#and then there’s max who likes Died came back and yeah yeah yeah

[makeitlookdecent]

srry homie for what im boutta do

for the au[other colors] i thought it would be cool to have klugs parents show up for a couple scenes, but for the timeline of the major events i needed them GONE and UNRESPONSIVE.

hes smart so i think, even at a young age, he gets that they're busy with work and all, and he's not alone per say- his friends and teachers and everyone in primp would definitely look out for him, but ive just been thinking. because like, i thought itd be cool if it was almost like strange also helped raise klug. as a (malicious) mentor of sorts. after they made truce (that they both keep breaking)

i imagine klugs parents are probably good people, but are horrible as parents. like they just keep doing their own thing and just let the village raise him.

but then that got me thinking, in this setting, do you think he would unknowingly (or maybe knowingly but trying not to think about it) resent them for not being there for him growing up?

[sp0o0kylights]

You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once. 

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around. 

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.) 

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis. 

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is. 

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters. 

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean. 

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks. 

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment. 

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat. 

He's young and horny, sue him.) 

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb. 

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in. 

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it. 

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.) 

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually. 

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day. 

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

 Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual; 

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too. 

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.) 

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

[snaileer]

Time Unsolved

Dp Unsolved

“Today on Buzzfeed unsolved we cover the Timely Disappearance of Charles T. Williamsworth.”

Danny slurped loudly on his drink as the intro played. Was he maybe crazy for watching a Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime alone, at night? Maybe.

But Danny had been attacked by ghosts. What was a human gonna do that Skulker couldn’t?

“What a name!” Shane cut in immediately, the video showing him seated at their table holding a cup of coffee. Ryan laughed.

“‘Ello, yes, my name is Sir Charles T. Williamsworth, how art thou? Ah yes, jolly good!” Shane mimicked with a horrifically bad posh British accent.

Ryan laughed harder, “We’ve been to London, they don’t sound like that!” He said between laughs.

“Uh, he does! There’s no way a man with a name like that is not ‘mm yes I will take a spot of tea with my biscuit thank you.’ I’m calling it, he definitely talked like that!”

Danny smiled at the antics as Ryan wheezed, “Well it’s too bad we’ll never know for sure then isn’t it, what with his disappearance, y’know what we’re actually here to talk about.”

“That’s okay. I’ll know. I know my buddy Charles.”

“Alright then.”

Ryan flicked his file open as Shane took a sip from his coffee.

The screen lit up with an image of a man on a black backdrop.

“The Williamsworths were a French-German family who moved to Biel, Switzerland in early 1914, just months before the largest war in European history kicked off.

They were one of the lucky few families to have left France before the war broke out…”

“Oh a family moving, that’s suspicious now?”Shane cut in, yellow words typing themself across the screen.

“Well, it was right before World War 1, I mean the timing is kind of suspicious.” Ryan replied in blue.

-People move, Ryan.-

-Okay, okay, it’s just the facts of the case,.-

Danny rolled his eyes, ready for the story to continue.

The images came back.

“This move would evidently prove to be quite fortunate for the family for obvious reasons. However, it also led Charles to find his true passion: … Watchmaking.”

There was a pause as a map of Switzerland came on screen. “Biel, the town that Charles would live in for the majority of his recorded younger life, was known for watchmaking, being one of several in the heart of an area named ‘Watch Valley.’ “

-You ever own a Swiss watch?-

-Nope-

-Heard they’re good. Reeeal good.-

-Yep.-

-…-

“Charles would reportedly develop a passion for clocks, watches, and timepieces in general, only getting more entrenched in his obsession over time.”

The image of the man now shifted to be overlaid on a map.

“By the time the First World War was over, Charles had gained an ostentatious apprenticeship under one of the premiere watchmakers of the time, Max Stührling. This lasted until Stührling’s death in 1938, after which Charles vanished from any records for two years.”

-Well y’know, his mentor had just died. -Maybe he wanted to grieve. Y’know curl up in his room and not see anybody for a bit.-

Ryan laughed, -2 years, he was crying in his room for 2 years and nobody found him?-

-Well, it’s not like records were great back then, I mean what are you gonna write on the census… just.. like..-

-Loud weeping heard from inside. One resident. Unnamed.-

-Yeah!-

“The next time Charles T. Williamsworth appears on record, it is in the back of a photo from France in 1940. Showing Williamsworth standing in front of a watch shop wearing dark clothes, a distinct pocket watch, and looking into the camera.”

The black and white image appears on screen, zooming in on the background figure. Danny tilts his head at it, something about it niggling at him.

“The shop and its owner would go on to be infamous within the French town for the duration of the Second World War. Charles was unwillingly drafted in the summer of 1941, serving on the front lines for no more than 3 months before sustaining a wound to his face, leaving him with damaged eyesight, facial scarring, and a medical discharge.

He returned to his shop soon after.”

Danny frowned at the mention of what the man had probably gone through.

“Later evidence statements regarding Charles stated that he was: ‘an odd man. He never mentioned the war, leaving it behind once he was not forced to be a part of it. He seemed to be separate from it all, he only cared for his watches.’

This sense of separation would extend to his shop, as when the town was bombed in 1944 leading up to D-day, his shop was left miraculously unharmed. It was reportedly open the very next day.”

-I can appreciate the dedication- Shane says in yellow.

-Yeah, I mean, the morning after is a bit soon, but he did really love watches. If he didn’t have to, I guess he wasn’t gonna close his shop.-

-His advertising: ‘Sure you were almost killed in a fiery explosion, but look! I’ve got new watches!’ Jazz hands.-

Ryan laughs.

“Over the next 50 years, Charles T. Williamsworth would disappear from records repeatedly, sometimes for months, only present on seven censuses between 1952 and 1979. Despite this, the clock shop was never sold, remaining in wait for its master’s return.”

Multiple pictures of pocket watches came onscreen. “It became known in the surrounding area for especially good pocket watches and grandfather clocks. Each personally made using Swiss essemblage practices, often engraved.

While it was a place of prestige, some described the shop as having ‘an unbearably loud sound of ticking, as if a thousand clocks were set to the same second.’

Apparently, Charles ‘seemed to enjoy the sound, often standing in the front room when no one was present. He was able to pick out one clock if it was off time.’ Witnesses stated.”

It cut to showing Shane and Ryan at their table.

“God, I can’t imagine. That’d drive me crazy.” Shane said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I don’t know, a thousand clocks at the same time? Just..” Ryan looked back and forth frantically, as if there were sounds from every direction, “I’d go nuts pretty fast, I can’t even handle one sometimes.”

“I’d just go off and punch one of the clocks, just- RAAAH and -oh my god is that where that comes from?! I’m gonna punch your clock? Or like you clock somebody!?! Oh my god I never realized that!”

Danny’s jaw drops at the realization as Ryan laughs. Shane looks to be losing his mind as well.

“However, Charles’ most notable disappearance was his last.”

Dramatic music played as Danny zoned back in.

“Due to his frequency of vanishing for extended periods of time, it is unknown when exactly Charles disappeared. The last definite sighting of Charles T. Williamsworth was late at night on April 23rd, 1999, when neighborhood patrolman, Elliot Dubois, noticed him locking the door to his shop with its lights still on. Elliot, concerned for the safety of the elderly man, questioned him but eventually allowed Charles to leave, noting that he turned down a road that only led into the woods outside of town.

Two weeks later, 12 year old James Chappellè, a mailboy in the area, noted during his morning run on May 7 that mail had begun to pile up in front of the shop’s door.

Something that had never happened before.”

The word ‘before’ faded into red.

“It reached such a point that the mail system declared they would no longer deliver, as they couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be stolen.

At this point, the police got involved and the case was assigned to Detective Jacob Laurent.

It turned out to be a more difficult case than first expected, as when they looked into Charles’ past, they were unable to turn up any such notable documents as a birth certificate nor any document containing a birthdate.

But when police entered the shop on May 10th, they found it largely empty, with only the shelves, register, and equipment left remaining between the front and back room. There were no clocks of any kind.

It should be noted that there was still money in the register, and a light on in the back though the other bulbs for the front seemed to have been burnt out.

Upon entering the living space above the shop, it was found to be covered in dust, and all of Charles’ clothes and belongings still present.

Rather, there was evidence that Charles largely slept in his shop, with a cot beside his workbench.

A workbench that, upon police entry, only held one gold pocketwatch, personally engraved with the initials ‘C. W.’ As it was known for Charles to always carry the pocketwatch, he was officially declared missing and possibly presumed dead.

The watch’s presence also led detective Laurent to suspect foul play.

Despite the declaration of foul play, the police did not extensively search the town woods, citing the size and density of the forest.”

The video cut to Shane staring at Ryan, face deadpan. Ryan was clearly trying to hold back laughs.

“So… let me get this straight… an old man who’s… how old at this point exactly?”

Ryan laughs, “Nobody knows, there’s no known birthday-“

“That’s weird too, but okay, let’s say he’s like what, at least 95? I mean… there’s a certain age that like if you disappear… ..eh.” Shane shrugged.

Ryan looked at him incredulously, “Eh??”

“Yeah,” Shane shrugged again, “Eh.”

“What???”

“I mean… y’know… old people wander into the woods sometimes, maybe he just went for a walk and got lost. At that age… death has gotta be around every corner, I mean come on!”

Ryan wheezed into his elbow.

Danny laughed quietly.

Once Ryan calmed down, he organized the file, clipping it down on the table, “So! With the story finished, let’s get into the theories,”

Shane rolled his eyes, “Oh god this is gonna be one of yours isn’t it? What ghosts are abducting people now?”

Danny smiled, briefly considering how much effort it would take to go haunt Shane all the way in LA.

“The first theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth was involved with the mafia at the time and was a long standing or high ranking member that had crossed the wrong people.

Some reasons for this theory is the lack of early documents, suggesting a fake identity or forgery.

This case is especially supported by the long absences, where his shop remained closed and yet still remained in his possession.

In fact, the deed for the shop was not listed under Charles’ name, instead Iisted as owned under a private organization.

This theory explains his disappearance and possible subsequent death as an act of revenge from an enemy made from illicit activities. Leaving no body behind, there would be no evidence to prosecute the acting party.

Within this, there are also some who believe that if Charles was engaged in the mafia and lived under a false identity, that his disappearance was him returning to his actual identity, possibly due to being caught.

Prison records indicate 6 Swiss-German inmates arrested at the approximate time of his disappearance, roughly matching the age and appearance of Charles. Notably, none of them had a distinct facial scar and no identification was ever confirmed.”

The screen switched.

Shane smiled at Ryan, “Oh Ho Ho, my boy Charles is getting into some funky stuff, huh? Workin’ for the Mob, breaking knees, chopping fingers?”

Ryan laughed, “Yeah maybe, it definitely lends credit to him being a part of something. Maybe he was out in the woods breaking knees y’know. Or burying something.”

“Someone,…”Shane said ominously, then burst out laughing, “What if he buried himself! Just-“Shane mimed digging, clapping his hands like he was wiping off dust, “Alright, thats a good illegal grave right there, just a good hole for a dead- woaaah!” He pretended to fall, “Boom, stuck in his own grave.”

“Really, this old man dug a 6 foot deep grave? On his own?”

“Hey you don’t know his strength, maybe he lifts.”

“Alright.” Ryan shook his head, still grinning.

Danny smiled, considering it, it did kind of make sense.

“The second theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth did indeed just walk into the woods and never come out. If this is the case, what happened in the woods is widely speculated on. Some saying that animals may have attacked him, or that he simply fell or was injured and could not get up due to his age.

This theory loses support due to the fact that no body was ever found. Though some say that if the woods were too big for the police to search, there may be a den or that his body was covered naturally.”

“Or in a grave.”

“You really think he was mafia?”

“I mean, who could tell?” Shane shrugged.

“The third theory, much like the first, is that Charles was a federal agent for one of the Allied Powers.

This theory is also supported by the significant periods of absence and lack of documents to indicate a forged identity, meant to fool the German government and allow him to work behind the lines. However, unlike the first, there is also evidence of a man with the same distinct scar on his eye, showing up in the background of photos at the British Intelligence Office, the Eiffel Tower during Germany’s occupancy, and behind closed Swiss borders.

None of which would be possible without the unique skills and permissions of a government agent.”

Silence reigned as Shane and Ryan stared each other down, Shane clearly ramping up for something.

“The name’s Williamsworth. Charles Williamsworth.” He said dramatically.

Ryan burst out laughing. “You support this one more then?”

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, he’s not in the mafia. His suspicious activities were in the name of secrecy, national secrets, confidential war trades. Espionage…”

“Well I guess, nobody’s gonna suspect the 95 year old man to be up to anything. I mean, if I saw an old man somewhere I’d just be like, huh I wonder who lost their grandpa, not ‘I bet he’s secretly working to take down Hitler.’ Y’know.”

“Charles gets caught: just ‘Whaa-at me~e? I’m just a gentle~e o~ ol~ld ma~an, I can’t harm nobody~y.” Shane mimed leaning over a cane.

“He gets caught and just pretends he has dementia, ‘Who am I? Who are you? Why am I here? Where’s my breakfast?”

Shane cackled as Ryan laughed.

Danny considered it more, this one seemed the most likely, though… he’d definitely be the oldest agent.

“Another theory is that the shop was robbed and Charles returned while or before it was happening, catching the criminals off guard and leading them to react rashly, injuring or killing Charles. They then would have hidden his body and cleaned out the shop to hide any other evidence.

This theory however is disproven by the lack of money taken from the register.

Despite this, it is the official claimed circumstance by the police at the time.”

“Fucking police, always with the boring one.” Shane said ruefully.

“Our last theory, and my personal favorite,-“

Shane groaned. Danny smiled, this was gonna be good.

“-is that Charles T Williamsworth was a time traveler. And that all of his disappearances were when he was traveling through time.

This theory supports his families early move to Switzerland under odd timing, his appearance in so many photos and even his obsession with clocks. As well as why he seemed unbothered by the tumultuous times.”

“I can… accept it.” Shane said, hesitant.

Ryan laughed, “I’ll take it.”

“Despite all of these theories, there is still significant information missing from the case.

And so, like clockwork this case shall remain:

Unsolved.”

Danny’s mouth dropped as the screen went dark.

No way.

No freaking way.

He lurched upwards, eyes wide.

Obsessed with clocks, scar on his eye, fricking weird and talks in riddles.

Oh mygod!

Danny threw himself out of bed, “I’ve connected the dots!” He rushed to untangle himself from his sheets, transforming immediately, “I’ve connected them!”

He dove for the ghost portal.

Holy frick!

Charles T. Williamsworth was Clockwork!

[holllandtrash]

last call | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

a one shot based on the song last call by jamie miller, i highly suggest listening to it 'Cause when it's last call I wanna be your first call I wanna be your ride home You're gonna be my downfall

word count: 7.4k tags/warnings: soft and sweet, alcohol consumption

Max Verstappen was a lot of things.

He was a world champion, for starters. A two-time world champion, a title he carried proudly. He was on his way to claim that title for the third time, but he didn’t let the arrogance or the ease of it get to his head, there was still work to do this season.

He was a son and a brother. He cared about his family more than the media would ever know, always painting him as some sort of villain on and off the track to which it got to the point that Max simply stopped trying to change people’s opinions. His family knew who he was, he didn’t need to make any adjustments for them.

He was a friend, and a damn good one if he said so himself. To be fair, it was difficult to see the mates he grew up with when his job took him around the world and back, but he never forgot his roots. He cherished any time he got to spend with those in his close circle. He had a rule too, no phones. If he was with his friends, nothing on his phone mattered. That was also why he was deemed ‘antisocial’ during any breaks, however long. God forbid he not take any photos of him having a good time to prove he knows how to have a good time.

Last but most certainly not least, on Friday and Saturday nights in Monaco, he was a chauffeur. 

Your chauffeur.

Neither of you were quite sure when this whole arrangement started, but did that really even matter?

Max pulled up alongside the curb of the club and sent you a text. A minute later you came walking out the doors, a grin plastered on your face as you said your goodbyes to your friends. 

As you walked around the front of the car, Max tried to not let his gaze linger on the way your skirt showcased the length of your legs and how in a matter of a seconds you’d be sitting next to him and he’d be thanking his lucky stars he drove a manual so he had a reason to keep his hand off of you.

You climbed into the passenger side of his car, the seat was already adjusted to your height. There was an unopened bottle of water in the cup holder. An artist you listened to was already quietly playing through the speakers. Even if Max didn’t get a heads up that you were going out tonight, he knew what to do when you called him.

He knew that if the seat was pushed back you would complain, jokingly. He knew that you’d ask if he had water somewhere in his car and he knew that you’d ask for help to connect your phone to Bluetooth, if it hadn’t already died. 

And while Max liked that routine, he also liked seeing your face light up when you realised you no longer needed to ask for anything. 

“Hi,” you turned in your chair to face him. You were smiling, but you had been smiling all night. Did you mean any of them in the last few hours? The answer was unknown, but you certainly meant it now. You took one look at Max and you couldn’t help but smile, it was your body’s natural reaction, just like how you turned to face him as soon as you sat down. 

“Fun night?” He asked. He always asked that, but you both knew he didn’t care about what you got up to inside the walls of the nightclub. If he cared, he would have joined you the number of times you politely asked him to when you saw him in passing when you left the flat. But Max just wasn’t a nightclub kind of person. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Yeah, Rina’s a bit of a handful, but it was fun.”

“You stayed out late,” Max pointed out, but not in a type of way you would expect a parent to discipline their kid. It was simply Max calling attention to the time, the same time as always. 

This was a habit you had fallen into, unintentionally. 

Wherever you were, whatever establishment, when their bartenders yelled for last call, you pulled out your phone and called Max. The call for the last round of drinks was your reminder that you needed to go home and luckily, there was someone who would pick you up, every time, without fail. 

It was convenient that you two lived in the same building. It may have been in passing that Max offered for you to ever call him if you needed something, but neither of you expected it to spiral into this. 

He was just being friendly. It was the neighbourly thing to do. 

Which is why you were hesitant the first time you called Max when you needed a ride home. But all of your friends had left you, you lost your credit card somewhere on the dance floor and in your state of mind, you were in no position to try and walk the streets of Monte Carlo alone. 

So you called him, apologising about a dozen times but through the line you heard him get up from bed with a quiet sigh. You heard the jingle of keys and it wasn’t long before you finally heard Max’s car roar to life and he told you he’d be there in ten minutes.

That pattern of sounds became music to your ears before you knew it. The faint grunt as he stood up, the keys twirling around his finger, his car turning on. 

Breath, keys, car. It was clockwork. It was something you pretty much expected at this point when you called him. 

And Max, well Max knew it was pointless to even lay down, but he did on the off chance you didn’t go out. You always went out. 

Max had a good heart. He wanted his friends to be safe and somehow, you had wormed your way into that layer of his life. You were one of his friends. And he would rather you call him every Friday night than have to wake up in the morning and not know if you got home at all.

It was convenient that he was home for the break. He was in Monaco. He could be there for you when you needed him, and he would be.

But that pegged the question, what did you do when he was away? When he was racing? When he was across the globe fighting for championship points, who did you call to pick you up at the end of the night?

Max never asked. In fact, the topic of his job never came up with you. You knew he was a Formula 1 driver, he mentioned it subtly, well he thought it was subtle, it really wasn't. And when you said “Oh yeah, my dad watches that. He likes Josef Newgarden,” Max bit his tongue so as to not tell you that your dad was referring to an IndyCar driver, a completely different series.

You knew very little about the sport. Even with Monaco being the pinnacle track of Formula 1, you never bothered to learn about it or keep up with it. Maybe that’s why Max found it so easy to talk to you in the first place. You never once saw him as a driver. You just saw him as your neighbour and on some nights, your chauffeur. 

So one could imagine his surprise when you brought up his career during that drive home.

“When do you go back?” You asked, slight hesitancy in your tone as this was not a topic you knew well, your vocabulary was limited. “To racing?”

“Two weeks,” Max answered. “It’ll be my home race.”

He pulled up to a red light and glanced at you, instantly recognising that the term home race was not one you were familiar with, but you nodded as though you did. 

“It’s in the Netherlands,” he further clarified. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you were reminded that he was Dutch. 

“That’ll be fun,” you added. 

Why was this awkward? Neither of you were usually ones for small talk. Usually you would get in the car and talk about the characters you saw that you knew he’d get a laugh at. You would be chatting his ear off, that was part of the routine. 

And tonight, you were struggling to fill the silence. Max couldn’t tell why. 

You knew why, however. 

It was because when you were out tonight, your friend Rina was whisked away by someone who asked to dance with her. She blushed, her cheeks and neck turning bright red before saying yes and taking his hand to lead her towards the dance floor.

You watched with amusement, happy for your friend, but there was that sinking feeling of jealousy settling in the pit of your stomach. Granted, the man she was dancing with was not your type. He was tall, too tall, with dark features, an arm of tattoos. Sure he seemed charming and he certainly knew how to dance, but you weren’t jealous he had chosen Rina instead of you.

You were jealous that your friend had someone to dance with. 

And you had been asked a few times by strangers to join them under the lights, but you turned down all of them. They weren’t people you wanted to spend your time with. They didn’t give you butterflies when you thought about the potential of starting something new with a stranger from the club.

No, you got those butterflies when you climbed into the passenger seat of Max’s car. They were faint, they came as fast as they went. They could have been mistaken for nausea if you weren’t certain you only had two drinks tonight.

But they were there.

Which led to your next thought, if Max ever asked you to dance, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

And you had been attracted to Max since the first day you saw him, basically, but you kept those feelings to yourself, even as they grew from a physical attraction to more.

Recently, however, they had been getting harder and harder to ignore.

So maybe that’s why you were struggling to move past this silence right now. You were suddenly looking at Max in a very different light. He was your friend, yes, but he had proven time and time again that he would show up for you, that he wouldn’t hesitate to pick you up no matter that hour. None of your other friends made that commitment to you. 

But you would never act on any of it. The thoughts, the feelings. Max had never once hinted that he was interested, he was just nice. He was wholesome, despite what you had heard in the media. He was just looking out for you.

So when he walked you to the door of your flat that evening, you said goodnight like you usually did and you headed inside.

You had no idea that Max lingered in the hallway for a minute, debating with himself whether or not he should knock on your door. He’d done it before, making up some excuse to talk to you for just another few minutes. 

Because the truth was, Max enjoyed the time he spent with you, even if it was limited to those car rides from the club to your apartment complex. He liked not knowing which version of you would climb into the passenger seat. While you were almost always talkative, there were times when all you wanted was a coffee at an ungodly hour. There were times when you were complaining about the people you met. There were times when you couldn’t stop laughing to the point that Max had to pull over because your laughter was angelic and contagious and he wasn’t about to risk getting into an accident because the two of you couldn’t contain yourselves.

Max liked the fact that you always called him at the end of the night. 

For some weird reason, he liked that you were thinking of him. It made him so unbelievably happy to know that when the bartender yelled for ‘last call’ at the end of the night, he was your first call. 

But those phone calls were only ever restricted to Friday and Saturday nights. And only when he was in Monaco. While you didn’t understand Formula 1, you must have followed it a bit to know when he wasn’t home. You never called him during a race weekend. 

Except that one night last year when he was in Austin. It was just after 2am in Monaco, but Max was sitting down and having dinner in his hotel room. For you, it was early Sunday morning. For him it was still Saturday.

And it was because you didn’t recognise the pattern, you didn’t hear the breath, the keys, the car, you instantly knew that this was a weekend where he was away. He was working, racing, whatever he wanted to call it.

“Oh fuck,” you blurted out before Max could say anything. Your exclamation was met with a hefty laugh. He wasn’t annoyed in any means that you had called him while he was away, just a bit surprised is all. 

“I can order you an uber,” He instantly offered. You heard the sound of him shifting on the bed and his voice then echoed as it bounced off the walls of his hotel room, like he turned on the speakerphone, like he was already looking for the app to order you an uber from halfway across the world. 

“I can do that myself,” you argued. 

The line was silent for a moment. You were both thinking the same thing. Why didn’t you just always call an uber? Why did you always rely on Max to drive you home? 

Neither of you voiced that question. You had your own answers, but if they didn’t match up then that would lead to an entirely different conversation, one that you could do without, one that had the risk of ruining whatever sort of pattern you had fallen into.

“You okay? Did you have a fun night?” Max moved on, not wanting to think about how you were probably ordering that car for yourself. If he was in Monaco right now, he’d already be in the elevator down to the parking garage. 

“Yeah, it was good,” your words slurred together. Not enough to alarm Max, but he knew you. He knew that the more you drank, the more honest you were. 

You proved that point about two seconds later.

“Honestly, Jordan’s just fucking annoying,” you sighed. Max could picture you running your hands through your hair, you did that often, but especially when something was eating at you and right now, it was your friend Rina’s boyfriend. Boyfriend? Boy toy? Ex? Max tried to keep up, but there was a new label every week. It’d be easier to stay up to date with your life and the ‘drama’ that circled it if you saw him more than once or twice a weekend, but he wasn’t about to put that thought in your head and potentially scare you off. What you had was fine. The late night calls, the last calls turned first calls was fine.

“What happened now?” Max asked. 

“Well we literally told him not to come out, Rina’s still pissed after what he did last week- oh shit, hang on.”

While you searched for what Max could only assume was a credit card or your lip gloss or something that should have fallen out of your pockets by now, he thought back to what Jordan did last week. 

You sighed heavily into the receiver, “...what was I saying?”

“Rina’s still mad,” Max reminded you. “She hasn’t forgiven him for getting drunk at her parents anniversary dinner?”

You laughed, “God you have a better memory than me. I had to ask Rina why we were giving him the cold shoulder tonight.”

Point for Max. 

Why did this little victory mean so much to him?

“Anyway, he tried to make it up to her tonight by buying all of her drinks but then his card declined like an hour in, who lives in fucking Monte Carlo and can’t afford drinks? He’s a fake, is what he is and Rina deserves so much better. I have a theory he’s-”

“That he's from Nice,” Max finished with his own chuckle. “Want me to hire a P.I. to look into it?”

There was a pause and then a very serious, “Can you actually do that?”

“I could but I was joking,” Max said. He could picture your pouty bottom lip. It was a good thing you weren’t actually with him. He probably would have given in and found a private investigator within an hour. 

“Oh I think my uber- yeah that’s it,” you said, more to yourself than to him as your voice trailed off at the end. “I’m sorry for calling. I knew you were in Austin, I just- I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Max told you. “You don’t ever need to apologise for calling me. You know that if I was home I’d come pick you up, right?”

A faint inhale, one that held so many feelings that your words could never express, “I know.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will,” you assured him. “And good luck today. Or- tomorrow, I guess. I know you’ll kill it.”

This was how Max knew you weren’t keeping up with Formula 1. He had officially claimed his second world championship title last weekend in Japan. He could quite literally sit out of the remaining races and still hold enough points to safely stand at the top of the driver standings. 

But he wasn’t going to tell you that because he knew you’d instantly feel bad for not knowing, for not congratulating him. In your head, the championship fight went until the end of the season and typically it would, but this year was different for Max. 

Max just said thank you and you both hung up. You climbed into the backseat of an uber where there was no water waiting for you and you didn’t dare ask for the driver to play Harry Styles. Max laid back on his bed, pushing his tray of room service aside as he stared up at the hotel ceiling. 

When he returned that following Monday, Max was surprised to see dark blue streamers hanging on the outside of his door. There was a card shoved halfway underneath the door and he opened it up, looking at the delicate handwriting that read ‘heard you’re a world champion or whatever, let me know if you want to celebrate, I don’t mind picking you up for a change’. 

Max laughed as he read the card. It was very you. You didn’t give two shits about the driver championship and Max loved that. He loved that you found reasons to be his friend outside from the fact that he was a Formula 1 driver. You didn’t care that his name came with power, wealth, fame, but you still showed your support with the little you knew about racing. You were a good friend to him.

And that’s what it was. Friendship. Why else would you have written, ‘I don't mind picking you up for a change’? You weren’t offering to celebrate with him, you were offering to be the designated driver after he went out with his group of friends, the friends that did care about his career. 

Max would have gone out and celebrated with you. He would have said yes in a heartbeat, if you asked.

But you didn't. The closest that you came to going out with him was when you politely invited him to join you on your evenings out with your close circle, but Max was an afterthought. You never knocked on his door and invited him out, it was only if you passed him in the hallway or if the elevator doors opened and he was standing on the other side.

And Max said the same thing every time. ‘Nah, you have fun. Let me know if you need a ride home.’ 

Max thought you were just being friendly, neighbourly, but the truth was, you were waiting for the day where he said ‘Yeah, why not?’. 

You never went out of your way to ask him out because of the rejection you had received in passing. How embarrassing would it be if you knocked on his door only to be met with the same rejection? To see the look of pity on his face as the door slowly shut. 

There was a lot of uncertainty when it came to how you saw him or how he saw you and the only thing that was certain, was that you were friends. 

So that’s why Max didn’t knock on your door now and make up some excuse about how you left his lip gloss in his car. He returned to his room and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his flat at 2:30 in the morning, something he had gotten quite used to, until sleep took over as he was thinking about how maybe next time, maybe next Friday, he’ll make a proper move.

But a wrench was thrown into his plans when your name lit up his phone screen a few days later. It wasn’t weird that you were calling him, what he couldn’t understand was why. It was a little after three on a Wednesday. Your conversations, the phone calls, the late night drives, they were confined to weekends.

Max answered though, maybe you left work early and accidentally drank too many sangrias on a patio. He’d pick you up, of course, this was just very unlike your pattern.

He expected to hear the slurring of words. He could understand drunk you enough to piece together what you were saying.

But the sharp inhale through your words, this was new. It was clear you were actively trying to not cry into the phone, trying to hold yourself together but Max heard it as your meek ‘hi’ came through the receiver.

And god did it break him. 

“Where are you?” Max asked, already sliding his shoes on practically sprinting towards the elevator. Of course it was stuck on the main floor. No matter how many times he pressed the button, that steel boxed moved too damn slowly for his own good.

“Horizon,” you sniffed. Max recognized that restaurant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know who to call. Can you-”

“I’m already on the way.”

It wasn’t far. Max pulled up outside the restaurant in under ten minutes. You were sitting on a bench, dark shades covering your eyes but Max caught the way you raised your hand to wipe your cheeks before climbing into the car. 

He didn’t even think to grab tissues before leaving his flat, but he had a feeling you would just deny them anyway. If he knew anything about you, he knew you weren’t one to cry. You had a very hard exterior, you felt things deeply, but you didn’t cry. Not in front of other people.

“Can we just- I don’t know, can we just drive for a bit?” you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. This wasn’t like you and Max would do anything to see the light in your eyes, to see your bright smile that made getting out of bed at 2 in morning worth it every time.

Max nodded, getting the idea that you didn’t want to talk. Or if you did, it would be on your own accord. You crossed one leg over the other and Max glanced at the beige romper you wore. He didn’t point out the dark red stain on your hem, but you rubbing at it was certainly not going to get it out. He could only assume it was wine? Did you spill wine on yourself at lunch? Who were you even out for lunch with?

And then he noticed you playing with the ring on your middle finger, again this wasn’t like you. You didn’t fidget and if you did, you’d play with the strands of your hair. 

Max had seen you drunk, he’d seen you a few drinks in, he’d seen you sober. 

He’d never seen you so upset over something before, though. The silence in the car was heavy. Whatever was on your mind, he wished there was a way for him to take some of the weight off of you. 

He wasn’t travelling in any particular direction, just aimlessly around Monaco, but after the seconds turned to minutes, Max saw you visibly relax against the seat of his car.

“Do you know what I do?” You asked him, pulling your sunglasses off. 

You both turned your faces towards each other. Faint mascara smudges stained the corner of your eyes. Your cheeks were still rosy, your jaw was clenched in anticipation of the rest of the conversation. This wasn’t the you that Max was used to, but it was a version of you he wanted to get to know. He wanted to know every side of you, even the sides you tried to hide behind sunglasses and spilled wine and choked back tears.

“Job wise?” Max asked for clarification. “Yeah, you’re ah- an environmental consultant? Right?”

You were a little impressed that he knew, but to be fair, you’ve had hundreds of conversations with Max and you weren’t sober for all of them. The discussion of jobs probably slipped your mind.

“I like my job,” you stated.

“Good. That’s important.”

“So why do I feel stuck?”

Max licked his lower lip, “Elaborate.”

“I’ve been doing the same thing since I graduated,” you told him, looking out the window again. Slowly, the Monte Carlo skyline was disappearing into the side mirrors. “And I like it, I do. I like the company I work for. I like the people I work with, but why does it feel like that’s the only thing I have going for me in life right now?”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Max sighed, but if he was being honest, he had no idea. What he knew about you was minimal and it killed him.

You nodded, but it was just out of politeness so as to not argue that he was wrong. 

A few more minutes passed before you inhaled the heaviest breath your lungs could take.

“My sister’s engaged. Rina’s moving to Milan at the end of the summer. My brother travels for a living and I just- I’m not doing anything.”

So that’s what this was about. Max was smart, he could put the pieces together. You talked about your siblings a bit, but you never mentioned your sister getting married before. The way you were looking down at your hand throughout this drive told Max that this late lunch was you meeting your sister so she could announce the good news.

And something as big as that would undoubtedly send someone spiralling, making them question their own life choices, the path they were on. As long as Max has known you, you’ve had the same job, same friends, no partner. 

Your best friend moving was not new either, you had excitedly told Max about her job offer a few weeks back, but maybe it was just sinking in now. Everyone around you was moving onto bigger and better things and you were, as you put it, stuck. 

“I think I need a change of scenery,” you admitted quietly. 

Which was not what Max wanted to hear.

Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave Monaco. Even though he was the one who was gone so many weeks out of the year for the races, he liked knowing you would always be there when he returned home. That you were just down the hall. 

Before Max could try and talk you out of moving, you reached across the centre console and put your hand over his, the one that rested on the gear stick. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, Max knew you to be a little handsy when you were drinking, but you seemed to be sober this time. 

“I’m sorry for calling you,” you said, even though you really didn’t need to apologise. “I didn’t know who else to call and I just, I needed to breathe.”

Max found comfort in that. 

That he was someone you could clear your head with, that you didn’t need to put on an act around him. In a way, you trusted him. You must have if he was your first call after your sister dropped a bombshell.

When the two of you found your way back to the apartment complex, Max walked you to the door like he always did. Your flushed cheeks had returned to its normal colour. Your eyes no longer looked glossed over. And the smile you gave him seemed genuine.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open and something in Max screamed now or never and before he knew it, he was reaching for your hand to keep you from going inside. He pulled you back to face him and the expression you wore was unreadable. 

Max froze. 

Something that he never did.

He was always calm and collected, always ahead of his thoughts, always knew what to do and when to do it. 

But that was thanks to his training and his training only prepared him for driving at ridiculous speeds and navigating dozens of race tracks and thinking on his feet in tough situations while he sat behind the wheel of an F1 car.

His training didn’t prepare him for how stunned he would feel as he met your eyes, grabbing your attention for the first time outside the safety net of his regular car.

Whatever Max wanted to say, it had now vanished and he had no choice but to rely on the words that he had told you many times before.

“You know you don’t need to apologise for calling me, right?” Max said, his hand falling from yours. 

“I know,” a faint breath of laughter followed your assurance. 

“And for the record-” Max paused. “I don’t think you’re stuck. I think you’re right where you need to be.”

Max’s words stayed with you for the next few days. In fact, they were all you could think about, even when you met Rina Saturday night at your usual spot. She had ordered you a drink, she was a few in herself already and you had barely taken a sip when she brought up the idea of you moving to Milan with her.

You almost spit out the cocktail, “I- what? Move with you? Rina, my job’s here.”

“Yeah but you’re so experienced, I’m sure you could find another one in Milan,” Rina stuck out her lower lip. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do without my best friend.”

While you might have contemplated moving a few days ago, you weren’t sure you were really ready to leave Monaco. This was your home, you loved it here. Despite what you said to Max about feeling stuck, his words were burned into your mind.

You weren’t stuck. You had no reason to leave. You wanted to be here. 

You just had a momentary lapse of judgement. 

“I’m not moving, Rina,” you sighed, connecting your hand with hers. “But I’ll visit and you can too. I’m still your best friend, even if we’re in different countries.”

She knew better than to plead her case any more, deciding that spending the night drinking and dancing was more fun than thinking about her upcoming move. 

And before you knew it, the DJ made an announcement for the last call at the bar and you were pulling out your phone to call Max.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Rina said, or rather, yelled, as the music was still blaring. She saw his contact on your screen, she saw the way the corner of your lips were pulled upwards when you thought about being with him shortly. 

“Because I don’t feel anything,” you shouted back. It was a lie. A bold faced lie that your friend saw right through but didn’t push you any more on it. 

She walked with you to the curb. Max rolled down the window and waved to her, offering her a ride as well. But Rina denied it, she knew this was your time to be with Max. 

“Get home safe, I love you,” you called out, hand gripping the handle of the passenger side door. Rina blew you a kiss and then you climbed in. 

Max reached into the backseat and grabbed the bottle of water he had tossed there when he left his apartment. He waited until taking a sip before asking if you had a fun night.

“Yeah, Rina asked me to move to Milan with her,” you answered, wiping the corner of your mouth. You looked at Max expectantly, trying to gauge what his answer would be. Surely the man who told you that you were in the right place wasn’t going to encourage you to move.

Max just hummed and put the car into drive. He waited until you were a few minutes away from the club to say anything, as if seeing Rina standing on the sidewalk in the rearview mirror was somehow going to make this conversation harder.

“What did you-” Max stopped himself and chose something else to say, “You’re not moving, though. Right?”

And then you saw it. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concern. The way his hand clenched over the gear lever. The way his jaw tightened as he fought with himself before asking if you were in fact leaving.

Max didn’t want you to go. 

That thought alone made your stomach turn in knots, but not the kind you felt when you were sick. You were most definitely not sick, you could have been floating on cloud 9 when you realised Max wanted you to stay in Monaco.

“Are you kidding?” You retorted, feeling a burst of confidence. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you had been drunk before and never once tried flirting. No time like the present. “Think of how inconvenient it would be for you to drive to Milan every time I go clubbing.”

Max chuckled, his features softening as the lines around his lips made an appearance. God you loved his smile. 

“Oh so you’re staying for my sake? Well that’s- that’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

He stopped at a red light and turned to you. The heavy weight that was lingering on his shoulders when you mentioned moving had disappeared instantly. You weren’t going anywhere. You would still be here when Max returned from his races. You’d be here during the break. You’d be here, calling his phone on those Friday and Saturday nights when you needed a ride home.

“Can I ask you something?” Max spoke quietly, waiting until you nodded before getting something off his mind that had been there since this whole driving arrangement started. “Who do you call when I’m not in Monaco?”

Your smile was soft as the corner of your lips were tugged upwards. Max, if he wanted to, could have convinced himself it was the alcohol that caused you to be all smiley, but he also wanted to believe he had something to do with it. 

Dropping your gaze for a moment, you parted your lips, closed them again, and then took a breath as Max waited for your response.

“Max, I don’t go out when you’re not in Monaco.”

He was thinking he didn’t hear you correctly. Maybe you said you called some guy named Marco. That made more sense. You called a back-up rather than put your evening social life on pause while he was away.

He needed clarification, “What?”

You laughed this time, looking out the windshield. The traffic light was still red, but Max didn’t need to rely on the soft glow of the street light to make out the shade of pink that was climbing up your neck and cheeks.

“I don’t go out clubbing when you’re not in Monaco,” you repeated. He had heard you correctly.

Max wasn’t sure what to think. 

He felt like an idiot, for starters. If he had known you wanted to see him, to spend time with him, he would have put an effort in to join you during your nights out. Or better yet, maybe he would have asked you on a date. 

But he was clueless. He didn’t know that you relied on those calls at the end of the night because you were too shy to actually ask him out like a normal person would. You were too afraid of stepping outside of this pattern you both fell into because what if it didn’t work out?

Now it was all out in the open. The only reason you went out as much as you did when he was home was because you used it as an excuse to call him, to see him. 

The blaring of a horn from the car behind him caused Max to shift gears, quite literally and metaphorically. He took off, having missed the light turn green, and his attention went back to the road. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at you, he did. He very much wanted to continue this conversation but he was at a loss for words. 

The silence only grew during the drive back to your building. In the corner of his eye, he could see you shifting in the seat. You kept turning your phone on and off, hoping there would be texts to distract you from this hush that had fallen over the car. You were overthinking everything now, did you say the wrong thing? Would it have been better if you didn’t say anything?

Max too was overthinking everything. Had he misread signs you had tried to give him? Was he now making things worse by not acknowledging what you had said? With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable as you sat in anticipation for what sort of conversation was going to come next.

When Max finally pulled into the parking garage underneath the building, you couldn’t have reached for the door handle faster. You wanted to go inside, to forget you had said anything. God you even debated deleting his number from your phone so you didn’t risk calling him again the next time you went out.

But Max was quick too. 

He knew he had to do something to make up for how painful this car ride was, something that showed you he was on the same page as you, that he too looked forward to the moments he was home just so he could wait for your phone call.

He stepped out of the car when you did, walking around the front instead of heading towards the elevator. You kept your eyes down, planning on just walking right past him, and you would have, had Max not grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you into his body.

His fingers moved from your hand to your waist as his other hand cupped the side of your face and you finally looked at him for the first time since you got into the car. 

Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words, but that didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like you had time to say anything before Max took that leap, crossed the line, and pressed his lips to yours. 

And it was everything you had been waiting for. 

Max leaned against the hood of his car as you slid your hand up his shirt, grabbing the thin material as you wasted no time in kissing him back. His mouth was tender and soft as it moved against yours, both of you feeling the same intensity that had been building up for weeks, maybe even months now. 

It took everything in Max to not drag you back into the car and pull you on his lap in the driver's seat, an image that he had painted in his head a while ago. Instead, his grip on your waist just tightened, holding you against his chest the way he had been wanting to for a while now.

Your nose brushed against his when you pulled back, your gaze lingered on his lips before finally darting upwards. 

The parking garage was quiet, there was a low hum that came from the pipes above you. The overhead lights did nothing to set any sort of mood, but you couldn’t imagine a better place to share a first kiss with Max.

You weren’t in the safety of his car, a place that had become so comfortable to you. By waiting until you stepped out, by stopping you from walking to the elevator, Max was showing you that this was something he wanted and he wanted it when the car ride was over. He wanted it before you called him, before you went out for the night, before the weekend even started. 

He relaxed against the hood of his car, both of you sharing similar looks of serenity. There was no more confusion, no more wavering uncertainty. 

His fingers brushed through your hair before bringing your lips to his once more. 

And then there it was, that smile of yours that made getting into his car two in the morning so fucking worth it.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Max asked. He now knew the answer wouldn’t be going out with friends, that was reserved for when he was home.

You shrugged, “I’m not sure, why?”

“Well you said you wanted a change of scenery, right?” Max recalled your conversation from earlier this week. “How about the Netherlands?”

“You want me to come to a race?” You were probably the last person who should be invited to a Grand Prix and Max knew this, he even laughed at your doubtful response. 

“I really do,” he said. 

“I don’t know anything about Formula 1.”

Max rubbed his thumb over your side, the simple gesture was enough to have your body curving against his once more. 

“I have all of next week to give you a crash course,” he pointed out. “If you’re interested.” 

And of course you were. There’s nothing else you wanted more than to spend your evenings with Max, to learn more about his career, to learn about him. When your lips curved upwards into another smile, Max knew you were on board. 

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You go out with me the next weekend you’re in Monaco.”

Max dipped his head back and laughed. You rested your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling his face back to yours. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” he chuckled. “And I will, but we’ll be leaving before last call.”

“That’s fine with me as long as you still take me home,” you pressed your lips together tightly, trying to contain your eagerness for the night that was still far in the future. Max brushed his thumb over your lower lip. He too was thinking ahead. 

Not just to that upcoming weekend, but every weekend after and all of the days inbetween. 

Coming home to Monaco was always something he looked forward to, but now he had even more of a reason to anticipate the breaks between races. You two didn’t have to wait until a Friday evening to see each other anymore. 

He didn’t have to be your first call at the end of the night, but you both knew he still would be, and so much more. 

He’d be your first call when you got home from work and you’d be his when he landed in a new country. You’d be the first person to call him after watching his winning performance of a race and likewise, you’d be the first person he wanted to talk to, the first person he wanted to celebrate with.

There’d be a lot of firsts moving forward, but you didn’t need to wait until last call anymore. 

masterlist here

this was mostly for @tsarinablogs and @estevries

[nabwastaken]

so i convinced my brother to watch npmd

for context, he's the one who got me into starkid in the first place, but was never a big fan of it as a whole (we watched avpm a couple years back, and he watched twisted and tgwdlm himself)

so he's like. a casual fan. he's not in the hatchetfield hyperfixation hell i'm in, having only seen tgwdlm a few years back and not watching nmt or bf

suffice to say, he liked it!

highlights of the night include:

Him simping over Steph immediately as the show started

Me explaining different running gags that got brought up

Him commenting and cringing on the show's portrayal of teens which.. yeah

Him saying that Dirty Girl was more awkward then sexy (but being freaked out nonetheless)

Him calling out that Grace would be the murderer right away, but thankfully that thought went away as soon as Max died

At the part right before the Max death scene, he commented "oh this is so sweet" and then Max. You know.

During Go Go Nighthawks, I very loudly yelled out "FUCK CLIVESDALE". Later on when Grace tries to frame the Chemists my dear brother also said "Yeah, fuck clivesdale!" confirming he is one of us now

He knows about my obsession with Dan and Donna, and witnessed my very audible reaction when they showed up the first time to report on Max's disappearance

After the scene I say they showed up later on and during the interrogation scene in the principal's office he said "When will Dan and Donna show up again?"

Of course, they did show up again for Hatchet Town, leading to me having the same reaction AGAIN, which lead him to commenting "They're not canon, right?" Which. OW.

When Dan came on and said, "I am Dan Reynolds" I pointed at him and said "There he is! My guy! He is Dan Reynolds!" all while my brother just awkwardly nodded along

Me singing all the parts in Hatchet Town

Me explaining the cameos in Hatchet Town

After Hatchet Town I continued to freak out over Dan and Donna and continuingly reiterated the point that I ship them and I love them all while my brother was like "Yeah. Yep."

During the Barbecue Monologues, he says "Is this a reference to the Vagina Monologues?"

I commented on how a lot of people said that Just For Once gives them Falsettos vibes, and my brother LOVES Falsettos so he was immediately like "okay yeah yeah i get it go onto the song"

Him saying "Oh this is depressing" towards the end of Just For Once

Him freaking out when Paul and Emma arrived (they're the only characters he recognized)

Him also freaking out over If I Loved You, with him saying it was his favorite song in the show

In the scene in the forest where Max throws Miss Mulberry's decapitated "head" my brother said "That's Chappell Roan" and now I can't unsee it.

Him being terrified during The Summoning (later on he said "those weird god things scared me")

Him pointing at Blinky and saying "That's Chappell Roan"

The look of dread on his face when he realizes Steph would have to kill Pete

Me continuingly hammering in the point that "Steph and Pete will die" and then him being like "Why couldn't Grace give something up, huh??" and then me responding, pretending not to laugh, "What's she gonna give up? Her dad?" and then he responded "Yeah, her gay dad" (for context, earlier on during the chasity's scene i mentioned most people thinking Mark was gay)

Him just being absolutely depressed during CAITA reprise

AND THEN the look on his face when Max came in and caught the bullet with him continuingly asking and reiterating "So they're not gonna die?"

The shock and horror on his face when Grace and Max did it on the football field

Me telling him that Best of You was the ending number

AND THEN his jaw dropping when Grace pulled out the book and started singing dirty dudes must die. later on he said "it gagged him"

[m1ssunderstanding]

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

[ruizpizzaria]

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

[ramons-elevator]

Im sorry, but I cant stop thinking about Ramon and Fit's conversation today. A mixture of a summary and analysis below:

Ramon tried to get Phil to talk about Fit and Pac, but Phil misinterpreted it as asking about something else. Then Ramon got frustrated and started to dig a hole to blow up TnT in.

Fit went down and tried to talk to Ramon, only for him to get more frustrated and blow everything up. Then when Fit realized it was about Pac, he tried to tell Ramon to be patient.

That made Ramon lose it. He started "yelling" at Fit that he knows him. He experienced it first hand of Fit saying he needs time to learn create, only to learn a lot in a short amount of time. Yeah, Fit needs time, but if he puts his mind to something he can do it.

Ramon then said how basically he doesnt know if he will even survive long enough to see Fit and Pac do anything. He just came back from being kidnapped the third time. Hell, Dapper has been kidnapped 5 times.

Ramon knows his life and his family can be ripped away in seconds. He knows his life is precious and wants to experience as much of Fit's life as he can. He saw what happened to Bobby. Bobby died and then Roier and Cellbit proposed and got married. What if Ramon gets the same fate Bobby did?

Then when Fit tried to say that its tricky, Ramon gets frustrated and starts putting down TnT which obviously get Fit's attention. Fit get Ramon to stop and listen to him.

Fit reminds Ramon about his mission. The mission that basically holds Fit's life on a string. He tells Ramon that he doesnt want Pac to get involved in it because Pac doesnt deserve that. Fit has seen Pac in prison, escape Prison, get kidnapped, have his best friend get kidnapped, have his son get kidnapped, etc. Fit know this can be dangerous and doesnt want Pac to deal with that again. (also confesses he likes Pac but anyways)

Then Ramon pulls out this fucking line

"Dont you think a person that loves you would do anything for you?" "I would do anything"

Now this fucking breaks me. Because this is Ramon.

Ramon, who gave his only weapon to Max so Max could save his siblings. Ramon, who said he would do whatever Fit needs if it means completing his mission. The kid who trusts Fit no matter what and no matter what the cost. The boy who saved his siblings and family from an explosion that could have kill them. The kid who left his house and ran away with his siblings because he thought that Fit was in danger.

Ramon would do anything for Fit and Fit would do anything for Ramon. They are each other's halves. They complete each other.

And if there's a chance that Fit can be happy and loved just as much as Ramon loves him, then of course he wants Fit to take that opportunity. He doesnt want Fit to be alone. He doesnt want Fit to deal with all his trauma and problems alone. Yeah, Fit has his friends, but things happen.

Ramon then says that he knows theres a chance he might disappear again and that he wants someone who look after Fit if he isnt there. Ramon protects Fit as much as Fit protects him. If Ramon knew that there was someone to take care of Fit when he cant, he could be happy.

I could scream about these two all day. This conversation just showcases how much Ramon loves Fit, just as much as Fit loves Ramon. They want each other to be happy no matter what. Theres nothing the other would do. And if that means Ramon shoving Fit into Pac's arms then so be it.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Hello Limbus Gamers

Why did I title this post that.

Anyway, yeah, it's that time again. I'm gonna analyze the RR4 trailer. Some of you may be asking why, but. You'll see.

Oh boy you'll see.

Starting off, we get a very brief animation of the nodes of the new Railway. And by brief, I do mean, this shit speeds past you like instantly.

They even make sure to not show the whole thing all at once to make it harder to count. I did count though. There are thirteen of these nodes in this animation. This might be subject to change, but we shall see.

Then we get the title card. We're back to single word Railway names from before RR3, and in the background we get to see some silhouettes. We're gonna learn what they are during the trailer itself, but you can already tell they're the abnos from the Battle Pass E.G.O - Dreaming Electric Sheep, The King in Binds, and Portrait of a Certain Day.

We also see silhouettes of some Sinners, and while it's hard to make out with the text in the way, I'm pretty sure there's N Corp Don, N Corp Faust, and BL Yi Sang in there.

Now THIS is interesting - a new Railway gimmick! Not just one gimmick though, but after throwing the screenshot into Google Translate, it turns out we might be dealing with two!

First, the one that doesn't need translating to figure out - the Backup gimmick. I believe it's shown a bit clearer in the next scene, so I won't be speculating on it too much yet, but from my guess it's a replacement for a similar mechanic in RR3, where you could throw another team of Sinners at an Abnormality after your initial team of 6 died to finish the Abno off from where you left it at.

That's not the most interesting part though, this is.

Our Sinners are also going to be recieving individual buffs in this Railway, potentially based on selection order, considering PM has been pushing more and more for the selection order to matter with the recent addition to the E.G.O Gifts.

If I'm correct and the buffs are based on selection order instead of being completely random, we can see the buffs are as follows:

Selection 1 - Identity Level +2

Selection 2 - SP Gain Efficiency +3

Selection 3 - too blurry for google to translate

Selection 4 - Defense Level +2

Selection 5 - Max Speed +2 (the 5 came from the semi-transparent level 45 number lmao)

Selection 6 - too blurry for google to translate

Selection 7 - Final Power +1

Selection 8 - Damage taken -10%

Selection 9 - this one i'm not too sure on but it might be Aggro +5 (the 45 came from the semi-transparent level 45 number lmao)

Selection 10 - scene cuts away too quickly to read it

In addition to that, some IDs (primarily the Backup selections but also for some reason Faust) get a head start of +10 SP when they join the fight, which is a very nice way to help off-set the issue of having to gain sanity in harder fights to even attempt winning clashes.

Next scene shows us what seems to be the Backup mechanic. It's an admittedly very brief shot that barely shows us anything of how it works, but considering everyone's low sanity and Ishmael's stagger, I'm guessing what happened is two units died and the backup units were put in there in their stead.

An interesting gimmick that honestly feels more lore-accurate than the current system LMAO.

Next up, we get our excerpts from the new Abno Logs. This one, based on the background, is for Portrait of a Certain Day. It's a bit hard to tell who wrote this Log based on the English translation, but it does give an interesting insight onto the Abnormality and by extention its E.G.O, Bygone Days.

Something about taking advantage of deaths through parading mementos of the dead in connection to Yi Sang and Gregor, huh... Gregor is the one who gave Aya's mask to Yuri as a memento, and then proceeded to keep that mask as a memento of Yuri. On the other hand, while Yi Sang personally didn't keep mementos of the League around, both Dongbaek and Dongrang had a strong emotional attachment to the last remaining picture of the League all together. There's something there I think.

Then we get to see the excerpt from Dreaming Electric Sheep's Abno Log. Again, not very clear who's writing this from the English translation. And this is a very interesting excerpt too! This is the clearest connection we get between the Abno and the 'Dreaming' part of its name! I feel like I'd need to see the whole Log to get a better idea of what is being conveyed here, but it is good to see we're getting to see some new angles on the Abno.

BIG SHEEP! It's notable that it's attacking Faust.

And there's Portrait, in all its low bitrate glory! Note that it's attacking Yi Sang.

What follows is two more shots, one of each of the Abnos, and then...

It might hard to see in that glorious 240p low bitrate, but yes. That is, in fact, N Corp Don and N Corp Faust, covered in a purple glow, attacking the Sinners.

And then, the bombshell.

Guys.

Guys.

These are Envy Peccatula.

Envy Peccatula are doppelgangers.

DO YOU REALIZE HOW HUGE THIS IS FOR SIN ANALYSIS??? Envy is one of those sins we got barely anything on due to its lack of Peccatula, and yet here we are, RR4 gave us a fucking blessing.

Anyway, back to talking about the actual fights themselves, I believe we're going to be dealing with faction-themed Envy Peccatula stages. The one we see in the trailer is N Corp, complete with a relevant background, and in the in the title card we can see Blade Lineage Yi Sang, implying we could get a BL-themed node as well. Notably, these are both factions that have enough IDs to form a full team.

The only other full team ID factions we have are W Corp and Liu Association, so these are also contenders for Envy Peccatula nodes. Seven Association is also possible, as they are only missing one ID from being a full six ID team. We could also potentially get a fraud Pequod Trio that's made up of the Pequod IDs, which would be really funny, but I'm not sure how likely that is.

Back to the trailer itself.

We finally get the Abno Log excerpt for The King in Binds, and it's very evocative in my opinion. The poetic language makes me think that Yi Sang is the one writing this Log.

This seems like an excerpt that's being used to describe a game mechanic - The King in Binds might have a mechanic where he tears himself free from his throne if certain conditions are met. Very interesting considering what we know about the abno.

What follows is some extremely quick and hard to see snippits of The King in Binds attacking Yi Sang. Yes, this is the best frame I could get from it.

Aaaand that's about it!

All in all, extremely excited about the potential Envy lore and fighting against out own units, and I guess the abnos are there too.

[mellifiedprincess]

here’s another jack fic, because i’m a wee bit obsessed. This is literally just straight up the sweetest fluff ever. CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SCREAM V1!!!

Jack Champion x reader

EMOTIONALLY UNWELL

You weren’t sure why you were feeling the way you were feeling. Maybe it was the stress from work, maybe it was the fact that all of your friends suddenly wanted nothing to do with you, or maybe it was all of that and that Jack left for the gym hours ago, and all you wanted was to be cuddled up with him.

You laid on the couch, swaddled in the fluffiest blanket you own, with one of Jacks hoodies on. You had decided to have a Scream marathon, just you and your sweet angel Butters, who had decided to abandon your pity party about 30 minutes ago.

You were in the middle of Scream 5, when your favorite character Dewey dies. You’ve seen this movie probably close to 100 times, so why only now do you find yourself crying your eyes out, as you watch Gale scream for Dewey. Which then got you thinking about Jack in Scream VI. Yeah sure he was a psycho killer, but you still didn’t like seeing him die. He’s your angel face sweetheart, after all.

That was your breaking point. You grab your phone, clicking on Jacks contact. After two rings, he picks up, slightly out of breath. “Hey sweetheart, I was just finishing up here.” His voice calming you already.

“Oh, okay.” You pause for a moment, clearing your voice to hide the emotion. You figure telling him how much you need his undivided attention because you’re very emotional, would cause nothing but panic. And he did say he was finishing up. So, you said the first thing that came to mind, “I just wanted to know if you wanted to cook for dinner, or grab something on your way back home?” You can FEEL him perk up, already knowing what he’d rather do.

“Angel, c’mon, you know I’d rather cook dinner with you. Give me like 10 more minutes here, and I’ll be on my way home.” A relieved sigh escapes past your lips. “Okay! Just please be quick Jack. You always say 10 more minutes, and then it turns into, “5 more reps babe!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love you sweets. I’ll be home in like 30 minutes max.” Knowing that probably wouldn’t happen, you roll your eyes. “Okay, I love you too!” Hanging up the phone, you stand and make your way to find Butters. If Jack was gonna be gone longer, you had to get the next best thing. You soon find Butters cuddled into Jacks pillow on your shared bed. Snapping a quick picture because of how cute he looks, you scoop him into your arms and fall on to your bed.

As soon as your head hits Jacks pillow, you can’t help but snuggle your face into it even more. His scent gently taking over your senses. It was calming for a few seconds, until you started thinking about how he tucks you right in under his chin, and the soft rise and fall of his chest against your cheek.

You missed him. All you wanted was him, and you realized very quickly, nothing was going to help you except for him. He was the absolute only thing that ever made you feel safe.

More tears came rushing down your face, a sob falling from your lips. “What the fuck is wrong with me today?” You ask yourself. Butters gives you his signature side eye, before jumping out of your arms, and once again leaving you alone.

And then you hear your front door open.

Jumping up, not caring at all how tears are still streaming down your face, you run down stairs and straight to the kitchen. You knew that’s immediately where he would go. And you were right, you were always right about Jack.

His back was facing you as you walked in, and as soon as you reached him, you squeezed yourself between him and the counter. “Oh, hey baby!” His hand comes up to your back, and he leans down to press a kiss to your hairline.

After a few minutes, he finally takes a good look at you. “Hey what’s wrong?” You were clinging to him by this point, not daring to let go. Your cheeks still had tears streaming down them, and your poor eyes. All swollen and bloodshot. He grabbed you by the waist and put you on the counter to get a better look at you. “What happened sweet girl?”

And that’s when it all came crumbling down.

“You were gone for forever today! Work was absolutely horrible this morning, Maya and Blake want nothing to do with me for some reason. Butters, our sweet angel, keeps giving me bombastic side eye. AND on top of all of that, I keep thinking about how you die in Scream and it’s making me really sad.” He can’t help but laugh. He wishes he could stop himself, his sweet girl is having a bad day and he’s laughing.

“Jack!” You hit his shoulder, stopping him from laughing more, a smile still on his lips. “You’re adorable. You know that?” He places a quick kiss to your lips, and you pout up at him when he pulls away. “Hey, stop that pouting, I’m right here, baby.” You grasp the sides of his shirt, and let out a whine. “Yeah, but you’re not close enough.” Jack couldn’t help but let another laugh out. He secretly loved when you got like this. So needy for him, whiny and borderline bratty, all because you just wanted him close to you.

“I have to go shower. You wanna sit in the bathroom and talk to me while I do that?” “Mhmm.” You nod your head, a slight pout still on your lips. “Alright, c’mere.” He scoops you up and makes his way to the bathroom, before sitting you back down on the bathroom counter.

You watch him start the shower, and then come back over to you while it warms up. “So, what are we gonna make for dinner?” You knew what he was doing, he was trying to distract you from your thoughts. “I don’t know. I don’t even think we have anything to make for dinner. So, we’ll probably have to go to the store.” You sigh out, the thought of going to the store, where there are a lot of people, did not sound appealing to you. Jack kisses your cheek, then starts walking back to the shower, stripping before he gets in.

“Okay, then how about you choose somewhere to get takeout, and we’ll go pick it up together.”

“We can do that.” You reply back softly.

After about 20 minutes and you and Jack talking about any and everything, Jack literally tumbles out of the shower, slipping as he steps out, making the cutest giggle fall from your mouth. Jack couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

As he starts getting dressed, you hear him start to sing softly. Something he only did in front of you and his mother. And you couldn’t help but start to tear up at his voice.

When Jack finished getting dressed, he looks back over at you, and immediately rushes over. “Baby, what’s wrong now? Have you really missed me that much today?” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, and guides your head to his chest, rubbing the back of it.

You sniffle before looking back up at him. “It’s just, I’m so in love with you.” You pause, sniffling again, before continuing.

“Everything about you, just brings me so much joy, and comfort. And your voice- Jack I swear all I can imagine is the sun kissing your throat every morning before you wake, giving you this warmth, that could have only been created for you.” Jack couldn’t resist anymore, he needed to kiss you. So he did, and he tried to put every ounce of love he had for you in it.

When he pulls away, there’s a smile on his face that he thinks will be there for the rest of his life. “I don’t know what kind of person I was in my past life, but I had to be a fucking saint to end up with someone like you.”

“Then can you pinky promise that you’re never gonna leave me?” You hold your pinky up, big hopeful eyes staring right into his. He hooks his pinky with yours, sealing the promise with a kiss to your hand, and then a kiss to your lips. “I would have to die in order for that to happen.”

You smile and let your head fall against his chest again. “I believe we would find our way back to each other. Theres no way our souls aren’t bonded together by an invisible string, since we were thought to be created” You can feel his hand rubbing up and down your back. “You are undoubtedly my soulmate, Jack. No one could convince me otherwise.”

“You’re mine too, angel. I hope you always believe that.”

[theladybarnes]

CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER EIGHT

“I told you, I'm fine. Okay? I mean, as fine as someone who's hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.”

▸ summary: the group splits off again and a breaking theory comes your way ▸ characters: steve harrington, dustin henderson, max mayfield, robin buckley, nancy wheeler, & lucas sinclair ▸ word count: 12.7k ▸ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence, & trauma ▸ series masterlist

“It was here..right here!”

 “A grandfather clock?”

 “It was so real.” 

 You watched carefully from the back of the group as Max explained what happened once she had snapped out of her brief frozen state. Time had not ran out and it was only a few seconds into your panicking that she gasped before you guys, waking up.

 “..And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just..I woke up.”

 “It was like she was in a trance or something.” Dustin chimed in, looking over to the rest of you. “Exactly what you and Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

 You met his gaze with a small nod, unsure what to think next. Chrissy never woke up to the sound of you and Eddie calling out to her. And while Max didn’t either, she still snapped out of it. 

 Turning around to the group, Max couldn’t help but dive into more information. “That’s not even the bad part.” she started before she led all of you back to Ms.Kelley’s office. Surrounding the stack of files, she shared a couple between Robin and Nancy, setting up the base of what you guys gathered.

 “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms.Kelley for help..they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then..then the nightmares..trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things..bad things..from their pasts. In these visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually..everything ended.”

 “Vecna’s curse.” Robin clarified. 

 Curse. You thought. 

 Stomach churning at the idea of not only yourself being cursed, but Max too. How could she be hit with any more hardship than she already has? Even as she had explained everything as perfectly as she could, there was still a heavy terror in her voice. One that hit you harder than you expected. 

 But what could you do? How could you be of any help when you were going through the same afflictions that her and the others have? The only difference in the patterns were the visions. Instead, you were tormented by a voice. A dreadful voice that seemed to know all your insecurities and dump them into your mind at the worst times.

 You glanced around at your friends, their faces etched with sad, sombering looks as they listened to what Max had to say. 

 “There’s still time to figure things out,” you said, speaking up finally. “No one is giving up just yet.”

 Max slowly shook her head. Her bright eyes still lingered with a few unshed tears as she tried to reason with you. 

 “Chrissy’s headache started a week ago, Fred’s, six days ago. I’ve been having them for five days.” 

 Your heart dropped at that, unsure what you could even say to help make things better for her. But to your dismay, she went on. Even through her own body betraying her regular strength, she couldn’t help but crumble at her conclusion.

 “I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock!..So..” her breath was shaky as she stepped towards the desk. Gripping at the chair while she looked at everyone. “..it looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

 There’s a loud clang in the distance. Causing the group to jump a bit and pause the conversation. Steve doesn’t hesitate to step up, turning to the others with a frown on his face. “Stay here.” he ordered calmly, and turned to leave the room. But not without grabbing a nearby lamp to use as a weapon. 

 It took only a couple of seconds of him leaving the room before you quietly muttered to the others. “Yeah, screw that.” 

 Trailing after him, you made sure to check the hall behind you guys before following in close after him. Without having to look back, you could hear as the others quietly did the same. Sticking close behind Steve as well as he ventured out to the source of the noise.

 Steve barely glanced over his shoulder and noticed you all before he sighed disappointedly. “You gotta be kidding me.” he muttered to you.

 “Like you aren’t used to us not listening.” you whispered back. “Besides, you’re using a damn lamp. It’s not like you’re ready to fight either.”

 “It’s the best thing I got!” he hissed, trying to keep quiet. The sound of clattering stirred up again, shutting you both up.

 In the distance you could hear the sound of feet running begin to pick up, creating an anxious chill to run down your back.

 All around the rest of the group grew tense, waiting behind to see what would be coming into the view. Steve raised up the lamp, ready to take his aim on the target when suddenly a familiar face jumped into the hall.

Steve and Lucas began to yell once coming to head with each other, causing everyone to let out a panicked cry as they staggered back. 

 “IT’S ME!” Lucas cried out, holding his hands out before him defensively. 

 “Lucas?!” Nancy called out, flashing another light on his face.

 “It’s me!” he cried again.

 “JESUS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU SINCLAIR?” Steve yelled, looking flushed as the panic came over him.

 “I’m sorry!”

 “I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” he chided dramatically. You reached over for his arm and pulled him away from Lucas to rest back and give the kid some obvious air since he was panting particularly hard. 

 “Easy there, he-man.” you patted his arm, earning yourself an annoyed look from him. 

 “I’m sorry, guys, sorry! I was..I was biking for eight miles.” he held up a finger, holding onto the front of his gut. “Give me a second, shit.” he said before remembering what he really wanted to say. “We’ve got a code red!”

 “What?” Steve asked, confused all over again. 

 “Dustin,” He said as he staggered over to your cousin, still panting as he laid out more crap for the group to worry about now. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone like totally off the rails! They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”

 Dustin, while taken back by this, still can’t help but keep the main problem at focus. “All right, Yeah, that definitely sucks.” he agreed. “But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.” 

 You could only watch as Lucas slowly glanced over at Max. The two locked eyes and you could just see the pain in Max’s face. Without even realizing it, you’ve instinctively reached out for Steve’s hand. And thankfully, he doesn’t say anything but squeeze back.

  “We wouldn’t be able to access the program for it here. The family computer isn’t exactly gonna cut it.” sighed Nancy, downing the rest of her water. “Besides, I’m not even sure how to write up the kind of files we’d need to pass as real.”

 “There’s always a chance the library could have some examples.” you threw out, leaning against the counter to look at the two girls. “If we head there early enough, we could be the first ones in, type it out, and get it done by early morning.”

 “We can try that, but there’s always a chance it might not work. Hawkins doesn’t really have the newest resources. Even today we had to dig pretty deep to find the newspaper headlines.” Robin countered, crossing her arms as she stood beside you.

 The three of you had been in the kitchen for a good few minutes discussing what you guys could do.

 After leaving the school, it was pretty easy to just collect everyone and keep watch of each other in the safety of the Wheeler basement. Especially with Max’s countdown recently coming into light to hang over the rest of you. 

 “Well,” Nancy piped up, “there was a rumor I heard at school..” You and Robin shared a confused look before nodding at her to continue. 

 “Jordan Wallis. He’s in the A.V. Club. They said his older brother Nick used to help create fake IDs and permits for a certain price..”

 “Wasn’t his brother also sent to a Military school for getting caught?” Robin asked, looking a little skeptical.

 “He was.” she nodded, scrunching her nose at the fact. “But, I’ve heard that Jordan and a few of his buddies have taken on the family business. They might know a thing or two about forging documents. Some of them are in the newspaper so I might have a way in if we need to talk to him.” 

 The three of you mulled it over for a minute. Contemplating how much this idea could work. 

 Nancy let out a long sigh, sounding tired as she set down the cup in the kitchen sink. “It’s a long shot in the dark, but–”

 “It’s the best we got.” you finished for her, watching as she nodded her head. “I say we do it.”

 Robin silently agreed with a shrug, looking over to Nancy.  “Do you think you can reach them in time tonight?” she asked, scratching nervously at her cheek. “We’d have to leave first thing in the morning.”

 She turned her watch over, noting the time before she offered a tight lip smile. “It’s not too late. I can make a couple of calls.”

 “Then let’s get to it.”

 Robin left the two of you to join the others downstairs, possibly giving Steve some sort of relief from ‘babysitting’ while you and Nancy ventured up her stairs. It was easier to conceal the type of phone calls you guys were making from her parents in the privacy of the room. And after about ten minutes, three different conversations, and one sweet minute of pleading, there was a plan made to get the files. 

 You waited until everything was set and ready for the next day to ask Nancy if you could use her phone for a moment alone. She seemed a little worried, but gave a small smile and quietly left the room.

 Reaching for her phone, you stared down at the receiver, wondering what was suddenly coming over you as you pressed in the familiar number. A glance at your watch and you were thankful for once for the time difference. 

 “The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again at a later time.”

 Frowning, you tried dialing it again. 

 “The number you are trying to reach is un–”

 Ending the call, you tried to figure out just what could be holding the line. Since reaching Jonathan seemed out of play, you dialed the next person you needed to speak to. 

 It only took one ring for her to pick it up.

 “Hello?”

 “Mom?” 

 “Oh, Duckie!”  your mother gasped. “I was hoping I’d hear from you soon!”

 The sudden joy in your Mother’s voice brought a blooming happiness over you. It had been a couple of weeks since you had the chance to properly speak with her, and hearing her chirpy tone now felt like just what you needed.

 “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long..”

 “I would wait forever if it meant to get a call from you.” she cooed teasingly. “How are you, Duckie? Are you guys finally on Spring Break?”

 “Yeah, just started on Friday. Are you and Dad at the beach house?”

 “Yes! We just arrived the other night. We’re definitely missing you here. The Johnsons brought their little Dune Buggy that you liked to ride on the shore line.”

 The memories of spending breaks over at the seaside home came flooding in. If you were living there now you’d find yourself spending the evening with your parents getting ready for a lush dinner. Not currently dwelling over what you were going to do to save a friend from the fate that you might very much fall into as well. 

 “Duckie?”

 “Sorry,” you coughed, feeling your throat tighten up from your thoughts. “I’m just out of it today. Kinda tired.” 

 “Well it’s a good thing you’re on break! You’ll get to go out with your friends, have fun date nights with Steve–By the way! How is he? It’s been so long since you’ve told us about you guys. We’ve got that picture of you two from his graduation in the drawing room. It’s too cute!”

 Instantly you’re covering your face up. Not sure how you could even dive into explaining everything that was going on with Steve. Especially when right at this moment, you’re pretty sure you’re the last person whom he’d want talking about how well he is. 

 “Oh, uh, Steve’s fine.” you stuttered a bit. “He’s just been working really hard.”

 “Hopefully not too hard. I know how much you two are in love~ Must be going crazy with seeing each other all the time..” she teased, nearly making you groan out in pain. 

 “Yeah, we’re..inseparable.” Balling your hand up in a fist, you lightly punched at your thigh, trying to keep it together. "How are you and Dad doing?"

 "We're doing just fine," she sighed, her answer comforting you a little. "Your father's been trying to cut back hours in the firm, he wants to get some vacation time.. I’ve just finished designing a showroom for Margaret Chandler. She’s redone her whole home since her daughter graduated. But, mostly, we miss you. It's not the same without you around."

 You swallowed hard, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you at the endearing words you’ve been needing to hear lately. "I miss you too, Mom. It’s kind of late here..um, I’ll try to call again soon, okay?”

 “Okay, Duckie. Don’t wait too long this time. I wanna hear all that you’re up to, okay?”

 “Yeah.” you managed to choke out. “I love you..so much.”

 She let out a light laugh, possibly thinking you’re in a loving mood tonight. “I love you too! Talk to you soon.”

 You waited until the line disconnected before slowly putting the phone back down. The silence of the room suddenly became so overwhelming.

 Covering your face, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to calm down before you went and join the others. But the tears still welled up in your eyes and your vision blurred. 

 Would that be your last conversation with your Mother? Should you attempt to reach Jonathan again? What protocols would one have to follow when dealing with a curse?

 There was a dip on the bed next to you and suddenly you were being engulfed into a pair of arms. They were so warm, so familiar, you don’t even have to open your eyes as you pushed your way into his chest. 

 “It’s okay,” Steve whispered as his hands rubbed at your back. “You’re okay.”

 You don’t cry as much as you’d like to. Not when you knew you had to be around the others in just a few moments. But you allow the escape of Steve’s hug to give you a few moments of peace until you were pulling back.

 “I’m sorry.” you sniffled. “I just..I just...”

 The words died right off your tongue and you watched as he merely brought a hand up. Rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tears that stained your cheeks. His warm eyes looked over your face as he slowly shook his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, baby. I just wanna be here for you.”

 His words nearly made you break down all over again and you can’t help but push your face back into his chest once more. Resting against his pecs while listening to the sounds of his comforting heartbeat. He placed his head gently on top of yours, simply holding you close while you took the chance to calm down. 

 The interaction between the two of you was very much the opposite of what you guys had just a couple of hours ago. When you both tried ways to jab at each other. But to your dismay, like all other fights, Steve would always come to comfort you when you felt you least deserved it. 

 “Hey do you think you guys can go–”

 The sudden voice of Robin booming into the doorway caused you both to pull back from each other. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of you two before slowly turning into a small grin. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked teasingly, until she noticed the leftover tears in your eyes. “Shit, am I?”

 “Robin,” Steve sighed, letting go of you so he could get up from the bed. He stepped towards the door and closed it enough that it was only him that Robin could see. Giving you the chance to fix yourself up. “What were you gonna ask us?” 

 “Sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “Do you think you guys could maybe get us some pizza? We’re all kinda starved and don’t wanna bother Mrs. Wheeler or anything.”

 “Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good thing right now..” Steve said, most likely thinking you needed a minute. But the idea of stepping out for a moment sounded a lot more pleasing when you really thought it over. “Maybe we could just-”

 “We can go get it.” you said softly. 

 The two peeked turned at your voice, watching as you got off the bed, wiped your cheeks and made your way to the door. You reached around Steve to open it up again, allowing Robin to get a better look of you again. 

 “Are you sure?” she asked, moving to place a hand on your shoulder. “If you guys need a second it’ll be fine. I can try and heat us some frozen waffles or something.”

 “It’s fine, Robs.” you reassured her, attempting to shoot her a small smile. “We can go.” Turning to glance at Steve, you give him a hopeful look. “If you’re up for it?”

 His eyes were skeptical as he took in your question. Most likely because he probably didn’t believe your sudden change in demeanor from moments ago on the bed. But to your surprise, he’s not against it and slowly nodded his head. “Let’s go.”

 As Steve drove down the winding path toward town, the tension in the car was slightly nerve wracking. 

 Quietly you sat beside him, trying to keep your composure together. Not wanting to go back to how you were not five minutes ago in Nancy’s room. But there’s no denying what was bound to happen. The moment Steve came into the room and overheard you, you knew what he was going to ask. If not now, then eventually.

 The problem was, were you willing to tell him the truth?

 From just a glance you could see as his eyes focused on the road ahead. Jaw clenched and lips pursed in a tight line. He was most likely running ideas about how to approach this with you. Not that you had any clue on how he could. It made the guilt return back quickly. 

 The whole fight earlier felt petty now.

 Max was now closer to falling into Vecna’s curse, and there was a possibility that you might be next. How could you even care about stupid things like exes and kisses? Not that he was aware of the severity. All he knew was that his ex girlfriend was acting out of normal for a couple of weeks now. But in reality, you were far into this web of problems that you weren’t sure you had it in you to trap him in it with you. 

 How could you drag him in when you weren’t sure how to get out?

 Carefully, he veered off the main road into the quiet woods, just outside of the main parts of town. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. How many times could you lie to Steve and tell him you were okay? Would he easily see through your lie again and call out the bullshit? There was no way he could attempt to unravel the myriad of problems surrounding you. 

 But like always, despite all your best efforts to push him away, he just came back with a force.

 The car came to a slow stop and he turned off the engine. Cutting off the only noise left between the two of you. Outside the chilly spring night brought a blue hue over the woods. It was the same way it looked the other night when you were left to find your way back home. 

 You must have been shivering at the memory because suddenly Steve was slipping off his jacket and placing it over you. His eyes stayed focused on making sure you were covered up before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. The smell of his cologne still lingered over his jacket and you can’t help but allow the heat of the fabric to comfort you briefly, giving you a small relief before you cleared your throat to speak up finally. 

 “So,” you said lamely, pointing out towards the field. “Chilly night isn’t it?”

 He stared quietly, raising a brow at you like he was expecting some sort of breakdown.

 “I, for one, think that it is too cold for Spring. Back home, Spring nights felt crisp but still nice enough for a walk.”

 "So you’re just gonna act like what happened in Nancy’s room didn’t happen?" he frowned, his voice laced with worry.

 You shook your head, trying not to dive into that as you plastered on a smile, hoping it would be enough to deflect his concern. "Nothing happened. That was just me being homesick.."

 “Homesick? You’re kidding me..” 

 “It’s the truth! I haven’t been away from home in so long. It’s complicated. Not to mention, it’s been a long day and I’m a little tired.” 

 He scoffed lightly, his hand reaching out to grip onto the wheel tightly. "Bullshit, Trouble. You look like you haven't slept in days, you’re crying after a phone call home, you were just in an accident the same night you saw a girl die from some curse. When are you going to finally be honest with me, here?”

 “I’m fine.” you replied, voice a little too forced. "Just... worried about Max too, you know? With everything that's been happening. It’s a lot.”

 Steve's brow furrowed, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. He could always see right through you. Always sensing when something was off. It was both a blessing and a curse, especially now when you were desperately trying to keep your own secret buried.

 "Look, we’re all worried, but I know there’s more. You're not just worried about Max, are you?" His voice was soft, though laced with a hint of hurt. 

 You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as you tried to ignore the guilt coming back in your stomach again. "What do you mean?"

 "It’s him too?" has asked carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re worried about Eddie too. I mean..that kiss..”

 “Well, I am worried he might get attacked by a mob of evangelicals. But that kiss, it was just..it was nothing.” you said quickly, “He does it all the time. It’s more so to annoy me than to mean anything else.”

 “That’s not what it looked like to me.” he mumbled, glancing out the window. 

 A lump formed in your throat. Trying to push out any sort of excuse that could ease him of the hurt he had over what transpired earlier. All this time, Eddie was the only thing that helped distract you from Steve. He didn’t care about making anything deep, and neither did you. It was perfect. 

 But now Steve was here, and he was trying to help you, and all you could think was to apologize for making things worse.

 "I'm sorry, Steve," you whispered, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. "I want to say that it’s nothing, because it is nothing to me. I’m not even thinking about that. Right now I just want to work on making sure Max is okay."

 “There’s more you’re not telling me.” 

 “I‘ve said all that I need to say—“

 "No, nope. I’m not letting you avoid this," Steve said firmly, turning to face his body towards you. "We don’t lie to each other, okay? Even when you’re mad you always eventually tell me what’s wrong. But now? You’re just..” 

 “I’m just trying to keep focus, Steve.” 

 He quickly shook his head, frowning now. “You can't keep shutting me out, pretending like everything's okay when it's clearly not. I'm not going to stand by and watch you keep whatever it is that’s eating you up inside! I’ve made that mistake before and I won’t do it again.”

 You wanted to protest, to tell him it wasn’t anything he should be concerned over, but the words caught in your throat. How else could you fail in keeping him safe when even keeping him out of the loop caused him to feel this hurt?

 But before you could think of anything to say to him, his voice softened, his eyes searching yours as if the answers were right there. "I just want to help you, honey..I lo— I care about you, And it's killing me to see you like this. I made a promise to you a long time ago and all I do is keep breaking it.”

 “Promise?” you whispered, leaning in close to him. “What promise?”

 He reached out to cup the side of your face. Warming your cheek with the palm of his hand as he came in to rest his forehead against yours. “Last summer. Back in my room, I said no one was ever going to hurt you again. Because no one was going to look out for you better than me.” he whispered back. You stayed quiet, trying to take in those words again. Steve nervously licked over his lips, scared to push the limit of the conversation. “Do you remember why?” 

 The memory hit you instantly. The way you two looked over each other, trying to make sense of all the pain and suffering you both endured after Billy and being captured by the Russians. You never wanted to see Steve hurt again. You still don’t. His words, however, came back to your mind and you found your eyes slightly prickling with tears.

 “..because I’m your girl.” 

 “That’s right.” he sighed, “You’re my girl..”

 Without saying anything, he pulled you into his arms. Holding you so tightly, as if his arms could shield you from the world and all the doom that wanted to make its way in. And truthfully, in that moment, it really felt like they could. 

 “Can we just..forget about everything? Just for right now?” you asked, keeping your face pressed into his chest. “I don’t want to talk or think about breakups, exes, fighting, or curses. I just..want this right now. Just us.”

 “Yeah,” he agreed, pulling back so he could hold your face in his hands. “We can do that.” 

 There’s a little disappointment in his eyes. Probably from the lack of progress in the conversation. But you’re grateful for the pause. Needing to be selfish just once more with Steve, and focus on the kindness and sincerity of his words that made the ache in your chest lighter.

 “Can you say it again?” you asked, leaning close to his face. The faint brush of his breath flushed over your skin and you reached out to place a hand over his chest. Basking in his closeness to you. 

 A small, pleased sort of smile, pulled at his lips as he nodded his head slowly. He reached out to push a hair away from your face before he finally spoke again. 

 “You’re my girl.” A kiss to your forehead.

 “You’re my girl.” A kiss to your cheek. 

 He took his time leaning down, only brushing his lips briefly over yours, affectionately. “My girl.” he breathed before he sealed the moment with one last kiss.

  The night thankfully didn’t result in more crying. After the two of you allowed yourselves just a little bit of time to just forget everything, you remembered that you had a whole group of people to feed. Some who were kind enough not to point out how long it took for you guys to receive the food. 

 Eventually the full bellies led for some to go in and out of falling asleep. You took the chance of having a quieter basement go over everything. Sleep, as much as it called to you, did not sound like a good idea. Not when every night now it’s led to another nightmare. 

 You managed to keep yourself busy, going over all the files again as well as taking in the new information about this Victor Creel guy. Now and then you’d peek over and watch Max over at the desk. She had grown quiet after eating, only asking Nancy for a pen, paper, and envelopes before settling into the back of the room. 

 It was hard not to want to pester her with worrisome questions. You knew better than to poke her with that kind of approach. But it didn’t help ease you at all. Not when you knew she was probably scared out of her mind. 

 Eventually the night passed and it wasn’t until morning came that Nancy and Robin left to go try and reach one of the boys who Nancy had called the night before. You offered to join them but they pressed for you to stay back when they noticed your tiredness. It was decided you’d stay back and attempt a bit of a nap. 

 After a brief hour or two spent up in Nancy’s quiet room, you made your way down to the basement again after downing two pain relief pills. The dreaded headache only turned worse after the reveal of symptoms. But now you were up again and seeking out the company of the others. 

 You had just sat down beside Dustin, relaxing against the cushion when the other two boys decided to venture into the small pile of information left for them to read over again. It wasn’t until Steve’s grumbling that you peeked an eye open to look over at them.

 “Okay, be honest. Uh, you guys understand any of this?”

 “No.” Lucas sighed defeatedly. 

 “Pretty straightforward.”

 “Pretty much all of it.”

 You and Dustin looked over at each other approvingly before casting a glance over at Steve who was frowning over at the two of you now.

 “Oh, straightforward, really?” Steve asked, perplexed, eyes shifting between the two of you. 

 “Well, what’s confusing to you?” Dustin sighed, tiredly. “So far, everyone Vecna cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.” 

 “Exactly,” you chimed in. “Which is why he’s our best lead on this.”

 “Yeah, that’s assuming he was cursed, Hendersons, which we don’t even know.” Steve muttered, a hard frown on his face. “God, How can Vecna have existed in the fifties? It doesn’t make sense.”

 “As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down. She opened a gate to it.”

 “Jonathan and I asked Will about this before, he mentioned that the Upside Down looked sort of out of time. Like everything was aged. But that was only from the area surrounding his house, not sure about the whole town..” you said, trying to remember if Nancy had ever mentioned anything. Dustin seemed to agree with your direction, snapping a finger at you. 

 “The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years. Millions. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.”

 Steve couldn’t help but grow even more frustrated at that. Waving his arms over in a crossing motion. “Dinosaurs? What are we–”  

 “Okay! Okay!” Lucas intervened. “But if a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through?”

 “Oh! And how’s he getting through now?” Steve threw in, pointing to Lucas. 

 “And why now?”

 “And why then? Just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he's like, ‘Yeah, I’m good!’ and poof, he just disappears. Just..gone?” You watched carefully as Steve put together his own idea, waving his fingers in the air dramatically. “Then only to return thirty years later and start killing some random teens? No, I don’t buy it.” 

 He glared down at the newspaper again before starting up again. “Straight forward my ass.” he mumbled, turning to go over to his seat. “You know what? Honestly, Hendersons, a little humility now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you guys.”

 Dustin is quick to apologize. Muttering out a ‘sorry’ while he allowed Steve the small win. 

 The man looked over at you next, raising a brow questionably, but all you could do is chuckle at his reaction. Holding your hands up defeatedly before settling back into a resting position. With a flick to the paper and cross of his legs, Steve finally seemed to relax again. 

 It was only a few more seconds of silence before Dustin changed the subject. 

 “Any idea what she’s writing?” The four of you slowly diverted your attention to the girl in the back. She was still quiet, working at the desk like she did late into the night. “Did she sleep?”

 “No,” you answered softly, trying not to speak so loud and clue her in on your guys' tactless conversation about her. 

 “I mean, would you?” Lucas asked. 

 “I wouldn’t.” you answered honestly. That earned you a worried glance from Steve. Thankfully, before any questions could come out from that, the loud shut of the basement door cut into the room. 

 Nancy and Robin quickly came down the stairs, a small approving look on their faces as they held onto the folders you had been patiently waiting for. 

 “Okay, so, we have a plan.” Nancy announced, mostly to those unaware of last night’s conversation. The files were given to the others, allowing them a clue in while Robin explained where they had gone that morning. 

 “Thanks to Nancy’s minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” 

 “Ugh, Notre Dame?” you asked, earning a small amused look from your friends before they passed you the last folder. Apparently you’d be joining them this time.

 “I’m now Ruth.” 

 “And I’m Rose.” 

 “Ruth?” Steve asked amusedly. You would have joined in on the silly name, if your eyes had not landed over the name at the top of your page. 

 “Rhonda?!” you gaped, eyes flickering between the paper and your two friends. “Of all the names–”

 “The Beach Boys happened to be playing on the radio when we couldn’t think of another name.” Robin excused quickly, waving her hand to point over to the student status card. “Look at your pretty extracurriculars.” 

 Dustin leaned over to glance at your file. “You guys do have nice GPAs.” he said, throwing in some positive feedback.

 “Thanks.” Nancy said cheerfully before explaining further. “So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

 “To which they said no.” Robin threw in, adding some reality into the plans.

 “But, we landed a three o’clock with the director.”

 “Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

 “Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy finished, hopefulness in her voice. 

 “All easy things, of course.” you muttered sarcastically, handing your file out to the small rotation that was happening with the boys. 

 “Yeah, about that.” Steve joined in, “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh, we got some questions.”

 “Lots of questions.” Lucas emphasized. 

 “So do we,” Nancy agreed. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

 “Wait, wait, wait a second.” You all looked over to Steve as he confusedly looked over the papers before him. “Where’s mine?”

It was only a matter of seconds into Nancy’s room that Steve went into a mini tantrum.

 “Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.”

 “Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her.” she turned to open her closet before stopping. “Also, It wasn’t just my idea, you know.” she said to him, throwing a glance over at you. 

 Steve looked at you with wide eyes.

 “Way to throw me under the bus.” you muttered, making your way to lie down on her perfectly made bed. Thankfully he didn’t let that part of the conversation linger and returned back to the main focus. 

 “I know she needs people. But why does it always have to be me?”

 “Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!” Robin gushed as she came into the room now. The excitement on her face is so opposite of Steve’s annoyed one that you can’t help but be entertained from your spot. “You have a Tom Cruise poster~.” 

 “That’s old!” Nancy replied, trying to justify her previous celebrity crush.

 “You act like you’ve never been in a girl’s room before.” you chuckled to your friend, watching her go through Nancy’s tapes next.

 “This is Nancy’s room, It’s like a whole new personality to find out.”

 “Can you please not touch anything?” she tried telling Robin. Again, Steve is left to try and bring the focus back onto him and his current agenda. 

 Leaving the babysitting business.

 “I just-I just- I can��t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know. I could turn on my..my charm.”

 “Not the charm we need.” she shut down kindly, still hurting his ego in the process.

 “Ouch,” he turned before he caught you watching comfortably from the bed. “Well, why does she get to go?” he pouted, pointing over at you

 “Hey!” you frowned, sitting up now. “What are you trying to say?”

 “Nothing! Just that if I’m stuck babysitting again then so should you.”

 “We need her.” Nancy butt in, poking her head out from the closet. “Not only is she Ivy League type, but some of her assets might be what we need to convince them if all else fails.”

 “What assets?” you and Steve asked at the same time.

 “She means your boobs.” Robin said plainly, holding onto one of Nancy’s sunglasses from her dresser. “Let’s be real, she’s as hot as she is smart so it’ll be of use when we need to get through.”

 You couldn’t help but glance down at your chest, frowning at the ‘assets’ in question before your eyes landed back on Steve for his reaction. He’s unfortunately looking at the same thing as you were, nodding his head despite the frustrated frown still on his face. 

 “I’d like to make a note that her confidence is good enough to convince anyone she belongs in a room.” Nancy threw in, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Plus, she can charm the pants off pretty much any guy that comes her way.”

 “I suddenly feel dirty.” you scoffed, rolling off the bed. “But I suppose I have no other choice but to play the role of femme fatale.”

 “I can charm.” he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve charmed the charmer.” he pointed out, looking at you again.

 Nancy looked over at him with a sad smile as she tried to reassure him of things again. “I just– Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. And if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him that we are too. That, like him, we are true academic scholars.” 

 “Holy shit.” Robin whispered while playing the music box loudly. “There’s a little ballerina in here.” 

 It’s comically quiet for a second while the three of you gaped over at her. Steve can’t help but look at Nancy dumbfoundedly.  

 “Academic scholar?” he asked, using his hand to point attention to his friend. “She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah..”

 “No,” Nancy replied honestly. “But, she will.” 

 You all cast your eyes over the frilly pink shirt Nancy had been rummaging for her in the closet for. It’s a lovely top you’ve seen your friend wear before. But for someone like Robin, whom you’re pretty sure you haven’t even seen in a skirt before, it must have been a frilly nightmare. 

 “Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking.” muttered Robin, horrified. 

 You made a mental note that while you were more than happy to be a team player, you weren’t going to be walking around a mental asylum cinched into Nancy’s clothes. “I’m going to shop over at the Karen Wheeler selection.”

 Leaving the room, you quickly made your way over to Nancy’s parents room. Thankful that the other members of the Wheeler family had set out for a busy day to give you the chance to sneak in. It was only a second later that Steve came in after you. Frown still on his face but attitude slowly disappeared when he noticed you started to change. 

 “I don’t think I need any help here, Steve.” you said playfully, reaching for one of Karen’s two piece suits. 

 It was a pastel green peplum top with a nicely fitted blazer skirt. The pastel color wasn’t your thing but it was paired up with a silky white button shirt. It made the whole ensemble look mature with the small bit of sultriness you needed. “Props to you, Karen.” you mused, squeezing inside the skirt. 

 You were about to reach over for the top next when Steve suddenly took your hands. “Trouble, we need to talk.” he said softly, stopping you from continuing getting dressed.

 “You talk, I’ll get dressed.”

 "I don't like this," Steve said while he watched you reach back for the top again. "You guys don't even know what you're walking into. And you’re doing it alone"

 “How can three people be alone?” You asked, letting out a long sigh before buttoning up your shirt. “Also, we know what we’re walking into. A guarded asylum, run by staff who we’re hopefully going to trick into letting us interview one of their high risk schizophrenics patients.” you said simply, reaching over for the blazer next. “Kinda, straightforward.”

 That earned you a tired look.

 "Are you sure about this, Trouble?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for some sort of reassurance.

 “Look, we’re just going to ask some questions and hopefully get out of there with something useful.” 

 “But what if something happens? What if you guys get caught?” 

 “Then you’ll get to be that brave Knight in white Nikes, again, right?” You teased, reaching out to cup the side of his face. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his hand on top of yours as he leaned in closer. 

 “Trouble, you know what I me—” 

 You pressed your lips against his, kissing him gently and stopping him from running into more scenarios. “We have each other, we’ll be safe.” You promised, pecking his lips once more before you pulled back to look at him. 

 Steve's concern persisted, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he murmured.

 “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Worst case scenario is we get arrested for false documents and that’ll just be a phone call to my Dad. Which Dustin or Max will help get for you.” 

 He nodded his head slowly and you gave a small pat to his cheek before letting go to switch out for some cute pumps Karen had hidden in the back of her closet. The outfit looked good, but was it enough for what you guys needed to do?

 “All right,” you sighed, grabbing his attention again while you fixed your hair. Hoping it was still fine after having such a restless night. “How do I look?”

 Steve, for the first time, didn’t seem to be bothered now that he was watching as you turned in spot to give him an overall view. His hands reached out to grab at your hips as he pulled you closer. Letting his height tower over you while he gave you a small smirk.

 “Like a scholar,” he murmured. “A very pretty scholar, who uses her kisses to try to make me forget how worried I am about her.”

 Your heart beats a little fast, but you find yourself almost pressing up to him. “And is it working?”

 “Sorta.”

 Nancy suddenly called out your name from down the hall, cutting the conversation short.

 Or so you thought. 

 Steve waited until you were walking toward the door before he reached for your hand and tugged you back into his arms. You’re about to ask what he was doing when he leaned in to press his lips against yours again. 

 The kiss is deeper this time. More needy and hot than the sweet calming one you gave to him. Instantly, your body fell for it and tried to mold against his. There were always going to be unsettled feelings between the two of you, but the physical ones never seemed to be the problem. 

 It’s not until Robin called out your name, more aggravated than the way Nancy did, that he reluctantly pulled back. His eyes were warm, and looking at you in a way that made your cheeks burn a bit. "Just... be careful, okay, Rhonda?" he pleaded, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek.

 The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine and you nodded meekly before offering a faint smile. “We will,” you reassured him. “Mr. Charmer.”

 He shot back a beautiful smile as he finally let you go. From down the hall you could see as he picked up your discarded clothes while he whistled a familiar tune that tugged at your heart. It wasn’t until you were at the bottom of the stairs that you noticed your slightly disgruntled friends. 

 Nancy was rubbing the side of her head while Robin awkwardly kept adjusting at her bra. You open your mouth to tease her about her being dressed up as a Nancy clone, when she held up a hand before you could make any comment. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” she grunted before stalking to the front door.

 Nancy and you were left rushing after her until you were all outside. The other two led the way towards Nancy’s station wagon when you stopped and noticed Steve’s car parked nearby. The front windows were down a bit, giving you a look inside to something you’ve been aching to see again. 

 Running to the door, you reached your hand in and carefully tugged on the sun visor until you were able to pull the metal out. Not wanting the other girls to catch you, you ran back towards the car and quickly climbed into the back seat. 

 It’s not until the drive over had begun that you finally opened up your palm and stared down at the item. The sun perfectly illuminated the shining S, giving you something of comfort to have it in your possession again. You quickly pushed the necklace into the pocket of your jacket, feeling it relax your silently anxious nerves.

 “So what did you steal from his car?” Nancy asked, looking out the front window as she pulled out of her driveway onto the street. Her blue eyes flickered over to you in the rear view mirror, almost like she already knew.

 “Just...something for luck.”

 The three of you arrive at Pennhurst in a good amount of time. There was still time left in the day to get what you needed and hopefully return to Max before the twenty-four hours were up. 

 As you all exited the car, you couldn’t help but watch as Robin struggled to balance herself in the very low heels that Nancy had her in. “I feel like I’m watching a newborn deer walk.” you said with a sly grin.

 The girl bobbed her head over at you, giving you a glare as she adjusted her footing again.

 “Do not test me, Henderson. I can’t breathe in this thing, and I’m itchy. I’m itching all over!” she huffed. 

 “It’s not all about comfort.” Nancy retorted. “Okay? We’re academics.”

 “Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch.” Robin hissed, stumbling once more before she gripped at the side of her underarms. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs!”

 “We’re also college girls and college girls definitely don’t say boobs. Not to mention, they know how to handle wearing heels. Especially measly one inch heels, Robs.” 

 “Oh, I hope you get rotten eggs in your basket this year.” she swore, giving you a small glare as she tugged at the sides again. Nancy let out a small, tired, exhale and turned to look over at the two of you.

 “Okay. Could you two just let me do the talking? If that’s even possible?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed. 

 “It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin threw back. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.” 

 Somehow you three managed to cover up the discomfort between the three of you in order to enter inside and get in for the meeting with Dr. Hatch.

 It’s a wasted few short minutes of him overgoing all three files while you guys patiently sat around his desk. Robin somehow, got between the two of you, and started to itch again. Nearly getting the attention from the man now and then. 

 “Three point nine GPAs.” He mused offhandedly. “The three of you…impressive.” 

 “And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy added in, offering the man one of the other letters written up from the Newspaper lackeys. 

 “Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.” The director replied, making all three of you sit up a bit straighter. His eyes looked from the paper as he gave off a small teasing smile. “Eh, you know what they say, ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’” 

 The other two girls give off an encouraging chuckle, while you can’t help but open your mouth at this guy’s slightly patronizing behavior. 

 “I always felt Aristotle said it better,” you pointed out, leaning forward to throw off one of your more charming smiles. “Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.”

 The other two girls nervously glanced your way, raising a brow at your sudden opinion. Over at the desk, sat Hatch as he took in the words you said. Only letting out an amused chuckle before he nodded his head. “That is a positive way of looking at it.”

 “That’s actually why we’re here.” Nancy spoke up. “I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom.”

 “Mm. And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

 You felt frustrated hearing his reply. All those were logical reasons that you three did not have time for. Glancing to your right, you watched as Robin began to squirm in her seat. Adjusting the collar and edges of her skirt over and over as she tried not to scratch. You reached out to grab at her hand, giving her a warning look that only caused her to pout at you.

 “I can see you’re disappointed. But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

 “And we’d..we would love that.” Nancy said, looking over at you guys to nod in agreement. “It’s just that, um..our thesis is due next month.”

 “And you’re out of time.” he figured.

 “Unfortunately, yes.” you sighed, trying to sound a little guilty about it. “Things got a little pushed back–”

 “Whose fault is that?” he asked sharply, nearly making you throw him a glare. From the side you watched Nancy’s eyes widen a bit as she attempted to throw in a bit of damage control.

 “Ours. Absolutely. And I do apologize–”

 “Don’t apologize, Ruth. Screw that!” Robin interrupted. “The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really..I can’t breathe in this thing!” she said, turning to glance at Nancy. 

 “Well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air. I think Rhonda and I can handle this.” she insisted, giving Robin a pleading look.”

 “Maybe I should, Ruth!” she said, slapping at the arms of her chair before she got up from her seat. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don’t.”

 From your seat you can’t help but gape at your friend because either she’s been taking acting lessons without your knowledge or that shirt was really so torturous that it was giving her the best ending speech of her life. 

 “We don’t look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C, the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew..You know Petey, right, Ruth, Rhonda?”

 “Of..of course.” Nancy stuttered. 

 “Totally!” you chuckled nervously, wondering where this was going to go.

 “Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full-on hyperventilating. And all the other campers, they couldn’t sleep for weeks. And I couldn’t sleep either but not because I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, ‘What would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts?’ Other kids, they wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rockstars. But I wanted to be you! I wanted to be you. So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little bit more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works. So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because you and I both know that he would.”

 A beat of pause and you were practically glued to the edge of your seat. Glancing between a very red faced Robin and what looked like a suddenly moved Hatch.

 “So..ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”

 It felt like forever as the three of you stared over at the man with bated breath. 

 “Follow me, girls.” 

 Without question, you all shot out from your seats and quickly followed the man out. Robin stood proudly between the two of you, allowing Hatch to lead the way while she held her palms out for you both. Nancy and you happily gave her a pleased smirk before pulling your hands out and giving Robin the well deserved high-five.

 By the time you guys were walking the grounds of Pennhurst, the sun had died even more. Throwing the whole yard into an overcast gray as the four of you made the way to Creel’s holding.

 “These are our gardens.” Hatch announced. “Beautiful aren’t they? We allow them two hours of outside time a day.”

 “Can’t they just escape?” Robin asked, glancing at one of the patients waving nearby.

 “They could. But the vast majority choose to be here. They like it here.”

 “And they’ve said this themselves?” you muttered, worriedly glancing over to a particular woman near a flower bed. Something about this place didn’t feel right to you and his indifferent tone wasn’t helping you feel any better about it. 

 The three of you are led into a building. The soft sounds of music could be heard from outside the room before you guys walked in. 

 “This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room.” Hatch said in a much quieter voice. “We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind. The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus.”

 The right song..

 That sparked an interest within you. Recalling how just the other night, Eddie managed to calm down your bad dream with the simple strum of the familiar tune. 

 Hatch straightened up as he led you girls towards a room in the back. Voice turned eerie as he went on. “But there are those who are beyond a cure.” 

 Down the stairs, what looked like a basement floor, stood a lonely guard. Curiously glancing at the four of you guys while you made your descent. 

 “Uh, Dr. Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”

 He paused at that, casting a shocked glance at her question. “Alone?” he asked, walking back over. You perked up, offering him a kind smile as you tried to help make the idea sound not as crazy as it really was. 

 “I have to second that request. I think it’d be beneficial for the three of us to gain hands-on experience in this.”

 Robin nervously nodded along with you, throwing in her piece. 

 “I-I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself. Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face. When we get back to campu–”

 “Professor Bradley?” he interrupted. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

 “Brantley!” Nancy corrected, trying to fix Robin's slip up. “She..she meant to say Brantley.”

 “Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?”

 “You keep messing up today!” you playfully chided, forcing a giggle to come out as you lightly slapped the back of her hand. 

 “Sorry, silly me. Words, letters.” she chuckled nervously. “Guess I’m just nervous..I mean, excited. SO excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as they mentioned, alone?”

 Much to your dismay, the suspicion never left his eyes as he watched over the three of you quietly. You’re beginning to think that this whole plan has failed and that you three would be leaving with nothing. But soon enough his stoic face broke as he spoke.

 “Yes,” he said, smiling over his frown now. “Why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood.”

 You forced a chuckle with the others, hopefully sounding enthralled with his humor enough that he’ll return back to trying to be charming once more. 

 “There’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so.. Sure.” he said before looking towards the guard. “Keep a close eye on them.” 

 With that, he quickly made his leave to the stairs. All of you shot off thanks to him as he made his exit before following the guard into the area. 

 It’s an ominous hall of cells. Clamoring and groaning with other patients that seemingly weren’t allowed the freedom of wandering the lawns of the asylum. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat with every step after the guard, not daring looking into the cells of the patients you walked past while the guard laid out some rules.

 “Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”

 “Yes, sir.” the three of you said together. 

 He approached the last cell of the block, using his baton to hit against the metal bars to the patient inside. 

 “Victor!” he sang out. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors…real pretty ones.”

 There’s an echoing scratching noise that had you wincing slightly. Victor said nothing, keeping his back to you guys. 

 “Must be in one of his moods.” shrugged the guard. “Have fun.”

 Without another taunt, he left down the hall from where you came from. Leaving the three of you to get started on the work finally. Nancy is the first one confident enough to speak out to the man, ignoring the fact that he was quietly snarling to himself in the chair. 

 “Victor?” she called out gently. “My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And these are my friends.”

 You and Robin quickly tell him your names, careful with how loudly you spoke out to him.

 “Um, we have some questions.” Robin added, voice higher with nerves.

 “I don’t talk to reporters.” Victor spat out. “Hatch knows that.”

 “We’re not reporters.” Nancy quickly, but gently, corrected. “We’re here because..we believe you. And because..we need your help.”

 Robin took her turn, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Whatever killed your family, we think it’s back.” 

 Silence hung heavy in the air as you three waited for a response. When none came, you sucked in a sharp breath, summoning every ounce of courage your friends had to come to you. "And we're not leaving until we get some answers, Victor.."

 All your words must have sparked something of an interest to the man, causing him to pull away from the desk and emerge from the shadows. Revealing an older man. Worn down by years of torment that must have come from that night. But the most haunting part of his appearance were his eyes. Swollen eyes shut by some previous stab wound. 

 But even with that in mind, there was something about his gaze that felt off. As if he was staring right through you.

 “..When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance. Like a waking nightmare. That’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

 From your spot you could hear as Victor’s breath began to shake. Almost fearfully. 

 “Victor.” Nancy spoke out again. “I know this is hard–”

 “You don’t know anything!” he bellowed.

 His voice echoed throughout the hall. Almost shutting up any other noise around you guys. 

 “You’re right.” Nancy nodded slowly. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”

 “We need to know how you survived that night.”  Robin added, earning a disbelieving laugh from the man. 

 “Survived?” he asked sardonically. “Is that what you call this? Did I survive?” He slowly approached the bars, almost as if he knew where to direct his growing anger towards. The three of you pressed closer to each other. Keeping a safe space back as he spoke again. “No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

 Surprisingly, that did not stop Victor from beginning his story. 

 The return home from war, the new fortune that fell into his family’s lives, and the promise of a new chapter in their lives. The reminiscence in his voice almost sounded..loving, far beyond the tone of a man who had murdered those he spoke of. 

 “It was a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”

 He spoke of the name so fondly, almost like sighing her name brought relief to him. 

 “Alice. Was this your daughter?” Nancy asked.

 “Mhm, Yeah. But Henry, my boy, he was a sensitive child..and I could see he felt something was wrong.” His voice turned low for his other child. Sort sombering to his previous mood. “We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began..”

 He shook his head slowly. Memories seemingly coming to his mind. 

 “Dead animals, mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This..” He paused to let out another feigned laugh. “This was no wildcat. This was an evil. An evil neither animal nor human.”

 He walked towards the bars again as he whispered out next words.

 “This was a spawn of Satan. A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”

 You felt a shiver run down your spine. Trying to picture out what it was that could have been attacking their home. But like the night you saw Chrissy die, you knew that force was unseeable. That its fury came with no warning. 

 “My family began to have encounters conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Waking, living nightmares. This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice.”

 So this curse spared no one. You couldn’t help but think. If his daughter wasn’t safe from it, neither would Max. And that made your stomach turn even more. You pushed your hand into your pocket, squeezing around the metal of the necklace. It brought a moment of comfort until you listened to more of Victor’s story. 

 “It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own.” he recalled, turning away from you all. “I suppose all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I..I could sense this demon..always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home.”

 You can’t help but think about this presence. This sense of dread, always creeping up on you these days. Like it was haunting you.

 “It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home..It had cursed us.”

 A hand reached out for your arm and you glanced down to see Nancy gripping onto you while her face stared hard at Victor. Quietly, you gave you a small reassuring pat before watching as Victor flopped down onto his bed defeatedly. 

 “It took Virginia first.”

 The flashback of Chrissy’s body being twisted and pulled into different directions came to mind. You barely knew her and it shocked you to your core. You couldn’t imagine the horrors if you had to see it happen to someone you loved. Someone like St– 

 “I tried to get the children out, to save them!” he exclaimed, pulling back your attention. “..But I was back to France, back in the war..It..it was a memory. I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong.”

 Victor physically started to become tormented by his own words. The very words that must have been half the torture as whatever was going through his mind. You felt yourself being pulled in, wishing to help this poor man, but you had to hear it all.

 “This demon, it was taunting me. And I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then..I heard..another voice. At first, I believed it was an angel. And I..I followed her, only to find myself in a nightmare far worse…While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later, he died.”

 Without realizing it, you pressed against the metal bars. Listening to what you thought might be the very future you were to face. But even with that new fear in you, you couldn’t help but seek out one missing piece. 

 “Did you hear it?” you whispered. 

 “Hear what?” he muttered back.

 “The ticking..”

 He turned his whole body around, facing in your direction calmly before he nodded his head. 

 “Yes..it was there..it was always there.”

 You staggered back, hope fleeting quickly as you came to realize that even with your small difference in things. Your fate would end the same. From the side you could feel Nancy and Robin cast you a worried look before Victor spoke up again.

 “I tried to join them…I tried!” His voice sounded almost like a small child, pleading for forgiveness to his upset Mother. He raised up two fists and pressed them to his eyes. It weighed down on your already heavy heart.

 “Hatch stopped the bleeding.” he sobbed. “He wouldn’t let me join them!”

 The three of you watched as he slowly lied down on the bed. Reaching up to his pillow to hold close to his face for comfort.

 “The angel you followed, who was she?” asked Nancy gently. 

 He didn't answer as he swayed gently. Only humming out the best that he could in his distress state. It sounded familiar. Something you’ve heard long ago. But you couldn’t quite recall it now. 

 “Victor?..Victor!”

 “Is he everything you hoped he would be?”

 You guys jumped at the booming voice, turning around to glance down the hall. Hatch, along with two security guards behind him, were making their way over now. 

 “I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley! Perhaps we should discuss in my office while we wait for the police.” 

 The three of you were quickly rushed out of the holding cells. Pushing impatiently through the stairs until you were back in the listening room. Nancy raced after Hatch, trying to plead out to him.

 “You’re not listening. Our friend is in danger!”

 “Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?”

 “It’s the truth!”

 “You are free to tell your sob story to the police.”

 You clung close to Robin’s side since leaving the cell. Victor’s words still echoed  in your mind as you guys weaved through the tables of people. Every now and then a guard would give your shoulder a shove and you’d have to step faster to keep close to the other two. 

 Once you guys were back outside, Robin gripped at your arm and pushed you close to Nancy as she leaned in to speak to you two better. 

 “Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music.”

 You nodded your head a little. “The night at Eddie’s trailer. The only reason I knew something was up was because of the lights outside. But there wasn’t any music..”

 “Right, but that might have been the key difference!” she pointed out. “He said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel, he started to hum.”

 She hummed the tune a bit before singing out the lyrics. “Say nighty-night and kiss me. Hold me tight..”

 “Dream a Little Dream of Me!” Nancy caught on.

 “Yeah, Ella Fitzgerald.”

 “The voice of an angel!” you and Nancy gasped.

 “Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe that’s the key, a lifeline.”

 “A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy added.

 “Something to ground them.” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But would that have really worked at the stage when you and Eddie were calling out to Chrissy? It wasn’t just a trance she was in, she was being lifted off the Earth. You were so lost in thought, you almost missed catching your friends checking over their shoulders. 

 “You’re gonna have to lose those.” Nancy muttered towards your feet as she stole one more glance.

 “Lose them?” you asked confused, looking from your feet to the guards behind you three.

 “I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispered. This time it was Robin’s turn to be confused.

 “What?”

 “To the car.”

 Robin’s face paled a bit at the idea. 

 “Okay. I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination. Like it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies.”

 “Yeah, I’m not really any better.” you sighed, feeling the rush already start to climb up your body. “Last time I tried running off I got caught.”

 “She’s right.” Robin nodded. “Those Russian guards caught her in seconds.”

 Nancy gave you two both exasperated looks before she sternly turned towards the way she wanted you three to go. “Just follow my lead.”

 “No, my God!” Robin panicked. 

 In a split second the three of you sprinted off in the lawn. Shoes flying off feet as you ran through the grounds, past the orderly and patients that covered the large lawn. The guards continued to call out for the three of you to stop but you guys pushed through. 

 Behind you Robin was panicking, and you were trying to control the dry heave that wanted to come out of your throat as you attempted to follow Nancy. You could hear one of the patients call out as you all zoomed past him.

 “Cinderella, you dropped your shoe!”

 You were definitely gonna have to buy Karen Wheeler a nice pair of pumps after this.

 Somehow you guys managed to make it to the front of the Asylum. The air burned your lungs and you let out a tired cry at the sight of the station wagon. All of you quickly climbed inside, shutting the doors in record timing. Nancy’s hands were barely on the wheel before the guards began to pound at the windows.

 “GOGOGOGOGO!” Robin babbled, panicked at the sight of the men. 

 The tires screeched loudly as Nancy shot out of the parking spot. It’s a mess of emotions as you let out a small thankful whine while Robin continued to panic.

 “Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 “You really are a weird runner!” Nancy said to Robin, earning an annoyed look from the girl. Dustin’s voice perked up from the radio, cutting into the quick celebration.

 “Robin, where the hell are you? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!” 

 “Max!” you gasped, allowing Robin’s steady hand to take the radio from you. 

 “Dustin, it’s Robin. We copy!”

 “Holy shit, finally! Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out!”

 “It’s music! She needs to hear music as a lifeline. Use a song she’s connected with to bring her back!”

 The line went painfully quiet.

 “Oh God.” you gasped, feeling the tears spring to your eyes. Not Max. It couldn’t happen to her. Not the small girl who sparked such a fiery personality. The one who offered you nothing but a genuine friendship back home. The only person who understood what it was like dealing with the real Billy. She was your friend, she was like family at this point. And despite the current rifts that hit your current relationship, you still deeply cared for her. 

 If she was going through what Chrissy and Fred did—you weren’t ready for that reality. 

 “Please not her.”

 Robin could only reach forward to grip at your hand while Nancy pressed harder on the gas. Jerking the car a bit as she sped back towards town. You quickly  began to hyperventilate, wondering if you’ve just lost your dear friend when suddenly Dustin’s voice broke through again.

 “We got her! Shit..She’s back, it worked!”

 All three of you let out a sigh of relief together. 

 “Thank God.” you heard Robin whisper.

 The beat of your heart is still erratic and you cover your face to take a second and catch your breath. It wasn’t over yet. You guys still had time. 

 “Time?” said a familiar deep voice beside you. 

 Slowly, you pulled your hands away from your face. Around you the world began to shift, turning into the dark middle of the night as it took you into a different reality. You were driving suddenly. Holding onto the large wheel of the car that seemed so familiar. 

 “No.” you whispered, shaking your head, this couldn’t be real. You were..you were just in the station wagon. Turning your head, you were shocked to find Billy sitting on the seat beside you. Mouth still oozing from the dark blood as he threw you a smirk. 

 “Don’t you know, babydoll?” he asked playfully. “Times up.”

 You were so shocked, so stunned to see Billy outside of a dream, that you never really noticed the headlights that were coming your way… 

  “DUSTIN! STEVE! WE NEED HELP! – OH SHIT, SHE’S CURSED GUYS, HOLY SHIT! — GODDAMNIT, ONE OF YOU BASTARDS ANSWER ME. – WHAT’S THE SONG!? – STEVE! WHAT’S HER FAVORITE SONG!?”

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter was a bit lengthy, but I could not find it in myself to skip out on Victor’s story. The actor, gives off such great emotion and I’ve been a fan of his when he was back playing Freddy~ ANYWAY, I tried to include some scenes I hope you guys love. Please excuse any mistakes and let me know what you think! Would love some feedback~

TAGGING LIST: k @cluz1babe, @starofavolonea, @primroseluna, & @siriuslysmoking​ 

[stevespookington]

role reversal au part 2! (part 1)

“What the hell!” Eddie shouted, pointing past Dustin at the TV screen. 

Dustin winced and raised his hands slowly, “Eddie, hey, uh… you want to come in and sit down?”

“Yes! We have a couch in the break room, how about you come sit down?” Robin chimed in from over Dustin’s shoulder. 

Eddie’s gaze darted rapidly from between the TV screen and the three of them standing there, Dustin’s hands were still outstretched in what probably was meant to be a calming manner. 

It was not a calming manner. 

“Okay, Dustin. Quick question, why should I stay here and more likely than you get involved with that?” Eddie paused to gesture at the TV screen, hand shaking. “When I could, instead, not?”

Dustin winced again and exchanged looks with the other two. He looked back at Eddie and let out a sigh, “Because it’s probably already too late, Eddie.”

“Dustin you know I am excellent at running away, it’s never too late.” Eddie couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Steve fucking Harrington not only was at his drug stash this morning but he was also most likely the top suspect in a murder case.

“Eddie…” Dustin started, but paused when Robin put a hand on his shoulder. 

She looked over at him and Eddie froze, for Robin wasn’t just looking at him, but was looking into him. Like seeing like. “Hunt the freak.” Robin said quietly. 

Oh. Shit. 

Eddie swallowed shakily. Any reason to go after those who were different, Harrington might be the top suspect right now, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. “That couch is sounding pretty good after all.”

Robin gestured to the back room before she crossed to lock the store door, flipping the sign to closed with a sigh. Eddie followed them blindly back into the break room, still not processing what was happening. Hunt the freak, played in a loop in his head. He sank down on the couch and buried his head in his hands, what the hell happened. 

Eddie looked up at the others, Robin was perched on a chair while Dustin had claimed the other end of the couch. The redhead leaned against a patch of wall, anxiety on every line of her posture. Max? Yeah, Max sounded right. Eddie paused, he had forgotten a very important detail, “Who died?”

Dustin winced again, before he exchanged a look with Max. “Max and I think it was most likely Chrissy Cunningham. We biked by Steve’s house before coming here and it was a mess, police everywhere. We, uh, saw someone get carried out and then we came here.”

Eddie froze. 

“She was pretty messed up yesterday, I ran into her in the bathroom at school and she did not look good.” Max continued before rubbing at her head, brow furrowed. 

Well shit. Eddie was supposed to have picked up Chrissy after the game yesterday. He had gotten out of Hellfire and she wasn’t there, but that wasn’t surprising, people bailed on buying all the time. He figured she had just got swept up after the game and gone to some after party. But not this…

He didn’t think she would have gotten murdered… Maybe if he had wrapped up the session sooner. Maybe if he had looked around more or had just given her weed after lunch instead of promising something harder. 

Eddie swallowed and tried to fight back the guilt swarming him. What fucking if. “Oh, well. Shit. Harrington did that? I thought you said he was okay now, Dustin? Not, uh, a murderer…”

“He’s not!” Dustin shouted, indignation showing in every line of his body before he repeated more softly, “He’s not.” 

Robin placed a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, “Eddie, there’s some weird shit that goes on in Hawkins, weirder stuff than you have seen before. The kind of weird shit involving monsters, but right now what we need to know is what you know and what Steve told you. I can promise you, Steve did not murder Chrissy Cunningham. I know Steve was a jerk back in school, but I swear to you, he has changed. And even back then, he was not going around murdering people.” She leveled him with a clear look, no bullshit, and continued. “Please tell us what you know.”

Eddie desperately wanted to know what shit they had gone through together that Robin Buckley, band geek, was so unwaveringly defending Steve Harrington. He also really did not want to find out first hand, but from the looks that all three of them were leveling at him, Eddie thought he might already be involved in their shit. “Oh, well. She wanted to buy some…” Eddie paused and glanced at Max and Dustin. “Stuff from me yesterday, but she didn’t show up after the game so I went about my night.” Eddie paused and looked down at his feet, hands clenched in his jeans, he had just left. He thought it was alright and so he just left. 

Dustin chimed in, “Wait, Steve was supposed to give me home after Hellfire yesterday… I thought his date had just gone really well, but maybe he ran into Chrissy there? Or something?”

Robin scoffed, “His date most likely did not go well, that dingus doesn’t know what the hell he wants.” Robin stopped herself before she could continue, her brief laughter at Steve’s date cut off as her face fell. “But I can mock him later, more important things now. Eddie what happened next?”

“Uh, well I this morning I went out to Reefer Rick’s place, I was supposed to drop off some cash and pick up some stuff. And out of one of the boats, out jumps Harrington. He looked really fucked up, not physically, just mentally really bad off. And well, I guess dead bodies would do that… he uh, roughed me up a bit. Well, just startled, I think? He didn’t actually hit me or anything, but then he paid me to come here and get a message to you all. Code Red?”

Eddie stopped as the others all inhaled suddenly, the anxiety in the room rocketing up. The three of them exchanged looks and Dustin cursed under his breath. 

Eddie hazarded a guess, “Code Red is bad?”

“Code Red is very bad.” Max said with a jerky nod.

That very much did not sound good and Eddie knew what he was good at, running away. “Well, that sounds, not great. I think it is time for me to be heading home…”

Robin winced and cleared her throat, “Uh, not a good plan. Sorry. But you are probably safer with us for one thing, from what I understand, although I have only really been through this once, things tend to get pretty gruesome after Code Red is called. But also, they are probably… well they are probably going to have you on the suspect list pretty soon.”

Eddie blinked in disbelief and shot Robin a flat look. “What.”

“Uh, the whole ‘freak’ thing?” Robin winced again, “But even without that, Steve hangs out with basically two people. Me and Dustin. I do band, but what does Dustin do…” She trailed off meaningfully. 

Eddie stared blankly at Robin as she made small hand gestures before it finally clicked. Shit. Dustin was in Hellfire, they were going to think that Steve was tied up with something with Eddie. 

Dustin stood up and moved in front of Eddie, a pleading look on his face. “Eddie, we can explain more on the ride there, but I need you to trust me. You are not going to escape suspicion on this and even without all of the stupid people in this town, the implications of Code Red means you probably are still in danger.”

Eddie was very good at running, thank you very much Dustin Henderson. But also… he hadn’t gone looking for Chrissy and maybe he could have saved her from whatever this Code Red worthy thing was. A monster by the sounds of what Robin had said earlier? It sure as hell sounded like he was already going to be a suspect in this mess.

And maybe he could actually save someone this time. Maybe he could help.

He would much rather run away from this whole mess, but it sounded like it was too late.

Towards danger it was instead.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

2:21 ー DENJI. take all of my soul, I'm not afraid to share.

where on earth is he? you glanced sharply at the top right corner of your phone, forgoing your fourth attempt to watch the same tiktok. it was well-past midnight and your boyfriend still wasn’t home yet. 

you checked your messages again.

hey when are you coming home? sent 23:14

baby? sent 23:24

he hadn’t even read them.

you sighed anxiously with a light buzz of irritation. denji couldn’t be giving you the silent treatment over what happened. if anything, you were the one who should be giving him the silent treatment. you glanced in the direction of max, the calathea orbifolia that was your pride and joy before denji let the apartment get too cold while you were visiting your parents for a week. then you came home today ー or rather, yesterday ー to your pride and joy’s leaves flopped over. needless to say you snapped.

now max’s beautiful leaves were gone, the stems cut to soil length in hopes he’d grow back just the same as before.

your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen even though his shift had long since ended.

your upset from earlier now gave way to worry. this was denji. the same denji who woke you up when you were sleeping on the couch to ask if ‘we’re still good?’ before he crawled under your blankets and fell asleep on your chest. he couldn’t be ignoring you, not even if you were upset with one another. and that’s why i’m freaking out. you finally caved and hit the phone icon yet all you received was his voicemail instantly.

you sighed again, shaking your head. “he’s probably at aki’s.” you murmured, not sure who you were trying to convince more. you would sleep in the living room on the couch, just in case. not that you thought you’d get much sleep.

it was almost too coincidental in that moment, however, that the doorknob made the familiar sounds of being unlocked before the door burst open.

relief and anger swept over you all at once as you saw your boyfriend in the flesh, sweaty and breathing hard. “where the hell have you been?!” you whispered loudly, trying not to alert your neighbors. “you’ve had me worried half to-”

“before you get mad,” denji held out a hand, the other behind his back as he leaned against the door frame in loud pants. “my phone died so i couldn’t call or text and i thought about trying to text you from some random person’s phone but i couldn’t remember your number-” the blond took a frantic breath. “but i was tryin’ to find one of those 24 hour supermarkets but of course we live in a part of town where there ain’t none and-”

you waved your hands frantically, “denji, denji, denji breathe!” 

it took a few large breaths before denji finally looked like he wasn’t ready to pass out. “okay,” you finally began. “why were you trying to find a 24 hour supermarket?”

brown eyes glanced over his shoulder with a light grimace, an internal battle clear on his face. ultimately, the side of truth won as denji finally took his hidden arm from behind his back and held up a small bouquet.

the wrapping itself was paper that was clearly ripped out of a notebook and the flowers? they were haphazardly different lengths, some stems poking straight out of the wrap. they were wildflowers, dandelions and cosmoses you recognized right away for some but the others unrecognizable blooms. some looked worse for wear, a few downright had no petals probably lost in denji’s sprint homeー yet all looked 100% hand-picked.

“i was tryin’ to be romantic when i apologized but i couldn’t get any of those fancy bouquets. i kinda had to improvise.” denji sheepishly explained as you gingerly took the arrangement from his fingers, not wanting it to fall apart. “i’m sorry about mack.”

“max.” you corrected without missing a beat despite your throat feeling tight and eyes feeling wet.

“yeah max.” denji continued seamlessly as if he hadn’t butchered your plant’s name in the first place. “i’m sorry, i know how much he meant to you and i’ll help grow him back even if he’s a pain in the ass about the humidity and drainage and needs distilled water instead of tap like a little princess.” denji blanched at his own words. “not that he’s a pain in the ass. i won’t even complain the entire time he’s in recovery!”

“you’re such a goofball” you laughed before hugging your boyfriend tightly; it was the only way you’d stop yourself from crying. “god, i love you so much.” you kissed the juncture between his shoulder and neck, you kissed his chin before you kissed his lips once, twice, three times. you loved this man, no matter how much of menace he could be, you were sure you loved him before you even knew him.

you loved his messy hair in the morning,

you loved his snide comments that swore you loved max more than him,

and you loved the dreamy look in his eyes and dopey smile on his face in this moment especially.

“i love you more” denji grinned widely.

“no, you don’t get to do that when you’re apologizing to me”

“then you’re not mad anymore?”

“not if you keep your promise to help take care of max”

“i don’t have to sleep by myself?”

“no, no you do not.”

(despite denji’s urge to pick you up and swing you around, you refused. you wanted to put your bouquet in some water first.)

a timestamp piece for @cafedanslanuit​ who accurately guessed my haikyuu!! crush. if you’re interested in gettin’ one, there are 3 slots still open (hint he is on one of these two teams: karasuno/nekoma). anyway, i really enjoyed making this one. csm is finally out and episode 1 was perfect. the va for denji is doing such a great job for his first main role. denji needs so much love man, for everything he takes he gives thrice as much as a lover that’s what i feel

[marvelmaniac715]

When I first listened to ‘Just For Once’ about a month ago before I even watched Nerdy Prudes Must Die, I interpreted it as Ruth singing about her potential future past high school. Now I’ve watched the show and I have the glorious context that is Barbecue Monologues, but I’m still thinking, yeah, that seems about right. Think about it, both ‘nerds’ that got murdered died after getting what they wanted (just like in The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals). Richie wanted to be accepted by his peers, and just when he’s accepted by the football team he’s murdered. Ruth wanted to act, and when she gains the confidence she’s murdered, but Ruth also wanted to be in a romantic relationship, which she sings about in her Barbecue Monologue song. As I watched the proshot on YouTube with my friend, I realised that even though Richie got what he wanted, he was still being told that he reeked and that his new friends would go right back to bullying him if Max came back, so what if Ruth’s monologue was a sort of vision of the sort of unhappy suburban life she’d lead after graduating? Both of their happinesses came with a caveat, a note of dread and uncertainty. I don’t know, I could just be crazy but Nerdy Prudes has given me a lot of theories.

[gender-fluidbees]

who wants to read the first chapter of my byler fake dating wip to decide if I should keep writing it?

The Byers-Hopper living room had been temporarily turned into a large cave of sleeping bags and blankets. They had managed to get away with the excuse of Max and El coincidentally having a sleepover at the same time the boys did. Not at all a mixed event. Dustin had been trying to throw popcorn into Max’s mouth while Lucas bugged Will with the same question he had been asking since he came out to them.

“When are you gonna get a boyfriend?” Lucas whined.

Will rolled his eyes and set his soda down on the floor next to him.

“As soon as I find a gay boy in Hawkins that is out and wants to date me,” he said with a dry tone that implied the odds of that were very slim, at which Dustin scoffed as if personally offended without looking away from his mission.

“Will, if I liked boys, I would be all over you,” he insisted.

They all laughed as Will pulled a disgusted face, though he appreciated the gesture.

“Thanks, man, but I’m good.”

“You must like someone,” said Lucas with a raised eyebrow.

Will’s eyes darted to Mike, lightning quick so no one would catch it, but he met his gaze before looking away and clearing his throat.

“Leave him alone, guys,” Mike said, annoyed. Max’s eyebrows appeared to launch off her forehead but she said nothing. Of course Mike would be the one to help him, to protect him. He always was, wasn’t he?

There was a moment of silence before El stood up and stretched.

“I am getting more pizza,” she announced and Dustin went to join her.

They managed to make it another two hours before the topic came up again. This time, surprisingly, it was El who said something. Everyone else was getting ready for bed and she sat next to him on the floor.

“Do you not like anyone?” she asked earnestly. Will sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

She paused before saying, “I hope it stops being complicated. I hope you get him.”

Will smiled and hugged his sister as everyone walked back into the room.

“What are we talking about?” asked Dustin.

“Boys,” El told him.

“Yes! Get my boy some di-“

“MAX!” Will interrupted before she could finish her sentence. His face flushed a dark red and he shook his head in disbelief. This feeling only increased when he saw Mike trying to cover up a laugh with a cough.

“Something funny, Michael?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said, finally laughing out loud.

That laugh. Will had heard it all his life and yet he never tired of it. The way his nose scrunched and his cheeks dusted with pink. It was Will’s favorite way to draw him.

They had all settled in to watch a movie, and the subject was not brought up, but Will’s mind wouldn’t let the topic go.

When would he get a boyfriend, if ever? Why was he stuck on Mike after all these years? Why couldn’t he just move on?

“Hey,” Mike said in his ear from beside him on the floor, “You ok?” 

Will swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mike’s breath had been hot on his cheek and they were pressed up so close against the couch. Will wiped his sweaty hands and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He just needed a moment to breathe.

When he reached the bathroom and closed the door, he finally felt his limbs relax. It had only been about a minute and a half before there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” Will called.

“Will, it’s Mike, I just came to check on you.”

He opened the door to let Mike in and closed it once more. The two boys sat on the cold tile, knees touching ever so slightly.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly and Will sighed deeply.

“It’s stupid, I’m just a bit tired of all the relationship questions.”

Mike nodded sagely and his brows furrowed. Will knew that face. It was the same face Mike made when he had an idea for a campaign. That was a dangerous face.

“Miiiike. What are you planning?” he pouted, shoving the boy.

“Shh, let me think,” he said, putting his finger to Will’s lips for a second. He went cross eyed to look at the hand on his mouth and his heart picked up about ten paces. Mike removed his hand and stood up, beginning to pace the small bathroom and Will stood soon after in confusion.

“Okay, so the party won’t stop bothering you about dating someone, yes?”

“Yes?” Will said slowly.

“And your family is worried you're lonely, yes?”

“Hey! I-”

“Shut up and let me finish. I want to move out of my dad’s house but he won’t let me…” Mike trailed off as if Will could finish the thought for him.

“Mike, literally what do those things have to do with each other?”

He looked at Will like it was obvious and held his hands out in a general ‘duh’ gesture.

“You date me!”

Will caught a glimpse of the face he made in the bathroom mirror, and no words could describe what that emotion was. Will calls it, ‘my-best-friend-who-is-a-boy-and-very-straight-who-I-am-in-love-with-says-I-should-date-him.’

It took a moment for Will to get the word out of his mouth, as it had gotten very dry. “What?”

“You date me! Pretend, of course-”

“Of course.”

“-so everyone leaves you alone and my dad kicks me out because he’s a piece of shit. Everybody wins!”

After a moment, he deduced that Mike was not joking, and the panic receptors in his brain which never did their job correctly made him laugh. Loudly.

“What are you smoking, Mike?”

“What?” Mike asked, offended. He seemed to think it was a great plan. Will caught his breath and leaned against the wall.

“Mike, no one’s gonna buy that. Also, it is not worth losing your family over a joke. What if he- what if he hurt you?”

As Will tried to get Mike to see reason, some part of him wanted to say yes. Some awful, selfish, thirteen year old part of him wanted Mike in whatever way he could get him even if it was fake. 

Mike seemed to think Will’s words over, and he had a moment of hope that the boy would change his mind.

“You think he would hurt me?” Mike asked, as if this had never occurred to him.

“Mike, I’m not saying your dad’s a bad person, but-”

“He’s the scum of the earth, but continue.”

“People do crazy things when they think someone they love might be g- might be like me.”

Mike’s face twisted in a way that churned Will’s stomach. No, don’t be sad, don’t look like a kicked puppy. 

“Well then we gotta do it.”

“What?!?” Will exclaimed, more confused than ever. He thought he had changed his mind, not egged him on.

“Think about it. If Hawkins has a publicly gay couple, it could make it easier for other people.”

“You want it to be public?” Will screeched. Okay, Mike had officially lost his mind, because if he thought the bullying was bad already, just wait until he announced he was a boykisser.

Mike grinned. “Are you agreeing?”

“No! I’m the opposite of agreeing! I’m disagreeing! I am the antithesis to whatever point it is that you’re trying to make!”

Mike just laughed. “The point is it’s a win-win situation. We say we’re dating, we hold hands in front of people, maybe kiss a few times then we stage a break up. No harm done.”

Kiss. He wanted them to kiss. Well, no, not wanted, but he suggested it. Oh god.

“You do realize if your father kicks you out, you might never speak to him again.”

���If that’s the worst case scenario, then this plan is better than I thought.”

Will sighed again, running his hands over his face. He only had so much willpower. The boy he had been in love with for years was offering a free trial on a silver platter and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“How would it work?” he asked quietly, trying not to read into the way Mike’s face lit up when he said it.

“We would walk downstairs now holding hands and tell the party we’re dating. Then tomorrow we tell your family. Word gets around, my dad explodes, I move in with Nancy.”

“That’s it? That’s your genius plan? We need to figure out every step. How long have we been dating? Who asked who? When did you realize you were gay? Are you even gay or are you bisexual? Do we…”

Will trailed off and grinded his teeth. Mike cocked his head.

“Do we what?”

“...kiss?”

Mike paused a second before laughing at Will’s hushed tone.

“I would hope so, if we were dating.”

Will rolled his eyes and grabbed Mike by the shoulders to make him look at him, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the contact. He needed to get this point across.

“Mike. If we were fake dating. If we kissed. Then that means that you would have to kiss me. On the lips. Me and you,” he said clearly, sure that this would be the deal breaker to snap him out of it. Instead, Mike just looked at him with the same serious face, pushing Will’s hands off his shoulders.

“Will. I know. That’s how kissing works,” he said with a shit eating grin.

“And you’re okay with that?”

This was Will’s lifelong dream and worst nightmare all wrapped into one.

“Yeah, I mean, it would be weird if it was like Lucas or something but it’s you.”

He said it so plainly, so surely that Will knew he meant it. And that hurt so wonderfully. His head was spinning. No, he did not want to kiss him, but he would rather kiss him than another boy. He offered.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Mike asked, making Will roll his eyes.

“Mike, when would I have ever had the chance to kiss someone?”

Mike just shrugged and leaned back against the sink. “Wanna practice? Y’know, before we kiss in front of someone else.”

Will blanched. “I- I still haven’t agreed, technically.”

His heart seemed to be trying to escape his ribcage and he willed it to calm down. This was not happening. Mike smiled at him, that wonderful smile, and knelt down on one knee, holding out cupped hands in front of him.

“William Byers, will you do me the honor of fake dating me?”

There was a pause, and then, “Ugh, fine. Get off the floor, it’s dirty.”

Mike stood and brushed off his pants with a haughty sort of pride at having convinced him. The boys looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

“So, uh, what now?” Will asked, fidgeting.

“You never answered my other question.” Mike said, stepping closer. Will’s heart pounded.

“What other question?”

Mike took another step so he was almost pressed against Will, but not quite.

“Wanna practice?”

Oh god. What was he supposed to say? Which answer was less suspicious? If he said yes, he would seem too eager, but if he said no, it would look like he was hiding something.

Mike studied his face and took a quick step back, looking guilty. “Hey, we don’t have to kiss at all if you’re not comfortable with that. Maybe we’re not a PDA couple.”

Will groaned internally. Had he just missed his one chance to kiss Mike Wheeler? It’s not like that offer was going to present itself again.

“No,” he said too quickly, “I mean, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can… kiss.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and stepped back into Will’s personal space.

“You sure?”

“M’sure,” he breathed.

Mike slowly reached out to grab his chin and Will tried not to squirm. His hands were big enough to cradle his whole face if he wanted to. He felt himself being tugged forward slightly and Mike Wheeler was kissing him. It was… disappointing. Will forgot to close his eyes or do anything with his lips and his hands were just hanging at his sides uselessly. Mike pulled away slightly. Well, that was it. His first kiss. Wahoo.

“You gonna kiss me back or what?” he asked with a smirk, his voice slightly scratchy, setting every nerve ending in his body on fire.

Their lips touched again, and this time he responded. He closed his eyes and kissed him back. Their lips slotted awkwardly at first, but Will tilted his head to the right and there it was. This was the kiss that he had wanted. It was soft and his heart was in his throat as he was trying so hard to not fuck it up. Mike pressed closer to him, putting a hand on the wall beside him. His lips opened slightly, prying Will’s open as he skated his tongue across his bottom lip. Will inhaled sharply through his nose and pulled away so he could breathe. His lips tingled slightly and he felt like he was only half awake.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Mike said plainly, looking unaffected. Will drew in a deep breath to steady his thoughts and nodded. Mike stepped away and held out his hand for Will to take.

“Shall we?”

Will took his hand shakily and their fingers interlocked. They had actually held hands before. They did it a lot as kids until they were told they weren’t supposed to. Mike’s hands were much bigger now than they had been back then, and Will hoped his weren’t too sweaty.

They made their way downstairs, hand in hand in the dark living room. All eyes flicked over to them from the TV, aside from Max who hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“What took you so long?” she asked while everyone else silently clocked their intertwined hands.

“Uh, sorry. Headache,” Will said plainly.

“Bullshit,” Max called from the couch.

“What?”

“Bullshit. What happened?”

Although she was blind, Max still never missed anything.

“Uh, well,” Mike said, cheeks coloring, “Me and Will are kinda dating.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Will considered taking his chances with a tall building, but then there was a cacophony of, “Finally!” and “I knew it!”, which Mike made a face at, but said nothing. 

Eventually, everyone was tired enough to actually go to sleep, and they began to settle into their sleeping bags.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as Mike pushed his sleeping bag closer to his.

“Shouldn’t we sleep together?”

Will’s mouth went dry at the wording and he just nodded mutely as he crawled in to go to sleep. Mike did the same, so close that Will could feel his breath on his nose. Those lips. He had kissed those lips. Rather poorly at first, but still. Mike shifted even closer and Will swore all of Hawkins could hear his heart beating. Everyone else had already fallen asleep, it being three in the morning, so it was really just them.

“Mike,” Will whispered, “No one’s watching.”

“Just to be safe,” Mike whispered back, and leaned in, pressing their lips together quickly before pulling away and laying his head down, still facing him. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

Will sighed. “Goodnight.”

If this plan didn’t go to shit, he owed the universe a lot of money.