in the family now though. Servant, unseen and unheard, out of the way. Not a sister nor a daughter. She was no one. The girl that slept in the kitchens. 

It didn’t bother her anymore, not really. That was what she told herself, anyway.

Alice was exhausted by the time she finished emptying the water from Lady Tremaine’s after dinner bath. She didn’t feel much like working on anything, but her imagination spurred her on. The royal ball would be like nothing else. And she would be there, in the dress she made. 

The cloth she had was off-casts, the ends of fabric rolls, and badly cut swaths. Different colors and textures and patterns. A rich panoply of cloth that Alice could visualize in the dress she wanted. It was difficult work to cut and pin, to piece the skirt and bodice together from this random assortment of velvets and silks. But she managed. 

Every day for the next week, she spent any spare moment stitching. Every night, she stayed up as late as she could. She polished the best of the notions from the jar, silver buttons and little paste gems, even a set of tiny bells for the hem. Alice wasn’t entirely sure it would all come together, with so many layers and panels, but it did. 

The dress featured a slow fade from the bright center panel at the front, to a dark central panel at the back. The mismatched patterns were brought together with embroidery, and set with paste gems. And the silver buttons made a beautiful closure for the bodice. One she could do up herself, as she would need to. Alice tried it on. The silk felt so different against her skin after years of wearing rough-spun linen and cotton. 

She couldn’t suppress a laugh as she spun, making the skirt flare out around her legs. The tiny bells made soft music with every motion, only adding to the magical feeling of wearing something that made her feel beautiful. This would be the perfect dress for the royal ball. No one else would have anything like it. And just in time too. Tomorrow was the royal ball and she wouldn’t have time to get ready and finish sewing. 

The next morning, she hurried out to tell Luka her good news. She knew he would be happy for her, and she was too full of joy not to tell someone. Alice caught him just as he was heading out to his second job. “Luka!” She waved him over.

“You look even happier than you did last week.” He smiled at her and then looked down, shuffling his feet. 

“I am! I finished my dress!”

“So . . . you’re going to that royal ball?” Luka raised his head just enough to see her nod affirmation. He sighed. “I heard it’s just so the prince can find his lady love. All the women in Cradle are going on about it.” He let out another long sigh. “I guess you want to marry a prince too?”

Alice frowned. “Nope. I don’t care about that. I just want to go dance and hear the music and see all the pretty decorations. And I want to look beautiful for a night too!”

“You’re always . . . pretty.” Luka’s ears were bright red. The rest of his face was hard to see as he looked down and his hair fell over it. 

She felt as if her breath left her at that unexpected compliment. She’d known Luka for years and he’d never said anything like that. “Th-thanks.”

He glanced up and his cheeks were flushed. There was some unreadable depth to his amber gaze that Alice was afraid to search. “I thought . . . you might . . .” Luka murmured something she could not hear. And before she could respond, he shoved something into her hands and hurried away.

“Hey! Luka! Wait! What is this?” Alice tried to get him to stop but he was nearly running. She looked down at what he’d handed her. A small, wooden box. Alice opened it and nearly dropped it. A pair of tiny earrings lay inside. The delicate metalwork held two tiny stones that matched the color of her eyes perfectly. 

Alice took a trembling breath. She hadn’t expected a gift, much less something like this. Had he meant for her to wear them to the ball? She wasn’t sure, but she decided she would - and then she would give them back. It was too expensive to accept, especially when she knew the long hours and hard work he put in to live on his own. There was no way he could just buy something like this. It was too much, and it made her chest feel tight and hot to think about what he must have done to give this to her.

She tucked the box into an inner pocket under her apron and went back inside. 

The manor was buzzing with activity. After breakfast, there were seamstresses and tailors, shoe fitters, and jewelers in and out of the manor all day. The final fittings and accoutrement for Anastasia and Druzilla. Alice could only admire their lovely ball gowns and jewelry. Stones worth more than the whole manor hung around their necks and gems decorated their hands and ears and hair. 

She did her best to stay out of the way, the quiet and efficient maid she was expected to be. But her step-sisters kept summoning her to them for one thing or another. “Fetch my shawl.” “Bring the other petticoat.” “Get my slippers.” “I want a bite to eat.” “Get me a glass of wine.” 

Of course, Alice knew the real reason for it. She hadn’t told them she made a dress or that she would be going to the ball. And they wanted to show off in front of her. To taunt her with all of the things she could have, if only she wasn’t her father’s daughter. It hurt, more than she cared to admit. But this was hardly the first time and it would not be the last. The Lady Tremaine spared no expense for her daughters. 

She was in the middle of pouring a chilled white wine for Druzilla when the lady herself swept in to inspect the proceedings. The shoe-fitter had only just left, and no doubt Lady Tremaine wanted to see the results. Two pair of perfectly fitted, perfectly matched shoes sat on little pedestals. Bejeweled and shining, with gold filigree and thread of silver. 

“Hm. These might do,” Lady Tremaine gave them a haughty gaze. “Though I dare say he’s done better work.” 

That was the moment Alice noted what the lady held. An all too familiar bit of embroidery poked from the folds of a colorful silk ballgown, but there was something wrong with it. The colorful panels were smeared and stained as if -

“I found this cleaning cloth in your room, Alice. How often must I tell you to clean the rags or dispose of them when they are beyond use?” The lady’s gaze snapped to Alice in the same moment, a sour smile at the corners of her thin lips. She shook out the dress, displaying the damage as if proud of it.

The embroidery was torn and coming undone. Paste gems hung from their stitching or were missing entirely. Several of the panels were coming apart at the seams, with tangles of thread exposed. And the whole thing looked as if it had been shoved into a chimney and pulled through. 

Anastasia’s eyes lighted on it and a fierce wicked flame lit her from within. “What an awful mess that rag is!” She grabbed a sleeve and tore it off. “Was this meant to be a dress? For a cinder-ball?”

Druzilla laughed. “I don’t think even a street urchin would be caught dead in that.” She tore off a gem and crushed it under heel. “Cheap paste. I think even the servants at the palace wear better.” 

“Indeed. This is just a filthy rag.” Lady Tremaine tore the gown, ripping it from seam to seam so that the little silver buttons popped off and rolled about the room. “Throw it in the garbage bin. Unless - Alice, did you have something to say?”

Tears stung her eyes, but there was no way she would let them fall. Not in front of her step-mother. Her heart hurt to see her beautiful creation decimated in moments by cruel hands, but what could she say? ‘No, stop! I am wearing that to the ball?’ It was ruined. And there wasn’t time to even try to repair it. “I- I’ll toss it out right now, my lady.” Her voice was soft, muted. Holding back the rage and disappointment, hiding it under the subservient face Lady Tremaine expected.

“Excellent.” Her step-mother handed Alice the dress and watched her go. Just at the door, the lady called out. “Oh, my dear, I almost forgot to ask. Did you manage to find something to wear for the ball?”

“No, my lady.” Alice bowed her head.

“It’s just as well,” Druzilla remarked. “What would you even do there? Bore them with stories of dusty curtains? Or regal them with recipes for roast duck?”

Anastasia nodded enthusiastically. “I’m sure the royal court would be enamored. Tales from the maid! Can you imagine! I almost want to drag her along so we can watch her humiliate herself.”

“Now girls,” Lady Tremaine’s voice cracked across the room, sharp and cold as ice. “Let’s not be cruel. There is nothing wrong with being a maid. The girl knows her place. And you should know yours. Try to act like a proper lady or it won’t matter how nice a gown I’ve dressed you in.”

“Yes, mother,” both girls replied sulkily. 

Alice was too far down the hall to hear more, and she didn’t want to anyway. Her heart felt as if it was breaking into a thousand pieces. It was so stupid. The whole thing. To think she might get to go to a royal ball . . . to imagine having anything nice. That wasn’t the life she was fated for. No, she’d slave away under Lady Tremaine until her step-mother died. And then she would work for Druzilla, or perhaps Anastasia, until her time came too. That was it. That was all. 

She imagined running away sometimes. Making a life for herself. Working three jobs didn’t seem so bad, and if it was for someone other than Lady Tremaine, it would probably be better. But she was afraid. Cradle could be a dangerous place for a girl on her own. And Alice wasn’t at all sure where she would run to, or how to even start a life. Where to sleep, what to eat,how to find work . . . 

No, this was it, and it was best she accept it. Alice made her way to her room and lay down, silent sobs shaking her shoulders as she cried away her hopes and dreams. She held the remains of her dress in her arms and let her tears soak the silk. 

Part 2

[madamrynodm]

Batman (2022) Sequel thoughts/ideas/wishes

Ok I've thought about this way too much to keep it to myself. So, I cast my thoughts to the void and maybe the void will give me a gold star for my efforts

I've got 2 big hopes/what-ifs for the sequel to The Batman. Easily became one of my favorite superhero films ever, and I cannot wait to see more! Anyway

2 big hopes: Dick Grayson and the Court of Owls. I wanna see them. I wanna see them so bad. I think there's potential for a SICK story if they go that route

1. Dick Grayson. PLEASE GIVE US ROBIN I BEG OF YOU! I think BatPat is a great candidate for a Robin story. Him being fresh on his journey to understand who he is as Bruce and Batman would be great to see contrasted with a young Robin on the trail of vengeance. We could watch him struggle with the desire to help Dick get justice for his parents' deaths (something BatPat hadn't gotten), but also want to protect him from the dark pit Bruce found himself in in the last movie. I'd like for Dick to actually be a kid in this rendition, maybe a teen. Either way, let him be young. I wanna see Bruce lose his mind trying to be a parent while Alfred watches smugly

2. Court of Owls 🦉 They'd be perfect here! Now, I don't want them to be the Big Bads yet. Let's just uncover them. The death of the Graysons can lead the film, and we can discover a deeper conspiracy linked to them later on (set up a 3rd movie?). If I remember correctly, in the Court of Owls run (2011?), they orchestrated the Grayson murders to try and nab Dick. Bring him into their fold as a new assassin. The Court could also play into Bruce's continued struggles with the Wayne family legacy and the "sins of the father" theme (what with the Court manipulating the Waynes for generations)

Ok ok ok now for the meat and potatoes of my rant. Here's how I'd run the Batman sequel if I had any power or even vague experience in filmmaking:

We open the movie loud. The opposite of the first. I'm talking bright lights and loud music. It's a carnival, a public event. Something to raise money for Gotham. Bruce is there, and he hates it. But, hey, if he wants to help the city, he's gotta step up his public game. We follow him through this loud, oppressive environment to the big top. Time for the main event. Circus begins, all eyes on the center ring. Introduce the Graysons! We got Mom, Dad, and Dick all performing their hearts out. The movie gets louder, everyone loves their performance!

Then, it goes dead silent. The Graysons fall. They die in front of everyone, right there. Bruce and Dick both have front row seats to the tragedy. The circus goes nuts, but we don't hear a thing. Cut to later, Dick is alone, maybe with the police, an EMT, idk. Anyway, in a scene that mirrors the mayor's kid in the 1st movie, Bruce sees Dick suffering alone and takes him in. (I don't know if that is when a formal adoption happens or if that's saved for the end of the film)

Moving on, Bruce takes to the streets as the Bat, investigating the Grayson deaths. Something's wrong. This is shaping up to be a murder. He later investigates another murder. Pull this scene from the comics, Owl motifs, warnings, all that. Movie follows that line of tying the seemingly unrelated deaths together and finding the Court beneath it all.

Maybe give Dick a bit of Tim Drake and let him catch on that something is up with Bruce. Dick wants in, he wants to find his parents' killer. Bruce lets him, recognizing his desire for justice and thinking that it'll help this kid. Shenanigans ensue. Like I said before (I think), a central arc we could see is Bruce now watching the path of vengeance from the outside, trying to help this scared and hurt kid heal while giving him and his parents the justice they deserve. Further examination of what it means to be a hero, what it means to truly heal, etc.

We can wrap up with Dick bringing the killer to justice and finding some peace. But it ain't over yet, as Bruce realizes that there's something deeper going on. Gotham's boogeyman, the Court of Owls, is real! And they're up to something! BA BA BA!!

I think Dick should become Robin in act 1 or the start of act 2. Either way, if we are gonna get a live action Robin, I wanna see him in action! Also I wanna see people like Gordon and Martinez react to Bats just... suddenly having a child around. Let Dick make bad jokes please 🙏

Whew! That's is for me! I finally wrote this all down, maybe I can clear out some brain space now

[scorchedhearth]

Day. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”

im in a jaykyle mood so enjoy this one :]

Kyle wakes up slowly, dragged inches by inches towards consciousness, a process he knows and is used to, something he wouldn’t take notice of if it weren’t for the spikes of pain he vaguely registers throughout his body, in his limbs, wrist, chest. He’s been in this position enough time to know what it means, and it’s not something he’s looking forward to.

He cracks an eye open, looks at the room he’s in. A bedroom, stripped to the bare minimum, impersonal but clean. A familiar sight. He’s on the bed, over the covers with a light blanket over his legs, head resting on a pillow and a noise coming from his right. He jerks, shifts his head subtly to find who’s sitting next to him.

“My place,” a voice he knows well speaks in the quiet of the room. “Found you on the sidewalk, this isn’t the worse you’ve looked but I’ve definitely seen better.” Jason continues speaking as his fingers fly over his phone’s screen, typing faster than Kyle can follow

“Hey,” Kyle rasps out as an answer and takes a moment to look at him, his hair longer than he remembers, the jeans and shirt he’s wearing, the false air of casualty Jason carries with him wherever he goes. “How long?”

“About an hour since I picked you up.” Jason deftly pockets the phone and lays his gaze on Kyle, looking him up and down methodically. “Anything hurting?”

“Everything,” he sighs dramatically, because Jason means safety, and he’s not sure when those two ever became synonyms for him.

“Got roughed up good, yeah,” Jason smirks as he says those words. “Crash landed in Gotham, right in my turf. Nobody got hurt,” he answers before Kyle can even ask. “Unlike you. But you’ll live, nothing too serious. A couple broken bones, minor cuts and bruises, your ring is pretty nifty when it comes to protection shield, you know that?”

“I can patch myself up.” He protests weakly, even to his own ears, when Jason details the injuries. He tries to sit up but even the idea of loving his arms or torso seems like torture. He settles for shifting his head to look at Jason.

“No, you can't,” he answers bluntly. “Not in your state. You are exhausted so you won't be able to focus to use the ring, and-” he cuts when he sees Kyle is about to speak. "I pumped you with enough painkillers to take out a horse. You cannot patch yourself up."

Kyle focuses on his ring, on green, on will, the one that comes most easily and yeah, even using all the focus at his disposal he can't get a single construct out, must less a clear idea of what he’d want to make. It feels like his mind is being pulled in a dozen directions at once.

“Yeah, ok.” He sighs and lets his head roll on the pillow, looking at the ceiling. But there is one thing, though. “Why’d d’you pick me up?” Kyle asks him, turning towards him once again.

“The White Lantern laying unconscious in the narrows ain’t a good idea, you know. Had to fish you out the street did.” Jason keeps his voice casual, but there’s something on his face, the way he’s still sitting on a mismatched armchair near him.

“You’ve been sitting with me the whole time?” He rasps out, and watches, delighted, as Jason clams down and shuts off his face. Kyle beams, knowing he just hit the target right on. “Aw, you do care about me, Jason!” And that makes him laugh, unfortunately, because his entire left side is eaten by a pain burning like fire, something that makes him cough out pained grunts instead of laughter.

“Cracked ribs.” The smug expression slides easily on his face, although it is subdued. “Just making sure you were breathing right.”

“Right,” Kyle drawls and slowly lifts a hand up, the one with the ring. “I do yield the power of Love, you know.” When Jason doesn’t speak, he does it for him. “I know you’ll never say it, but I know.” The hand flops back on the covers and he closes his eyes. He knows he should say something more, could taunt and mock but he’s tired, and in that weird feeling where he knows things hurt but they don’t really, they just feel numb and that in return make him feel fuzzy. So he doesn’t say anything, letting the silence drags on as Jason stands up, walks around the room.

The foot taping he was hearing since he woke up is gone, as are the tense shoulders and Kyle knows that, even if he refuses to admit it, he’s sitting in this room just as much for himself as he is for Kyle’s sake. It’s heady, this holds they have on each other, one that crept up on them without him noticing.

"Hey, wanna cuddle?” He blurts out when Jason steps closer, grins at the falter in his footsteps.

"Don't push it, Rayner,” he grunts, and that makes him open his eyes, if only to watch the twists of his lips and the angry frown of his eyebrow.

"Come on, you know you want it too. Hugging is supposed to release good hormones for healing, right?"

“Cuddle this," is all he gets for an answer, along with a pillow thrown in his face. Ouch.

“Asshole,” Kyle mumbles even as he grips the pillow in his arms and releases some of the tension that built in his chest. “As soon as the drugs wear off, I’ll deal with that.” He promises and Jason hums. “Show you how it’s done.”

“Sure.” He says as if he were entertaining the ideas of a child, not the promise of witnessing great powers in action. “I’ll be right there when you wake up to see that.”

“Good,” Kyle nods once and his eyes slip close again, the sense of safety and familiarity of having Jason by his side enough to pull him back into unconsciousness, a well-known feeling by now.

[marvins-linguinie]

has halloween passed? yes.

did i have the flu and wasn't able to write all the spooky fruity four headcannons that i wanted to? also yes.

steve and eddie invite robin and nancy over for halloween.

they were planning to order some food, watch a few scary movies, the usual

until, there was a bang at the door.

steve: we don't have any candy!

another knock.

robin: probably some stupid teens.

yet again, another knock.

eddie: i got this.

he opens the door, to find no one.

he steps out on the porch, and looks around.

not a soul around.

eddie goes back in, shutting the door.

nancy: who was it?

eddie: no one was even there?

robin: they ding ding ditched. steve would know a lot about that, wouldn't you?

steve: it was once, okay? and the kids dared me t-

another knock.

nancy: i've had enough of this.

she stomps to the door, determined to stop these kids, but finds no one.

she even walks around the house, but finds no kids.

nancy walks back inside, flopping down on the couch.

robin: im not one to believe in spirits or anything, but i think we're being haunted.

nancy: it doesn't make sense. whoever is knocking, would have to have somewhere to hide since they're doing it so-

que the knock.

steve: you have got to be kidding me.

eddie: let's just ignore it. maybe they'll go away.

the rest of the group agrees, until the loud knocks become unbearable.

steve yanks the door open

steve: LOOK, WHOEVER IS DOING THIS, BETTER CUT IT OUT. I HAVE THE CHIEF OF POLICE ON SPEED DIAL, AND I DON'T THINK ANYONE WANTS TO SPEND HALLOWEEN IN JAIL.

he slams the door shut, and begins walking to the living room before he hears another knock.

he opens the door

steve: DID YOU THINK I WAS JOKING? HUH? I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL CALL HIM.

he slams the door, once again, and sits down on the couch.

nancy waits by the door, preparing to scare whoever is knocking.

but the knocks stop.

she sits back down, then the phone rings.

robin: i think we're in a horror movie. TAKE STEVE FIRST!

steve: really?

eddie answers the phone

eddie: hello?

caller:

eddie: look, whoever is doing this-

another knock.

eddie hangs the phone up, and walks to the door, opening it.

no one

eddie: we're moving out. i am not gonna be haunted. WE DO NOT WANT TO DISTURB YOU, DEAR SPIRIT. WE SHALL LEAVE, OK? YOU WIN!

steve: we aren't being haunted.

nancy: yeah guys, ghosts don't exist.

the phone rings once more.

nancy picks it up this time.

nancy: this isn't funny. i swear-

eddie: you've gotta be kidding me.

steve, robin, and nancy: what?

eddie: IM CALLING YOUR PARENTS! YEAH, YOU THOUGHT I DIDN'T SEE YOU HUH EL? YOU TOO, MAX. ALL OF YOU.

steve steps outside, and catches a glimpse of the kids under a street light.

the phone rings again.

steve walks up to the kids, but they disappear as soon as he gets close?

steve: NOPE! NOPE. NOPE. I AM NOT DOING THIS.

eddie and steve walk back inside, and see nancy on the phone

nancy: the kids are with you? that can't be possible, joyce.... no, no, i understand that..... mhm. well, thanks..... you too... bye.

robin: so?

nancy: joyce and hopper are with the kids.

steve: what? but i just saw them.

nancy: joyce said they're trading candy. i don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't them.

robin: there has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

eddie: yeah, WE'RE BEING HAUNTED-

a knock.

steve cautiously opens the door

he sees the kids, as they all scream: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

steve: what

nancy: im calling joyce again.

robin: im so confused right now it's not even funny.

eddie: WHAT IF LIKE THOSE ARE THEIR GHOSTS AND THEY'RE HAUNTING US??

max: we aren't ghosts. el used her powers to trick you.

steve: i don't believe you. what's something max would say?

max: you should've seen your face.

nancy: joyce isn't answering

eddie: WE'RE BEING HAUNTED

robin: THIS IS NOT OKAY.

steve: EVERYONE SHUT UP.

steve: nancy, call hopper.

mike: will you guys just take a joke, geez.

eddie: THAT'S SOMETHING A GHOST WOULD SAY!

robin: OKAY IM AGREEING WITH EDDIE THOSE THINGS ARE GHOSTS

nancy: hopper said that the kids have been gone all night. then he said something about a prank.

dustin: you guys are slow.

eddie: THAT'S STILL SOMETHING A GHOST WOULD SAY

steve: OH MY GOD WILL YOU SHUT UP? how'd you guys disappear, then?

will: disappear? what are you talking about? we were hiding behind your neighbors house.

steve looks at eddie.

eddie: SO THEY'RE GHOSTS. OR WHAT IF THEY HAVE EVIL CLONES-

steve, robin, and nancy: SHUT UP.

max: seriously, what are you guys talking about?

steve: i saw you. then i got close and you like.. disappeared.

el: i am sorry. i did that.

the rest of the party burst out laughing, and simply walk away.

steve: we just got pranked by a bunch of 15 year olds.

eddie: okay, but hear me out, ghosts could still be on the table-

steve: i swear to god, munson-

eddie: sorry.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Psst don't tell anyone but I'm cooking rn and you're all invited to have a slice when I'm done. Have a cheeky unhinged and unedited writing WIP from me really challenging myself today after watching half a 3hr long video essay that set my brain on fire. Needs work but I'm feeling Ok about it so far.

Maybe it’s the danger, he considered. It was a fabricated, separated thing. To be enjoyed inside the screen where it stayed, you were safe from the blood splatter and the pain and the suffering. You can take what you want and leave the rest, at least normal people could, he corrected. He wasn’t ever so lucky. Maybe it accounted for the frustration he felt, maybe it was a source of the resentment he was so deeply trying to quell as he walked. The world was an ugly and horrifying place as it was, even worse when you were cursed with the knowledge of what was also out there hiding in the shadows. He ducked into a back alley, away from the blinding sting of the street lights, away from the droves of pedestrians that stumbled drunkenly to their next destination. It’s got to be the danger. He’d had casual conversation with Lisa before about Ben’s father, letting his curiosity get the better of him, probing for information. A part of him still left unsure, or maybe he just still wanted to believe there was a chance it might’ve been him. He seemed like a dangerous guy, from what little information she offered. There was an allure to the mystery, the power, he’d admit that. He knew it excited people, he’d used it before a thousand times with women to great success - he played the part and reveled in it, but part of him was always left yearning. He could never truly be honest with anyone, not about what he did, who he was. Lisa was an outlier but even then, he had refrained from telling her everything. The lifestyle on the road, the pocket knife in his boot, the scars on his body, all left questions unspoken and unanswered - perhaps a thousand different stories were fabricated in the minds of the women he’d laid with before. None would be close to the truth. He was no stranger to fantasy, as Sam would often mistake his jokes for needing to be reminded there was a difference between what he watched after dark and how things played out in the real world. But this was different, this was crazy, this was about monsters. Monsters that ‘liked watching you sleep’. Monster’s that ‘might hurt you if you stay’. Monsters that ‘wan’t more than anything to bite you’.

He paused as he reached the end of the alley, lurking briefly in the shadow of a building as it draped him in comfort of his own isolation. Perhaps his complaints on the film were too harsh, perhaps there was an ounce of realism to its presentation. He moved to rest against the building wall, squinting out from the darkness into the brightly lit street spread out ahead of him. He pictured himself in Lisa’s bedroom, towering over her sleeping form in the dark. How must’ve she felt when she awoke. How scared she looked when he–

He violently slammed a fist into the wall beside him, cutting the thought short. It hardly hurt as much as he felt it ought to, which made him feel even worse. He vaguely recalled something Sam said when their investigation began, ‘when the fantasy becomes reality it’s a nightmare’. He’d brushed it off as some sappy academic bullshit at the time, giving it and anything else in regards to the topic no consideration. If glitter and halloween costume fangs were enough to get in someone’s pants, there was something to it, he admitted. But it was still a fantasy. A role play of sorts brought into the personal from the digital space. Maybe these girls never believed they were going to meet a real vampire, maybe all along it was just playing with the fantasy. Maybe they were expecting someone like the sparkly freak out the back of the bar that he had accosted before he got attacked. Perhaps they were just looking for a connection, someone that shared something with them in a life defined by social alienation, seeking it out through niche chat rooms in dark corners of the internet. He could reconcile with that.

His thoughts were interrupted briefly as a small crowd walked past on the sidewalk near where he was brooding. The overwhelming sound of laughter mixed with heartbeats made his head spin and his stomach churn, consuming his mind. They passed by quickly but the feeling in his body lingered long past when he couldn’t hear them any longer. If only people knew what it was really like. Deep down a part of him wished there was no cure, that it would be simple. He’d died once and Sam… survived, for lack of a better term. It would mean he didn’t have to live like this. An animal driven by an inescapable hunger hiding under the surface of a human facade.

[cantstoptheimagines]

just finished watching journey to bethlehem so i could see milo manheim and uhhh... here are my “train of thoughts” notes, meaning there is literally no organization here

@multifandomsimagine must hate me rn because i basically gave her a play by play of the entire movie bc it's just so campy. it's literally just a bible dcom to be quite honest. (also i am officially campaigning for milo manheim to play flynn rider and it’s all based on his role as joseph alone) 💀

They think I wouldn’t notice the inclusion of a Pair of Kings actor, but I did

Not even two minutes in, I can already tell this movie is going to be fucking hilarious

The narration sucks, it’s so bland

Why is the “Journey to Bethlehem” song suddenly a pop ballad?

The costuming is okay, but the language is so modern. This feels like a play written by TikTok

The first song is a bop

The facial expressions so far are very bland

I feel like it’s trying to provide some feminism anecdotes, which I find very interesting. Not what I expected at all to be honest

Feels like a play you’d do in high school for extra drama club credits

Joseph is literally just Wally Clark if he were in a Bible study club

I genuinely can’t tell if this is meant to be satirical or not

I’m living for Puss in Boots as an evil king, iconic

Good to Be King is the ultimate showtime villain song. I will die on this hill

Love the choreography in this villain song. Love men who can dance in sync while stomping their armored boots

THE SNAPPER LIGHTS, I’M CRYING

Love Mary’s betrothal outfit

This dialogue is so fucking funny and for what reason?!

Office camera glance

I really like the shot of them behind the water wheel thing, it’s gorgeous

His hand is so much bigger than hers, oh my god

Gabriel. Iconic. Hilarious.

Far more Mary centered than I expected. It’s definitely her movie

Camera work during Mother to a Savior is beautiful

Love the map graphics

That cut from Mary/Elizabeth to Joseph. The editing in this movie is so smooth

Good Joseph, Bad Joseph. Why is he dressed like evil Legolas? Their outfits are giving Anakin and Padme

The Ultimate Deception is definitely one of the best songs. Joseph fighting against himself in his own subconscious, singing a duet with himself! Are you kidding me?!

Officially considering Joseph fanfiction

The Magi are everything musical theatre needs right now

The donkey as a running joke lol

We Become We is a love song for the ages, try to prove me wrong, I dare you

Dancing with the fireflies?!!!!!! When will it be my turn

The way she turned her head away, this is so funny oh my god

A prince with daddy issues?! Guess I found my husband for this movie. He has a great song, definitely one of the best but it’s probably the least promoted. I’ve never even heard it before even though it’s so good

Why wouldn’t you just lie about where you’re from lol, am I missing something with that part?

Joseph jumping into action after Mary says she wasn’t the only one chosen for this. We love a Milo Manheim character

“we’re meeting the lord, surrounded by sheep shit” lmaooo

Mary and Joseph are just the smart girl, dumb boyfriend trope and I love them for it

Joseph carrying her through the streets. He should’ve been a girl dad

Bro just got knocked out by a donkey lmao

Silent Night scene with a donkey pacing outside the barn where Mary is giving birth is honestly great

A shining light over the world with an angel choir concert glowing and sparkling in the sky, hot damn, who would’ve imagined

“I’m holding all the answers in my arms” is such a good lyric

“Mine is the kingdom, mine is the power, mine is the glory forevermore” changing into “thine” was a pretty clever idea

Joseph kissing Mary’s head!!! STOP WHY AM I SHIPPING BIBLICAL FIGURES

“One who has come to save the lost.” “Am I lost?”

“You are not your father” CALL OUT THOSE DADDY ISSUES, MARY

Damn, ok, Antipater

*finally kisses Joseph* “You’re welcome” WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

Stay for the end credits just to hear Brand New Life, it’s a great song too. The credits also feature Go Tell It On The Mountain

Would I be weird if I wrote fics for this movie lmao

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

OK, Royalty AU idea!! So, Mads has never actually governed solo before, unlike King Crackshell. He's always ruled alongside the King (and even then, he probably left most of the heavy lifting up to NFenton). It gets brought up somehow, and Mads insists he'd be amazing at running things himself if he had to (like, totally arrogant) and that it would be easy. NFenton is both amused and exasperated, and gently tells him he's probably not ready yet and that it's a lot harder than it looks. Mads gets insulted and sulks. To prove his point and give him experience at the same time, the king decides to allow Mads a whole day to govern all by himself while he "attends to business of his own in town" (which is actually a spa day that he feels is much earned). He reminds Mads that Blue and Lord Gearloose will be there if he needs any help (both Blue and Lord Gearloose- especially Gearloose- think the king is crazy and beg him to reconsider), but Mads insists he's totally got this.

As expected, Mads is in way over his head. Lord Gearloose accompanies Mads throughout the day with Fenton's schedule (some routine daily tasks, some scheduled only for that day), including settling citizens' disputes and problems, attending to meetings with other nobility, etc, and Lord Gearloose is very fussy and strict about adhering to the schedule down to the very minute... which drives Mads nuts! (And Gearloose doesn't let Mads decree it Muffin Day, much to his displeasure). Anyway, Mads is bored and tries to do things his own unique way when carrying out his tasks, which blows up in his face and causes problems, and greatly frustrates Gearloose.

By the end of the day, Mads is very exhausted and cranky and stressed out, and begs Fenton to take over when he comes back from his secret spa day (the king is refreshed and relaxed), saying he was wrong and that he doesn't know how he ever did it alone. He's discouraged, saying maybe he's not cut out to be a king, and Fenton assures him that all it takes is experience and that he believes he'll be ready someday. They share a cute moment, the end.

OH MY GOSHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM this is so fun

I couldn't help it and ended up writing that ending scene :3 It uhhhh actually got a lot more heavy and emotional than I thought it would be oops-

By the end of the day the Mad Ducktor was tired, stressed out, and ready to throw anyone who so much as looked at him out into the streets. He was flopped down at the table in the corner of Beakley’s kitchen, most definitely not hiding from whatever else Gearloose had on his itinerary. 

Beakley had done the smart thing and entirely ignored his presence there, Mads was upset enough that he probably would’ve yelled at her if she simply just asked what he wanted for dinner. She was on the other side of the kitchen, lighting the fire in one of the ovens. 

Mads didn’t look up as he heard the door to the kitchen open, but he could make out a purple smudge in the corner of his eye. He sighed, getting ready for whatever kind of ‘I told you so’s he was going to get. 

“So,” the king asked, strolling with a fake nonchalance into Mads’ line of sight. “What’d you manage to mess up while I was gone?” 

Mads didn’t give him the benefit of an answer, all he did was glower up from under his bangs in a way that would’ve made flying birds drop dead out of the sky. Flopped forward on the table, his chin resting on the rough wood with his arms stretched out in front of him, it was really the most he could do. Fenton had given him the crown that morning in a way of symbolically handing over his power, and now it sat next to Mads on the table. 

Fenton laughed, and Mads found his good mood all the more infuriating. “But really, how’d it go?” 

“I think it’s rude,” Mads sniffed haughtily, turning away from him, “that you came in here and just immediately assumed that I’d ruined things.” He hesitated. “You haven’t talked to Gearloose yet, have you?” 

“No, I thought I’d hear how you thought it went first.” Fenton moved around to come sit next to him. “And I’m sorry. What’d you manage to fix for me while I was gone?” 

Mads didn’t answer that. “How’d your business go today?” 

“Hm?” As always, the king lied effortlessly. “Oh, it went well. I got quite a few things worked out. Very beneficial.”

“Great.” Mads’ face was turned away from the duck, he knew Fenton couldn’t see him roll his eyes. “Did you do that before or after your bath and massage?” 

He felt Fenton hesitate, and couldn’t help the smug smile that crept over his beak. “...What makes you think I did either of those?” He asked. 

“You smell like whatever kind of fancy soap Gearloose uses.” Mads huffed. “And you’re not limping.” 

The king had an old battle injury in his knee, one that hadn’t healed correctly and acted up from time to time. It usually got bad after long and stressful days, but recently it’d seemed to be painful for no obvious reason. Fenton had simply blamed it on getting older and tried to ignore it, and his limp had been getting progressively worse over the last few days. Now it was noticeably entirely gone. 

The king sighed. “Alright, you caught me. I took the day off and spent it in the caves.”

“Without me?” Mads finally sat up to look at him. 

“You were being in charge for today!” 

Mads groaned, flopping back on the table, his arms crossed and his face buried in them. He felt Fenton gingerly patting his back. “I’m guessing it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be?” 

The Mad Ducktor just gave another heavy groan, and Fenton chuckled. “Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so,’” he growled, cutting the duck off before he got a chance to speak. 

“I wasn’t going to!” Fenton defended. 

“Mm-hm.” 

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to try it again tomorrow, if today was only bad because it was your fi-” 

“Oh my god please no, I’m never doing that again.” Mads sat up, holding his head in his hands. 

“You won’t have to,” Fenton’s hand rubbed his shoulders. “I’m going to be here.” 

Mads turned his head to look at him, his voice full of exhaustion and fear. “But then what am I here for? I’m supposed to help you with all of this, but I can barely handle it. Gearloose and Blue really did most of it, and it was still too hard!” His voice dropped, more fear creeping its way in. “I’m not good at it.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be good at it,” Fenton responded. 

Despite himself, Mads frowned. “Thanks.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” The king quickly backtracked. “Sorry. I’m just saying, it’s not really something that you can immediately be good at. I’d say that nobody’s good at anything right away. I was very slowly eased into it, and every day I still get help from Gearloose and Blue, I don’t do it all myself. And I get help from you as well, you being willing to help out with ruling has made things so much easier too.” 

Mads looked at him for a moment, then slowly sank down to rest his head on the table once more. 

“What?” Fenton asked. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing. I just realized something.” 

“What is it?” 

Mads sighed. “We were never allowed to not be good at something,” he said quietly. His voice always got quiet and nervous whenever he thought back on his time with the assassins. “I didn’t know that that’s different out here. Which I’m realizing is why I was so confident in wanting to do this, because when you have to be good at everything you don’t realize that there’s a possibility that you aren’t.” 

“Oh Selene, Mads, no.” Fenton moved closer, putting an arm around him. “Everyone is expected to not be good at things when they first start out. You learn over time how to do something, you get better at it! Practice makes perfect, you know?” 

Mads shook his head. “Never heard of it.” 

Fenton sighed. “I’m sorry. I did dump a lot of it on you at once, I don’t think I ever would have if I’d known you wouldn’t let yourself be bad at it.” He rested his head on the table as well, so he could properly meet Mads’ gaze. “I didn’t expect you to be perfect at it, and that’s because no one is right away. I’ve been doing this for seven years and I still make mistakes. And I’m always still going to be here to help you, you won’t have to do it alone like that again! The point of this was meant to be working toward doing more of it together.” 

The Mad Ducktor looked at him. “So you’re saying I’m not going to be useless forever?” 

“No,” Fenton’s voice was firm. “You’re going to keep learning and getting better at it. And you’ll have a lot of us here to help you. And you’re not useless!” 

“But I barely do anything here, and I’m still treated like a king!” Mads pointed out. “I’m contributing nothing to compensate for that!” 

“You don’t have to,” The king’s tone turned soft. “I know you didn’t choose this life specifically, and that you’re just here because I love you. And that’s all you can be here for! I love that you want to help out, but you don’t have to. I thought I made that clear when we decided why we didn’t want to get married yet.” 

“You did,” Mads sighed. “But I can’t help but feel it.” 

“You’re not useless, you’re not mooching, you’re not contributing nothing.” Fenton leaned forward, kissing the space between Mads’ eyes. “You’re helping me by just being here, being supportive. And if you want to help more, I’d love that, but you don’t have to.” 

“I do want to help more. I want to actually earn a title.” 

“Then I’m here to help you figure out how.” Fenton smiled. “And we can do it the right way and ease you into it, instead of throwing it all at you at once. But you’re going to get there, you’re going to be good at it.” 

Mads returned the smile. “Alright. If you say so.” 

“I do.” Fenton sat up, and Mads did too, pulling him into a hug. Fenton sealed his points by hugging Mads so tightly the assassin thought his ribs would crack. 

“Okay, okay, I get it!” He laughed, pulling away. “Thanks.” 

“If you’re done processing childhood trauma over there,” Beakley’s voice cut into their conversation, making both of them jump. “Your dinner was ready five minutes ago, if you want to eat it now.”

[rbdbrainworms]

ok right, let's think about this from diego's perspective for a moment

lets start at the baseline that ur the spoiled son of one of the most powerful man in the contry, the ✨hottest prettiest most popular coolest boy in ur whooole rich kid elite school✨, and you just started dating this rly hot girl

except u also went out on a date w some older girls on the side and got drunk and totalled a car and ended up in the hospital and now u have to do community service and ur powerful dad is manipulative and crazy and overbearing and u dont know how stand up to him and ur home life is a disaster and ur actually really unhappy with your lifestyle and you very likely have a precocious alcoholism problem and you feel u have to hide the things youre most passionate abt - like music - , repress who you might actually want to be and bow down to your father's pressures. but its fiiiiine as long as you dont think abt it too much, right?

right, anyway! the girl ur dating complains abt this annoying new girl in you ~elite~ school, the daughter of a famous singer. apparently shes weird, and mean, and combative, so tacky and rude and unfiltered and disruptive. this new girl heard some mildly incriminating things you and your girlfriend talked abt, and now shes worried. your attitude is, of course, to go up to the new girl and threaten her for no real reason

and she is, well. much like described: strong-minded, agressive, irreverent, no filter. says and does whatever she wants. talks back to you and then some. you grab her and shes like. who tf are you. no i cant get u my moms autrograph. you threaten her right out and shes just, im sorry, are u chapolin colorado?? i think u forgot ur antennas sweetie

(sorry just. her dialogue >>>)

(she also lights up a sinalizer inside as bus beside u bc of it, but you never find that out)

ok,. you go on to your little rich kid school club. you get attacked and stabbed on the way to ur secret community service - yknow, over the drunk driving, - and a little child has to live on the street bc ur dad arranges that his brother is wrongfully arrested over it. youre not happy abt it, necessarily, but also youre not the type of person who would do anything to stop it, especially against your dad

your dad humiliates you and tears you a new one and you're all very frustrated w life. but you bow your head to him and move on, as always, because what else can you do?

you get drunk, again, and ends up kissing your girlfriends' best friend

the next day you stumble upon that girl in the hallway, and provoke her - like before, she claps back immediately. didn't she realize already this is your place, and the rest of your friends', and not for people like her??

heres the answer: she starts fighting your friend for calling her mother a slut (in not so many words) and you get in the way - and she reads you and your dad for filth. then, she gets her finger right at the center of the wound - she'd much rather have her people and her mother's artist crowd and revealing clothes and ""lack of class""" over having a corrupt father who'd sent someone to jail for a crime they didnt commit.

see, she is the type of person who wouldn't let something like that happen without consequence .

you dont really have much to say to that, or much to do really, except. seethe

you say to your friends, the best thing to do is to ignore her!

and then, well, you dont

by the way, you are the ✨prettiest, hottest, most popular boy in school✨ and this girl, as established, is inconvenient, weird, shameless, uncontrollable, she has no class or respect for you or your friends, her makeup is too dark, her hair is strange, her humor is cutting, her bad temper is obvious. you, well, you can have aaaany girl you want - so you're definitely not and would NEVER be attracted to her at all!

anyway, a gossip rag comes up and talks abt you kissing yours girls best friend. even though it makes absolutely no sense for this new girl to be the one to do it - she doesnt even know you all, and really doesn't seem like the kind to say something behind the back rather than in your face- and even though you've talked a grand total of two (2) times (and "talked" here is being generous), you're suddenly Convinced , it Has to be her. bc....... her mom is a famous singer. so. irrefutable proof. right there.

that, ofc, justifies you throwing her overboard into a lake, even though she doesnt know how to swim. all your friends think you exaggerated, after all you couldve really hurt her, maybe even killed her - you shrug and laugh it off.

"roberta is very rough" you say. SOMEONE has to show her whos boss, someone has to show her who REALLY has the power here, you tell them. obviously that someone has to be you

could it be possible that you're trying to feel powerful after your recent fuck ups and your dads latest humiliation? is it possible you overdid it bc this girl pushes aaaaall your buttons ? that it irritates you that she's so strong-minded and defiant and you're not?🤔naah don't worry about it

so, she finds out you couldve KILLED her. and then she throws ur 15k guitar into the water as retaliation . as one does. and you are LIVID. it is a 15k guitar, and also the one thing you really actually love - music

as the very not-unhinged person you are, you threaten to drown her, (again). she says she isnt scared of you, and you insist that she is. you tell her you have A LOT of power (do you?) and if she "continues with the gossip rags", which she denies writing, you will certainly "put her in her place"

she clearly has no framework for what she should or shouldnt do, or who she should or shouldnt mess with. but that should show her

so she's actually pretty freaked out. and leaves. you don't see her for three weeks

do you take this is as a win?

nope! you, the ✨ hottest, prettiest most popularest boy in school✨ apparently did not have much better things to do these 3 weeks than obsess over her, bc the first thing you do upon coming back is going out to find her, threaten her (you have to cuddle her to do that, for some reason) and put in place a questionable plot to try to get her expelled

see, you tell her, you always get what you want (do you?) and the thing you want THE MOST is for her to leave the school

why do you care SO much abt expelling her? you've talked what, 3 times. you've certainly had worst, more violent altercations with other people in this meantime. you don't know that she would mess with you again. if you're SO powerful and able to show her who's boss, why worry so much about making her , in particular, leave? weeell, don't worry about it

you're so happy about this plan and managing to screw her over, that you get drunk again! in celebration, you toast to the girl who made you the happiest lately - roberta pardo! . you kiss a pillow as if its her. when your actual girlfriend hears you, she thinks it means youre cheating on her - and who can blame her?

and then! the plan fails. bc ur a villain and the power of friendship defeats you!

also, she's extremely clever. you'll realize in the near future, its rare that you manage to outsmart her - and the times you do, you usually regret . but let's not get ahead of ourselves

you're furious. you vow shes "going to pay" ;.

pay for what? she hasnt actually done anything, other than respond to your attacks - all of the times you've met, she's always been answering your own agressiveness, standing her ground instead of bowing her head.

you have so far: threatened her on sight, insulted her family, thrown her in a lake, accused her without evidence, threatened to drown her, and tried to frame her for theft and get her expelled. she has... insulted you back, thrown your guitar on a lake after you threw her, and outsmarted you, defending herself against your accusations

now, not only did she escape your little plot, meaning she will stay in school, where you'll see her everyday, she doesn't even have the decency to be intimidated anymore! now she has the audacity of saying she's not scared of you, that you're the one who is going to pay, and this has just begun.

you hear all of that very closely, by the way, because you're pushing her against a wall

youre even more ... furious and dedicated to ~~bringing her down

you've known her for what ammounts to one (1) week.