#eggo expresses

[eggo-tistical]

sorry can we just talk about how light's choice for another kira proxy (doubling as a manservant) was a pale, sallow faced man with black shaggy hair, who was young enough to be around his age.... like i'm probably reaching but it's both so sickening and pathetic that he selected mikami, who did what L never would: worship light and carry out his bidding

[grandline-fics]

Could I request something with Law please? I'm not sure if you do NSFW stuff or not, but if you do could it maybe be something about after a one night stand, reader finds out her eggo is preggo and how law reacts?

If you don't do NSFW that's totally fine too! Maybe something about Law having a crush on femme reader who joins the crew, but they don't know she's a devil fruit user until a battle and they see her in action? She has a logia type that allows her to control water and become water.

DESCRIPTION: You find out you’re pregnant after a one-night stand

WARNINGS:  Mentions of pregnancy, suggestive descriptions but nothing explicit, some angst

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,121

A/N: Sorry you had to wait so long for this and I hope you like what I managed to come up with for the pregnancy prompt

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

Law knew a distraction would jeopardise the plan he’d formed. He knew letting himself have his attention be diverted from the goal at hand was stupid. He was the personification of logic and yet he still found himself looking across the room at the sound of your laughter. He knows better, he should know better. Now was not the time to be drawn in like some lovesick child. Still he can’t help himself. He can’t help how he feels about you, or how he keeps thinking about  the way his hands twitch, wanting to feel you again. He’d told himself one lapse of judgement was enough, as amazing as it had been. As he lifted his drink to his mouth, he couldn’t help but compare the taste to the memory of you. You were far more intoxicating, dizzying, and delicious than any alcohol that passed his lips. 

When you tucked your hair behind your ear as you talked with one of the crew, the action exposing your neck that he knew was sensitive. His dark eyes flickered to your fingers, lightly cradling your drink and something new came to his mind. Throughout the night he had yet to see you take a single drink from your cup. If he hadn’t been failing miserably to ignore you he wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Suddenly his mind switched to that of the focused doctor and watched you for a reason that wasn’t because of his feelings he was in denial about.

Any time you lifted the cup to your lips as though you were about to take a drink, you would lower it to continue the conversation you were having. It happened far too much to be a coincidence. Law knew you well enough to know nothing would interrupt you from drinking if it was what you wanted. There was only one reason why you would do this. Without thinking he rose suddenly and crossed the room, whatever Penguin was about to say to you died on his tongue at the appearance of your Captain who was looking far too intense. You looked over your shoulder and kept your expression impassive, your gaze only dropping when his hand gripped your upper arm. “We need to talk.” he told you sharply, leaving no chance for you to answer before he was all but pulling you out of the bar and leaving the rest of the crew behind to enjoy the rest of their night. 

“So what’s wrong Captain?” you asked calmly, pulling free from his grip and ignoring how his eye twitched at the title. The last time you’d called him by his name was the night you’d spent together and after agreeing it was best being left as a one time thing, you reverted back to only addressing him as your Captain in order to make things simpler. When Law didn’t immediately answer your question you turned to face him fully. “You sounded urgent in the bar. So is there an issue or isn’t there?”

“Are you pregnant?” The question was soft and yet it hit you hard, the implication of the reality you’d been trying not to think about was said aloud. It had been only a couple of weeks since you and Law slept together but you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of being pregnant until Penguin handed you your drink in the bar. Law, ever observant seemed to notice almost instantly just from your behaviour in one evening and you could curse him for that skill. Why couldn’t you have had just a little more time to come to terms with it on your own first and then tell him yourself? “I honestly don’t know.” Was the only answer you could manage out.  

He could have used his Devil Fruit then and there to find out for sure but instead the two of you walked back to the sub and he found a pregnancy test in the medical supplies for you to take. Perhaps it was to give you both more time in tense, ignorant bliss, the strange limbo of it still being only a possibility and not a certainty. You sat beside him, staring at a medical chart on the far wall, anything to avoid looking at the test, your stomach, or Law. 

“If it is positive-” his voice began slowly and you let out a small hollow scoff that interrupted him.

“Probably worked out well we’d docked on an island. Don’t have to worry about any more traveling.”

“You’d leave?” Law asked tightly. 

“You’d want me…us to stay?” You asked finally looking at him, confused about why he seemed so pained about you going. “You didn’t want a relationship because it was too much of a distraction which I understand and respect. A baby would take you from your goals even more than just being with me would. I wouldn’t stay only for you to resent my presence or the baby’s. If there is one.” You explained before rubbing your neck. This was such a mess and all your fault, you knew pursuing Law would be a bad idea. With him being your Captain and knowing he was focussed solely on his own ambition it was going to end badly but you just had to go and let your emotions get the better of you. 

Law reached forward and lifted the test into his hand, staring at the tiny little mark that felt like a huge weight in his hands, the tiny mark that signified the new life he was responsible for. The Surgeon of Death had created a life. He’d never considered it before, or rather he’d never allowed himself to think about something like this. Having a family was a cruel and dangerous daydream to indulge in after losing his own and Cora. It was painful to think about repairing some of that trauma and yet here he was now faced with that reality. Could he allow himself to have something good again? Yes there would be risks but if it was with you, wasn’t it worth it?

He glanced at you to see your eyes had locked into the result on the pregnancy test. You were completely frozen, as though frightened to make a noise or any movement out of fear of disturbing him. Suddenly you jumped when his hand settled over yours that had been resting on your lap, the action causing his fingers to graze against your stomach. Just holding your hand was enough to make him feel more grounded, more settled from the previous yearning he’d had when you were apart. Law took a breath, lifting his head to meet your stare. You could both do this. “Please stay.”

[princess-lnfinity]

SHOUT-OUT TO THE GHOSTIES!

I don't usually get to jump into a BBH stream, but when I do I'm always pleasantly surprised. They're always so welcoming and nice! They always catch me up to speed as quickly as they can! And they love to pester their streamer juuuuuust right, so it's NEVER intended as harsh or rude.

But what REALLY surprised me is how well they handled the "Tio Bad loves Richas more!" Situation! As a Crow, we know Lullah expresses her feelings through her words. She is emotionally intelligent and easy to read when you actually stop and listen. Most of the Ghosties got that Lullah was actually upset right away when talking about spending time with her Tio Bad. While most of her signs had a bit of sarcasm early on in the conversation, they read between the lines easily. Some told BBH to really consider her feelings while others laughed along with him in his weird approach to defuse the situation. Others even made suggestions for Lullah to get her day with her Tio.

While "Who's your favorite" is NEVER a fun conversation, I think BBH handled it well enough! But the Ghosties? They handled it great too! I saw no one BASHING Richas for acknowledging and even relishing in the fact that "Uh YEAH! I absolutely spend the most time with my Tio and I LOVE IT". I know Richas is a gremlin with a heart of gold, but to see the Ghosties not even TRY to blame him was so adorable. Because, while it was neither of the Eggos fault, some people REALLY take Richa's nonchalant attitude as him not caring when we all should KNOW he'd be upset at the mere THOUGHT of being left out suddenly. We also should know that Lullah needs her time to connect with those she loves because SOMETIMES she doesn't get it and it's THE WORST 😭 (See "You and me. You and me always.")

Early on in the QSMP recall a lot of misplaced anger at Richas. I also remember it with Lullah as well. So to have them both put against each other, no matter how small of a quarrel, made me think I would have to close the stream. I was wrong.

I've never been happier to be wrong.

[zerokrox-blog]

Steve has a handshake with each kid. Even Mike Wheeler has a specific handshake, they all are elaborate but each one ends with a specific move to each kid, Dustin with the lightsaber move, Lucas's ends with a fake basketball shot, Max's ends with them both pretending to leap on to a skateboard, El pretends to drop an eggo with Steve falling to 'catch it', Will throws a flourishing signature into the air with Steve pretending to catch it with his hands held out like paper, and Mike to everyone's surprise ends with he and Steve pretending to be shot in the chest. It's DRAMATIC™️. Both boys lay on the floor for one full minute before getting up and pretending it didn't happen.

The first few times it happened in front of the party Nancy rolled her eyes so hard until they pretended to be shot, each of them 'shooting' the other. Holly thought it was HILARIOUS and copied them.

The Hellfire club however was in shock when King Steve came in to pick up the younger kids and Dustin immediately went over, hugged him and started their handshake, Will came over next for his hug and handshake, then Lucas. All of them talking over each other and excitedly told Steve about the day's newest adventure in their campaign. Mike looked awkwardly at the older boys, at Eddie's dumbfounded expression, Gareth, Jeff and Grant looked surprised, Rachel, Clair and Alex and Corey looked strangely at the group of freshmen babbling away to Steve Fucking Harrington. And Mike popped out of his seat as Steve looked up at him, and Mike saw the soft smile on his face kinda drop a bit at the look on his own face. He felt embarrassed to be honest but he also wanted his handshake, he'd never tell a soul but it was nice having something that was solely his and Steve's. So he went over and held out his hand. Steve looked directly at him, his eyes held the question he would never ask out loud, 'is this ok? Are you comfortable doing this?' But Mike kept his hand out and Steve's face lit up.

Grinning, the two of them did their elaborate handshake ending with them 'shooting' each other. Steve very super dramatically grabbed his chest and slowly sank to the floor and flopped down 'dead'. Mike laughed out loud before dropping down beside him.

A full minute passed until both of them stood up and without even making eye contact, Steve's voice was remarkably calm when he asked, "so Mike, did you kill anyone this session?"

Mike shook his head and rambled a bit about their session as they gathered their stuff. All of them heading out with a wave and a bright "bye guys! See you all tomorrow!"

The drama room door slammed shut behind them and it was oddly silent until Eddie turned to Gareth, "did you all see that, or did I just hallucinate Steve Harrington doing elaborate nerdy handshakes with my sheepies?"

The room exploded into laughter, "nah man that actually happened!" Jeff said snorting with laughter.

[elkyralt]

I'm going to write this now as I'm watching the goodbye stream, to add my two cents and whatnot.

The community has always been a huge part of the project, if we put the actual server aside for one second. The fanart, fanfics, headcannons, theories, comics, analysis, videos, memes, all of it was just as important as the actual players and server happening. The community was as much the lifeblood of the project as the actors involved were, and for that I can give a big thank you to all of you in the QSMP tag reblogging and creating under QSMPblr. I've adored each passing moment here - that including the rougher eras because as a community I've seen very measured responses from people truly passionate about the purpose the QSMP was there to serve - to unite communities.

As I'm watching Quackity talking about the fact that even if the QSMP as a project has ended, his desire in bridging cultural and language gaps is still present and something he wants to continue creating for. So yes, even if the server is currently ending, what has been achieved will forever be present. I'd never even thought that I'd be in a community with so many different nationalities who are not afraid to express themselves in their own languages and cultures, and especially I'd never thought that I'd be eagerly waiting to congratulate mutuals on their national holidays and things like that. In that, it's made me want to get closer to my own culture since I've never really properly grown up where I come from and I think that is something to be cherished.

I'd never thought I'd rekindle my passion for language learning and now be able to watch videos and streams in Spanish to understand the majority of what's being said and laugh along in chat, nevermind that same passion being rekindled or created for thousands of others. We have so many languages here and it's insane to even think about isn't it? People in the community that speak: Portugese, French, English, Spanish, German, Korean and probably more! I've been trilingual for the major part of my life, and have known Italian really well for a long time on top of that, but the QSMP as a whole has opened up my perspective on language like I'd never thought anything could.

THAT BEING SAID. Thank you to the creators involved in the project. It was clear to me as early as from the first days - before the translator - when the creativity and passion of the creators broke through those initial barriers and helped form the meaningful connections we find today. The roleplayers that created stories and characters very near and dear to me are absolutely to be praised, personally, I'd say q!Cellbit, q!Roier and q!Etoiles are my favourite characters to come out of this and those that I will keep creating and blogging about. Every character that came out of this is incredible though, everyone even down to Jorgito the IV drip and Posolito the capybara are utterly, indisputably, definantly: peak. Im greatful to the duos or groups that have emerged thanks to the translator and opportunity, just a few examples being: Cellbit and Roier, Badboy and YD, Pierre and Maximus, Etoiles and Phil, Missa and Phil, Cellbit and Baghera, Tubbo and Pac, etcetera! All of these connections between CCs were really entertaining to watch, and all due to the QSMP.

ALSO THAT BEING SAID. Thank you to the actors behind the scenes doing as much of a part as the streamers themselves. The eggs were all absolutely wonderful as NPCs and breathed life into the server like no other. All of them, all portrayed such different characters with realistic personalities and struggles that to me have always been stupendous at staying in character at all points. Lullah, Chayanne, Richas, Tupperware (Dapper), Patitas de cheto (Bobby), Leo, Tillin, Juanna, Trump, Chunsik, Em, Pepito, Sunny, all of you eggos have made the QSMP an unforgettable experience, and you admins deserve to get recognition. Massive thanks also go to the designers, writers, actors and managers behind the project as well, just as important in keeping the server running and fresh in how it was.

General thanks to the project for achieving what it has. Uniting communities, creating an incredibly story and characters, opening mine and other's eyes to more diverse cultures, rekindling passion for language learning and just so much more shit I could talk about for hours. This server has been an incredible ride, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving it completely.

Of course, the QSMP was by no means perfect and I'm not trying to make it out to be. It has it's issues and I'm completely aware of that. I think the impact and beauty the server has had is something to be celebrated regardless because it's something on a scale not done before.

I'm still going to be here, posting and creating about this SMP even after it closes. I'm still gonna be here posting silly clips and making long posts like this one that will maybe get 5 notes - but that's fine with me. I'm proud to be part of this community and experience as a whole, since Day fucking 1 - and I regret none of it. To all the people I've met over this thank you so much for being the people you are, keep creating and learning.

Thank you, QSMP, QSMPblr and Quackity Studios.

[beansprean]

Art for the Exchangeapalooza gift I got from dear @yougoadedme!!! Ranch N' Rider Weekly: Special Edition - please go read it it's so good

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Marwa dressed in cowboy boots, jeans, and a pink flannel shirt rolled up to the elbows. She has one boot up on the bottom slat of a wooden fence and one hand braced on the top slat, the other in her hip as she grins into the distance. The background behind her is a rolling green field and rows of pine trees in watercolor. She is wearing a gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring.

2. Waist up of the Djinn, human, on a vague purple background, dressed in a flannel version of his salmon shirt tucked into his usual brown trousers. He is smiling indulgently, looking up over his glasses and holding up a bottle of margarita mix in one hand and tequila in the other. The margarita mix reads "EZ Margs - Delicious Margaritas at the snap of your fingers." The Djinn says, "I live to serve...liquor." He is also wearing a gold wedding band.

3. Guillermo sitting at a coffee table on a vague real background. There are a few black playing cards with white writing sitting on the table and Guillermo is on the side closest to the viewer, topless, and turned around to face the viewer with a sour expression. His face is flushed red and sweating, eyes darting away from the image before him. The image before him is this: human Nandor, having leaped fully onto the table in a crouched position in nothing but a white jock strap with pink hearts, flexing both of his arms with a triumphant grin and crowing, "I win!!"

4. Close up of human Colin Robinson, aged about 7 or 8, wearing a green flannel open over a red tee shirt. He is grinning excitedly, eyes shining, as he places a cowboy hat with a beaded turquoise band over his head. No less than five speech bubbles full of unintelligible babbling surround him.

5a. Nandor and Guillermo stand in a paddock, the former wearing a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up tucked into jeans with a silver horse belt buckle and the latter wearing a blue embroidered western shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a light brown cowboy hat. Nandor has his back to Guillermo's front and a leather bridle looped around his neck and shoulders. He holds the bit in his hands, but the ear strap is pressing directly into his throat. Behind him, Guillermo is holding the reins in both fists and is pulling them taut so Nandor is forced to lean back into him. Nandor's face is flushed, expression dazed and struggling to be stern but clearly not altogether displeased with the situation. He mumbles, "Guillermo, what...are you doing?" Guillermo's eyes are wide and wild, as if he isn't fully in control of his actions, face red and sweating profusely. 5b. Behind them, Colin, wearing a red cowboy hat with a strap and a long sleeved yellow shirt under an orange tee shirt that says 'Lego my Eggo' with a picture of a Lego waffle, stares at his uncles from atop a horse. The horse, Glitterfoot, is gray with a lighter mane and darker nose and ears, a white blaze down his face. He is properly tacked up western style, the reins in Colin's loose hands. Glitterfoot is also staring at the other two men, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he and Colin await instructions.

6. Guillermo and Derek sit across from each other at a table in a bar. A neon sign on the wall says "Sassy Cat Bar & Grill & Tack & Feed & Haberdashery. Mon-Sat 9am-12pm 2pm-2am" Guillermo, wearing an untucked red-violet flannel and jeans, is sitting with his back to the viewer. The back of his wooden chair has a burnt-on design of a rearing horse with a cat on its back, wearing spurred boots and waving a cowboy hat in the air. The Guide, human, leans one hip on their table and stares at Guillermo with a flirtatious grin, pen and notepad poised and awaiting their order. She is wearing a sparkly black beret, hoop earrings, a black and purple flannel shirt mostly unbuttoned tucked into a high waisted jean skirt, a gold horse belt buckle, and sparkly black thigh high cowboy boots. Her hair is curled and teased out big and poofy. Human Derek, sitting across from Guillermo in a brick red Henley and jeans, leans his crossed arms on the table and grins expectantly at Guillermo, waiting for him to react. Guillermo's shoulders are hunched up defensively and he has his face half turned away from the Guide toward the viewer, flushed and sweating nervously. /End ID

[theoriginalsapphic]

Okay, it's been long enough:

Mike was trying to call Will; not El.

The ending scene in season 3 is about Mike and Will; not Mike and El.

How can I be so sure about it? It’s simply by one of the most basic rules of storytelling: show, don’t tell.

To put into simply terms, “show, don’t tell” it’s a technique which transmits information to the audience through actions, words, subtext, thoughts, senses, and feelings, etc., rather than by straight-up telling the audience through surface exposition.

To use a film that probably everyone is familiar with as an example, in Up it’s showcased how Carl and Ellie were deeply in love with each other through a five-minute wordless montage of their life. Without that scene, even if Carl had spent the rest of the movie saying how much he loves Ellie and how he misses her, the audience would probably had not formed an emotional connection with Carl and his story of love and loss like they did with a five-minute scene.

What’s more effective? Which one evokes a more vivid image in your head?

Sarah was sad, so she started crying.

Sarah laid motionless, tangled in a disarray of bed sheets she hadn’t changed in over a week. Tears leaked down her temples and into her ears, but despite the mild discomfort, she remained frozen, glued to the threadbare mattress.

Show, don’t tell.

So, with that being said…

Why do people believe that the last scene in season 3 is about and Mike and El and mlvn?

Up until here, it could be said it’s debatable whether this is about Will or El; El is in the U-Haul truck with Joyce, while Will is in the other car with Jonathan. Both vehicles are on seen on frame driving away, so it could easily be about either of them or even both of them. also, nice parallel with the season 2 finale, with, once again, both Will and El in different vehicles driving away while Mike is framed in front of the Byer's home.

However, that changes during the length of the scene.

What is Mike afraid of?

But what changes he is scared of? The series doesn’t tell; it shows.

The series doesn’t say aloud that Mike is scared of changes related to Will, but it shows it by having Mike somberly stare at the Byers’ house in this scene. If the series wanted to show that Mike’s emotional reaction in this scene is about El then they would have him look at something that the audience can immediately connect with El, like Hopper’s cabin or Eggos or anything that we would immediately relate to her.

The scene that follows this scene just reinforces that this is about Mike and Will by drawing a visual parallel between the two times that Mike felt like he has lost Will.

And even having a verbal confirmation by Mike himself the following season.

Following this train of thought…

Why do people still think that the phone calls were meant for El?

I’m not going to say that Mike told El that they were communicating through Cerebro, or that they couldn’t talk through the phone because the government may had been spying on them because that doesn’t matter.

What matters is what we were shown in the screen, and we were shown is that… El never complained or even mentioned phone calls. Will did.

El never mentions any phone calls or struggling to communicate through the phone with Mike in the entire season. The whole ‘phone calls’ situation is a topic of conflict brought between Mike and Will; not El.

The series has Will verbally express his discontent with Mike’s lack of phone calls while El never even talks about it, so why would anyone relate ‘Mike won’t stop calling’ with El when she never raised a problem about it?

El later appears in the scene that shows the audience that Mike did try to call, but the series doesn’t focus this scene about Mike and El at all. It focuses on El and Max instead.

The series has the chance to relate Mike’s missed calls with El in this scene. Instead, they show two things:

Missed calls were never a source of conflict between Mike and El but is one between Mike and Will, thus confirming that Mike’s missed calls were meant for Will— not El.

El’s priority is saving Max and not her relationship with Mike, just like it will be in season 5.

[trigunconspiraciesdaily]

legato my eggato

[ID: An edit of Legato from Trigun 98, shown to be holding an Eggo waffle with a cold expression. End ID]

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Eleven: Once Bitten

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: swearing, violence, horror, family issues

[A/N: Okay, I lied when I said this would be the last chapter because I hated the first draft and decided to alter everything so now we get some extra time with our favourite enemies to... we'll see ;)]

Once Bitten

April 3rd, 1985 Morning of The Apocalypse

The alarm startled you, heart racing as you reach over and smack it silent.

You had been led down staring at the ceiling for a while now, waking up earlier than you intended to. That faceless thing was in your nightmares again, grey claws ripping into you before you woke up in a fit of sweat. You didn’t cry this time. That was promising.

The ‘support group’ Hopper was sending you to wasn’t helping anything. They expected you to talk about drugs, an addiction you apparently had two years ago, so that they could treat you like a project. You only attended because you were sick of feeling crazy. Hopper didn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe you.

It took all of 20 minutes to get ready, stuffing your backpack with textbooks you’d be ignoring. But you had to look the part, to convince your father that you were trying.

As you slip out of your room, the familiar smell of Eggos filled the air. El pretty much refused to eat anything else for breakfast.

“Y/n.” El’s small voice calls out, her now shoulder-length hair swinging as she peels her eyes away from the TV.

“Hey.” You smile, dropping your bag and joining her on the couch. “You seem cheery.”

“Uh-huh.” She nods and you notice she has her hands behind her back. “Hopper got me a present.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, amused. El was an easy kid to please, but she looked much more excited than she has before.

“Do you wanna see?” She asks and you laugh.

“Obviously.”

Another smile and she brings her hands around towards you, curling them into fists and stretching out her arms. You laugh again at her actions, shaking your head.

“What am I meant to-” You begin before your voice catches in your throat. Something blue was staring back at you, adding salt to an ever-growing wound consuming you. “Is that…”

“Hopper’s band.” El says as if she’s repeating it from practice, fiddling with it. “He said I was important. I’m going to take good care of it.”

Tears were already pooling in your eyes before you had even assessed the situation. Your little sister’s hairband now wrapped around the wrist of a girl you had only met a year ago. The last remaining part of your sister given to a stranger she’d never known. Hopper gave El something so important to you like it was nothing.

“Okay, I’m heading out soon.” Hopper announces as he steps out of the bathroom, fixing his hat. It was the only room with a mirror, a luxury if you woke up early enough. “Y/n, you ready to go?”

You don’t respond and he turns to where you and El sit together, frowning.

“Y/n?”

“How could you?” You whisper out and El looks up surprised. Looking into her eyes, you take a deep breath before forcing a smile. “Hey, could you go to my room for a little bit? I wanna talk to Hopper. You can go through my comics again.”

He tenses at the mention of his name rather than ‘dad’, but you ignore it.

“Okay.” El nods hesitantly, slipping off the couch and disappearing to her room. You should have waited for the click of the door closing, but you were unaware she’d be following the rules; leave the door open three inches at all times.

“Did you give El the hair band?” You stand up to face him and shoulders relax, taking a breath. It looked like he was expecting this conversation, running a hand down his face as he takes a step towards you.

“I did.” He admits softly, meeting your eyes.

“Why?” You shake your head slowly with blurry vision. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she’s our family now.” He starts, frowning in attempt to think through his words. Hopper had never been good at expressing how he felt. “It felt right.”

“It felt right?” You repeat, struggling to not raise your voice. There was an indescribable pain building in your chest that made you want to scream, to cry and sob until it washed away. “Replacing Sara feels right?”

Hopper’s face falls. “I’m not replacing her.”

“I sure feels like it.” The first tear slips down and you angrily wipe it away, letting your hand point to your bedroom door. “You can’t just treat her like a second chance!”

“I’m not.” He says calmly, too calm for your liking. “Let’s just take a breath.”

“Do not tell me I’m crazy.” You warn, voice cracking and destroying your attempt at steadiness. “Ever since you brought her here, it’s like you completely forgot Sara ever existed!”

“I can never forget.” He raises his voice now, ever so slightly to ensure you knew he was serious. “I think about her every single day. But we can’t just keep holding onto the past-”

“She wasn’t some kind of pet, she was real! Family!” You cry, stepping forward with a frown. “She was my sister, your daughter, and you’re just throwing her away! That hair band is all we have left!”

“And now it is safe!” He shouts before exhaling. He turns around to recollect himself, speaking softly. “Do you know how long it has taken me to look at it with anything but guilt? Sara… her memory can now be protected by someone that deserves it.”

“A stranger?! El didn’t know her!” You sob. It was uncontrollable now, your rage. It came from a darker place, one you hadn’t visited in a while. It was frightening to know you could feel this kind of fury. “What about me?! Am I not worthy enough to take care of my sister?”

“That’s not-” He turns back around, holding a hand out before pulling away with it in a fist. “We can’t talk about this while you’re…”

“Acting up?” You scoff. You needed to get out of here, clear your mind. It felt like there was this weight pushing harder and harder on your lungs. If you stood here any longer, you were afraid you would be crushed completely.

So, you march straight over to your bag, slipping it onto one shoulder and pushing past Hopper.

“Hey!” He calls out as you make it to the door, angrily snapping open the multiple locks Hopper had installed. “Don’t walk away!”

As your trembling fingers catch the last metal rig, you rest your head against the door.

“If you wanted a new family, you should’ve said so.” You say lowly, refusing to face him. When he doesn’t speak, you slide the last barrier and hear the familiar click as you turn the doorknob.

“We both lost her, Y/n.”

Just as you pull the door open, you’re frozen. He sounded tired, broken. Like he was done fighting with you this time.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it.” He continues, his voice hoarse. You could hear his boots clumping against the ground as he slowly tries to close the distance. “But I’m here-”

“Don’t bother.” You interrupt, turning around. Tears were staining your cheeks. You never truly met his eyes, fixated on the bridge of his nose because you knew if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to win this argument. Why did you care about winning?

“You’ve been nothing but a- a shit father to me ever since she died! Like you don’t even like me!” You yell, hoping it’ll keep him away from you. He looks a little startled, but he doesn’t speak a word. And then those fears are rising to the surface, slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sometimes I wonder if you wish it were me that died instead.”

It was like his heart was visibly shattering, dawning his expression with pain. “Y/n-”

“I’m leaving.” You cut him off, swinging open the door and stepping outside, unable to resist turning around just one last time. “I’m glad you’ve finally found a daughter you can love.”

And with that, you slam the door shut, moving through the maze of the alarm system like second nature. You expected to hear the door open again, the thump of wooden floorboards beneath a sorry father’s weight, the familiar shout of forgiveness carrying in the wind.

It stayed silent, as quiet as the tears that dripped down your cheeks. He wasn’t coming after you this time. You’d finally won.

But what did you really win?

Steve visibly buffers as his eyes keep darting between you and Billy. He hated how you smiled at eachother like you were passing secret notes with your eyes. He hated it so much he couldn’t resist blurting out the first thing in his mind.

“How do you know eachother?” Steve questions, a frown permanently staining his delicate features as his eyes flicker between you and Billy. It was unsettling. More than unsettling. Worlds colliding in a heaping pile of flames.

“Oh, we go way back.” Billy replies suggestively, smirking at how uncomfortable Steve looked. “What’s the matter, Harrington? Not expecting that?”

Your worn expression of unamused proportions flickers between the two as they inch closer. Steve looked like he wanted to throw a punch, whilst Billy looked intentionally smug about it.

“I sense I’ve missed something.” You decide, looking to Robin as she threw a dirty look to the boy clad in denim. “Okay, calm down, no one’s trying to kill eachother.”

“That’s not what happened last time.” Steve spat, still glaring at Billy. Your eyes widen.

“Huh?” You prompt, a flash of unrecognisable guilt in Billy’s features before he’s smirking again.

“Old times.” Billy’s vague answer doesn’t settle the bubble of anxiety you feel in your stomach.

“Why are you here?” Robin glares and your brows shoot up. You knew she didn’t like him but you didn’t expect the scowl on her face to hold such anger.

“That lot was practically dragging Max out the house.” He nods in the direction of the Party, their heads lowered as they share in a hushed discussion, completely oblivious to the older kids. “Didn’t have enough room in the chief’s car so I drove us here.”

“I didn’t see your car.” You frown and he purses his lips.

“It… blew up.”

Steve snorts, not even trying to hide it.

“Damn monsters.” Billy throws a pointed glare before returning back to you. “I actually volunteered to go down to the flippity thing.”

“Upside down.” Robin scoffs, crossing her arms like she had more knowledge of the situation than the blonde boy in front of her.

“Whatever.” He dismisses, resting a hand on his hip. He smirks at you. “Figured I got nothing better to do.”

Steve couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder. Here Billy was, acting like this mission he probably heard about two minutes ago was merely an errand to run. He could try all he wanted, he would never be the hero he’s pretending to be. Never.

“Okay, listen up.”

Hopper strides back into the room, glancing to you with a smile which you feebly return, wanting to curl up in a ball. You still felt embarrassed about your outburst.

“Joyce and I are gonna come up with a plan. We need to work on both sides here, someone manning communications while others help El try and find this… thing we’re looking for. Nothing can go wrong here.” He addresses the whole room, a few nods on determined faces. “If Y/n’s right, and something else is out there controlling these gates, we’ll put an end to this for good.”

And if she’s wrong, she’s going to put everyone in danger they don’t deserve, you think, tightening your lips.

“Mike, Lucas, I��ll need a quick count on provisions. I don’t want us being in there any longer than a few hours but we need to be prepared.” He instructs, the two boys determinedly running off to carry out their duties. “Dustin make sure those radios are ready and fully charged.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Dustin salutes, swiping some batteries from the table before sauntering off into the next room.

“Will, Max, we’ll need at least two backpacks.” Hopper suggests and they nod, sending a quick look to eachother and disappearing into the sleeping quarters.

“As for now, Nancy I need you here so we can strategise.” He says and the girl looks confident as she walks up to the table, peering at the worn map covering the wooden inches. Hopper glances up. “You too, Billy.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later.” Billy winks at you, suddenly adopting a whole new persona as he respectively smiles at Hopper when joining the planning circle, even going as far as shaking his hand. Steve frowns. It’s weird. Very weird.

Robin sounds a hum and you turn to look at her. “Well. Since we got out of homework, what say we go relax-”

“Can you guys go on patrol?” Jonathan’s voice interrupts and you all glance over to where he was walking over, still pressing an ice pack to his head. “I’m meant to be doing it now with Nancy but she’s busy and I’m…”

“Concussed?” You tilt your head as he smiles weakly. “Been there. Of course we will.”

“Thanks.” He sighs gratefully, sending a reassuring nod to Joyce as her worried eyes follow him around the room.

“Great.” Robin claps her hand, smiling up at you both. “You guys have fun.”

“Wha-” You pout as she tries to walk away, your arm immediately reaching out and pulling her back. “Nuh-uh, you’re coming with me.”

“Do I have to?” She whines and you send her a look, one she’s only ever seen when you’re desperately needing an alibi. “Jeez, fine, whatever. Who doesn’t love the thrill of potentially getting your face ripped off in the morning?”

“That’s a… vivid image.” Steve twists his face in a grimace as you drop your shoulders. Robin is already surveying the weapons table when he leans closer to you. “She doesn’t have to come with us. I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Um…” You take a look at her, circling through all the different responses in your head. “No, I… I want her to come with us. If this apocalypse doesn’t end anytime soon, I just want her to know how to protect herself, maybe be a little more confident.”

Steve frowns as he watches you walk over to Robin, seemingly explaining which items would prove best in a fight. He felt a little twinge of disappointment when you didn’t want to go with him alone. After that talk, you opening up to him about something so personal, he assumed… he wasn’t sure what he was assuming.

“Wanna tell me why I’m your get out of jail free card?” Robin raises her brow and your lips tighten, reaching for a heavy knife and inspecting it. “Woah, okay, don’t tell me, message received.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, putting it back down. “I just want to help you be a little less scared, that’s all. We need to be prepared.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounds unconvinced, hand hovering over a pistol but you simply shake your head and she grabs the next item on the table. “The hell is this?”

You look down and widen your eyes. “Oh, Robs, be careful, that’s a-”

Her finger accidentally settles on a trigger and a jolt of electricity crackles loudly, a little too close to your hand and you jump back. It falls from her hand as she yelps, looking like a child that had been caught playing with their mother’s makeup. She notices the concerned looks from her peers in the room.

“My bad.” She raises her hand apologetically before reaching down at carefully picking the taser back up. She looks to you with a grimace. “Did I get you?”

“No, Robs. You get me, you fry me alive.” You breathe out, checking your hand. “Maybe we should teach you how to use that.”

“Perfect time, right?” Steve comments, leaning past you for his bat and you try to ignore how your heart rate increases when he’s close to you. “As long as you don’t tase us or yourself, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, give the clumsiest girl on the planet electricity, what could go wrong?” She expresses, but she takes the taser and turns her back to stomp her way up the stairs.

Steve can’t help but laugh, hand on his hip. “It should be interesting.”

When you don’t respond, he looks down at you just in time to see you look away, clearing your throat.

“Uh, yeah. Totally. We should, uh, we should follow.” You blurt out, swiping the knife and nodding. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He says with a suspicious smile, amused at the way you’re avoiding his eyes. What were you hiding?

“Y/n.” Hopper calls out, ending a conversation with Joyce with a gentle pat of her shoulder and walking over to you, extending his hand to show you his keys. “The tank needs filling up, there should be some gas by the door.”

“Got it.” You smile, taking his keys, but he doesn’t bid farewell. “Anything else?”

“Just…” He sighs, frowning. “You shouldn’t have any problems, but the minute something is wrong- even just feels off-”

“We’ll be fine, dad.” You reassure, his lips flickering beneath his moustache at a name he hadn’t heard in a while.

“I know you will, kid.” He says as you jingle the keys and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie, walking up the stairs to find Robin.

Steve goes to follow until a hand is on his shoulder, redirecting him back to Hopper’s stare.

“Don’t let anything happen to her.” His words aren’t a warning, rather a plea. Steve nods.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve nods, and he meant every word.

“So, why am I your Steve buffer?” Robin asks, practically jumping out behind you when you reached the next landing.

“Fuck, where did you come from?” You hold your hand to your heart, taking a breath.

“You. Harrington.” She narrows her eyes and you roll your own. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on what’s going on here.”

“Yeah, just like you picked up on Miss Click’s secret affair with Dan Shelter?” You point out, her lips tightening.

“That was the only time I have ever been wrong.” She defends, crossing her arms. “It’s not like it hurt anybody.”

You scrunch up your face. “She almost got fired.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Yeah, because I took the blame so you wouldn’t get in trouble.” You remind her and she relaxes her shoulders, looking a little guilty. “Hey, not your fault, I wanted to do that.”

“You got detention because of me.” She said a little quietly and you let out a chuckle.

“Robs, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that was like two years ago-”

“Not then.” Robin corrects and your face drops. “If you hadn’t… if I just… you would have been okay. And you wouldn’t have had to survive the apocalypse with a guy you can’t stand to be around.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” You step forward, frowning. “It was mine. I… I wanted to get detention. That whole thing just gave me a reason to.”

“Who wanted detention?” Steve’s voice interrupts and you both stay silent, causing him to purse his lips. “Oh-kay, girl talk, huh? I get it.”

Robin stares at him in disbelief and you suppress a smile. Fuck. This was getting harder than you thought.

The reason you wanted Robin here wasn’t because you wanted her to be. It was true, giving her the skills to protect herself was going to be worthwhile, but part of you just wanted to keep her bundled up in bubble wrap, safely hidden away. You’re just afraid that if you go with Steve alone, you’ll do something you’ll regret. Something you promised your past self would never happen.

A stubborn promise slowly being shattered by Steve’s warm smile.

The walls around you were pale, much like the brightness of the bulbs hanging above your head. Your nerves were alight, waiting for them to begin flickering madly, stopping everything and everyone around you, the black dust…

None of it made sense. It wasn’t possible. Alternate dimension? Sure. Monsters? Yeah, why not. But freezing time? No. No way.

And yet, it happened.

You weren’t ready to talk about it yet, though. Not that you were sure anyone would believe you. It took Hopper to actually experience it before he believed you had almost been attacked. In fact, the only person you wanted to talk to was currently trailing behind you in a one-sided conversation with your chatty best friend. He seemed a little more open minded. Never called you crazy, genuinely wanted to listen. But you couldn’t talk to Steve right now. Not while you were having trouble looking anywhere but his eyes and lips.

So, instead, you lead Steve and Robin through the maze of harsh lighting, the soft drone of Robin’s voice muffled by your thoughts fighting to not recall the grinning monster that had thrown you into that wall, or dragged you through a pool of blood on the floor.

Behind you, Steve couldn’t resist the concerned gaze he had on the back of your head as you led them through eerie corridors, never stopping, barely looking at them. He knew you must be spiralling about everything that has been happening. He sees what it’s doing to you. The smart quips forced out of your mouth to stop you from thinking, that pause you always seem to have before striking a smile as if even your brain was struggling to hide emotion. He notices that wobble in your lip you catch between your teeth, any and every reason to stop yourself from admitting you’re not okay.

Steve can’t believe he knows all of these things. Four days ago he wouldn’t have even cared.

“I get why a person would hate Billy Hargrove. I mean… it’s Billy Hargrove.” Robin says, the only part of her rambling Steve finally managed to tune in to. She had a habit of cutting the awkward silence with a conversation even more awkward. Her speciality, really. “But why do you hate Billy? It’s not weird high school boy testosterone reasons, right?”

“No.” Steve sighs, finding the humour in her way with words. Robin felt like someone he wished he had as a friend, an easy talker. She always spoke her mind, regardless of the situation. She made him feel like he could say anything and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Well, maybe not anything. She’s made it pretty clear that she would do anything for you.

“Then what?” She scrunches her face. “You seriously looked like you were gonna murder him. So I have to assume you both had some sort of fight. Unless it’s for different reasons. Maybe Y/n told you about- but that doesn’t equate to holding yourself back from manslaughter-”

“What are you talking about?” Steve couldn’t help the chuckle escaping his lips. He takes a quick glance to where you trail in front, completely oblivious. “Y/n didn’t tell me she knew Billy.”

“Oh, right.” She nods, snapping her fingers. “I forget. You guys are mortal enemies or whatever.”

He chose not to respond to that statement. “What’s their deal anyway? They seem…”

“Chummy?” She suggests, groaning. “Ugh, barely. She seems to like him, though. No matter how many times I tell her she’s a poor judge of character, she just doesn’t seem to listen.”

“Like him? Like… like him?” Steve frowns and Robin grimaces.

“As if.” She says and he has to prohibit the breath of relief from sounding into the hallway. “They were partnered for a project way back. Pretty much spent almost every day together for two weeks before he stood her up and never talked to her. She kept calling but, alas, no response.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an asshole who just uses women.” Robin comments with spite, “What other reason would there be?”

“So… he used her?” His face scrunches as Robin sighs.

“No. God, no, they had… I don’t know, a moment or something, but she’s too smart to be pining after him.” She explains, waving her hand in the air as she spoke. “Y/n would never let anyone take advantage of her again.”

“Hm.” Steve nods, staring at his shoes as they softly squeak against the floors. You seem completely not phased as you swing the gas can around absent-mindedly in your hand and he wonders if you’re too caught up in your own thoughts. You and Billy? It was as if the universe catches wind of his desires and throws a bullet hole in them. “Wait. Again.”

“What?” Robin looks up like she had already forgotten the conversation.

“You said again. Someone taking advantage of her again.”

The blood drains from her face. Steve can’t help but stop, causing her to stop with him. She looked somewhat mortified as she sends a panicked look your way. Thankfully, you really weren’t paying attention to them.

“No I didn’t.” She says plainly and he almost laughed.

“Robin.”

“No.” She shakes her head profusely. “I said… ag-ing. Ageing. Yes.”

“Ageing?” He cocks a brow. “You said that she wouldn’t let someone take advantage of her ageing?”

“She is ageing very beautifully.” She coughs and he narrows his eyes.

“Robin.”

“No.” She hold up her hand and steps back. “I will not be succumbed by your Jedi mind tricks.”

“Jed-what?”

“It’s not my business.” She states with a serious stare, tightening her lips. Her voice is a whisper, afraid of the echoing walls. “I… I don’t know when to shut up sometimes. Maybe I’m just trying to trick everyone into thinking I’m not constantly living in fear, but I will literally talk until someone stops me. And most of the time I don’t think before I speak. Like now, I- I have no idea what’s gonna come out my mouth and the next thing I know I’ve revealed something that isn’t even my business to be sharing in the first place.

“But-”

“Y/n is my best friend. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s my only friend and I don’t know what I’d do without her so please. Please. Just forget I said anything. I can’t lose her just because I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

If it weren’t for the overhead lights, Steve would never have noticed the glimmering tears pooling in her eyes. He knew she really meant what she said. She looked terrified. And Steve wasn’t going to be the person to ruin what Robin obviously cherishes most.

“Any chance they have some real food when we get back?” He finally speaks and she raises her head in surprise. “I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty sure all they’re gonna have is nutty bars.” Robin comments, flashing a small smile of appreciation. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“Hey?”

They both whip their heads to where you stand at the end of the hallway, frowning. While you hadn’t been focusing on them, once the noise of their conversation had lowered you had taken notice.

“You guys good?” You ask and Robin steps forward, patting Steve’s back.

“Oh yeah, we’re peachy.” She grins, “Practically besties now.”

“Don’t say besties.” Steve shudders and you tilt your head in disbelief.

“Really?” Your eyebrow raises and you decide you really didn’t need to spend energy on this. “Whatever, let’s get outside before it gets dark.”

With no objections, a few short steps later lead you stepping over a pile of broken glass, looking up at the foreboding red sky. It would have been a pretty sight if you hadn’t of known what caused it.

“The sun’s setting pretty fast.” Steve announces, brows pinched. “Let’s get this ride filled up and get the hell out of here.”

“Amen.” Robin shivers, the cool crisp of air hitting the back of her neck that remained uncovered from that impulsive haircut.

You’re already at Hopper’s police car, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia when you look at it, as if it hasn’t only been three days. But it’s different this time, because you honestly couldn’t say you were ever going to see this car again. Thinking of the worst will only heighten your anxiety, but expecting disappointment saved you from those harsh realities hitting any harder than they should.

“How long is this gonna take?” Robin whispers out, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s cold and I’d like to be back inside with all the other nice, shiny weapons.”

“Almost done, Robs.” You sigh, discarding the empty can and picking up the second from the ground. “There might be a blanket in the backseat if you really need it.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll survive.” She shakes her head, bouncing on her feet by shifting back and forth between each foot.

When Steve finally had enough, he rolls his eyes and slides his jacket off, holding it out to her. Robin’s eyes are wide as she silently accepts it. Anything was better than the sharp air she stood in. It was April, for god’s sakes, and here she was, shivering like she was trapped in an ice cube.

“Thanks.” She mumbles and Steve hums. She looks up to see he was distracted, eyes unwavering. Her first thought was that he was keeping an eye out, but when she followed his gaze she realised it was rather keeping an eye on. Which on the scale of normal to ‘hey, look, an apocalypse’, it was weird.

“Unbelievable.” Robin mutters to herself.

“Huh?” Steve finally tears his eyes away from you to see Robin looking up at him with a scowl. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know what you did.” She glares, folding her arms and hugging herself tighter.

“I can honestly say, I don’t.” He blinks and her lips tighten.

“You do anything to ruin it, anything at all… I will hurt you.” She warns and Steve physically recoils.

“Did I get another concussion and forget about it?” He frowns, “What-”

“Okay, all set.” You announce, dumping the final can and turning with a smile. “Let’s get back inside- Robs, why do you look like that?”

“See?” Steve expresses, clicking his tongue, “I don’t know, she’s-”

When Steve turns to Robin, all he sees is a pale face and wide eyes, the complete opposite of the look she had given him seconds ago. He felt his arm hairs raise like soldiers on a field of goosebumps, prickling in the ice-cold of her terror.

“We have to get inside.” She whispers, voice cracking.

Everything felt dead silent, your heart rate beating your ear drums and you slowly turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

A pair of eyes lock onto you, masked behind the blood dripping from the mouth of what once used to be a person, now turned monster. She looked about your age, wearing jeans and a hoodie, much like the clothes currently clinging to your body. Except she looked at you with hunger, a sliced mouth ripping apart her skin into four sections. But that wasn’t the part that made your insides twist.

You found another pair of eyes. And another. And another. And another. A sea of dead, endless eyes, all looking at you like they were angry, like they held a deep and dark grudge against your very existence. Your breath didn’t hitch. It simply couldn’t when you couldn’t even breathe.

Her dead eyes were looking straight through you, and you couldn’t do anything for her – all that blood. You couldn’t -There was so much blood.

They all looked like corpses with agility, the concerning wait as they hunger for their food, but never attacking. They looked like an army.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Steve curses, muttering under his breath as he cycled through the ideas of escape swarming in his eyes. The three of you couldn’t fight them off. There were so many, he was sure he lost count. And they were here. Why were they here?

“Why is no one counting to three?” Robin asks in a panic and you both look at her with silent confusion. “Usually someone is counting to three whenever we have to run away from literal death. Someone needs to count to three right now or I’m gonna freak-”

“Okay, okay, just calm down.” You hiss, grabbing her hand and she tightens her lips. You look up to Steve, “We counting to three?”

“I don’t see any other option.” He whispers back, chest rising heavily. He watches the indecision flash behind your eyes as you struggle.

“One.” You eventually say and Robin stands a little straighter, nodding as she turns herself towards her end destination.

“Two.” She replies, just as quiet as she shook. She wasn’t cold anymore.

Steve meets your eyes with a frown, his gaze flickering between you and the angry mob of monsters in the distance. You seemed prepared, desperate. For a moment, he really thought he wouldn’t say anything, too afraid that you’ll pull your usual self-sacrifice. So, he reaches out and grabs your hand, your eyes widening ever so slightly at the touch, but he wasn’t about to let you repeat past mistakes.

“Three.” He finally breathes, and then it’s a rush of motion.

You’re all taking off, sneakers tracking up mud as you sprint across the grass. Robin was slightly ahead, gripping the taser tightly in a fist. You had Steve’s hand to hold on to instead, feeling him tug you along every so often.

He finally drops your hand when you reach the lab, fully aware of the singular gap of shattered glass you all had to jump through. You feel the familiar crunch beneath your feet, risking a rushed look over your shoulder before you come to a complete stop, frowning with heavy breaths.

They hadn’t moved. Not one turned monster had tried to catch their prey. They were simply… watching.

There was a tug on your hand again and you stumble back into a run, feeling Steve’s resolute fingers intertwining with yours the entire time you weave through the hallways, back to that familiar bunker door, even all the way down those echoing metal steps until you were back in a room of safety.

Heads whip your way when Steve eventually releases your hand, using his to run it through his hair as he took in deep breaths.

Robin was a little more dishevelled, dropping herself to the ground to lay on her back.

“I… am… never… doing… that… again.” She managed to sound out, squeezing her eyes shut with a hand over her heart.

You try to suck the oxygen back into your body as you lean against a wall, earning a cocked brow from the mullet wearing boy at the centre table.

“Quiet night?” He jokes, but your serious expression changed his tone immediately. “What happened?”

“Monsters.” Robin gasps, finally sitting up. “I fucking hate monsters.”

“What happened?” Hopper repeats, pushing away from the table and walking over to you with a concerned frown etched between his brows. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine.” You nod quickly and he lets out a sigh of relief. “The chevy’s all fired up.”

You toss him the keys and he snatches them out of the air with one swift fist.

“What did you-”

“Y/n?”

You feel your body stiffen as the sweet and quiet voice calling out to you. For just a moment, you could have sworn it was Sara.

You peer around Hopper to find El pushing out of the group in the corner, her face breaking into a smile and before you know it, she’s ran up and wrapped her arms around you.

“I missed you.” She states, voice muffled by your hoodie.

Tears prick at your eyes as you rest your head on hers, embracing her like she might slip away from you. “I missed you, too.”

“Awwww.” Dustin coos, looking like he might cry, too.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Lucas pats his back, a crack in his voice as he dons the same emotional expression.

“Men.” Max rolls her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips all the same.

“When did you wake up?” You ask softly, pushing her away only enough to see her face. Her curly hair was a bit of a mess, dark circles under her eyes.

“A while ago.” She responds, glancing at Hopper. “Hopper needed to talk to me.”

Hopper’s warm smile quickly dropped as he clears his throat, nodding.

“It’s about the plan.” He explains in its simplest term, meaning that he didn’t want you to know all of it, at least not until he had spoken to El first.

“Yeah, okay.” You force a smile, finally letting her go. “We’ll talk later.”

She beams up at you as she follows Hopper out of the room and into the adjoining one. You watch them start to talk behind the glass, like you were observing a secret conversation you’d never be a part of.

“You guys gonna tell us what the hell happened to you, then?” Max raises a brow, shrugging when people look at her as if to say ‘really?’. “What? I’m just asking what we’re all thinking.”

“We had a run in with a hoard of people.” Steve sighs, rubbing his temple as he sets his bat back on the table, returning his hand to his hip. “Well, not really people.”

“Weird mutant people.” Robin corrected and Steve nods, pointing at her.

“Demopeople.” Dustin whispers out and Steve does a double take.

“Really? Demopeople?”

“You got another name you wanna share with the class?” Dustin spits and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Sorry if I just think we could be a little more creative here. Demogorgon. Demodogs. Demopeople. It’s just getting a little repetitive.”

Dustin stares at him with a deadpan look. Steve doesn’t take the hint.

“What’s next. Demobirds? Demobats? Demohippos-”

“We get it, Steve!” Dustin stresses and Steve just pulls a face.

“God, why are they like that?” Robin shivers as the image reawakens in her mind.

“We think it could be a virus.” Mike announced, so casually as if it was a conversation about dinner.

“Virus?” You ask, feeling a little startled by his suggestion.

“Don’t worry, none of us have it.” Dustin pats your back and Steve hides a smirk when you slowly push his hand away.

“Why do you think it’s a virus?” You persist as a shiver ran down your spine. You wrap your arms around you to mask the sudden feeling to your friends. They didn’t seem to take any notice.

“You guys seen them before?” Steve asks, glancing at you when he sees you jolt, trying to cover it up.

“A few.” Nancy replies this time, and the others nod in accordance. “A lot of people in town were like that.”

Their faces said everything they didn’t. You know because you’ve had that expression, the dawning realisation that the person trying to kill you wasn’t really a person anymore.

“Mr Holloway?”

His wild eyes suddenly darted upwards, staring at you.

Then, he pounces.

He’s snarling as he claws at your jumper, pulling you down to the ground with him. In haste you try and push him off of you, but this man was a lot bigger than you, wrapping his hands around your throat and smashing your head into the cold ground.

Struggling against his weight, he rears his head closer to you.

“Stop!” You try, his tightening grip on your neck releasing the word as a strained whisper.

“But how did they get it?” Robin questions and Will looks up from where he had been staring down at his hands.

“An infection.” He says quietly. “All of those people… they were bitten.”

“By the Demogorgons?” Steve’s eyes are wide with mild terror and curiosity.

“And the demodogs. Maybe.” Lucas adds.

“Whatever it is, it’s not getting in here. Now come on, we have work to do.” Joyce reminds them gently and the boys collectively sigh before trailing over to where Max was already sat.

Steve watches as she bats away Dustin’s hands, his pout when Max won’t give him the radio. It was strange to see how normal everyone was reacting to this whole situation, even the indication that any one of them could be infected with a virus that could turn them into monsters, no, zombies. But that normality was probably the only thing keeping everyone sane right now.

Could there really be some kind of virus? It made sense, people with the mouths of the very creatures that had attacked them. But surely that was barbaric. No way was the Upside Down going to be that creepy.

“What a load of bullshit, right? A virus?” He scoffs out a laugh, hoping you’ll laugh too and set his mind at ease. He wants you to agree that it is all a lie, that there wasn’t something else out there to be afraid of.

But when he looks over at you, your face has fallen, and you look ill.

“Y/n?” He whispers out and you clear your throat.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m… tired. I think I’m gonna grab some sleep.” You nod, eyes directed at him but not really looking. It was like you were in a haze, accompanied by a concerned look on Robin’s face.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t really sleep last night so… so I should try.” You say a little airily, convincing yourself more than them.

“Do you want me to-”

“No.” You cut Robin off with a smile, already heading to the door. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You pushed through the doors and left them stood there, exchanging glances of worry.

“She’s not okay.” Steve states and Robin almost rolls her eyes.

“No shit, Sherlock.” She mumbles, talking again before he could retaliate, “Maybe she’s just scared? I mean her dad is about to go on a suicide mission down into a place crawling with all kinds of chomping virus monsters. I’d be pretty god damn terrified too.”

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, but he was lying. Something felt wrong. He’s been there when you’ve been through something traumatic, and right now he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more phased in the last three days than you did just then.

You lower yourself into the sleeping bag in the far corner. It looked untouched, all the others spare from two were covered in various trinkets, creased from use. You figured the two at the very back were made up for you and Steve. When you settle on the ground, you notice a familiar black and bulky material, a bag you hadn’t seen since detention. The one Hopper found when he tried to look for life in a building surrounded by dead bodies.

Hopper. Your dad. Why weren’t you reacting more to this? You had fought, screamed, cried when he suggested he’d be going. And now he’s officially heading there, and you feel numb. Maybe too much has happened for your brain to take notice of how fucked up everything really was. Or it could be because you had more pressing matters to occupy your brain storage.

It could be a virus.

A load of bullshit, right?

An infection.

Your hands shake as you reach down with your eyes squeezed shut, painfully rolling up your jean leg that had seen better days.

When you open them, you’re staring down at a torn piece of fabric wrapped around your ankle, a single tear trickling down your cheek. You strip away the bandage and choke back a gasp.

Small little puncture wounds wrapped across your skin, like teeth marks. And there were black veins too, snaking across your flesh, creeping up your leg.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Twelve: Down The Rabbit Hole ->

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @80saestheticismyfav .

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Pancake | Mat Barzal

Your first date with Mat Barzal

warnings? none

wc: 739

“Pancakes or Waffles?” 

“Depends,” you respond. 

“Depends? What do you mean it depends?” He asks, laughing that signature high laugh of his. 

“It depends!” you insist, matching his wide grin. 

“Okay tell me,” he says, still smiling but trying to settle into a serious expression. 

“If they’re homemade I pick pancakes,” you say and he nods in response. “My mom made the best pancakes when I was a kid.” 

“If they’re store bought, it has to be blueberry eggo waffles.” 

“What about regular or chocolate chip?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“Nope. Has to be blueberry.” 

“Alright alright,” he says absentmindedly, pulling your hands into his over the table and playing with your fingers. 

“If it’s restaurant food, pancakes all day.” 

“So you like pancakes better over all?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“Nope, it still depends.” 

Mat grins widely, unable to contain his sheer joy in your presence. He thought you were absolutely ridiculous, and yet he wanted to hear every single word that left your mouth. Wanted to write it all down and read it over and over, keep it to himself so that no one finds the true 7th wonder of the world. 

“So, we’re at a restaurant. I should get pancakes,” he states, still grinning. 

“But what kind? Blueberry, strawberry, buttermilk, chocolate, sprinkles?” 

“Depends,” you say and Mat rolls his eyes but doesn’t mean a second of it. He wants to know your answer. 

“Blueberry and strawberry are too healthy but that’s your choice, buttermilk is too plain, and sprinkles are too sweet.” 

“Chocolate?” 

“Chocolate is the perfect middle,” you say matter of factly. 

It was ridiculous. He loved every second of it. He wondered if he would ever stop grinning. 

“And what do you get? Or is that a loaded question?” 

“Only if you have an hour,” you joke. 

Mat felt like he was walking on air the entire night. He always felt like that around you, your energy and joy never ceasing to flow into him. To have the honor of taking you on a date? Mat was over the moon. 

“Desert?” the waitress asks and you and Mat cast glances over at each other. 

“Just give us a moment,” Mat says, knowing you were a fiend for sweets. 

“Is desert just as complicated?” he asks when the waitress walks away. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Well?” he asks, egging you on. 

“Milkshake and french fries.” 

“No way,” he says and you grin like you’re the expert of all gourmet food. 

“Just trust me,” you say.

How could he not? He had trusted you the minute you opened your mouth to say hi to him. He has an overwhelming feeling of security around you. 

The waitress comes back with one milkshake, two straws, and a plate of fries. She grins at the two of you like she knows something you don’t before backing away with the reminder that if you needed anything to let her know. 

“Okay take a fry,” you instruct Mat. “Now dip it into the shake and enjoy.” 

Mat looks at you skeptically but does it anyway. You watch as his face contorts from one of confusion to pure happiness and you smile alongside him. 

“Okay you’re ordering for me from now on,” he says around a mouthful of fries. 

“I told you to trust me.” 

Mat pays for dinner and leads you out of the diner into the busy new york city streets. His hand slips into yours and it feels like a bolt of electricity has shocked him from end to end. He has the strong urge to never let go again. 

The walk back to your apartment is calming besides the rapid beating of your heart. Surprisingly the two of you are quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable, it’s everything you needed and more. By the time you get to your apartment, you realize you didn’t want to end the night. 

“So,” Mat starts “I really hope we can do this again.” 

“I’m insisting on it,” you respond and Mat grins looking at the ground to hide his blush. 

You start to turn and walk into your apartment but Mat grabs your wrist. You turn back towards him and he hesitates, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. He dips down to meet you, his lips like honey on yours, sweet and perfect. 

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers before letting you go, leaving you speechless. 

[cider-est]

The full line up will take some time so for now have this!!!

Designing process under here

General thoughts: Wanted to make designs that fit the characters but also that gave the vibe that they're children (like 8-12 years old).Thats why, in some cases, the clothes dont exactly match: they're kids who are dressing themselves! Main inspiration was "cute kid clothes" from pinterest and memories from primary school lmao. Their names are also their signatures!

Pomme: Hijabi Pomme!!! My original designs for Pomme didnt have one, mostly because I wasnt sure if children that young wore hijabs (still not sure tbh, but should be fine i hope) but its cute so im keeping it. It defies gravity and has apples on it!! She has fake fairy wings that children wear, MASSIVE beret. Also she's a demon! She has a horn on her right which matches with Dapper, and a leaf shaped tail! Shes wearing light up sketchers (though I might change it in the future)

Tallullah: As you can see, theres 3 Tallullahs since i couldnt decide which design to go with. The one with a yellow jumper and the one with the poncho are more similar to popular fanon design, while the purple jacket is more "emo" (but it fits her "sensitive" personality more imo). She has a Poppy and an anvil cat pin in her beanie and some purple hearing aids. Also her hair is short because its always bothered me people making it long since her model has short hair. Like girls can have short hair too!! (its canon now too YIPPE though i drew it before she got a haircut). She's the tallest egg!

Chayenne: One of my favourite eggos, I really like the fanon design so I mostly based it off that. Only thing to note is that his floatie emotes, like it mirrors his expressions and he has swimming shorts with wave patterns. Also he's one of the shorter eggs (I find his height difference with Tallullah very cute, especially since he has a "protector" role).

Richarlyson: Again: fanon design is perfect, no notes there. Only thing I changed was I made his T-shirt MASSIVE (you cant tell since his arms are up but it is big) and hes always using a running prosthetic since he's so hyperactive, it'd be a pain to keep changing it over and over again. He has an ankle bracelet aswell, each bead one of his parents! Though I may in the future change up his hair, I dont like how I drew it😭😭.

Thanks for reading and ALSO: if you have any feedback on any of the designs Id love to hear it!

[eggo-tistical]

thinking about post-yotsuba light going about his new life and never outrunning himself.

it starts out relatively innocent: adding extra sugar to his coffee in the mornings and when he realizes it he dumps the lot in the sink.

opening his mouth to say that he’s done in the shower, then closing it right back up.

having a brief conversation with the task force and getting frustrated when they don’t catch onto his point immediately.

seeing a pair of baggy jeans and a white longsleeve tee in the window of a store, walking a little faster on the street.

developing the habit of circling his hand around his other wrist like a phantom handcuff.

checking the weather report almost obsessively, staying inside if it rains.

throwing out the worn chess set in his bedroom when he can’t stand to look at it any longer.

then it gets worse; glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, dark circles underneath his eyes, before always turning off the lights whenever he’s in the bathroom.

visiting bookstores to buy armfuls of shitty ‘who done it?’ mysteries, promising himself to get some reading in before sleeping, but they all end up beneath his bed as he pulls more and more all-nighters.

turning into somewhat of an adrenaline junkie, allowing his family (who are all so proud of him) or misa to rope him into day trips to amusement parks, if only to feel his heartbeat go faster and his palms start to sweat (all natural human reactions).

scrolling on his laptop and encountering this stupidly colorful ad for a dessert cafe that just opened, turning in his chair to ask a ghost if it wants to go.

curling up below the covers in the dark, twisting around absentmindedly to pose a riddle or protest another accusation, and only finding a cold dip in the mattress where L used to lie next to him.

but it’s fine. it’s fine because he’s kira, and this is his new world, and he won. he has won, alone in his room, his life, and living — he is alive, he’s sure of it. and that’s more than his equal can say.

[scoops-aboy86]

Not Dating, part 3

part 1, part 2, parts 4 & 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 - also on ao3

Eddie needs better self esteem. In the meantime, he's wallowing and indulging in that Triple Decker Eggo Extravaganza that El told him about. (The great thing is, it's only 8000 calories.)

The first thing Eddie does upon getting home is slam the door of the brand new double-wide that still doesn’t feel quite like home. New walls and new furniture and Wayne had to start a whole new mug and hat collection, which sucks because most of it had been from his long haul trucker days and everything had had a story behind it. Now the stories are mostly, ‘look what I found in a bin at the thrift shop.’

His uncle looks up from the newspaper he’s reading in his (new, not quite broken in yet) recliner and mildly raises an eyebrow. 

The second thing Eddie does is stomp over to the phone and grab the jack that connects it to the wall. “We don’t need this for a few days, right?” he snarls, keeping his voice and expression hard because as soon as he lets up on that facade, the second it cracks, he’s going to fall apart. He hadn’t realized how much Steve had been holding him together lately, but now that’s been yanked out by the roots and he feels dangerously unstable. 

Wayne considers for a moment, then shrugs. “Nah, guess not.”

“Good.” Eddie yanks it and continues to his room without another glance. He slams that door behind him too, digs through the detritus on top of his (new) desk to find the radio Dustin had given him, and turns the knob to off with a vicious twist. 

Then he burrows into his (new) bed and screams into his (new) pillow and wishes that none of it had never happened, that he was still in their old place in its old spot where everything was familiar and he didn’t have scars and he’d never spoken more than a few words to Steve fucking Harrington in his entire, goddamn, shitty little life. 

Over the next few days, Eddie chain smokes through both his cigarettes and his pot stash. Maybe he’ll still leave town, but once the initial angry energy drained away he hasn’t felt like doing anything, so it can wait. The only times he crawls out of bed to use the bathroom or get something to eat. And eat. And eat. 

Yes he’s aware that he’s self-soothing with food, and no he doesn’t give a flying fuck. It feels like a black hole has opened up inside him and what it’s demanding is Eggo waffles with every single little square full up with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and M&Ms. (Eleven had mentioned it in an offhand comment once as her go-to Bad Mood Food, and by god that girl is onto something; it’s bready, creamy, and crunchy combined in every bite.)

But it’s not booze, so Wayne hasn’t commented on these additions to the grocery list. And thank fucking god for that because Eddie doesn’t think he’d be able to talk about much of anything without suffering a complete breakdown—just getting out of bed is hard enough. 

The phone stays unplugged, so if anyone (if Steve) tries to call, Eddie remains blissfully unaware. Max broke in on day two to check for proof of life, turned the radio back on and changed it to an obscure channel, and warned him that if he turned it off again she and the rest of the Party would not be held responsible for Dustin’s actions. So, fine, when Dustin radios to check in Eddie responds, but it’s all brief and monosyllabic, literally just a proof you’re not dead’ call. 

And Eddie is left alone. It’s the way he wants it. 

It’s agony. 

After four days of wallowing in exactly what he deserves for falling for a straight boy, Eddie rolls sluggishly over in bed towards the tap of thrown pebbles on his window. He glares at the offending thing, which he can’t even see through the thick blackout curtain. 

“Fuck off,” he yells, and his voice is hoarse but carries well enough. He slumps back down and starts to pull the blanket back over his head, when the tapping comes again. “What about fuck off did you not—”

“It’s Steve.”

Eddie freezes, then shudders and turns to whine into his pillow, the only word going through his mind a frantic litany of no no no NO. He can’t let Steve see him like this, can’t let the object of his hopeless affection know how much this is hurting him for fear that Steve might try to be nice about it, and that would just blur the lines even more and make things worse. And Eddie hasn’t showered, combed his hair, or brushed his teeth in days, there’s probably chocolate on his face, and the way he can’t even pull his shirt down over his belly is just—no. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” he snarls.

“Eds, please, I made a mistake. I fucked up, I know that, but please let me at least try to fix this.”

And oh, Eddie already knows what mistake Steve made. It’s one thing to be friends with the local gay metalhead and social pariah, but to fuck him? Can’t have that, no fucking sir. 

Instead of answering, he buries himself in his blankets and under his pillow and goes back to wallowing in high gear because it’s all he’s good for right now. A few more days in this cocoon and he’ll come out harder, steeled against Steve’s sweet, prettyboy charms that he must not even realize how thick he lays on all the time, and everything will be fine. Just… just a few more days to forget how cared for Steve had sometimes managed to make him feel while fucking him. 

But he’s forgotten that Steve knows where the spare key is—not that the lock on a trailer door is all that robust, but Wayne has insisted lately after the whole ‘hunt the freak’ debacle, and that’s fair enough. 

“Eddie.” Spoken in a shaky but determined voice right outside his bedroom door. “You don’t have to let me in, just… Hear me out, okay?”

Oh, now you want to talk, Eddie grumbles internally. But not out loud, oh no; his plan is to ignore Steve until he goes away. Fuck this, fuck that, fuck everything. 

It sounds like Steve is sitting down out there, thumping against the door or maybe one of the walls and sliding all the way down. Four days apart and part of Eddie still aches to see him, pictures against his will how Steve might look right now. His imagination wants to paint shadows underneath Steve’s eyes, wants to think that he’s at least lost some sleep over this even if it’s a long shot, lips bitten red and begging for a kiss, their first—

Eddie loathes himself. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your question,” Steve is saying, and he does sound tired, at least. That’s something. “It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just had… too many thoughts, it was like a traffic jam in my head. But I don’t want you to think I don’t want this, you. Because I like you, Eddie.” 

I like you.

Like you.

Because I like you, Eddie. 

Eddie has gone so still that he’s not even breathing, and Steve keeps talking. 

“I really do. As more than just a friend, okay? So I don’t… Don’t not come to movie nights, please. If it’s the kids too or just us, I don’t care; I want you to be there. I always want you to be there.”

His first instinct is to be angry. If that’s how Steve really feels, why had he let Eddie leave? Had he even tried to call? Why did it take days for him to show up? 

Then Eddie thinks, Well why wouldn’t it take the better part of a week to come to terms with liking someone like me, and the anger sputters out. 

Because it’s not like he’s a catch or anything. A three-time senior who never managed to graduate (never mind that he’d gotten his GED with flying colors on the first try), known around town for selling drugs and being briefly arrested for triple homicide… Son of a criminal and a drug addict. Raised in a trailer park, a far cry from the big houses in Loch Nora, unless his dad dragged him out that way to case the neighborhood or something. 

And even before the scars, he’d never really thought of himself as attractive. Okay at best. He’s proud of his long hair and his tats—or he had been, before patches of them had gone the same way as one of his fucking nipples. Besides all that, there’s…

Deep in his burrow of blankets, Eddie feels along the lower curve of his belly and wonders if Steve would’ve turned up on day two or three instead of four if he hadn’t gained so much weight lately. Despite how all this had started. Despite the belly rubs and how those kind touches had become something heated, almost reverent. Despite how Steve had always brought him more to eat and drink, sometimes before Eddie even had to ask, like he just knew—  

“... Eddie? Are you still in there, man?”

He can’t contain his loud, scoffing snort, because there are only two ways out of his room and it’s not like he can just shimmy out a window these days. Which hasn’t been a problem until now, when the man of his dreams is blocking the door to offer… what, some sort of pity relationship? For Eddie to be his gay experiment? To be called man during emotional moments like they’re bros or something?

“Okay,” Steve sighs, and Eddie would bet real money that he was running a hand through his hair as he said it. “Guess I deserved that. Sorry.”

And he really does sound sorry, but honestly? That’s not the only thing that has Eddie crawling desperately out of bed. It’s that he needs to see Steve’s face when he sees what Eddie has devolved into over the past few days. Greasy, unwashed, heavier, with traces of his go-to depression meal around his mouth, wearing only an ill-fitting shirt and ratty boxers. Because that’s when he’ll know, right? However Steve reacts when he opens that door, that’s how Eddie will know. 

So he gets up, itching from new stretch marks and stumbling a little with the long put-off need to stretch his legs. Shuffles over and grabs the doorknob so tight his knuckles go an even paler shade than the rest of him, and jerks it open. 

Too quick for Steve to react. And he had been sitting dejectedly against the door, because when it opens in and he ends up flat on his back with his head on Eddie’s one-socked-one-not feet. Staring up at the underside of Eddie’s gut, which, goddammit, means Eddie can’t see his face. 

“Shit,” Steve breathes. And then he’s scrambling up to where Eddie can see he’s flushed all the way down to his chest, courtesy of a butter-yellow Henley open at the collar by a few buttons. 

That’s when Eddie notices the bouquet of flowers clutched in Steve’s hand, maybe a little worse for wear from falling but the bottoms of the stems wrapped carefully in wet paper towel, plastic sandwich bag, and a rubber band. It’s a home job, not from some shop. They’re wildflowers. 

“What,” Eddie croaks. His voice gives out on the rest, which should have been, the hell do you want, Harrington? But Steve… Steve brought him fucking flowers that he’d bothered to pick himself. 

Steve isn’t wrinkling his nose in disgust at Eddie’s unkempt appearance, and he’s not looking away. Instead, he wets his lips nervously and can’t seem to look anywhere else. “Eds, I…” He runs his free hand through his hair, then shakes his head. “Damn, I had it all worked out with Robin and now I can’t remember any of it.”

“You told Robin,” Eddie says slowly. Not even a question, because it makes perfect sense that Steve would tell his best friend everything—and yet it doesn’t, because straight boys never tell anyone. Straight boys usually threaten him with violence to keep him from telling anyone. “About… us.”

“Yeah,” Steve admits. “I needed a sounding board… Sorry, if that’s, uh. If you didn’t want me too. She won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

And why does it sound like Steve is the one reassuring him about that? Steve is a catch. Steve is handsome, could probably have any girl in town if he really put the effort in. Eddie would shout from the rooftops that he bagged Steve Harrington if it wouldn’t probably get him killed—again.  

When Eddie doesn’t respond, just stares at him blankly, Steve thrusts out the bouquet. “Anyway. These are for you. Peace offering? I just want to talk.”

Eddie is so confused. He feels grimy and gross and slow, and he doesn’t know if he still wants to be angry or if there’s still some other feeling buried under the rubble of his composure. So he blinks, opens his mouth, blinks again, says, “Can you put them in a mug or something? I need to take a shower first.”

He doesn’t know how to feel right now, so buying himself some time will have to do.

Parts 4 & 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @tangerinesteve

Tag list (comment to be added or move to the perma list): @westifer-dead @eyehartart @sofadofax

[abibliophobiaa]

Daylight Chapter Six Preview:

‘The Date’ — 9/5 @ 7pm EST ——

Saturday Morning light seeped through billowing curtains. Golden rays casted shadows along the tan carpeting, illuminating the space in a heavenly glow. You could smell that morning Spring breeze — the freshness of it, the tease of a beautiful day to come. The warming March air teased along your skin, gooseflesh pimpling across heated skin.

Heated by the man curled up behind you. His fingers remained curled around your midsection, rings discarded into a tray at his bedside. The touch seeped through the tee shirt you wore, your own fingers itching to reach out and trace the forearm keeping you held in place, while your head rested on Eddie’s other toned bicep, your pillow forgotten.

Breath puffed along your ear. His face pressed into the curve of your shoulder, curls dangling along your skin. If you reached out, you’d be able to tangle your fingers in the feathery curls. Would watch them extend and retract with a bounce, falling messily into place as they always did.

“Morning.”

It was a muffled moan at your neck, his face turning into it as he hugged you tighter, limbs stretching out beneath him. Vaguely, you wondered if he’d even realized what he was doing — holding you tighter, wrapping himself further around you, locking you into an embrace. But you eased into it, a low hum spilling from you as your fingers reached down and trailed along the backs of his knuckles, his laughter making your heart soar when your fingertips tickled along his flesh.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to block out everything else around you. Allowed the simple haven you created here in his room with him over the span of several days. A safe space for you to share and for him to listen, for him to express his heart and for you to open up yours. Smiled to yourself as he relaxed further against your back, and you sank into him, your head nuzzling further into his bicep.

In the distance, his wall clock alerted you he’d have to head out to the shop in an hour, but in here time didn’t exist. At least not right now. Not as he shifted his arm from beneath his head and propped himself up on an elbow, palm pressed to his temple as he looked down over at you.

As you rolled over, you were shadowed and sheltered in the safety of his gaze, those umber eyes locked on yours and he simply stared. Beheld you, like he thought you might run away. Part of you wanted to. And the other — the other part, beaten and battered by love, still held onto hope that there were good people in this world.

Good people like the man beside you, with love in his heart, full to the brim, a best friend to you now.

“Good morning,” you murmured back, gripping his chin in hand and wiggling it lightly, earning a soft smile out of the man.

——

tag list: @aurora-austen @lottie-90 @rustboxstarr @daisyridleyyyy yy @eggo-segual @corrodedseraphine @kjcmama @trixyvixx @lezzy-bennet @aysheashea @siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @ali-r3n @ilovetaquitosmmmm @vintagehellfire @hideoutside @pbs-theundeadmaggot @smells-like-teenwolf @squidscottjeans @royale1803 @marcysbear @josephquinnsfreckles @definitionwanderlust @plk-18 @mrsjellymunson

[noirangels77]

Here’s my Elmax Headcanon

•Robin is Max’s Wingman /Wingwoman.

She’ll give Max a dating advice.

•Jonathan is El’s wingman, He’ll give important dating advice.

•Hopper would secretly give Max some of his saving so that El and her can hangout. (He is very supportive of them)

•Max would take El to the arcade and teach her how to play them (El was confused but she ends up loving them)

•Max would give El her Walkman and introduced her to different kind of music (El love listening to the Smith)

•El discovers a love for 80s punk music through Max's extensive collection, and they often spend evenings jamming out to rebellious tunes in Eleven's room

•Max surprises Eleven with a homemade mixtape of her favorite love songs, each track carefully chosen to express the depth of her feelings.

•of course they both listen to music together

•They both would share mixtape to each other

•Max would bring El to the skatepark, El would also take picture of her skating with her Polaroid. 

•Max Introduce El her Childhood friends, Nate and her friends back in California.

•El love taking pictures since Jonathan teaches her.

•Max has been restoring Billy’s camaro for a year and decided to bring El to a road trip to California.

•Even El has a bad time in California, Max is here to clear those up and decided to give her a good time by bringing her to places like an Amusement Park.

•El enjoying the view at Santa Monica Piears, Max can’t help but fall in love.

•When El wins a carnival game, she would give the plushies to Max and give her a kiss.

•Max teaches Eleven how to cook their favorite dishes, creating a cozy routine of shared meals and stolen kisses in the kitchen.

•They both share cotton candy, popcorn and ice cream.

•El is the one to propose Max with her Ring Pop (Max Says Yes!!!)

•when El is having a nightmare, Max will cuddle with her and calm her down.

•Max Teaches El how to drive her Camaro.

•Max would play a guitar on stage and sing a song for El’s birthday

•Max and El would play Mario Kart on their couch (El loses /Doesn’t talk not forgive Max for beating her unless Max has to make her an eggo so she could forgive her)

•El is the one giving Max a head and shoulder massage when Max is feeling overwhelmed and stressed

•they both have a pet: Kira The Cat & Margo the Dog.

•Miss Mayfield/ Susan Mayfield would share a Childhood photo of Max to El when she was still a baby and a child, Max is completely embarrassed but El love seeing these childhood’s pic because Max is so damn cute.

•They carve their initials into a hidden tree in the forest, marking a secret place where their love story began and will continue to grow.

Sorry for the long list of head can on, I just ship these two more than the ships on the show.

[summerlovingbaby]

Traitor Rewrite Part 1

Y/N’s lost her phone in the middle of the night. Well she didn’t exactly lose it so much as she was pretty sue that Sero stole it, as retaliation because she ate the last Eggo Waffle even though it had his name on it. It was there when she went to bed, but gone when she woke up, which sucked for her because it made her late for class on the day that she had a test that made up 40% of her grade, and she planned on waking up early to study. Well she sat an alarm to wake up to study, but she wasn’t getting out of bed until the absolute last minute.

It’s not like she needed to study anyway, she could pass most test without thinking and managed to get decent grades with no more than a little thought. Deccent. That’s all she was and that was all she ever planned on being.

Deccent. 

Nothing more, nothing less, exactly what she was asked of a nothing more.

“ Sorry for being late, Sir. I couldn’t find my... phone.” she entered the classroom, and paused at the door.

Nobody was sitting at their desks, with there number two pencils, backs hunched over a paper. They were all crowded at the back of the classroom, with looks of grim determination. Bakugou looked particularly bothered, both hands clenched tightly into fist, bearing his teeth like a cornered animal.

“ What’s going on here?” Y/N asked stepping into the classroom, she soon wished she didn’t because as soon as she stepped through the door, she got a bad feeling, Panic shot through her body and she let it flash on her face for a minute and then forced it into a neutral expression.

Deku opened his mouth, made a gross looking face then quickly closed it before flies flew in it. His mouth quivered and he tried to speak one more time. “ I...” he tried, then his face turned stony as he wiped his face of all emotion and spoke again. “ I just don’t understand.”

“I’m late for one test and you guys act like I’m a crimminal!” she threw her hands up and forced out a fake laugh to clear the tenison. 

“ You’re still lying.” Deku spoke, then he turned and looked behind, unable to look at her and her fat, lying face anymore. The face of an old friend. “ Why is she still lying?”

“ BECAUSE SHE’S A VILLIAN, AND THAT’S WHAT VILLAINS DO.” Bakugou. “THEY LIE, YOU LIE!”

“ Exuse me?” Y/N said. “ The hell are you talking about?”

“ Language!” Iida chided.

“ What am I lying about exactly?” she asked, stepping backwards towards the door, she had a bad feeling. A real bad one, that shot something in her stomach that made her want to be sick.

She couldn’t show it, she kept her face calm and neutral. Don’t over react, she thought to herself. There’s no reason to be afraid. 

She had every reason to be afraid she could feel it. A door opened a couple feet down the hallway and she could feel the heavy army boots stopping down the hallway in uniform. If she tried hard enough she could pretend the footfalls were the sound of her own heartbeat, which was beating insessiantly in her chest and made her want to carve it out with her own hands. She was losing her edge.

“ What the hell is going on?”

“ LANGUAGE!” Iida shouted.

“ Iida, I don’t feel like that’s exactly relevant right now-” Sero whispered. 

“ Can someone just explain to me what’s going on?” she asked, her voice still sweet and gentle despite the stress shooting through her thoughts.

“ We know you’re the traitor.” Aizawa spoke.

Her eyes drifted to him, she hadn;t even noticed how he was wearing his goggled shielding his eyes, or the missing sleeping bag that was traded in for a sullen expression.

Y/N stared at him, she didn’t know what to say, hadn’t even registered the word. That’s why she laughed, she always laughed at the least appropriate times because she didn’t no what else to do, but slap a smile on her face.

“ What?”

“ You don’t need to lie. We know it’s you!”

“ I have no idea what you’re talking about. What traitor?” she threw her hands in the air,  to show she was no threat. She thought she wasn’t one.

Everyone else was looking at her like she was the biggest threat in the room. Aizawa knew she could be a threat if she wanted to. Maybe not the biggest one, but one none the less. He knew that she hadn’t shown him the full capacity of her quirk, afraid of what it would do, but now, cornered like a violent animal confronted with the truth, she would lash out. The question was, would he be strong enough to stop the fallout.

“ Stop playing dumb, we’ve had enough of your schemes!”

“ What?”

“ Stop-”

“ CAN SOMEONE JUST EXPLAIN-”

“ We’ve given you more of an explanation than you deserve. And we’ve given you more than a dozen chances to explain.” Aizawa snapped. “ I would have thought you would have known better than to lie, and I thought that you would at least give us the dignity of being honest.”

“ I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT-”

“ Last chance, to surrender quietly.”

She threw her hands in the air and stuttered.

“ Can we just talk, like friends?” she asked.

“ We’re not friends, not anymore!” Bakugou snapped. “ Friends don’t stab eachother in the back.”

“ I didn’t stab anyone-”

“ Don’t say we didn’t give you the chance, to do the right thing.” Aizawa said.

Aizawa stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistles, ad just on cue men began to appear. Y/N turned to run, but the door slammed in her face, with such force that it knocked her down. Men in uniform, with stun guns draped on their chest, emerged from the ceiling, knocking down the ceiling titles.

She got to her feet though she felt like all the air was knocked from her lungs. She could still breathe but it felt like her lungs collapsed in on herself. 

One time, when she was a kid, she was on the swings, she tried to fly. So she forced herself to swing back and forth, until she swung super high, then just when she decided she was high enough, she realized she was afraid. She wasn’t meant to fly she was meant to walk, but two hands pressed against the middle of her back, and launched her foreward, sending her face first to the ground.

That’s what she felt like, Like someone pushed her off the swingset that she had no business being on in the first place. It felt like time froze, and before she knew it men surrounded her.

She scrambled upwards and hid behind his desk, pressing her back flat against the chalkboard in the front of the room. Hands emerged, grabbing at her face and clawing at her skin, she tried to scream but a hand covered her mouth and pinched her nose so she couldn’t breathe. She gripped the hand holding her hostage and snapped the wrist back.

It was Pro Hero Wall. Homeroom teacher of class 2B. She elbowed the wall and the hands let go of her. She had no time to think, no time to form a plan. Someone flew in through the window, she didn’t even realize that it was open. Two more guys dropped in, and landed harshly. They were wearing battle gear and had guns too.

Two men were approaching from the front, and she grabbed the edge of the desk and pushed it foreward, ramming it into them and knocking them down. It sent all the supplies falling of the desk and clattering on the ground. Someone came at her from the left, swung a large fist at her nose, and hit her in the face. The smell of blood invaded her senses and made her eyes water. A fist swung at her again,she ducked beneth it and kicked him down. A harsh hand slammed down on her shoulder and she grabbed his wrist, spinned around, pinning it behind his back and slammed him against the wall.

“ Can someone just talk to me.” she pleaded." Please just talk-”

Someone snuck up behind her, so quietly she couldn’t hear, grabbed her by her shoulder and slammed her head on the desk leaving a nasty bruise. They pinned her arm behind her back so violently her arm dislocated. She cried out loudly.

Kirishima tried to go help her but Denki, who was making sure that he didn’t interfere, grabbed him to keep him still. She tried to activate her quirk, but it couldn’t rise in her, she lifted her head to Aizawa who had taken off his goggles and left them on a desk, he wanted to look at her, watch her struggle.

“ Please.” she moaned. He only saw her mouth move, but he knew exactly what she said.

They jammed a siringe in her neck and managed to get her in cuffs, and as just as fact as they appeared they were dragging her from the room kicking and shouting for someone to listen. She just wanted her friends to listen.

She shouted for her innocence as they drug her to the door. Her body felt heavy and the edges of her vision went blurry. She looked at her classmates, the ones that stood and watched her get condemed, and the teacher that condemed her.

“ PLEASE… I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING. PLEASE I JUST WANT TO TALK. STOP IT. NO , PLEASE.”

As soon as she was out of the room, they gave her another shot of sedation keeping her from activating her quirk and making her easy to deal with. Her pleas echoed down the hallway and flowed into the room. There was a loud thudding noise, and then silence.

The quiet fell on the room, as the men gathered themselves and followed after her. Kirishima fell to the ground with wide sullen eyes and hollow cheeks. His world just ended. He put a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle his sobs, that were raking his chest through his body.

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