#i would totally be someone's virgin sacrifice for a costume party

[allyricas]

fun couple's idea for a halloween costume

sexy demon (shirtless with harness wings/horns/sexy mask) and his 'virgin' sacrifice (sexy white nightie mildly inspired victorian nightgowns/sheer thigh highs with a garter/sexy heels) rope around the wrists included.

it'd be so hot, no one would expect it and yes, i am absolutely imagining steve as the demon and eddie as the virgin sacrifice. it would totally fuck with everyone's perception of them both and it'd be fun for them to play.

imagine steve with eddie thrown over his shoulder, walking around a costume party and eddie's all 'oh please don't sacrifice me in a evil, sexy ritual, please..no...oh god.'

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 3

“Come and Get Sheetfaced.” Clever wordplay, if you were in fourth grade. The crude illustration of what was supposed to be a tipsy ghost did little more to advertise the marketing genius of head cheerleader and reigning bitch queen Tina.

She’d shoved the neon orange monstrosity into my hand with all the finesse of a football player, cornering both me and Steve on our way out of third period Chem.

“Hope you’ll both come.” She chirped, though I wondered how much of her enthusiasm had been aimed at me, and how much was for my much more agreeable compatriot.

I never liked Tina. Not since she stuck gum in my hair in sixth grade, forcing my dad to get the scissors to my hair when peanut butter failed. It was okay though; I rocked a Mohawk. She’d always been a bitch, but that was fine; she thought I was one too. At least we understood each other.

So; for the sake of appearances, and the almighty sacrifice of actually getting along with some of the populars, I took the damn flyer, determined to dispose of it at a more convenient time.

“So Tina’s throwing another Halloween bash. That should be cool.” Commented Steve, rushing up to walk beside me with his flyer in hand.

I just gave him a look, because Steve already knew what I thought about Tina and how little her boozefests appealed to me.

“Come on, Lo. It could be fun to let loose a little...” He continued to try and convince me with one of those easy smiles that worked so well on Nancy. On me; not so much.

“Drink a little, dance a little. Get crazy!” He grinned, wide eyed with his hands in the air, as if he could embarrass me into relenting.

“Speak for yourself. I’ve had enough crazy in this past year to last a lifetime.” I half joked, but it came off flat. We’d both seen what Hawkins was truly capable of. The kind of horror movie tropes that didn’t even belong on the midnight feature.

Steve’s smile had fallen a little; his happy-go-lucky attitude more forced as of late. It had me wondering how deep that night had really cut him; how many nightmares had him staying awake in the middle of the night.

I’d seen my fair share of shit; been pretty much born into the middle of it. It took a hell of a lot to faze me, and some weird Venus flytrap looking monster wasn’t going to be the thing to send me overboard.

Steve was different.

He was born into the life of perfect privilege; his dad a highflying lawyer in some fancy business firm, his mom a bonafide 50s catalogue housewife. He was a picket fence away from Nancy Wheeler level of holiday special suburban dream, but I suppose being filthy rich stretched some of the parameters substantially.

Sure; he had his problems. The fact that his dad was having an affair on his mom was Hawkins worst kept secret, but his mom was no idiot, and kept Mr Harrington on a tighter leash than a Rottweiler in heat. That meant Steve had his first taste of independent living, with a bachelors pad that could rival Hugh Hefner.

What Steve could see in a girl like me was a mystery. I guess I was pretty; in a drug addict kind of way, and my jokes weren’t too bad once you got past the fact that my humour was drier than the panties of an eighty year old virgin.

Still; Steve could do so much better. He had Nancy, and Tommy, and Carol and a whole list of populars who were just lining up for a minute of his time.

King Steve; they said, though I guess every court needed an outcast. A black sheep to do the dirty work and keep the king’s confidence when his crown got a little off kilter.

“Please don’t make me go to this alone.” He asked; and the honesty in his voice was almost enough to break me entirely. It was easy to forget that being royalty could be draining at times; even for someone as naturally charismatic as Steve.

“You won’t be alone. You’ve got Nancy.” I remarked, honing in on the one indisputable point in my argument for playing hooky just this once.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same...” Steve argued, though his tone was still light; eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if he saw something interesting up there.

“She doesn’t scare people off half as well.” He joked and I couldn’t help but chuckle, because Steve had the vanity to glance at me to see if he’d won on such cheap shot.

“Steve Harrington; are you asking me to be your bodyguard?” I asked; a smile still stretched across my face because I could play his game too, and fuck; if I wasn’t gonna beat him at it.

“Bodyguard’s a strong word. More like assassin. You can stop me from saying something stupid before Nance kills me for it.” He retorted, and despite our conversation resting firmly in joking territory; I couldn’t help but hear some truth in there.

“Think the word you’re looking for is babysitter.” I corrected him, because I wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to turn serious again just yet.

“Well; you always did say I was immature for my age.” Steve concurred, because only he could make self deprecation seem like a winning strategy.

“So will you come?” He asked; all jokes aside, because I could only dance around the question for so long.

“Steve; I’m sure you’ll be fine without me.” I replied, my voice soft and sincere.

As much as I liked to joke otherwise; he really didn’t need me to hold his hand through everything. He was more capable than me; at least when it came to social settings. I just lurked in the background with a drink in my hand, looking every inch the outsider in my muted shades of black leather.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.” He countered, and it brought a smile to my face.

After all this time things hadn’t changed. He was still Happy-go-lucky Harrington; dumb perky rich boy with too much hair and not enough sense, and I was still Hellfire Hopper; bitter as a sour ball and twice as hard to stomach. Times changed but people didn’t; not when it came to the things that mattered.

“I’ll think about it.” I offered sincerely as I opened my locker, because that’s the best he was gonna get out of me without blackmail; and we both knew I had far more on him than he had on me.

Steve just nodded, accepting the compromise as a starting point before hurrying off to basketball practice.

He was sweet like that; quick to trust, and quicker to make a fool of. We’d really have to fix that some day, by for now I was thankful.

I screwed up Tina’s party invitation into a satisfying ball that rather festively resembled a pumpkin, before tossing it into the depths of my locker, soon to be forgotten in a mess of colourful cafeteria receipts.

Steve could grill me about it later, and as it was; his grilling was more like a light toasting; thank god for small mercies. His forgiveness was easier to get, and you know what they say; better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

—————————————————

I tried to stand my ground; I really did, but when Steve dug his heels in about something, it would take more than hell or high water to move him. For a teenage boy; he really did nag more than a neglected housewife, and I was finally understanding why my dad never remarried.

I’d almost made a clean getaway, right up until the last bell before final period when I’d opened my locker and that perfect shaped ball of orangeness decided to fall at the feet of one Steve Harrington. He’d unscrunched it, despite my insistence that it was a used cafeteria napkin and probably had something gross like chewed gum in it. Then his face fell, and it hit me like a punch in the gut.

Steve didn’t pick many hills to die upon; always was more of a lay down and roll over kind of guy, but when he picked them; he’d hold them valiantly. Honesty was one of those noble qualities that Steve valued so highly, and was one of the things I could definitely live without.

In the Hopper household; dishonesty was a proud trait held up with the likes of pettiness and just pure grit. If it didn’t kill anyone; it could go without saying, and if it did; well, we’d dealt with that before too.

With Steve, my dishonesty had always been a point of strain, testing our friendship in a way that was usually reserved for married couples.

I lied to him. He knew that. Whether it was to save his feelings, or just to save face; I’d lie more than a politician on Inauguration Day, and with far more credibility. Usually Steve never took it to heart; understood it came with being friends with a compulsive omitter who avoided social responsibility at all costs, but this time was different.

After having chewed my ear off for the better part of study period; he’d relented, but only after the promise that I’d go to Tina’s stupid party, if only to drink her parents booze and maybe tp that obnoxious rose bush in her front yard, but of course I never told Steve that.

So with a very crinkled flyer in tow, I offloaded my books into my locker, very much not looking forward to going to Melvald’s to pull together a costume that said “I’m here under duress.”

“Hey Lola...” Called the unnervingly upbeat voice of Nancy Wheeler, because only she could make Halloween a day of sunshine and rainbows.

I turned to her, noting Jonathan standing beside her with yet another one of Tina’s orange monstrosities in hand. Was everyone going to this party?

“See; even Lola’s going...” She said to Jonathan and I was suddenly aware I’d walked into a conversation I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of.

“What?” I asked, thinking that if this conversation was about what I think it was, Nancy was being awfully presumptuous.

That, or Steve had a far bigger mouth than I gave him credit for. Scratch that; Steve did have a big mouth.

“I was just telling Jonathan that he should totally come with us to Tina’s party.” She informed with such conviction; I half believed that Steve had somehow managed to talk me into some pseudo double date neither parties had an interest in going on.

“Actually, I was thinking of skipping this year instead and staying in with my dad.” I peddled in with the lamest excuse in the book, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

I was planning on staying in; with Eleven, not my dad, but the night’s itinerary would be roughly the same; too much candy and bad horror movies.

“What?!” Nancy exclaimed, and for a minute she reminded me of Steve.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” She lamented, as if the idea of anyone shunning the moral wasteland of a popularity contest that was Tina’s Halloween party was foreign to her.

Jonathan got it; his smile was testament to that.

Ever the social outcast; sometimes I felt like he was the only other person who had no desire to be involved with the social niceties that came with being part of the in crowd.

“Sorry Nance. Looks like some people aren’t interested in getting sheet faced” He joked; and I laughed because I was glad I wasn’t the only one who thought that pun was total trash.

Nancy soon realised her approach wasn’t working; the social outrage over the rejection of the party of the year hardly a relevant motivator to those who’d already accepted their place at the outskirts of society.

Instead she took a new angle; putting those optional classes on investigative journalism to good use.

“Okay. You’re gonna go trick or treating and you’re gonna be home by eight...” She began, realising Jonathan was the easier target and taking advantage of that as we strolled towards the school exit.

“Listening to... The Talking Heads... and reading Vonnegut, or something...” She plucked the words out of thin air, summarising Jonathan’s existence beautifully in a a harsh combination of vain existentialism and edgy romanticism, because maybe he was a cliche; but so was me, Steve and Nancy if we were being honest.

Jonathan just shrugged, unfazed at her attempt to highlight his predictability.

“Sounds like a nice night...” He commented, and I laughed, because I could see what he was doing there; and it had nothing to do with his love of American New Wave.

“Sure does; could you use a plus one?” I teased, aiding him in his attempt to drive Miss Nancy Wheeler wild with incredulousness.

“Come on guys! Don’t be a bore!” She griped, because she knew reasoning was getting nowhere, and immaturity may be more Steve’s thing; but my god; if it wasn’t effective!

“Okay, Okay!” I relented, only because I’d agreed this much with Steve, but Nancy didn’t need to know that.

However, she did need to know the very strict conditions of my attendance which I wouldn’t budge over.

“But if the new guy so much as looks at me; I swear to god I’ll...” I began, but couldn’t quite finish before I was swept up in someone’s arms.

Normally being hoisted two feet up in the air would be a cause for alarm, and the shriek I let out was far too feminine for me to pass it off as anything else.

Of course; when the raucous laughter of no other than Steve Harrington was muffled into the back of my jacket, the shock quickly wore off.

“Jesus Christ, Steve! Don’t do that!” I lectured as soon as my boots touched the floor; reaching out to slap him on the shoulder, just in case he got any other ideas for unwelcome surprises.

“Why? You loved it when we were kids...” He countered, releasing his grip around my waist so he could look at me with that dumb too-happy smile.

“Yeah; when I was twelve and you were at least a foot shorter...” I snapped back, because of course; Steve would still act like we were in middle school; immature little shit that he was!

Still; my chastisements always fell short when it came to Steve; his smile just a little too bright to be dimmed by something as dull as maturity and personal space.

Instead; he just beamed down at me, still resembling that lanky kid who’d give me piggybacks all those years ago. Same old Steve.

“And how is the most beautiful girl in the world?” He asked; his attention finally turning to his actual girlfriend, who was waiting far more politely for him than I’d have in her shoes.

“Who? Me?” She asked incredulously; a teasing lilt in her tone, only emphasised by the exaggerated hand on the chest routine. “I thought you were talking about Lola.”

Despite her slight dig, there was no love lost between the pair; teasing giving way to pure gooey eyes that would’ve made me barf from anyone else.

Steve And Nance were lucky I liked them enough for it to be endearing.  Then they started kissing and all bets were off.

“And that’s our cue to leave...” I commented, grabbing Jonathan by the arm and towing him away before tongues came into play.