#so I’ll think about Keith instead

[vldsideblog]

Thinking about Keith’s blatant martyr complex again. 45 dead, 789 injured

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re nervous.”

“Hnnngh,” Keith says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead, left leg bouncing, hair pulled back into a ponytail but flyaways everywhere. He keeps having to push up his glasses when they slide down his nose, nudged forward by all the tension in his eyebrows. “Being stressed before a stressful situation is not being nervous, Lance, it’s just my brain responding like a brain.”

Lance hides a smile. “You’ve met my family before, baby.”

Keith slows to a stop as they approach their turn, looking at Lance instead of the road for the first time in twenty minutes. His indigo eyes are wide and pleading. Lance is distracted by the tiny mole beside his nose.

“I’ve met your mom,” he says emphatically, breaking eye contact with Lance to crane his head to the left, checking over the hill for any cars. He’s far more careful than he needs to be — there’s never anyone on this road. But Keith is always endlessly careful when he’s driving other people around. “I’ve met your siblings. I’ve met your abuela. I’ve met the twins.”

“Mighty number of people,” Lance agrees. He looks at his boyfriend pointedly. “All of whom love you.”

“Because they love you,” Keith stresses. “You’re, like, their favourite person. You hyped me up so of course they have a nicer view of me. But this is like — your great grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and, I dunno, second sister in law five times removed —

“Not how that works,” Lance interjects, amused.

“—and now I gotta impress them all? At once? I still don’t know how I did that with everyone else! I panicked! I forgot all my lines and conversation starters! I just — was awkward, and they were cool with it because your family is cool!”

“Ah, yes, you were yourself and people liked you,” Lance says, nodding sagely. “How bizarre.”

Keith looks at him imploringly. He has a — really cute nose, holy shit. It’s crooked from the three separate times it’s been broken and Lance is kind of obsessed with it. All he can think about is pressing a kiss to the bridge of it and watching how Keith will crinkle it on reflex. He has to fight back a giggle.

“I am going to get eaten,” Keith says miserably. “My luck is going to wear out. I’m gonna say something stupid and offend your third cousin or trip over someone’s toddler and destroy your mother’s flan by crashing into the table and upending hot coffee on an elderly person. Then I’ll get arrested for assault and you’ll have to visit me in prison and my cellmate will make a comment about you or something and I’ll have to kill him and then I’ll get retried and the death sentence, probably, and then Red will bust me out of prison and cause intergalactic meltdowns and —”

Lance can’t hold back anymore. Quick as a dart he reaches out, fisting Keith’s collar, and yanks him over the gearshift, kissing him softly and soundly until Keith sighs, surprise fading into something calmer, relaxed. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s cheek.

“You need a Xanax,” Lance says gently as he pulls away.

Keith huffs, the manic look in his eyes replaced with something much softer. Relieved, even. “Yeah, probably.” He tears his eyes away from Lance, rechecking his turn and finally actually putting on his blinker and moving onto the right road. His free hand reaches over the gearshift and Lance grabs it, tangling their fingers together and resting them in his lap. “I just — I want your family to like me.”

Lance smiles, a wide one that brings a flush to his cheeks and makes him shy, even though he’s not self-conscious; a smile that makes something flutter so intensely in his stomach that it feels so intensely private.

“They’ll like you,” Lance says simply.

Keith exhales. His hand tightens. Lance squeezes back.

The rest of the drive is easy.

———

By the time they make it to Lance’s great-grandmother’s farm, he can tell that some tension has crawled back into Keith’s shoulders. But he’s always been brave, when fighting dictators or meeting parents, and doesn’t hesitate to pull into the gravel driveway and park the car. He squeezes Lance’s hand again before letting go, stepping out of the car and heading to get their stuff.

“Tío! Tío!” scream two voices, and Lance doesn’t even have half a second to brace himself before Nadia is launching herself at his stomach. He manages somehow to spin them both around to offset the momentum, keeping them both upright. Keith is not quite so lucky — Lance hears a slam, a startled oof, and then he sees their bags go flying out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith wheezes, flat on the ground with Sylvio crowded on top of him.

“I got you!” the boy crows, scrambling off Keith’s body in order to adequately dance around in victory. “You went splat!” He whirls around to face Lance, still dancing around. “Tío Lance! Did you see?”

Lance adjusts Nadia on his hip, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I did. You got him good, buddy.”

Beaming, Sylvio turns back to Keith, who’s finally managed to get enough breath back in his lungs to stand.

“You got me good,” he wheezes in approval.

“Just like you showed me!”

There’s no mistaking the smugness in Sylvio’s voice, the challenge, the I’m-little-you’re-big-and-you’re-a-loser.

Keith recognises the challenge easily, eyes glinting, and before Sylvio can run away Keith scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder and whirling them around ‘til he’s dizzy.

“Just like I showed you, champ. Think you can get out of this one, though? It’s easy!”

Sylvio shrieks, pounding on Keith’s back with fists weak from laughter. Nadia squirms in Lance’s hold, so Lance sets her down, and in seconds she’s run and attacked Keith’s other side, climbing up his legs to try and free her brother. Keith scoops her up, too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs just as shrilly.

“Clearly neither of you learned very much!” he shouts, grin so wide it practically splits his face. His already precariously dangling glasses slide right off his face but Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance, stepping over them easily and shaking the twins as he goes. “You’re trapped!”

It doesn’t take the bright twins very long to unite forces, attacking Keith with renewed vigour all at once. Lance bends down as they wrestle, scooping up Keith’s glasses and their discarded bags.

“He’s good with them,” Lisa says, sidling up beside him and sliding her hand around his waist. Lance mirrors her, squeezing.

“He thinks they’re hilarious. He loves them to pieces.”

“Believe me, they love him too. I heard about Uncle Keith so much on the drive down that I was tired of him before you two even got here.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, dweeb. No one else here reads Jane Austen. You need your nerd buddy.”

“Indeed,” she says, grinning. She pats him on the hip, pulling away and taking one of the bags slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff dropped off. Marcela will want to fuss over you, I’m sure. She hasn’t seen you since your last mission.”

Lance looks back at his boyfriend before following her, making sure he doesn’t need Lance’s help. The twins have wrestled him into doing their bidding, it looks like, or more likely he didn’t even put up a fight, and sit on one shoulder each, guiding him around the property with shouts and points and frenzied gesturing. Keith has his hand locked firmly over each set of knees, careful not to let them fall, as he wobbles around to make them gasp and laugh.

Lance smiles. He’s fine.

———

Keith finds him within the hour, Nadia and Sylvio off to play with their cousins.

“You abandoned me,” he pouts, hand wrapped around his elbow.

Lance notices, idly, that he’s slouching again; that his ponytail has been abandoned entirely and his hair curtains his face.

Hm.

“You were busy being a doofus,” Lance teases, brushing his hair out of his face. He nobly resists the urge to quote Regina George. “One of us has to be the mature one. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about the saviours of the universe.

“You’re hiding out on a random couch on your phone,” Keith deadpans. He glances down at the screen. “You’re watching a seven year old vine compilation. On mute.”

“Like an adult,” Lance says primly. “Watch with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but slides on the couch behind Lance, arms wrapped around his waist and chin hooked over his shoulder. Lance digs in his pockets until he finds Keith’s glasses, twisting around to slide them on his handsome face. His hands linger on Keith’s temples. Keith’s smile is small and crooked and bares the tiniest peek of crooked incisors, and Lance’s heart flutters.

He leans back into Keith’s chest as he plays the video, watching a compilation of dorky videos he’s seen a thousand times. He feels Keith’s grin press into the juncture of his neck as he starts to mumble along. His hand rests just under Lance’s shirt, flat on his stomach. Lance fights the urge to squirm.

You Are In Your Abuela’s House, he reminds himself firmly. Your Ancestors Are Watching You. And Jesus, Probably.

Luckily, someone calls out their names before Lance really needs to find a vat of ice water to dunk himself in.

“Leandro! Keith! Come eat before your hog of a brother takes it all!”

The two of them don’t even need to pause for a moment before throwing themselves off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen at top speeds because Marco absolutely will eat their portion of the food. Not even because he’s hungry for it, just because he’s a butthead who thinks it’s funny.

“This is your fault,” Keith informs him, careening around a questionably placed side table.

“Nothing is ever my fault ever in the entire universe,” Lance shoots back.

(Is it Lance’s fault? Possibly. But in his defense, the several years he spent as a child waiting for Marco to be distracted before eating his favourite thing on the plate still make him crack up when he thinks about it. Marco just got so mad, every time. Plus his eyes bulge a little when he loses it. How was Lance ever supposed to avoid poking that bear?)

Luckily, they make it in time to wrestle a plate away from Marco’s snickering ass.

“Keith, Lance,” Lance’s mother greets warmly before Lance can crack a plate over his brother’s head. “I’m glad you made it!”

“Mother,” Lance squawks dramatically, hand flying to his chest, “I am the second to be greeted? You’re son? You’re youngest angel? The one who went missing for several years and returned to you, prodigal?”

She reaches over and flicks Lance in the forehead. Keith snorts. Marco cackles.

“Keith called me on the flight home,” she explains, ruthless. “So he is the son, and you are the son-in-law.”

Keith flushes as he always does when Mamá pairs them like that, when they’re both her sons, when she implies what it implies. Lance lets the warmth of that expression soak into his bones, deep in through his back, from every point Keith is touching him.

“I was sleeping off being maimed!” Lance despairs.

It does him no favours. Mamá waves her hands wildly, setting down her own plate in favour of placing her hands over her ears. “Gah! Sh! Do not tell me of these things! I am meant to pretend your job is nothing more than ornamental! Do not ruin that for me!”

“It was the slightest ever maiming,” Lance mutters, sullen.

Keith visibly bites back a retort to that, no doubt out of respect for Mamá.

(Lance knows that Keith would have been the world’s biggest mama’s boy had he grown up with Krolia. He has shared this hypothesis with Shiro, who had laughed so hard upon hearing it that he had sprained a muscle in his neck, and then explained later with a heat pack and a wryly smiling Adam that Keith used to scold Shiro for pushing himself with exact quotes from Shiro’s mother herself.)

“Nobody ever wants to hear my side of the story,” Lance laments.

Keith bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s because you are a liar,” he says kindly.

Lance catches his chin before he can pull away, kissing him to shut him up.

They head outside to join everyone else, plates stacked high with food and plastic cups balanced precariously with spare fingers. Keith starts to slouch again as they walk out the sliding screen door, but he keeps his hair out of his face, eyes flitting between different people. It helps that hardly anyone spares him half a glance, too used to random new people in such a big family.

“Hey, Patito! Over here!”

Lance whips his head up at the familiar voice, breaking into a wide smile when he sees his sister’s wilding waving hand. Keith, too, seems relieved when he catches sight of Veronica, rushing over almost faster than Lance is.

“Hey, losers,” she greets, flicking water from her cup at them as they sit across from her. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Lance is a distraction and danger to the road,” Keith says immediately, because he is a snitch. He is also unfortunately very quick and manages to duck away from Lance’s pinch.

Veronica snorts. “Believe me, I know. Every ride back to the Garrison on weekends was a near death experience because he kept smacking me every ten seconds. A menace.”

“You manipulator!” Lance accuses. “I slapped you because you teased me! Constantly!”

Keith and Veronica share sharp, matching grins. Lance takes a nanosecond to ponder what he ever did to deserve the sufferings of their friendship.

“That’s because you’re so goddamn easy to rile up, sweetheart,” Keith says with a wink.

Lance attempts to shove him off his chair. Unfortunately, while he does flail backwards, he manages to stay upright.

“You two were supposed to hate each other,” he mutters into his congrí. “This friendship thing is bullshit.”

Neither believe him for a second.

They’re barely into their meal when the nosiness starts. In fact, Lance is honestly surprised it has lasted this long. Luis probably said something to convince everyone to tone it down, because he is a saint and also Lance’s favourite.

“So,” says his Aunt Vena, “…Keith.”

Keith freezes, cheeks bulging. Lance tries very hard not to laugh at him.

“Hi,” he says, swallowing. He says nothing else and looks agonized about it. His memorized conversation starters have no doubt fled his brain.

“You know, I feel like I already know you,” jokes Aunt Vena, never bothered by awkwardness. Or boundaries. “I only see Leandro a few times a year were the only thing he talked about for ages.”

Lance goes pale. Oh, please God, no. Please let Aunt Vena be suddenly gifted with the ability to read Lance’s mind, or at least notice him waving his hands frantically behind Keith’s head, making cutting motions at his throat.

“Keith this, Keith that. Keith Keith Keith.”

Lance cradles his face in his hands. So much for miracles.

“He did?” Keith asks.

“Stop investigating immediately or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Lance threatens under his breath. Keith’s hand finds it’s way to his thigh and rests there, as if laughing at him.

“Oh, yes,” laughs Aunt Vena. “Every other word was about how you sat in class or walked in the hall or flew your planes. He was always angry about it, but he was quite focused on you. Oh, and your hair.”

Aunt Vena turns away to chatter with someone else like she didn’t just ruin Lance’s life. Lance would hate her if he didn’t find her so goddamn loveable, but he does, so instead he looks up and suffers Keith’s wide, shit-eating grin, and ponders deep in his heart how he will re-humble his boyfriend so they’re back on even ground.

“…You were big on the hair, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll chop it off as you sleep.”

———

“Keith.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You dorkbrain.”

“I’m just saying!”

Keith’s hair is in a knot at the crown of his head, glasses pushed all the way to his face. He’s got Lance’s hand in his but he’s not paying attention to him in the slightest — he cycles between leaning back, then forwards, then craning his neck and shifting his eyes. Every few seconds he lets out a muted gasp.

A group of children run yelling in and out of the house, heedless of doors and stairs.

“You are such a mother hen,” Lance says with great amusement.

Keith is too distracted to even roll his eyes. “Some of them are very little,” he says worriedly. “Maybe they should play a game outside. There’s more space.” He looks around at the various adults sitting and chatting, aghast. “Should me maybe get a — pool noodle, or something? Just for the corners. So there are no head injuries. That’s the most common way they happen, you know. Tripping during play.”

Lance hums, leaning into his side. “Reading a lot of parenting books, are you.”

Keith is very deliberately silent. Lance flicks up his gaze to watch his face redden.

“…Akira.”

“It’s Shiro’s!” he says defensively. “It was — he had it on the shelf! I read it when I was younger! It was traumatizing! Do you know how easy it is to fuck up a kid? Very easy, Lance! Their heads are very squishy! They don’t know balance yet! They repeat everything you say!”

“Was this book,” Lance starts, choking back laughter with everything he has, “perhaps about raising toddlers?”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut.

“Children under two? Hm?”

Keith glances away. “It didn’t mention.”

Lance loses his battle, burying his cackling in Keith’s shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know that ‘A Guide To Raising Healthy Children For New Parents’ was about — babies? Shiro was the dumbass who had it!”

Lance laughs harder. “Did he — did he buy it when he —”

Keith puts his head in his hands. “He bought, like, forty books when he first started fostering me, they were all basically the same, he’s such a dumbass —”

“Stop, stop,” Lance begs, grasping his aching stomach. The image of Shiro, twenty years old, panicking after impulsively deciding to apply to foster the delinquent who stole his car, frantically googling advice for new parents only to unknowingly receive information about toddlers is the best mental image he’s had in a while. He’ll have to share with Pidge and the rest of the Holts the second they get home.

“You’re such a butthead,” Keith grumbles, but it’s half-hearted. His attention is still mostly on the way Mateo, Lance’s four year old second cousin, very nearly brains himself on the corner of the brick entryway trying to swerve away from his older sister. Keith’s sharp inhale would have been comical if Lance didn’t feel his own heart drop.

“Okay,” Lance concedes, “maybe it’s time for a new game.” He pats his boyfriend on the knee. “You’re up, champ.”

“Wait, me?” Keith asks, bewildered. “You’re their cousin.”

Lance shrugs. “You’re the worried one. Plus, I want to go get wine drunk with Rachel. Mamá said she just got here. She’s been avoiding my calls all week which means she has Information to share and doesn’t trust herself not to tell me immediately. I have to know what’s up.”

Keith still doesn’t look convinced. “But I’m a stranger to them, basically.”

“So start with Nadia and Sylvio, dummy. Once the rest of the kids see a cool newer and accidentally safer game to play, they’ll join fast. Plus, the stranger aspect is intriguing, probably. You’re like a new toy.”

To solidify his point, Lance calls his niblings over, gesturing to Keith. The twins light up, immediately abandoning whatever they’re doing — trying to shove a sleeping Luis’ finger up his own nose — to sprint over to them.

“Tío Keith has a game for you two,” Lance whispers conspirationally.

The twins burst into howling cheers.

“Game! Game! Game! Game!” they chant, each grabbing one of Keith’s hands and tugging him away.

Keith looks back at him, panicked. Lance blows him a kiss, then turns back into the house to go hunt for his sister.

She finds him first.

“LANCE,” she shouts, whipping around to face him. Lance immediately shifts backwards slightly, knees bent, legs widened, arms held out protectively in front of him. He smirks. She matches it.

She charges.

She aerials into a heel kick, as always, aiming for his skull. Lance back handsprings out of her reach, careful of the various relatives around him, who are well used to their brand of bullshit and don’t even pause their conversations as they lean away.

He comes back up just in time to throw up a block to her fists, aiming a kick to her stomach that she can’t fully dodge. She gets him right back, though, like she always does, aiming a sweeping kick for his ankles that he has to flip on his hands to avoid.

“It’s good to see you, fucker,” she pants, roundhouse kicking the dip of his waist.

“Likewise, asshole,” he grunts, grabbing her ankle and flipping her to the ground. She drags him down with her.

They’re both grinning.

“Tomorrow morning we box for real,” she proposes as they lay there, getting their breath back.

“Deal,” he agrees.

By the time they finally get back on their feet, they’re both parched, and since they also make frequent poor decisions, they head straight for the bad boxed wine. Lance pours them both heaping glasses and Rachel guides them to an open lawn chair, which they both sprawl on, a hundred percent in each other’s space.

“So,” Rachel says, chugging half her glass, “my grades are in. I’m graduating top of my class.”

Lance gasps. “Rachel!”

“And,” she continues, building up suspense with a grin, “I got word back from all my residency applications.”

Lance thinks he might explode. He remembers them when they were little, huddled on the floor of their bedroom at one in the morning, glow sticks guiding their planners, mapping out heir lives together. Where they would go to school, when they would bother with dating, how they would do it all together. Lance, best pilot to come out of the Garrison next to Shirogane. Rachel, the first surgeon to successfully transplant a brain.

“I got in,” she says, beam so wide it forces her eyes shut. “Lance, I got in!”

“Rach!” he screams, eyes blurry from tears and heart full to bursting. “Rach!”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and squeezes, weeping with joy and elation and buzzing from his head to his toes. This is what Rachel has wanted since she was old enough to talk. This is his sister, his first and best friend, getting everything she has ever wanted, as she has always deserved.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!”

She squeezes him right back, her own tears wetting his t-shirt. Her relief is palpable, and Lance knows it, the indescribable feeling of finally crossing that goddamn mountain, finally getting what you’ve been working for for longer than you can remember.

“Everything is falling into place,” she says softly, pulling back and holding up her cup. Lance laughs and clinks them together.

They settle back into their shared chair, too happy for words, gathering themselves. Lance catches his mother’s eye and returns her soft smile, wine making him warm and happiness making him bright. He feels like he’s swimming in sun-warmed water.

He settles back with a sigh.

Rachel nudges him. “Hey, Loverboy. Look.”

Lance follows her pointing finger. Away from the tables and lawn chairs, in a wide, open space, there’s Keith — surrounded by every single child on the property, ordered in neat rows. Each of them has a hefty stick, held carefully in their hands, watching Keith with great intensity. Keith himself has his bayard out, stretched out in a battle position, back straight and shoulders loose. He has the same bright look on his face that he has during Lion training, or riskier missions. Excitement, steadiness, and a hint of cockiness that has Lance shivering. He demonstrates a move, and with a single minded focus, the children repeat it.

It has always been impossible not to want to be a part of everything Keith does, Lance has found.

“…You kind of scored,” Rachel observes.

Lance’s laughter is breathy, high-pitched. “Believe me, I know.”

There’s a rousing shout from the kids, then a cheer, then Keith shouts, “Ready?” and at their raucous response, chaos breaks out. Sticks are strikes and parried and children throw themselves dramatically on the floor in pantomimed deaths, scrambling to their feet seconds later to get back into the fray. Every few seconds Keith calls out rules and reminders, weaving through the children to point out places for improvement or congratulate someone for doing something right.

“I have never seen them all gathered this long without any crying or fighting,” Rachel says, something like awe in her voice. She pauses. “Well, real fighting.”

Lance smiles, something small and secret and over which he has no control. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and waves, which is returned at twice the enthusiasm.

“Keith’s good with kids,” he says quietly. To himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have a heart so full it bursts.

———

The blankets are scratchy but warm, and Keith smells as he always does, and Lance is half asleep. But the words come leisurely out anyway.

“You awake?“ he whispers, words tucked into the spot above Keith’s heart.

Keith hums. Lance feels the rumble of it in his cheek.

“Barely.”

His eyes are too heavy to keep open, so he lets them slip shut. He breathes deeply the smell of his boyfriend’s body wash, and traces meaningless patterns on his chest with his fingertips, breathing slowly, taking his time. He might fall asleep, but that’s okay. They have time.

“‘M glad you came, today.”

Keith’s breathing is slow and even, just like Lance’s, but he can feel the heavy weight of his gaze, those indigo eyes.

“I go where you go.”

Lance quirks his lips. The blankets rustle softly as Keith slowly slides up his hand, encircling his fingers around Lance’s wrist, palm resting on his forearm. After a minute Lance can feel his heartbeat, at the same time that he hears it, head pressed to Keith’s chest. “You’re good with the kids.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like them. And your family.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s silent for a minute, palm heavy on Lance’s skin. “I wanna — do this, Lance. Forever.”

Lance turns his head slightly, just enough to press his lips to Keith’s sternum. “I will love you until the end of time.”

He feels Keith’s smile, sweetening the air.

“I love you, too.”

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (p. 2)

series masterlist

summary: the hughes-tkachuk family thanksgiving dinner from hell

warnings: mentions vomiting

a/n: here’s part two of my matty fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

xoxo

nina

Your parents' living room is loud and boisterous as everyone mills around for an early Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner had been a Hughes-Tkachuk tradition for as long as you could remember, but this year your stomach rolled uneasily at the thought of having to sit at a table and lie to everyone at it.

“Did the annulment go through?”

Matthew’s voice makes you jump as you turn to face him. His stubble has grown out into the beginnings of a beard and you can’t deny it’s a good look on him.

“About that,” your eyes shift down to your boots as you speak quietly. “They can’t annul it, we’re going to have to get a legal divorce.”

Matthew doesn’t say anything, simply drags you down the hall into one of the spare bedrooms before closing the door and looking at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean we need a divorce? I thought we could get it annulled and pretend like it never happened,” Matthew's tone was incredulous as he stared at you.

“Me too but apparently when you marry someone with a multimillion-dollar hockey contract that complicates things,” you swallow down the bile trying to climb your throat as you look up at Matthew. His gaze softens and you realize you must look scared shitless right now. “Listen I’ll figure it out okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Without warning, Matthew pulls you into a hug and you breathe in his warm woodsy scent, grounding yourself in the contact. You take a shaky breath as he runs a hand down your back, “Let me know how I can help, okay? I don’t want you stressing over this and it takes two to tango anyways.”

You barely hold back the urge to laugh at his statement, Matthew not knowing how true his words are. Instead, you nod and stay there for a few more comforting seconds before he pulls away, “You okay?”

Nodding you meet Matthew's eyes, “Can we talk after dinner?”

“Sure,” Matthew nods and presses a kiss to your forehead before he gives you one last smirk and leaves the room.

When you leave a few minutes later, everyone is starting to sit down around the table. You take your spot next to Luke and across from Matthew who winks at you as you sit. He groans and you see Quinn glaring at him, assuming your brother had kicked him under the table.

“Table is getting full,” Keith chuckles as he looks between all of the kids, Emma now seated next to Brady. “Might need a bigger one next year.”

Your mother lets out a huff and as soon as you look at her you know whatever comes out of her mouth next isn’t going to be good.

“I’d say so. In fact, I think someone here has a little announcement they want to make,” as you scan the table and meet Matthew’s gaze your stomach drops, both of your faces blanching. “Who wants to share?”

You and Matthew break away from each other's stares to look around at all of your siblings. None of them look like they’re quite sure what’s happening, but they all keep flicking back to you and Matthew.

“Mom-”

“Anyone want to tell me why there was a pregnancy test in the guest bath? A positive one at that?”

Your mouth snaps shut at your moms admission and side glances immediately start flying across the table. Most eyes turn to Brady and Emma, the newlyweds shaking their heads. Emma grabs her wine and takes a hearty sip before answering your mom, “Not me, I’m very much still enjoying my wine.”

Eyes dart around the table again and you can tell the moment Luke spots your can of Coke next to his bottle of beer, a long and loud groan leaving him, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Luke Warren Hughes! Language,” your father scolds, but you can barely register his chastising as you lock eyes with your twin.

“Okay but who’s pregnant?” Jack asks cluelessly as he continues to look around the table. “If it’s not Emma it’s Taryn or- Oh my god!”

You can feel every set of eyes at the table fall onto you but you can only meet Matthew’s gaze across the table, his blue eyes wide and searching as he stares you down. You hold his gaze until Quinn and Jack both start yelling simultaneously.

“Are you kidding me? You knocked up my sister you fucking douche canoe!”

“Holy shit! Holy shit this is from Vegas? First, you marry my sister then you knock her up?!”

At Jack and Quinn’s outbursts, you push your head into your hands as all four of your parents begin to hurl questions across the table. The noise leaves your head swimming as bile begins to rise up your throat, everyone around you shouting.

“Wait, Matthew got you pregnant?”

“What the hell happened in Vegas?”

“Did he just say you're married? How long have you two been together?”

“Does this mean we’re all going to be grandparents?”

As everyone continues to yell over the table you do the only thing you can think to do. Leaning to your right you promptly throw up your meager lunch into the potted plant next to you. Everyone stops as you continue to throw up and you vaguely register your mom ushering everyone out of the room while a hand settles on your back. You’re not entirely sure who’s holding you but the hand on your back is comforting.

“S’okay, I got you,” you’re slightly shocked when Matthew’s voice sounds out as his hand rubs your back. “Fun dinner huh?”

You huff out a laugh as you finally stop retching, looking over your shoulder at Matthew, “No one got a chance to take a single bite.”

There’s a silent minute where you’re simply breathing and trying to ground yourself before Matthew asks with a small voice, “You okay?”

Nodding slightly you sit up and face him, “I’m fine. Besides single-handedly ruining Thanksgiving and not being able to keep any food besides cranberry sauce down all day.”

Matthew chuckles as he runs a hand over his face, “Hey at least we had the common sense to get married before having a baby, huh?”

You both sit in silence for a second before a bubble of laughter bursts out from you, Matthew joining in. You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I found out last night, I was going to tell you after dinner. I didn’t want to freak you out before we had to sit down and lie to everyone about being married, but here we are.”

“It’s okay. At least we don’t have to stress about telling everyone,” you’re both quiet for a second before Matthew whispers his next words. “You… Do you want to keep it?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly as you focus on your fingers. “Yes I… I hope that’s okay.”

Matthew nods, pulling you closer before speaking, “I… Yeah. We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you stop puking yet?” Luke asks as he sticks his head around the corner. Seeing you and Matthew sitting together he rolls his eyes. “Good. Can you please go into the living room before someone in there combusts? I think dad and Keith are about to start throwing punches.”

Matthew helps you up and you walk hand in hand to the living room. Keith and your dad are yelling and Quinn is trying (and failing) to explain what happened in Vegas to your mom.

“You think if we slip out they’d notice?” Matthew whispers right next to your ear and you have to stop yourself from letting out a full body shudder at the feeling.

“Unfortunately, yes. Plus I’m getting kind of hungry so I want to wrap this up and get back to dinner as soon as possible.”

Matthew chuckles behind you and everyone seems to realize you two are standing there. Your dad takes a step forward, but you put your hand up to stop him from coming any closer as you step in front of Matthew.

“Okay so we’re not going to threaten to beat up the man you’ve known since he was five,” you fix your dad with a knowing look before eyeing your brothers over his shoulder. “You three are included in that.”

“Why don’t we just let the kids explain what happened,” Chantal broaches from her spot on the couch next to your mom. “Maybe we have the story wrong.”

“Ummm so we went to Las Vegas… And then we got married,” you can’t meet anyone’s eyes as you speak but Matthew grabs your hand again and squeezes it comfortingly. “So there-“

“You got married because you were drunk and couldn’t find something better to do,” your father asked as he stared at you and Matthew.

“Jim!”

“No, Dad-“

“Well it’s fine they can just get it annulled,” Keith says from his spot across the room.

“Not if she’s pregnant,” Chantal shrieks and you can feel your heartbeat pick up. “You are pregnant, right?”

You nod, feeling tears prickling your eyes as your parents begin to speak again.

“What if it’s not even Matthew’s?”

“Well you can’t have a baby out of wedlock! Even if it’s not his-“

“You saying my daughter is a-“

“I didn’t say that! I’m just suggesting-“

“Listen I know that all of this wasn’t planned but both of us are responsible adults who can make decisions on our own,” Matthew interrupts your parents bickering and you don’t realize you're harshly squeezing his hand until he pulls you back into chest. “Can we table this conversation and eat dinner? Please?”

Everyone files back into the dining room and you cast a grateful look to Luke who’s taken the seat across from you so Matthew can sit next to you. Plates get passed around and when everyone is eating you finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“So besides the impromptu elopement, how was Vegas?” your mom asks with a small grin and a chorus of laughter sounds from the table.

Left it kind of open ended but I love writing the Hughes/Tkachuk gang so maybe another part?

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 10

Just two more chapters to go and then this little story is done. I'm glad I wrote it. It was very cathartic for me. I hope it brought some comfort to you too.

Here we find out who Steve has been grieving this whole time and that Eddie mourned them too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

****

Steve was quiet and contemplative on the trip back. And Eddie let him be. That was quite the roller coaster of emotion he had gone through and he knew Steve needed time to sort out all of his thoughts and feelings.

As they neared Ashland, Eddie asked, “Are you okay? It got pretty heavy back there.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” Eddie admonished gently. “I was asking if you were okay.”

Steve sighed. “I guess I just had so many things bottled up that it all came out in a rush.”

“So talk to me,” Eddie said softly. “I know you think you can’t talk to anyone else because they’re all younger than you. But I’m not. So spill.”

Steve let out a long shuddering breath as if he had been holding it in for years.

“It’s just there have only ever been two adults involved in the whole Upside Down shit,” Steve murmured. “Well, there have been others, but either they haven’t been trustworthy or they’ve died. And I’m not going to lie and say I’m not bitter about Mrs Byers taking her family out to California and leaving me as the remaining adult.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie said softly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “That wasn’t right. I get she was trying to get Will and El as far away from Hawkins as she could, but considering the frequency of the U.D. coming back, it does seem selfish when looked at from your point of view.”

“El wasn’t the only one grieving Hopper’s death,” Steve spat out. “Why were only her feelings taken into consideration? Why was his funeral ‘a private family’ affair instead of one benefiting a hero where the whole town could attend? Why was El the first one that got to see him? Why did it take days before anyone else was informed?”

Eddie saw a shoulder and pulled off onto it, the Bimmer crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop.

“It must have been so hard on you,” Eddie murmured. “You mentioned back at the diner that he always looked out for you and then suddenly he was gone and no one thought to ask you if you needed time to grieve, right?”

Steve nodded. “I just felt so stupid after it was announced that he was alive, you know? Like how dare I mourn someone who hadn’t even died. But I thought that once everything settled down we would get a chance to talk, but nope. He went off to California with the Byers. They’re supposed all be back before school starts, but who knows if that’s even true.”

“Steve it isn’t stupid you grieved,” Eddie murmured. “But I bet if you told him what you’ve been feeling, he’d pretty upset that he hurt you like that.”

Tears started streaming down Steve’s face. “I just want to be loved as much I love them, is that really too much to ask for?”

Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him in for a hug. “Of course it’s not. And I don’t doubt if you stopped to really think about it you can name at least a half a dozen people who love you as much as you love them.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. “I could probably fill up all ten of my fingers, if I was honest to myself.”

Eddie wiped away his tears. “There you have it, big boy. But it’s okay to cry and if you feel like you need to fall apart, call me. I’ll come over with beer, weed, and bad horror films to mock until you laugh.”

Steve wiped his nose on his arm. “You promise?”

Eddie leaned back far enough to hold up his pinkie. “I pinkie promise.”

Steve hooked his finger around Eddie’s and shook on it.

“You ready to face the road again?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke up. “You remember when ‘fake’ cried for Keith?” He used his fingers around the word fake to put it into air quotes.

Eddie, who was about to pull into traffic again, cut the engine. “Holy shit. It was Hopper, wasn’t it? That’s who you were remembering.”

Steve nodded. “It’s easy to cry when thinking about him, you know?”

“Because it’s new and even though he’s not dead, you never got your resolution?”

Steve nodded again. “I just feel so selfish about the whole thing, you know. He wasn’t my dad. I wasn’t related to him in anyway. But I thought I meant something to him, you know?”

Eddie turned the car back on and eased into traffic. “I’m sure you meant a lot to him, but there could be extenuating circumstances that prevented him from expressing that. Like I said before, I bet if you told him how you felt he’d be gutted.”

Steve just shrugged.

Eddie glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell Dustin about the time you flirted with his mom to get the brownie recipe.”

Steve’s went wide. “That was not flirting! I was just buttering her up a bit. That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh I know that,” Eddie said with a grin. “But would Dustin know the difference?”

Steve thought about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eddie.”

Eddie giggled. “You know, sometimes I forget you like ‘Star Wars’, you just aren’t great with their titles.”

“The third one is my favorite, after all.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “So back when I was just little metalhead, dealing for the first time one of my best customers was the Chief.”

Steve blinked. “Oh wait, I think I did hear something about that. I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.”

Eddie shrugged. “He wasn’t up for re-election. Sheriffs are elected. And small town like Hawkins, change is difficult. Hop would have to straight up murder babies in town hall and smear their blood over the church walls to get people to not vote for him.”

Steve snorted. “I doubt even then. It would take him being soft on homosexuals before they ousted him.”

Eddie laughed. “You’ve got me there.”

Steve smiled at him.

“So,” Eddie continued, “the reason I bring it up is that despite what people think, I’ve never been arrested for dealing and Rick hadn’t either until Hop ‘died’.”

Steve straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Hop always said it was better to steer Rick away from certain places because he could,” Eddie said, “then it was to arrest him and have an all out war with the new supplier.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “That’s why Rick didn’t get arrested until Powell took over because he didn’t have the same philosophy that Hop did.”

“Right in one,” he said. “And it did get bad with people trying to fill the void he left behind. Uncle Wayne convinced to stop selling once I was out until Rick was released because I couldn’t trust the new suppliers not to cut their shit with something dangerous.”

“Holy shit, yeah,” Steve agreed. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because Hop looked out for me, too,” Eddie said. “Especially when my old man rolled into town. He would make sure he got to the carnage first and made sure I never got a record.”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “That makes since I always wondered why the police or Jason never brought up your arrest record. It’s because Hop made sure you never got one.”

“So this is me saying,” Eddie finished, “I get it. I get mourning him. Because in my own way I mourned him, too. Because between Hop and Uncle Wayne they made sure I could get out of Hawkins when the time came.”

“This is exactly why I pushed for a public funeral,” Steve grumbled, sinking back into his seat and crossing his arms. “I don’t know who had the final say on that, but it makes me mad that just because they didn’t have a body people in town wouldn’t want to come see anyway. It blows.”

“Here’s that,” Eddie agreed.

Too soon they were pulling up the Nelsons’ and the sun was starting to set.

By silent agreement they both got out of the car and sat on Steve’s hood to watch the sunset in a beautiful array of blues and purples until the sky darkened and the stars came out.

“Thank you for today,” Steve murmured. “For all of it. Getting me out here, taking me to my grandmother’s grave, sitting with me when I talked to Uncle Percy. Helping me with my grief even though yours is far more fresh and painful than mine.”

“Grief is grief, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You don’t get to decide when it heals over. You were there for me when my dad showed up, so I was more than happy to return the favor with your family.”

“Thanks, man,” Steve said.

“So...” Eddie said. “You want to tell me why you and your uncle weren’t keen to let your other uncle see you?”

Steve snorted. “He’s the one that was the most against my mom getting any kind of inheritance. He didn’t think she should have gotten anything because she was a girl child. He kept saying that she got her money in the form of the lavish wedding she had when she married my dad.”

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“He’s sued her at least three times that I know of. If he had seen me he would have started screaming about how my mom didn’t deserve that money and that I was just as complicit in its ‘theft’ as she was.”

“But he got the house or whatever it was, right?” Eddie asked.

He nodded. “Yeah and the two acres of land it sits on. If he were to sell it would go for at least a few million, easy.”

“I’ll bet,” Eddie said, whistling long and low. “Which means Percy got the business?”

“Which another thing that upset Uncle Jasper,” Steve said. “But Uncle Percy is the oldest and had the best business sense, but he can’t let it go that he thinks his siblings got the better deal.”

“I heard this quote once about how some people are content in life, but that others just can’t be. That they will always seek more. Nothing will ever be enough.”

“Uncle Jasper is definitely one of those.”

Penny poked her head out the front door. “Come on in, boys, it’s really getting late.”

Eddie and Steve stood up and walked back into the house, feeling lighter then they had since before March.

****

Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty

[dearsnow]

hi!! can i just request any two-bit fluff...like jus domestic warm fuzzy fluff ..maybe slight silliness...feel free to write whatever

AND YET

- you happen upon your very noisy “roommate” cooking away in the middle of the night (two-bit mathews x gn!reader, domestic fluff, lowkey so cute)

word count: 687

a/n - asther fulfilling a request??? within a reasonable time????? the world is turning upside down, y’all 🫡 i hope you enjoy 😭

“Keith, seriously?” Your voice is hoarse, a desperate whisper that borders on a shout. It is 2:42 AM, and your recently-moved-in, much-loved but forever annoying boyfriend is making a four course meal in your kitchen.

Surprisingly, this is the first time you have ever seen him cook more than microwaveable meals and the occasional pack of instant ramen. He looks up at you, clad in pajamas, fuzzy socks, and a shit-eating grin. “What, I was hungry!”

“You’re gonna be hungry when I kick you out.” You mutter. “Couldn’t you at least be quiet about it? I heard pots and pans and humming through our very thin bedroom walls.”

“You can’t kick me out, I’m too fun.” He smiles. He puts a lid on his pan of frying bacon and turns off the heat. “You love me. Admit it.”

You scoff, but when he takes your hands in his, your heart skips a beat.

“You looooooove meeeeee,” he sings, ��c’mon, just say it.”

“I would love you so much more if you didn’t wake me up so early on a work day.” You say, trying desperately to hide the fact that the corners of your mouth are turning up. Like always, though, somehow he notices. It’s like every almost-smile from you is a win, one more thing to keep him going before he runs out of energy and crashes into bed, legs entwined with yours and mouth slightly open.

He spins you around, still humming a song you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had just made it up. “I love you, and you love me. That’s why you’re dancing instead of yelling.” You laugh. You’re supposed to be angry with him, but the tension between your eyebrows dissipates when you look at his smiling face. If Two-Bit had just one talent, it would be switching your mood to happy. No matter what, no matter how annoying he is sometimes, you’re happiest when you’re with him.

“Yeah, I love you,” you gasp as he dips you so close to the floor you can feel the cold tile sucking in your heat, “and I love that you can make me laugh,” he pulls you back up, “but really, what are you doing making all this food at such an ungodly hour?”

He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head against your neck. He leads you in a few steps, his warmth smoothing the goosebumps on your arms. “I wanted to do something nice for once. You’re always making me breakfast, and you leave earlier than me, so I thought I’d make a bit of food that you can just heat up when ‘m dead asleep.”

“Really?” You move back to stare at him, eyes soft in the dim kitchen lighting. “That’s… that’s really sweet, Two. Thank you.” If you were being honest, you thought he barely noticed you taking care of him in that way. You figured that it’s just something that comes with dating someone who seems like they could burn water.

“Nah, it’s nothin’.” He turns his head, a blush creeping up his neck towards the apples of his cheeks. “I just want you to know I appreciate what you do. This whole ‘me movin’ in’ thing put a whole lotta stress on your shoulders, so some domestic effort from me couldn’t hurt. I’ll at least try be quieter next time, though.” He raises his eyebrows and presses a quick kiss to the back of your hand. You can feel your own cheeks heating up. “I don’t want you ruining the surprise again, hm?”

“Yeah, it sounded like an elephant was training to be a chef in here.” You tease. He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears like a sweet bell. It’s a sound you don’t think you could ever get tired of.

He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. He would drop anything to have you pressed against him at all hours of the day.

“And yet you still love me.”

You grin at him. “And yet, my love, I won’t ever stop.”

[dontcallmeeds]

Part 2 of Eddie Making Jewelry For Steve; Part 1 here / Part 3 here / Part 4 here

Steve had figured it out after the second little box that was left on the Family Video counter.

He didn’t see Eddie leave it, he was too involved in his conversation with Robin that happened to be about his panic surrounding Eddie.

See the thing is, he knew there were bisexual people and he knew he liked men for years.

But saying it outloud and falling for his best friend? Well, that was a whole other thing.

The way Steve figured it out was the handwriting on the little notes. It felt a little crazy comparing his Family Video card paperwork to the notes, but Robin was the one who suggested it.

Eddie looped his lowercase Es tightly, to the point they almost looked like Cs. And his Is were always lowercase with a circle instead of a dot.

It really just had to be him leaving the beautiful pieces that made Steve’s heart melt and his stomach fall out his ass. Although, he still had his doubts. There was no way his dream guy was just being that fucking perfect, that wasn’t usually how Steve’s life went.

But oh god did he sure have hope.

Steve thought he was being obvious that he knew, wearing the ring that he had fallen in love with in front of Eddie. He even fidgeted with it and caught Eddie staring at it before the other man quickly looked away.

He couldn’t help but tear up in the Beamer after the outing, asking Robin for advice only resulted in drunken living room karaoke, not a plan.

Steve tried to ask where he got his pieces once so maybe him and Robin could run surveillance like old times, but Eddie ended up being vague and elusive.

When Steve brought Nancy into the secret op, she suggested a stake out which felt like stalking. She started a board with dates and drop off locations and roughly estimated it was every 2-4 weeks on dates Steve was usually busy.

It was coming up on almost a month since the last drop and Steve was practically showing off with the last chain, making sure his polo was just open at top enough for Eddie to see.

The flushing across Eddie’s cheeks into his chest was everything, but still his metalhead said nothing.

It was time for Nancy’s plan.

Steve dropped days he’d be busy, watching as Eddie seemingly made a mental note of them. His feigned disappointment was shaky, Steve hoping he’d just blurt it out without confrontation.

But alas, nothing.

Nancy put on her ‘undercover journalism best’ aka a literally just a black sweater and black pants, borrowing her parents car instead of using her own. And I’m that moment Steve felt—

“Am I crazy? Is this whole thing crazy?” Steve paces the Family Video aisles between romance and comedy, which felt pretty fitting considering his love life was a joke.

Robin places a hand on his shoulder and gives him that all encompassing look between the fact that she thinks it’s completely sane, but also really fucking crazy.

“You want to know for sure, right? Not just the handwriting or little weird glances?”

Steve sighs and then nods slowly, he really did want to know for sure. But the problem is what came after.

“Okay then, we’ll just see what Nancy says then hmm? For all we know it could be a boring—“

As if on cue, the walkie they stole from the kids crackles.

“Steve—it’s for sure him, he just—“

“HE JUST WHAT?! WE NEED ANSWERS WHEELER,” Robin shouts into the speaker before Nancy can even finish, Steve grabs the walk-in out of her hand with a scoff.

“Say sorry to your eardrums for her Nance— so wait, what happened?” Steve tries to shove down his nerves, but his fingers on the device tremble.

“He leave something in your mailbox, do you want me to—“

“Steve, GO!”

He really needs to teach her what an inside voice is.

“Are you—“

“I’ll cover you, if Keith comes back I’ll—I’ll make up a dead aunt or say you ripped your pants, I don’t know! I’m not good under pressure, you know how I get Steve. Goddamnit, just go before I start rambling!”

Steve nods and handing her the walkie, running out the door. He knows he breaks the speed limit on the way home, knows if he gets pulled over he can just use the Hopper card. He normally wouldn’t, but extreme times and all that.

Nancy is pulled into the drive when he gets there, popping out when she sees him pull up next to the mailbox.

“Hey I wanted to stay, for you know, support,” she says with a small smile, seeming to enjoy this all way too much.

“Nance, you didn’t have to—“

“Yes I did, Steve. Now fucking open it before me and Robs burst a blood vessel.”

Steve nervously chuckles, his fingers twitching on the mailbox door before pulling it down to a little red box.

‘Stevie, something different,’ is all it reads.

He shares a glance with Nancy, before pulling it out.

[sattlersquarry]

the end is here (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Season 4 adjacent) Your boyfriend Steve Harrington is keeping secrets from you, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it. (Title comes from "I Know The End" by Phoebe Bridgers.)

This is a direct continuation of the video store frame-up of '86. You don't have to read that one to get it but I recommend it!

Word Count: ~5.3k

Warnings: angst up the wazoo w/ a happy ending, language, mentions of sex, some violence and mentions of medical emergencies/broken legs/painkillers.

A/N: Tonally, this is quite different from the video store frame up of '86 but I wanted to explore what it'd be like to be an outsider in Hawkins during Season 4 when all the shit is going down.

gif is from the Netflix giphy account

March, 1986

Working with Steve is fun, and your relationship blossoms the more time you spend together. However, there’s still a nagging thought in the back of your mind—the thought that he’s keeping something from you. Something big. You ignore it as best you can, but you have a feeling that your curiosity is going to catch up to you. 

And it does the day you clock into your shift and see Steve, Robin, and two of their friends searching the Family Video database for an unfamiliar name.

“Uh, who’s Rick Lipton,” you say, “and why are you four stalking his rental history?” 

The group whirls around, startled by your sudden appearance. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Steve says. He angles his body so you can’t read the computer. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my shift, same as you,” you say. You crane your neck to get a better look at the screen. “So, does he have mega late fees or something?”

“Who?” Robin asks innocently.

“Who else? Rick Lipton, the guy you’re looking up.” 

“It’s nothing like that,” the curly-haired boy with them says. He’s Dustin, one of Steve’s closest friends. 

The name of the girl, with plaited red hair and sharp blue eyes, escapes you. Margie…Melanie…Meg…it starts with an M. You’re certain of that much. 

“Max and Dustin were just leaving,” Steve says, giving them a look.

Max! That was it. 

“But we need you to drive us,” Max says to Steve. 

“Drive to Rick’s?” you guess. “Why?”

Steve looks different than you’ve ever seen him. He’s agitated. Not the kind of agitated you’re used to: frustrated with Keith’s many demands or annoyed with his role as resident carpool king. No, he seems…scared. 

“Rick and Dustin have a mutual friend,” Steve says coolly, attempting to assuage your curiosity (and failing). “We just need to check up on him, that’s all.” 

“And it’s a time-sensitive matter,” Dustin says. “So we need to go now.”

He starts dragging Steve and Robin toward the front doors, Max on their heels. 

“Can’t it wait?” you say. “I can’t run the store myself!”

“Sorry!” Robin says with an apologetic grin. “We’ll make it up to you! I’ll cover any shift, promise!”

Steve wrenches free from Dustin’s grasp. He returns to the counter, and you think he’s going to say he won’t leave you alone. 

Instead, he reaches under the counter to grab his jacket and car keys. 

“I’m so sorry to ditch,” he says quietly. “Seriously, I know this is a dick move.”

“Mm-hm,” you say, eyes narrowed.

“But it’s important. Dustin’s friend might be in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” 

“I can’t tell you.”

You scowl.

“Please don’t be pissed,” Steve begs. “It’s a slow day, and Keith will be around later. You’ve got this!”

You’re mad. But you’re also a bit worried. Steve’s very responsible and wouldn’t leave unless it was important. And he still looks so scared…

“Steve…what’s really going on?” You step closer and lower your voice. “Is everything okay with you? I mean, I know you’re worried about Dustin’s friend, but—“

“I’m fine,” Steve says. He kisses your temple. “I’ll call you tonight. Okay?”

You nod and force a smile, watching him race out of the store and unlock his car for his friends. They pile into the BMW and zip away. 

Someone clears their throat. You snap your head to the right, where a punk kid with spiky hair stands by the cassettes. 

“Do you have the newest Madonna tape?” he asks, shocking you with his music taste, considering his whole vibe. 

“Uh, yeah,” you say, thankful for the distraction. “I’ll help you find it.”

***

Steve doesn’t call you that night. Or the next morning. 

And when you arrive for your next shift, you’re greeted by Keith at the counter, not Steve or Robin. 

“Where’s Steve?” you ask. 

“Your loverboy called in sick,” Keith says, before taking a huge bite of a breakfast burrito. You wince as he continues talking with his mouth full: “Buckley is sick too, so it’s just you and me today.”

“Great,” you say flatly. Both Steve and Robin being sick the same day isn’t inherently suspicious—they are best friends and hang out all the time. But after what transpired yesterday, their absence is fishy. 

That, plus the fact that Steve had the time to call Keith and not you, sours your mood. 

“And since they’re out, I’ll need you to work a double.”

“Fantastic,” you snap. “That's exactly how I wanted to spend my Sunday.” 

“Hey!” Keith says. “No sass. Family Video employees must remain upbeat and positive at all times. We want our establishment to be a welcoming place. Not a dark hole of pessimism…like Blockbuster.”

You plaster on a big, fake grin.

“Much better,” Keith says smugly, before disappearing to the back room to file some paperwork. 

The day drags on. There isn’t much traffic to the store, due to the announcement that not one but two Hawkins High students were killed. People seem too scared to go anywhere or do much of anything. 

On your lunch break, you call the Harrington house. No answer. Either Steve is too sick to reach for the phone on his nightstand, which frightens you, or he’s off with his friends.

You wonder if Dustin’s friend, the one they went to find, is one of the victims. The thought makes your stomach twist. Maybe that’s why you hadn’t heard from Steve or why he wasn’t home—he needed to comfort the younger boy through his grief. 

When it’s finally closing time, you decide to drive by the Harrington house to check in. No BMW in the driveway confirms that he’s definitely not home sick. 

You feel a bit sick yourself wondering where he is and what’s going on. 

***

The next day is your day off. You call Steve first thing when you wake up. You also drive by his house again after breakfast. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth…

…until you take a shortcut down Maple Street and see his BMW parked at the Wheeler’s house.

You haven’t heard from him in two days, and his car is at his ex-girlfriend Nancy’s house. You feel numb. 

Steve didn’t seem like the type of person to stoop to infidelity, but you haven’t known him for that long. And he (and his friends) are definitely keeping something from you. Maybe all that “Rick Lipton” stuff was a cover-up so Steve could hang out with his friends and cozy up with his ex. 

You hate how jealous you feel. You hate how it makes you want to cry, scream, and throw a brick through the BMW’s windshield.

Against your better judgment, you park by the curb and stomp toward the front door. You aren’t usually a confrontational person, but you feel a spark of anger that won’t be tamped down unless you get some answers. 

You ring the doorbell and knock, for good measure. A tired-looking, middle-aged man opens the door.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Wheeler drawls.

“Is Steve here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“The troublemakers are in the basement,” he says. He sarcastically adds, “We already have enough guests to legally be considered a hotel. What’s one more?” 

Mr. Wheeler opens the door a bit wider and allows you in, pointing you in the direction of the basement door. You thank him before charging down the steps. 

Dustin and Max are down there, along with their other friend Lucas. Max scribbles furiously at the desk while the boys sit on the sofa, heads bent low while they discuss something with hushed voices.

“Where’s Steve?” you demand, scanning the room as if you expect him to pop out from behind a corner. 

“Whoa!” Lucas says. “How’d you get in here Y/N?” 

“Mr. Wheeler let me in. He’s a real peach. So. Steve?” 

“He’s upstairs in Nancy’s room,” Dustin says. 

Your eyes widen.

“Not like that!” Dustin says quickly, sensing the miscommunication. “They’re just talking!” 

“Talking alone in her room?” 

“To be fair,” Lucas says, “Robin’s there too, so it’s not like it’s romantic.”

“And it wouldn’t be!” Dustin says. “Steve only has eyes for you. He told me so.”

“You, and Phoebe Cates,” Lucas corrects.

“Right. You, Phoebe Cates, and maybe Cindy Crawford.”

“Definitely Cindy Crawford,” Lucas says. “Have you seen her?”

Max turns in her seat and glares at Lucas. He gulps.

“I mean, Cindy’s not my type. But Steve loves her.”

Your turn to glare.

“Not as much as he loves you!” Lucas says. He turns to Dustin. “We’re making things worse, aren’t we?” 

“Yes,” you say. “I’m gonna go talk to him.” 

“You can’t,” Dustin says. “They’re a bit preoccupied. And I know that sounds suspicious, but I promise. Steve isn’t cheating on you.” 

“Then what is he doing?” you say. “And why hasn’t he called me?” 

“All good questions,” Dustin says. “But I can’t answer them.” He gestures to an armchair nearby. “You can wait for Steve if you want. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” 

You consider it, but this whole situation is weirding you out. What are Steve, Robin, and Nancy so preoccupied with anyway? Does it have to do with the murders? And why won’t anyone just tell you what’s going on?!

“I have to go,” you say, voice clipped. “Just tell him to call me.” 

You storm up the stairs and out of the house. A sense of dread overwhelms you—dread that threatens to swallow you whole. 

***

At around 11 o’clock that night, someone knocks at your apartment door. 

In a half-asleep stupor, you stumble to it, gripping your baseball bat. No one should be visiting this late, unless—

“Y/N? It’s Steve! Can we talk?”

You huff and put the bat down, opening the door for your (sheepish-looking) boyfriend.

Your facial expression remains stony as you study him. 

“Hey,” he says. He clears his throat. “Can I come in?”

In lieu of a response, you turn on your heel and stomp to your couch. Steve locks the door behind him and follows.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, sitting next to you. He reaches to put an arm around you, and you pull away. He deflates. “Babe—”

“Is this the part where you say you can’t tell me what’s going on?” you snap. “And you promise to call me tomorrow, but then you don’t, and the only reason I’ll know you aren’t dead is because I’ll see your car at your fucking ex-girlfriend’s house?” 

Steve closes his eyes and sighs.

“I deserve that. But it’s not what you think. Whatever you think is going on, I promise, it’s not that.”

“So, what is going on?” you say. 

He turns away and rubs his face.

“I—”

“You’re sorry,” you deadpan. “Why don’t you throw in one more? Best things come in threes, you know.” 

You’re being unfair. You know this. Steve’s obviously very upset about something, and you’re being too harsh. But the way he’s acting, and the way he’s not giving you a real answer why, is driving you insane. 

He hesitates and reaches for your hand. You allow him to take it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. His eyes are wide and mournful and desperate. “But I just can’t talk about it. Not right now. I’ll make it up to you. Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” 

You take a deep breath and feel your anger evaporate at his sincereness. 

“You could start by kissing me?” you say.

Steve’s face splits into a grin and he leans in, kissing you softly.

Well, it starts soft. The heat picks up a bit too fast for your liking, and you push him away. 

“Whoa buddy,” you say. “I’m so not in the mood for make-up sex right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, blushing. “I didn’t mean to push.”  

“I actually need to get some sleep,” you say. “Care to join me?” 

“I really should be getting back,” Steve says, glancing at his watch. “Max is going through a really hard time right now. She needs as much support as she can get.”

You want to know more details, so you try not to be too specific and ask, “Do you think she’ll be okay?” 

Steve nods.

“She’s strong,” he says. “She’ll be fine. She has to be.” 

He kisses you goodnight and leaves. 

This time, he doesn’t promise to call. You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

***

The next night, Steve shows up again much too late, looking as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s wearing the same navy polo and jeans from yesterday. You don’t know how you feel about that, as the reminder that Max and the group are staying at Nancy Wheeler’s house rattles around in your head.

“How’s Max?” you ask, pouring Steve a cup of tea.

“She’s a bit better,” he says. He rubs his eyes. “It’s sort of…touch and go.”

You sit across from him at the table with your own mug and ask, “I hope I’m not being insanely nosy, but is she…sick?”

“Not really sick, exactly. At least, not physically.” Steve hesitates before adding, “She’s grieving. She lost her brother Billy at Starcourt. She hasn’t been the same since then.”

The Starcourt Fire of 1985. It was a big stain on Hawkins history, along with the myriad of disappearances, deaths, and government conspiracies that marred the town’s legacy. 

You aren’t sure how to respond. You settle for drinking your tea in a slightly uncomfortable silence. 

“You know,” you say after a beat, “I have a bunch of old board games and movies. I could bring them over to the Wheeler’s place tomorrow if Max wants to check them out. It might lift her spirits.”

“No,” Steve says quickly. Off your hurt look, he says, “No, sorry. I mean, we won’t be at the Wheeler’s tomorrow. We’re going for a drive.” 

“A drive?” 

“Yeah, a drive in the…in the countryside. So Max can clear her head.”

He’s lying to you. He’s lying to you and he’s bad at it and it makes you sad and mad all at once. 

“Please, for the love of god, cut the bullshit,” you say. You slam your tea down harder than intended and it sloshes across the tabletop. “What are you guys actually doing?”

Frustration flashes across his features.

“I told you, I really can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t say that! It’s not!” Steve says, voice raising. He stands from the table. “I can’t tell you! Why can’t you just accept that?”

You stand as well, crossing your arms.

“You’ve got to at least get your story straight if you’re going to lie, deceive, and leave me out!” you yell. “What is this really about? Because first it was all about Dustin’s friend, and now it’s Max. Or does it have something to do with the murders?” 

Steve goes ghostly pale at the mention of the recent killings.

“I won’t tell you,” Steve says firmly, a fraction more calm than he was moments before. “It’s too dangerous.”

“So it does have to do with the—”

“I have to go,” Steve says, storming toward the front door.

“Steve Harrington, you get back here!” you call, following him. 

Too late. He’s out the door, slamming it behind him. 

As soon as he’s gone, your resolve just crumbles. You cry. You cry, because your sweet, sensitive boyfriend is acting like a different person. You cry because he’s obviously hurting and in some kind of trouble but won’t talk about it, making it impossible to help him. You cry because you don’t want to lose him, because you’ve only been dating for a short time but you might love him. Because you aren’t sure how much longer you can do this.

***

You’re back at the Family Video the next day, working alongside Keith and Randy, a former employee home from college on spring break. Randy’s a pretentious film student who won’t shut up about movies you’ve never seen. It makes you wish you were working with Steve today, despite last night’s argument. You aren’t even sure if Steve wants to be your boyfriend anymore, and that thought tortures you all day. 

“The Godfather is a perfect film,” Randy drones as the two of you log returns in the computer. “Have you seen it?” 

“No, I prefer comedies.” 

Randy scoffs. 

“Oh, that drivel?”

“Comedy is not drivel!” you protest. “People need to laugh sometimes.” 

You spend the rest of your shift defending your favorite movies, and you seriously consider whacking Randy upside the head when he insults The Muppets Take Manhattan. 

Again, you drive past Steve’s house, and are surprised to see his car parked in its usual spot. 

“Steve?” you call, banging on the door. “It’s Y/N. Are you home? Can we talk?” 

You continue knocking and shouting for him to answer, to no avail. Eventually, his next-door neighbor yells for you to shut it, so you leave. 

At 2:30 in the morning, your phone rings. You mumble a “Hello?” into the receiver, wondering if you’re dreaming.

“Hey, Y/N.” 

It’s Steve. You figured as much. Who else would call so late? 

“Hey,” you say, feeling more awake than you did before. 

Part of you wonders if this is evidence of some kind of shift in your relationship. Maybe Steve doesn’t want to actually date you anymore. Maybe he just wants to sleep with you, and that’s why he’s only been visiting and calling late at night, and not talking about what’s going on. You don’t like that thought. 

“I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Steve says with a deep sigh.  

He sounds weary, and almost hoarse. This panics you. Under normal circumstances, you’d think he was just sick. But now, you aren’t sure what to think. 

“Steve, where are you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does! Are you okay? You sound weak.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it as an insult! Seriously. Do you need me to come get you? Or call an ambulance, or something?”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Just tired. Tired, and missing you.” 

“Well, then, why don’t you come over?” you say. You tamp down your worry and try a different tactic: “Maybe we can finally give that make-up sex a try.” 

You hear a chorus of “Ew, gross!” and “Gag me with a spoon.” 

“Sorry, I should’ve told you,” Steve mumbles, “I’m not alone.”

“Yeah, I got that now. Is Max doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. We're at her place now. I just wanted to…no, I needed to call you and say sorry. These past few days, I’ve been really shitty to you.”

“You kind of have been,” you say. “But I haven’t been very supportive. I’m sorry too. Whatever’s going on, I hope it, um…gets better.”

“Thanks,” Steve says. “Oh, and about the make-up sex—can we get a rain check?”

“I’ll see if I can pencil you in my busy social schedule,” you tease. “Call me tomorrow night?” 

“I will,” Steve says. His voice wavers and he adds, “I promise.” 

***

The next night, he does call. Still wearing his gear from the Vecna battle, he calls your house from the hospital payphone minutes after Max is wheeled into surgery. 

“Pick up, pick up!” he grumbles. “Why aren’t they answering?!” 

“Have you tried calling Family Video?” Robin says. “It’s inventory night. Keith always makes us stay late for inventory.”

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says. He looks at Robin with panicked eyes. “We were supposed to be there for inventory. Did you remember to call out for us?”

“I thought you did!”

“Here’s some more quarters,” Nancy says, appearing from around the corner with a handful of coins. “After you call Y/N, I need to call Max’s mom and the Sinclairs. Robin, have you called your family yet?” 

Steve dials the Family Video number and waits with bated breath. He groans when the call doesn’t connect. He needs to hear your voice, to know you’re okay after the earthquake. 

Unfortunately, you are far from okay. 

You’re at the store doing inventory with Randy, listening to more of his dry takes, when the earthquake hits.

Randy immediately begins to panic.

“There’s no tub!” he screams over the sound of the rattling earth.

“Huh?!” you yell back, holding onto the counter for dear life.

“In an earthquake, you’re supposed to hide in a tub!” He scans the room and gasps. “Or a doorframe!”

He darts toward the doorframe that leads to the back room. 

“Randy, stop running!” you scream. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

You notice a tall shelf of tapes tip forward and you surge ahead, pushing Randy out of the way as the shelf hits the ground. In the scuffle, one of your legs gets pinned underneath it. 

A bloodcurdling scream echoes through the store. It takes you a minute to realize the sound is coming from you and not from some banshee.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Randy yells. “Y/N, are you okay?” 

The earthquake slows, the violent shaking making way for a quiet rumble. He runs back to you and tries to lift the shelf off of you, with no luck. 

“It’s too heavy,” he says, face pinched with fear and a bit of guilt. “Can you move your leg at all?” 

You wince and shake your head, tears running down your face.

“I can’t move it,” you say. You sniffle. “It hurts really really bad.”

“I’ll call for help!” Randy says. He grabs the phone off the counter and curses. He tries the second phone, and then races to Keith’s office to try the third. “No signal. I guess the quake took out the telephone lines. I’ll go get someone!” 

“Don’t leave me!” you cry out. “Please!” 

“I’ll be right back,” Randy says. “I promise! And I’ll reevaluate my stance on comedies, just for you.” 

“I appreciate that,” you say through sobs. 

Randy rushes out into the night, and you hear him shouting, “Hey, hey! We need an ambulance!” 

As you lay alone in the video store in unimaginable pain, you worry. You worry about Steve and his friends, hoping they fared better than you in the natural disaster. You worry about your leg, wondering if you’ll ever be able to use it the same again. You worry that you wasted your time being upset with Steve, and—in a particularly dark moment—you worry that you may never see him again. 

After what feels like an eternity, Randy returns with a group of paramedics.

“Hey there,” one of them says. “Are you Y/N?” 

“The one and only,” you say through gritted teeth. “I can’t feel my leg anymore. Are you going to have to amputate it? Please say no.” 

“Amputations are rare,” another paramedic reassures you. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get this thing off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?” 

***

The rest of the night is a blur for you. The paramedics free your leg and pump you full of so many painkillers, it’s hard to focus on much of anything. 

You don’t feel fully like yourself again until the next morning, when you wake up in a hospital bed with a bright blue cast on your leg. 

A soft snore to your left indicates company. You are so relieved to see it’s—

“Steve!” you shout, startling him awake. “What happened to your neck?!” 

“Y/N, oh my god,” Steve says, jumping from the armchair he was uncomfortably squished into. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Did someone choke you?” you say, sitting up against your pillows. “Who do I need to fight?”

“You aren’t fighting anyone until that’s gone,” Steve says, pointing to your cast. He gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, careful of your leg. “Geez, I was so worried about you. I called and called, both the store and your house, and then I saw some paramedics bring you in on a stretcher, and I just panicked. I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

You reach over and hold both of his hands with yours. He smiles at you, but his eyes are sad. 

“I’m here,” you say. You wince. “My leg hurts like hell, and I’ll probably never walk, run, or swim as fast as I used to, but I’m here.” 

“I’m so glad you are,” he says quietly. He sucks in a breath. “Max got really badly hurt in…in the quake. She’s unconscious and they don’t know when…if…she’ll wake up.” 

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

You pull him into a hug, and he holds you tightly. 

You know you should keep your mouth shut and just be in this moment with him, but a nagging thought in your mind won’t leave you alone.

“Steve,” you say quietly, pulling away. “I don’t usually believe in ultimatums, because things aren’t usually so black-and-white. But I’m about to give you one. Please don’t hate me.” 

Worry flashes in his eyes. He shakes his head. 

“I could never hate you,” he says, voice cracking. 

You squeeze his hands and say: “If you can’t be honest with me about what’s going on, I think we have to break up.” 

Steve’s eyes widen. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, before he can say anything. “I know that’s so unfair. But what’s a relationship without honesty and communication, and we just…don’t have that at the moment. I have the sneaking suspicion that this earthquake and the killings are connected, and I think you know more than you’re letting on. The earthquake did this—” You gesture to your leg. “And I feel like I have a right to know the truth. To know what’s hurting you. Please, Steve. Just tell me.” 

You watch his facial expression. Unreadable emotions flick across his features, and you can tell he’s brainstorming. Thinking hard, trying to determine the right thing to say next. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice low. “It’s dangerous. Really dangerous. I don’t want to involve you if I can help it.” 

“Steve—”

“I don’t want you to get hurt—”

“I already got hurt!”

“I won’t put you in any more danger,” Steve says. He looks about two seconds from sobbing, but he says, “Ignorance is bliss, right?” 

It guts you to do so, but you gingerly drop his hands. 

“Okay.” 

“Y/N, can we just—”

“I think you should leave.” You can’t even look at him as you say it, instead staring at some wilting daisies on the windowsill. 

Steve opens his mouth as if he’s going to protest, but closes it and nods.

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he whispers.

You nod, despite the part of you deep down screaming for him to stay. 

He hesitates before walking out. 

***

A day and a half later, you’ve been discharged from the hospital. From your perch on your couch, you watch ash swirling outside your window. The sight is terrifying, and the news is full of weathermen trying to make sense of the strange weather pattern. 

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

You hobble to your feet, clumsy as a baby deer due to your crutches, and open the door.

“Steve!” you say, a bit shocked (yet relieved). He’s got flakes of ash on his head and shoulders, looking like a dusting of snow. “Hey, I was going to call you. I think I made a big mistake—”

“I want to tell you everything,” he blurts out. 

You stumble a bit and he grabs your shoulders to steady you.

“Really?” you say. “Because I thought about it, and you don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” Steve says. “You’re right. I need to be fully honest. And, frankly, I can’t do this without you.”

So you let him in, and you sit on the couch with your injured leg propped on pillows while he tells you everything. About Will Byers going missing, and how he wasn’t just lost in the woods like everyone thought. About how he came back from another dimension but he brought something dark and twisted with him, an evil sort of presence. How that evil presence latched onto Max’s brother Billy last summer and used him as a general of sorts, collecting more soldiers to create a terrifying monster. How the mastermind behind the plan, Vecna/Henry Creel/One, is the real murderer.

“Everyone thinks it was Eddie,” Steve says, looking down at his feet. “But Eddie sacrificed himself so the bats wouldn’t swarm our version of Hawkins. If he hadn’t done that, the casualties would’ve been a lot worse.” 

“And Vecna tried to kill Max too?” you say. The first thing you’ve said since he started his tale. 

“He did kill Max. But she came back, somehow. It’s a miracle.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Monsters and alternate dimensions and evil doctors. It’s all the stuff of science fiction…right? 

Steve huffs out a laugh at the twisted frown on your face. 

“You don’t believe me,” he says.

“No! I do. I’m just…processing.”

“It’s all true,” Steve says. “Every word. And as much as it sucks, I have to help my friends stop Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all. Once we do that, maybe things can get back to normal.” 

“Sounds like a plan. When do we start?”

Steve’s brows pull together. 

“Uh, did you just say ‘we’?”

“I did. I want to help.”

“No way!” Steve scoffs. “I told you because I didn’t want to keep it from you anymore. Not because I want you to get involved in this fight.”

“Steve—”

“Y/N! Seriously!” Steve says. He laces your hands together. “You’re, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not going to let the person I love throw themselves into this mess. I need you to be safe.” 

He looks up and is a bit surprised to see goofy grin on your face. 

“You said you love me,” you whisper.

Steve blushes.

“Oh, right. I hope that’s okay?”

“You hope it’s okay that you love me?” 

“Uh, yeah. And I hope you’ll take me back, but if you feel like you can’t after everything I told you I understand and—”

You grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss. He melts into it, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I love you too,” you say, once you finally pull away. “And I am taking you back, and I’ll respect your wishes not to get involved in your monster hunting mission, but you have to promise me that you won’t get killed or something, because that would massively suck.” 

“You got it,” he says. He checks his watch.

“You heading out?” you ask, a bit disappointed.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nope. I have three hours until I’m meeting the others to discuss our next move.”

“Three hours,” you say, eyes sparkling a bit hungrily. “Huh. There’s so much we could do to fill that time…one activity I can’t get out of my head rhymes with ‘take-up schmex.’”

“Y/N. Your leg is broken.”

“The medical term is actually ‘smushed,’ so I’m cleared for sexual activity.” 

“Is that so?” Steve says. “Well, if your doctor says it’s okay…”

In one fluid motion, he scoops you up in his arms. You squeal in surprise as he carries you to your bedroom.

Hawkins had changed overnight. Everything Steve told you makes it seem like a much scarier, darker place. 

But you have Steve, and he has you, and you know that no matter what happens next, nothing is going to change that.

***

tagging some people who asked about it and/or expressed interest in this fic! Y'ALL ROCK @crappymixtape @starry-eyed-steve @mrskeery-mclaughlin @sailor-steve

[unclewaynemunson]

Belated happy birthday to @steviesbicrisis! Your bday post made me think about a steddie pride and prejudice au with a twist so this one's for you :D

(obviously this takes place in a world where gay marriage has always been completely normal. Fuck historic accuracy)

----------

Steve feels his face light up when an all-too-familiar knock sounds through the house; there's only one person in his life who tirelessly drums out the most elaborately ridiculous rhythms on the wood of the door. 

Unsurprisingly, Eddie stumbles inside a moment later. Something is different, though, Steve notices that much right away. His friend doesn't barge into the room to drape himself over the couch like he usually does. Instead, he closes the door behind him and keeps standing still right in front of it.

'I have some news for you,' he says, in a strangely solemn voice.

'Is something wrong?' Steve asks, immediately worried.

'No.' Eddie shakes his head. He smiles, but it's only a weak version of his usual bright grin and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 'No, it's um... It's good news.' He nods, almost as if he's saying that to convince himself, and Steve feels a frown creep onto his own face.

'I'm engaged. To Keith.'

For a few seconds, Steve can do nothing but stare at him.

'Engaged?' he then stupidly repeats.

'Yes.' Eddie nods again.

'To be married?!' Steve asks urgently.

Now, Eddie rolls his eyes. 'Yes of course, Steve, what other kind of engaged is there?'

Steve feels his jaw drop. 'How– Why–'

'Oh for heavens sake, Steve,' Eddie impatiently interrupts his stuttered, unfinished questions. 'There's no earthly reason why I shouldn't accept his hand.'

'But he's – ridiculous!' Steve finally manages to spit out.

And something shifts in Eddie's posture. 'Well, not all of us can afford to be romantic,' he says with a chilly edge to his voice. ‘He's rich, he can give me a comfortable home and a reasonable position in society – I wouldn't dare ask for more.'

'Eddie,' Steve says. He doesn't even know where to start. He wants to tell Eddie exactly how much more he deserves than some gross creep, how he's betraying everything he stands for by marrying Keith, how he's signing for a life devoid of any happiness – but before he can even begin to properly phrase any of those thoughts, Eddie already narrows his eyes at him. He looks at him like a cornered animal, and Steve understands that Eddie interprets his silence not as caring, but as judging, or maybe even pity.

'I am twenty-seven years old,' Eddie says, his voice colored with a kind of forced calmness. 'I have no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my uncle. And I'm frightened. So don't judge me, Steve, don't you dare judge me.' Then, he resolutely turns around and opens the door.

'Eddie, wait,' Steve quickly says.

For a second, it looks like he won't listen, like he will walk away without looking back – but then, he turns his head around, and Steve sees tears glistening in his eyes.

'I – I'm not judging you. I'll respect your choice, even if I don't understand it. Don't cry, please.' He knows it's a useless thing to do, telling people not to cry, but he hates seeing this look on Eddie's face. It makes his hands itch with the desire to hold him.

'I’m just... You caught me off-guard. I didn't know you were interested in marriage all of a sudden.'

'Why does it matter?' Eddie asks with an arched eyebrow. 'Were you planning on asking me if I was?'

And that question, phrased in such a sarcastic way, paired with the defensive look in Eddie's eyes... The insinuation of how truly preposterous that would be feels exactly how Steve would imagine getting stabbed in the heart would feel like.

It makes him realize that he has nothing left to lose. Eddie will walk out of that door – maybe they'll make up, maybe they won't, but their friendship will never be the same as before Eddie got engaged to Keith.

'What would you say if I was?'

Eddie stares at him. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Steve just stands there, waiting, until the surprise on Eddie's face makes place for something more unreadable.

'Don't be ridiculous now, Steve.'

'Is it truly that much more ridiculous than you marrying Keith?'

'Are you seriously asking me to marry you only to keep me away from Keith?'

'No, I –' Steve pauses; he wishes he would have had time to think about what to say. It feels like his words won't ever be able to do his feelings justice.

'I have loved you for years, Eddie,' he finally admits. 'And if you truly want to marry Keith, I won't try to change your mind. But I can't let you go without telling you the truth.'

Eddie's eyes widen as he lets the words sink in with a shocked look on his face.

'You love me?' he repeats in a slightly raspy voice.

Steve nods, only to be met with more silence, as the clock on the wall ticks away the seconds.

'You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to know.'

'Steve... Is this a goddamn proposal or not?'

'I don't know.'

'You don't know?!'

'I mean, it isn't – I don't think it is.’ Steve stumbles through the words. ‘I don't want you to choose me because I'm richer, or – or better-looking than Keith... I only want to marry for love, and I'm not as arrogant to expect you to feel the same way about me.'

'Oh, Steve...' The shock on Eddie's face melts away, softening his features and making the look in his eyes gentler.

'You don't need to pity me.’

'No, no way, I'm not pitying you,' Eddie answers. He takes two big steps towards Steve, wraps his hands around Steve's. They're warm and familiar and making him miss what he can't have even stronger.

'If I had known... Stevie, I would've never said yes to Keith, it's not even close to a competition. If I had known I could have you, all this time... I never even thought I'd stand a chance. You're probably the most perfect person I know, and I'm, well, just Eddie.'

'Oh, we need to work on your self-esteem, baby.' The pet name slips out of Steve's mouth before he can help it, and it brings that beaming bright smile to Eddie's face; the smile that Steve loves so much.

He feels Eddie’s hands slide around his waist and they rest their foreheads together, both breathing shakily, trying desperately not to let their emotions overpower them.

'Does this mean that we're engaged now?' Steve finally manages to ask; his voice is shaking but he needs to hear it. He needs to be sure that he indeed gets to hold the man in front of him for the rest of their lives.

Eddie utters a tearful chuckle. 'I suppose I have another wedding to cancel first.'

[artiststarme]

Oblivious Eddie

This is kind of the opposite of @ladykailitha's current story. It turned out a lot longer than I anticipated lol. Featuring the screaming match that you guys voted on! I hope you guys like it and please share your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve was at his wit’s end. Things were now back to normal in the summer after the supernatural happenings of the Upside Down in the spring. The older teens had graduated from high school (Eddie included), the younger kids were off at camp or work or rehab respectively, and Steve was working his usual shift at Family Video. 

He was alone today since Keith was out of town on vacation and Robin was touring the campus at Indiana State. He was bored out of his mind. The entire day, he’d had a mere four customers with plenty of time to rewind the returned tapes, organize the shelves in a way Robin would hate, and take a variety of magazine quizzes. He now knew that his spirit animal was a golden retriever, Tom Cruise would date him for his personality, and that his zodiac sign would find fortune in the next month. 

However, if something interesting didn’t happen in the next ten minutes, he was going to do something drastic like pull his hair out or something. As the minutes ticked on, he started getting worried. Steve prided himself on being a man of his word and he made a decision which meant he had to stick to it. But did it count if it was a thought to himself? Would he have to pull his hair out by the clump to prove a point to his own brain? Maybe he-

His spiral was cut off by the jingle of the door’s bell. Steve let out a sigh of relief, “Welcome to Family Video, is there anythi- Eddie! Hey man, what’s up?”

Eddie had gotten a part-time job at Thatcher Tire and was trying to bring in some money from work of the legal variety. He said it was time to make money like an honest man and develop the good habits of the working class. Steve thinks that Hopper threatened him about the drug dealing and Eddie had no choice but to abide by his rules because he was the one who cleared his name in the media and with the cops. Either way, Eddie should be at work but instead he was walking straight towards Steve with a swish to his hips. 

“Heya Big Boy, guess what.”

“What?” Steve asked in curiosity. He didn’t know what would make Eddie so happy but his face was nearly splitting with the force of his beaming grin. 

“I got a call from a concert venue in Indy and they want Corroded Coffin to perform! They said that my notoriety from Spring Break could work as publicity and bring in more people. They want us to play this weekend!” Eddie was practically jumping up and down in excitement. 

Steve hopped the counter in order to envelop Eddie in a hug, “congratulations man! What did the kids say? Are they excited for you too?”

Eddie pulled back slightly, just enough to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder and look him in the eye whilst pulling a strand of hair from its position stuck in his mouth. “The kids? I don’t know, I came directly here to tell you.”

The comment in Eddie’s earnest tone caused butterflies to flutter in Steve’s stomach. He wanted to tell him first? That’s so sweet. Then he shook his head, it wasn’t sweet. It was just a dude telling his bro some exciting news. That’s all. 

“They’re going to be thrilled, Eds! You’re going to do great, I wish I could see it.” 

“That’s kinda why I’m here. Would you, Steve Harrington, do me the honor of watching me perform the most metal concert ever in a dingy venue in Indy this weekend? I’ll be honest with you, I’m a little nervous and having you there would make me really happy.” Eddie looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster, trying to persuade Steve to go. And honestly, he didn’t even have to. As soon as he had told Steve about the gig, his mind started thinking over blackmail he could use to get Keith to cover his shift. 

But, as he looked into Eddie’s pleading eyes and pouty lips, all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss him. Which… what the fuck?! Steve wasn’t gay, he liked boobies! He still liked boobies! But now he thinks he liked the picture of Tom Cruise in the magazine from earlier and maybe Matthew Broderick on the movie poster over there and definitely Eddie, fuck. Steve needed to have a mental breakdown, STAT. 

“Fine, yes, I would be honored to go with you. Now, get out of here and tell the kids. They’re going to be thrilled,” Steve said as quickly and nonchalantly as he could muster in the face of his fast-approaching sexuality crisis. 

“Yay! Thanks Stevie, I swear you’re going to love it. I’ll see you tomorrow for movies and beer at mine, right?” Eddie asked over his shoulder while walking to the door. 

Steve felt like he was being strangled as he watched Eddie’s ass walking away, “yep, I’ll be there. See you later, Alligator!”

The second Eddie’s van drove out of the lot, Steve was rushing to lock the door and turn the closed sign. He needed to have a breakdown in peace. He slid down the wall of the disgusting Family Video bathroom and let the pent up sobs explode out of him. He knew he was freaking out over nothing but he couldn’t help it. It felt like in the few minutes it took for Steve to realize he liked guys, his entire world had changed. He was an outsider now, a queer, a freak. Deep down, he knew there was nothing wrong with being gay. Love is love. But why him?

Honestly, this wasn’t the worst thing he’d gone through. Yeah, he couldn’t be open with his love for another dude without being targeted which sucked. But he fought literal monsters with a bat and came out of it relatively unscathed. So this obviously wasn’t the end of the world. 

Steve tried to think of what Robin would say in this moment but couldn’t come up with anything. He felt a rush of irrational anger at her because of it. Why did she choose to tour a college campus now? She was already planning on leaving him behind and now she missed his crisis when she was supposed to be there with him? Ridiculous, some platonic soulmate she was. 

After another several minutes of freaking out, he started to calm down. This wasn’t an awful thing despite his initial thoughts. He knew Eddie was gay after one two many beers and a miniature freak out on Eddie’s part. And he knew his friends should be okay with it. And Eddie was amazing, they went through the same things, and they’ve bonded over their matching bat scars. Looking back, maybe that’s why Steve hasn’t been able to get a girlfriend in months… because he like-likes Eddie!

A plan started to form in Steve’s mind. He was going to woo Eddie and show him what it would be like to have the full ‘Steve Harrington Dating Experience’. He’d flirt, take him on dates, the whole shebang. And when Eddie inevitably fell for him, they could be boyfriends. With the plan in mind and the crisis averted, Steve left the bathroom, opened the door to the shop, and continued plotting for the rest of his shift. 

This would be a piece of cake. 

~*~*~*~

This was much harder than Steve had originally anticipated. He did not consider how utterly unobservant Eddie was or how oblivious Eddie would be to his affections. Steve had been flirting with this fucking guy for a month now and he was no closer to making him his boyfriend. 

He’d started smooth the night after his breakdown when he and Eddie watched movies and smoked weed in his trailer. Steve had given Eddie a compliment on his outfit, brought beers, and rested his arm on his shoulder during one of the scarier movies. What did Eddie do? Nothing! Steve thought he might’ve seen the barest hint of a blush when he wrapped his arm around him but it was gone before he could check to make sure. So he vowed to spend more quality time with him to be more obvious. 

The next time was at Eddie’s concert. Steve drove Eddie’s van with Eddie and the rest of the van the entire way to Indy. During the drive. They kept up conversation about metal music, summer plans, and the kids. At one point of the drive, Steve straight up grabbed Eddie’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Eddie didn’t even break his train of thought and continued speaking, rubbing his thumb along Steve’s knuckles. Steve couldn’t even focus on listening as if Eddie’s thumb rubbing circles didn’t make Steve want to stick his fingers in his mouth. Physical touch was also not affecting his guy. 

He tried words of affirmation next and those didn’t work either. His flirts initially started small. He would compliment Eddie’s clothes, his hair, or the things he liked. Then they escalated to comment on his character, his personality, and ‘how adorable he was’. Yesterday, Steve literally told him that his ass looked great in his black jeans but would look better out of them. That statement made Eddie’s jaw drop and he let out a loud guffaw before continuing his conversation like Steve hadn’t just implied that he wanted to see his bare ass. Son of a bitch. 

He was trying out acts of service when Eddie called him out. Steve had been doing the dishes at the Munson trailer while he waited for Eddie’s shift to end when he came in. And he came in hot. He slammed the door behind him and waved his hands around in flailing outrage. 

“Harrington, what the actual fuck! What are you even doing? You’re so fucking confusing!” He screamed as he saw Steve scrubbing at a stain on a white cutting board. 

Steve whipped around to look at him and narrowed his eyes. He was the confusing one? He’d been flirting with this dumbass nearly every day for a month and getting nowhere. “I’m confusing? That’s rich coming from you.”

Eddie blinked in shock before his lips pulled back in a snarl. “First of all, nothing about me is rich. Second of all, yes it’s you that’s confusing! You’ve been fucking flirting with me for weeks and no you’re doing my uncle’s dishes! That’s confusing.”

“Why is it confusing? I’m doing the dishes because you weren’t home yet and I needed something to do. I’m flirting with you because I like you. What’s confusing?” Steve was legitimately confused at this line of questioning and he really didn’t understand why Eddie was yelling. 

“You like me? Newsflash- you’re straight. You’re the straightest person that I have ever met. I don’t know why you keep flirting with me or what angle you’re trying to play here but I’m not interested in being your experiment, Harrington.” Eddie yelled at him, his finger pointing at Steve accusingly before moving to hug himself in self-comfort.   

Steve saw his discomfort but elected to act defensively and yell back at him. “I’m not straight, I never said I was and you never asked! I like both and it’s really shitty of you to try and tell me who I like when you have no idea what’s going on!”

Eddie opened his mouth to talk but Steve plowed on, “your whole schtick is nonconformity and sticking it to the fucking man but you draw the line at me liking guys and girls? Maybe I don’t like you as much as I thought I did. You’re obviously just as rude and judgmental as everyone else. And you’re welcome for the dishes, fucker.”

Eddie grabbed his arms as he went to move past. “Harrington, Steve, Stevie. I’m sorry, please just listen to me. Steve!”

Steve jerked his head to the side to glare at him. “What?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you or not be appreciative of you washing our fucking dishes. I just, I didn’t know you liked both and I was losing my mind the past few weeks because I couldn’t figure out if you were flirting with me or if it was just you being a good friend or if you were playing a prank or something. I’m sorry and I do appreciate you,” Eddie was biting his lips nervously and his hand was still wrapped around Steve’s upper arm. He looked earnest and like he genuinely regretted his actions. 

Steve sighed, “I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“I’m not uncomfortable! I was just really confused and I didn’t know what was happening. But uh, I like you too.”

Steve’s eyes met Eddie’s. “You do?”

“Hell yeah, man. You were my gay awakening in middle school. That’s why I’ve been so frustrated this past month. I didn’t know if I was imagining it or if I actually had a shot,” Eddie chuckled. 

Steve stepped closer to him and put his hand on the back of Eddie’s neck. “You definitely have a shot.”

And then, Steve pulled Eddie’s face closer to his own and their lips smashed in a kiss. Eddie groaned as their teeth gnashed in the bruising kiss. When they finally pulled apart, they pressed their foreheads together and breathed in the same air. Steve whispered, “you were my gay awakening too.”

Eddie’s answering cackles were so loud, Max came over to tell them to shut the hell up. She got a free front-row seat to their liplock and let out a scream so high-pitched that the window glass quivered before running back to her trailer. On the bright side, they wouldn’t have to come out to the kids.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @pyrohonk

[gnrbitch]

For the night

SlashxFamous!Y/n

Warnings: Smut!🙊

Redemption: Your band name!

Y/N JONES MOODBOARD!

———

1989

Gnr and Redemption had been smushed together on a tour as the opening act for The Rolling Stones, and they were all having a blast. I mean how couldn’t they? With 5 girls and 5 guys they were all entangled with one another.

Well… except for Y/n and Slash. The front woman had fiery confidence that made everyone burn as she walked. And to Slash’s luck, all the boys had claimed the other girls before he could.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/n was the hottest member in Redemption. Sure all the other girls were very good looking. But everyone knew there was something about Y/n. Untouchable. Hypnotic. That’s what she was. In every aspect, her looks, confidence, songwriting, and voice.

But the thing was, Y/n was literally, untouchable. No matter how smooth Slash was with her, she never cared! And did that upset the curly haired guitarist.

It was like he was a game to her, he would get so close, yet he was so fucken far.

But he didn’t let himself get too hung up on her, he had the groupies!

Slash had been over this little game Y/n was playing with him, so he’s been with the groupies and paying her no mind.

And Y/n could laugh at the poor man, his poor attempt of trying to pay her no mind was not working. She could feel his eyes burning into her body as she was onstage. Even worse when Keith Richards would always shower her with his sweet little compliments.

Which is what was happening right now.

“Girls! Always putting up a great show.” Keith said as the girls came off stage. They had performed after Guns, so there was no rush for anything. “Thanks Keith” the girls said as they all went to each others little tour boyfriends.

Slash watched from the couch as Keith put his arm around Y/n waist. “You get nastier every time i see you out there.” he said as Y/n smiled at him. “You think?” she said looking at him, Keith looked over her shoulder then span her around to where she faced the rest of the room.

“What’da do to the boy Y/n” He said smiling “Lookin at me like i’ve touched his most prized possession.”

Now it was Y/ns turn to look over Keith’s shoulder, making straight eye contact with Slash and sending him her sweetest smile. Slash just rolled his eyes and put his attention back on the groupie sitting on his lap.

“I haven’t done anything” She said looking back at Keith. “And that’s exactly what’s got his balls in a twist.” She said smiling at him. “I’ve gotta say you play a mean game” He said, now lighting a cigarette. “You know it, I’ll see you later Keith.” She said kissing him on the cheek and walking away.

———

“Slash” Duff said as he and Amber caught up to their curly headed friend. “What” He said smoking a cigarette as they walked through the hotel halls. “I have a hugeeee favor to ask you” Amber said as she looked across Duff.

Slash gave her a short mumble, which she took as an okay to keep talking. “Okay so, please please pleaseeee switch rooms with me” She said holding up her key card.

Slash blew out his cigarette smoke, “D-” “okay yes im rooming with Y/n” she said cutting him off “But comon, were all gonna all hang out get fucked up so all you’re gonna have to do is walk back with her and knock out!” She said holding on to Duffs hand, almost jumping up and down.

Duff looked at Slash with a pleading look, the curly haired man sighed and shook his head “Fine. But you owe me Duff.” He said as he traded keys with Amber.

He walked to he and Y/ns room, huffing and puffing cause he was so upset that instead of rooming with Duff, he was stuck with rooming with the girl that he had been trying so hard to avoid.

He rubbed his hands on his face before entering the room, “it’s just for the fucking night” he mumbled to himself.

During this, Y/n was also huffing and puffing, but for a different reason. The poor girl couldn’t find the only bra she bought with her on this tour. Looking through her bags, cigarette in her mouth with nothing but mini skirt and a white pair of ankle socks on.

As she heard the door open, she had her back faced to who she though was Amber, and said “Am, have you seen my bra? like the only fucken one I bought on tour?”

Y/n jumped when she heard Slash’s deep voice “Haven’t seen it”

She stood up and faced him, her hair being the only thing covering her breast.

“Scared me there baby” she said as she took a hit of her cigarette. “Didn’t expect you to be rooming with me”

Slash took a quick glance at her chest “It’s just for the night Y/n”

“You know,” The half naked girl said putting her cigarette out, “I’ve noticed you haven’t been talking to me” she said as she looked at him.

“I really miss your attention yknow?” she smiled at him.

“Whatever, i’m heading to Axls room” He said, but he was really gonna go out to find a groupie and imagine himself fucking Y/n.

Y/n grabbed his hand. “Why go? when you could just stay here with me” she said sending him her iconic sultry smile.

“There you go” he said pulling himself away from her and taking a step back.

“What do you mean?” She said slightly cocking her head to the side. “You know exactly what the fuck I mean.”

“You know” Y/n started as she stepped closer and closer to him “You’re the most impatient man” She said looking up to him, since he was only a few inches taller than her.

Slash looked at her, unable to move, “You’re such a fucken tease”

“Oh i’m the tease? really?” She said smiling at him, moving her mouth to his ear “You can’t even imagine what you make me feel” she whispered “When you’re out there on stage, all sweaty, all big and bad.”

She bit his ear lobe before looking back at his face, both of them looking at each others lips.

“I’ll show you a good time baby” she said looking at him with her doll eyes, kissing him.

Slash had to take a moment on what the fuck just happened, but after a split second of feeling her lips on his, he started to kiss her back.

Y/n deepened the kiss as Slash gladly did too, one of her hands around his neck as the other found it’s way to his hair. Pulling his head back to catch a breath.

“You still wanna go to Axls?” She said teasing him. “Fuck you” he responded as he lifted her by her legs and reconnected their lips.

She giggled as he threw her on the bed. Looking up at him as he stood before her. “Not fair that i’m the only one who’s topless” She said as she tugged the hem of his shirt.

Slash threw his shirt off, walked over to the side of the bed and layed down on his back.

Y/n looked over her shoulder, smiling at him as she crawled over to him and sat right on his waist.

His hands moved her hair out the way of her tits and began to grope them.

Smiling, Y/n reconnected their lips and began to rub herself on his leather pants. Her skirt had been risen up, her flimsy panties being the only thing covering her crotch.

Slash parted his lips as Y/n kissed down his neck, using her hands to unbutton his pants.

“You’re so fucken hot” he panted, feeling she was moving at a slow pace on purpose. “I know” she smiled as she had successfully put his pants down, revealing his hard member.

Looking down at his dick, she was excited. Spitting on her hand, she began to rub his member. “You’re bigger than I expected” she said, Slash’s mouth open as he slipped one of his hand in her underwear, rubbing her wet pussy. “shut up” he said.

He flipped her over in a swift movement, now fully taking his pants on as she took off her skirt.

Moving her panties to the side as he continued to rub her clit, “I don’t know why you would keep these on Y/n” he said using his free hand to rip them off her her. Y/n moaned “Fuck you, those were my favorite.”

“Shut up” he said as he lifted one of her legs to his shoulder, and in one swift moment, he filled her up. Y/n let out a loud moan, feeling him stretch her out.

He stood still for a moment, feeling her walls clench around him. Moving at an slow agonizing pace, Y/n moaned, “Slash- please”

“What do you want baby?” he said teasing her, though it was killing him also. “Please” she said, heavily breathing “Fuck me”.

And that was all Slash needed to move faster. Gripping her hips, his thrusted in and out of her.

He looked at Y/n, face flushed, eyes closed and head thrown back. He moved his hand from her hip and grabbed her face. “Look at me” he grunted. Y/n opened her eyes, tying to stop them from closing. “Fuck” she moaned out as Slash started to rub her clit as he reconnected their mouths.

Barley kissing, they moaned into each others mouths. Slash moved his head to the crook of her neck, lightly kissing her all over. “Fuck- you’re so fucken perfect” he said as his hips continued to move. “Please Slash” Y/n continued to moan “Im so close baby please” she said as she felt herself about to cum.

“Comon pretty” Slash said, now looking into her eyes, propping her leg back on his shoulder, fucking her like an animal, “cum for me”.

And she did, her eyelids fluttering, pulling him to her chest as she moaned his name like a fucken prayer.

Slash’s hips began to falter as she came, feeling her walls grow tighter. “Where do you want me to cum” he said quickly, not knowing if he was able to hold back. Heavily breathing, Y/n whispered “inside”.

With a few deeper thrust, Slash came, feeling like he was in heaven, his body on fire.

They both stayed there, trying to catch their breath.

He slipped out of her, throwing himself next to her.

Y/n got up to clean herself up, coming back to find Slash looking at her with such admiration. “Sleep with me tonight” She said looking at him “I’m kinda forced to yknow” he smiled, helping her under the covers. Giving him a kiss, she snuggled next to him and drifted to sleep.

And all Slash could do was look at her, and realizing he just fucked himself over. Because he was in love with Y/n Jones and her little fucken games.

———

FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT OMG 😭!!! I hope it wasn’t too bad. Hope u guys enjoyed🙊

[vldsideblog]

Part 1 of Trials and Tribulations of Raising a Feral Desert Child.

Not sure how I’ll post this on ao3 since I only have a small part done but I thought I’d post it here for now. Also some of this was in italics but got messed up so yeah, you should still be able to tell.

Tw for small mention of Shiro’s illness Incase that might upset anyone.

—

Keith was an interesting kid to say the least. Shiro had taken him under his wing just weeks ago and he was starting to think he couldn’t handle this by himself.

First off he probably should’ve known he was in over his head when he had to get the kid out of juvie just two hours after meeting. But Shiro had seen the fire in Keith’s eyes. The kid was going to be something great, but only if he got some help. Otherwise he might end up dead in a ditch. Shiro didn’t like that thought so his decision was pretty easy to make. He would make sure Keith stayed out of as much trouble as possible and got the future he wanted. No one else seemed very keen on giving the kid a chance.

Keith had taken him up on the offer of joining the Garrison, and when Shiro first saw him flying the practice simulator he saw the despondent distant kid light up. The kid was born to fly, Shiro could relate.

But Shiro was just one person. A tired, disabled guy with a time limit dangling over his head. Even if he had a few good year’s before he got worse, he needed to make sure Keith was set up for success by that time. Wait, when did I start thinking like a responsible adult.

The moment Shiro realized he actually needed to ask for help, was when the kid unofficially under his care decked another cadet in the middle of school. Definitely not an ideal situation.

Shiro just had a talk with the kid, he believed in him, he really did. But they had to do something about his ‘punch first talk it out later’ behavior, and Shiro thought he had just the right person to ask for help.

-

Adam was skeptical at first about the kid Shiro had taken under his wing. Based on the haphazard way the two met he assumed nothing good would come of this mess. But Shrio looked like an excited puppy whenever he mentioned how the bored and lonely kid lit up while flying. And Adam wasn’t fond of ruining his boyfriends happiness. Even if that meant getting a delinquent thirteen year old into a prestigious space academy.

So when Takashi asked him if he could help Keith control some of his anger, Adam reluctantly agreed. He had his own issue with a fiery temper and figured he could at least give a few solutions.

Takashi had told them both to meet at an outdoor table in an out of the way courtyard on garrison property. The day was hot, the Texas heat still beating down on the state’s population. The lack of clouds or breeze didn’t help.

As he rounded a corner he found the slightly discolored picnic table already occupied. Takashi was standing and talking to a young teen, with a gentle reassurance.

Adam had only ever seen Keith’s Garrison ID picture, so his casual weekend attire was new. The thirteen year old was sitting cross legged on the table, watching Adam with a hawkish suspicion, dark eyes following his every move.

His bandaged fingers were messing with the hem of his sun faded black cargo shorts, they had obviously been mended many times if the extra stitching and occasional patch meant anything.

He wore a loose gray and black striped t-shirt and his black hair was cut into a choppy mullet. Adam wouldn’t be surprised if the kid had cut his hair himself. His other gloved hand was resting on the sun warmed wooden table.

Takashi stopped talking as he noticed Adam’s appearance. “Hey, babe.” He must’ve already mentioned their relationship. “I should be back in around an hour.”

Takashi turned to say something to Keith that Adam couldn’t quite make out then headed around the corner.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Keith.” Adam gave a small smile. He wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit, with the kid sitting on top of the table instead of at a bench. But he figured he might as well go with it.

Adam pulled up another nearby picnic table and sat on the edge of the tabletop. As much as he tried to show a put together and careful presence. He also liked sitting criss-cross-applesauce like a normal human being.

Keith seemed to find this amusing as he let a small smile grace his recently bandaged face. Though he did stay firmly silent, not answering Adam’s attempt at conversation.

“So Shiro asked me if I could talk to you?” Keith’s face remained blank. Great, this was going to be sooo easy.

“So you got into a bit of trouble, cause you have a bit of a tem—.” “I punched Griffin in the face.” Keith said his name like a bad word, “He deserved it.” Keith’s left hand was drumming against the worn down wood of the table. He looked bored, like he’d had this same conversation more times than he could remember. Based on what he’d heard from Takashi, he probably had.

“Well, yes. You punched another student in the face on school grounds, during a class. Obviously you can’t keep doing that.” Adam tried to make eye contact with Keith to really drive home the message, but Keith didn’t seem keen on eye contact, so Adam just looked at the kid while Keith looked at his hands. This is going fantastic.

“May I ask, why do you think he deserved it?”

Keith’s posture stiffened and his response was short and mumbled, Adam couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“Could you repeat that?”

Keith cracked his knuckles and for a second Adam thought he was going to be beaten up by a middle schooler. Which would be really embarrassing. But thankfully Keith just repeated himself.

“He said I didn’t deserve to be here.”

“Well, that’s obviously not an okay thing to say, and he should be spoken to about it. But I don’t feel as if that’s worth attacking someone over.”

Keith scoffed, “Well then we don’t seem to agree.”

Teenagers really are nightmares. But it didn’t feel like the full story. Keith was holding something back, something probably important.

“Why are you qualified to talk to me about this anyway?” Keith switched the questions onto him.

Adam sighed, was he really going to tell some brat about his middle school years. “Well, I get the anger for one. I used to have quite the temper when I was younger, I still kind of do.” At this admission Keith perked up a bit.

“When I was a kid I got overwhelmed really easily, I never had a lot of friends cause I would yell at people when I was stressed.” Adam picked at some lint on his shirt hem. “But I was able to get some help, I don’t yell at people anymore.”

“Well that seems ridiculous, how’re you supposed to change a stress response?” Keith side eyed him with cynical skepticism.

“It’s not like I don’t get overwhelmed or frustrated anymore, I’ve just learned better ways to deal with it. Instead of being aggressive about it, I try to be more sarcastic about stuff that stresses me out. That way I still have an outlet, but I’m not taking it out on innocent people.”

Keith nodded a bit as if trying to understand.

Adam continued, pulling a small stress ball out of his bag. “I also carry one of these around with me, so when I notice myself getting upset I can squeeze this and try to let some of the tension out.”

Keith cocked his head to the side almost resembling a cat. “So you’re sarcastic and carry a stress ball?” He gestured to himself, “I don’t think that’s going to fix me.” His eyes were harsh and his voice monotone.

“I’m not trying to fix you kid,” Adam tried to phrase it another way. “But if we can find tools to help you control your anger, then wouldn’t that help you too?”

Keith crossed his arms.

“I just thought that maybe if you had a punching bag, or could listen to some heavy metal it might calm you down.”

“I don’t hate that idea actually.” Finally we’re getting somewhere “Can I tape a picture of Griffin's face to the punching bag?”

“You know what, sure. As long as you refrain from hitting the real guy, go ahead.”

Adam spent the rest of the hour with Keith by showing him some of his favorite stress release music, and giving him directions to the Garrison gym, where a few punching bags resided.

By the time Shiro showed up and the kid left, Adam wasn’t sure how he felt.

He seemed a bit standoffish and bored, but was willing to take some instruction if he got to pitch in.

Maybe Shiro was right about this kid. Or maybe he’s an idiot with a heart too big and inability to leave someone behind.

Adam shouldered his bag and headed back to his and Shiro’s little Garrison issued house.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 52

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. and a quick note before i start: happy one year, everyone! a year of fic rec fridays! i started doing these when my blog really started to take off, and it's been an honour to share these with you :)

A Kind Demon And A Scary Angel by vrepit-nah (anonymous)

Day 18 - Forbidden Love Shiro breaks his head trying to appease the angel and demon on his shoulders and stop them to killing the other. He soon finds out that he didn't need to after all.

making lance's troublemaking ass the demon. so real. poor shiro can never have a break in any universe 😭😭 he just wants to vibe and he just gets bothered by klance all the time

2. Of Friends and Rivals (And Lovers) by vrepit-nah (anonymous)

Lance McClain has a big family, and that means no one is really ever alone in a room at any point of time. It becomes unnatural for him to feel when he’s in space in a huge castle with barely any people. So, he tries to fill the hole in his heart by seeking out his teammates. It strikes Keith odd one day when Lance begins hanging out with him instead of his other friends, and worst of all, it seems like Lance is caving in on himself without anyone noticing. Or: 5 times Lance seeks out to hang out with a friend, and the one time he doesn’t.

the first time i read part v i gasped OUT LOUD bc i was like no way he's gonna fuck up that bad. no goddamn way. and then he DID and i HOLLERED

3. Today, anew by MemeKonVLD (MemeKonYA)

“Lance.” Lance’s eyebrows furrow in concern for a second before his whole face goes gentle and open. “Hey buddy, everything okay?” Keith nods. Then shakes his head, then opens his mouth to let out a noisy sob before he’s hugging the air out of Lance, grip vise tight. Lance hugs him back. That’s one of the great things about him— he doesn’t— he doesn’t need explanations for things like this. He doesn’t make Keith jump through hoops, the way other people might— he’s just— he just knows what Keith needs in times like this. No façades, no posturing. (Or: the one where Keith is trapped in a time loop. A time loop from hell.)

their worst nightmares are each other dying. i am going to lose my mind. i am sobbing and screaming and yelling on the floor. i am sucking on cement. nobody touch me

4. Visions by @snowwarning27

"It’s funny, because as a tattoo artist he makes art that lasts pretty much forever – as far as the person who has it is concerned – but a street artist…their art lasts maybe a couple of days." Keith comes in for a tattoo; Lance immediately falls in love. With his art. His love for Keith comes later.

it's usually tattoo artist keith but tattoo artist lance my LOVE. also i will never get over graffiti artist keith i think about him all the time the punk ass

5. story received, story included by @freshia

(4:20PM): u know, number neighbor, i think i need a chiropractor.  (4:23PM): ? (4:25PM): because my back really hurts (4:25PM): from carrying this conversation ;(

Lance texts his number neighbor.

i LOVE texting fics. they're so fun. and lance in a texting fic is always funny bc it's so obviously true that he would be so funny if he had time to think about it. and of course keith would fall for him over text

that’s it for today!! happy one year! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[silentwillowwhisperer]

We were robbed of this

Guys Keith and Allura are besties. I hate that they only had an interaction when dream works needed her to create racial drama for him. And once they make up, they go back to being distant.

———————-

Does Keith have a random collection of art supplies hidden in his closet?

Nope.

He goes to Allura’s room instead. Thanks to their shared experiences and mutual feelings of unbelonging, they’re actually best friends. (Shiro and Coran are family, so don’t worry, they aren’t being replaced.)

Allura practices hairdos and makeup on Keith while he puts her untouched art supplies to use and spills his guts to her. It’s a win-win, Keith gets things off his chest that he can’t say to anyone else, and Allura gets all the gossip.And, of course Allura shares a bit, but she finds it easier to listen to others and find comfort in that.

Which is why she feels horrible betrayal crawling through her gut when Shiro and Keith got to the Marmora base and won’t tell her anything anymore.

She knows it’s because he’s worried that he’ll crack and gush everything to her ( can never keep secrets from the princess) but she doesn’t understand what could be so bad that he doesn’t want to get advice from her.

It feels like she’s losing him.

She finds out that he is half Galra and explodes internally. Not only had she told the enemy her darkest secrets, but she actually valued him.

It had to be a mistake, or maybe Keith is even faking it to cover up something else.

But the deep hurt that floods his eyes any time she looks at him is very clearly genuine.

She’s never seen him looks so wounded. Wait, yes she has. He looks like this when he talks about his dad running into a flaming building and leaving him behind forever without a second thought.

And Keith has been getting more stressed without a creative outlet as well, and the whole team notices the tension when Keith makes it past level 183 on the training simulator.

Lance has gotten more protective and it is common to see him with an arm around Keith protectively and sending Allura loathing looks.

Keith and Allura make up when she realizes how crappy she’s been but doesn’t know how to apologize as sincerely as he deserves.

She takes her chance after Keith announces to the team that he and Lance are are officially dating. Allura had known about Keith’s crush for a long time now, longer than Shiro.

Allura slides up to Keith during dinner.

“So. You did it. Make sure you hang on to him, he seems like a good one.”

As the resident lesbian of the castle, Allura does not understand the men she is surrounded by, but Keith is the only one willing to indulge in ‘girl time.’

When Keith only raises an eyebrow at her sudden interest in him, she starts blabbing apologies.

“I’ll never be able to make it up to you, you deserved absolutely none of my crap, but ple-“

She’s cut off by Keith hugging her. One thing about Keith is that his surprisingly small frame makes him great for hugging. He almost seems delicate like this.

His voice wobbles when he speaks, which drives a stake through Allura’s heart.

“It’s alright. I just missed my alien twin bestie. You’ve already done so much more for me than you think.”

Lance has clearly gotten to him, but Allura ignores that. She’s just happy to have her friend back.

(His weird habit of mimicking other people’s behaviors just comes was part of him.)

————————-

I think platonic love is SO important.

Side note: Someone said the word delicate to my art teacher today, and THIS QUEEN starts singing the song, and agh I started singing it too, and I love her so much, she SLAYS.

[yourunhingedgirlfriend]

Disclaimer: All info posted here comes from their respective creator itself so yes, its legit and not just part of my imagination 💯

Interview Rules:

The interviewer can only ask 10 questions.

The interviewer cannot force an answer out of anyone.

The participant has the right not to elaborate their answer.

CW: Long post ahead / Interviewer being a Ketamine simp / Gavin's surprise cameo

Interviewer: Hi Guys! I hope you're doing well today. Thank you for participating on this social experi- *coughs* interview. Btw, you can call me CC, I'm your interrogator today sent by your beloved MC, so please cooperate :) Are we ready? Lets start:

Question No 1: Aside for being a yandere, whats your dream job/profession?

❤️ Casanova: I wanted to be a chef for the longest time, but i’m happy with my job as an organ harvester!

🕊️ Krow: I-I actually like m-my job as a f-forensics cleaner but... I-I'd love to b-be a stay at home s-spouse a-and just do a-art.

🔪 Ezra: I actually really enjoy my current job. I've had it for going on... 7 years now? Almost 8. (Interviewer: Can we ask what your job is? No? Okay. *thumbs up* bish i value my life more)

🔥 Harper: Hmm, if I had to pick any kind of job, maybe a pyrotechnic?

💐 Keith: To become a plant biologist.

🎮 Tenebris: Be a musician.

🖥️ Virgil: My dream profession is to be Game Developer, I enjoy video games and I have always wanted to make a game for others to enjoy, and so that’s why I’m taking classes of game development.

🎤 Adam: I already have my dream job. Although, I did often think about becoming a vet as a kid. Sometimes I wonder how life would've turned out had I pursued that career instead of singing.

🐕 Henry: I’m not sure! I’ll probably do whatever Buttercup ends up doing!

Interviewer: Atleast some of you love their job *sigh* Me? I just want to be a cat, no work, just meow meow *defeated sigh* Back to the topic at hand:

Question No 2: If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (Vacation or permanently)

❤️ Casanova: Barcelona, that’s where i was born and it’s really pretty there

🕊️ Krow: Ah! I-India! I-I'm Indian but... I-I actually don't know m-much about my heritage. I... w-wanna go s-see the land of m-my culture. W-with Dove too o-of course!

🔪 Ezra: Hmm... Anywhere with my Sugarsnap? If that's not too cheesy I suppose. But outside of that I'd like to visit Blaire's extended family in Vietnam.

🔥 Harper: I’m definitely more a big city kind of guy, so I’m pretty happy living where I am… To visit though? Hmm… Somewhere with some snowy mountains maybe, do some snowboarding, chill by a fire with some hot cocoa? Yeah, that sounds nice..

💐 Keith: It will be Kristenbosh National Botanical Garden.

🎮 Tenebris: My old home probably.

🖥️ Virgil: I’ve always wanted to go Iceland for vacation

🎤 Adam: As long as I'm by your (MC) side, it doesn't matter where I'm at~

🐕 Henry: Anywhere where Buttercup is good with me! But if we could both go somewhere, Disneyland might be fun!

Interviewer: So if MC just dissapear out of nowhere, thats the list of places where we can found them? Hmm ..

Question No 3: Song that you will sing to MC if given a chance.

❤️ Casanova: baby - eslabon armado

🕊️ Krow: Uhhh... uhhh... I-I guess... T-Together Forever would be c-cute...

🔪 Ezra: A few different songs, most notably... We'll never have sex by Leith Ross, Let you break my heart again by Laufey & Philharmonia or Habits by Genevieve Stokes. I just want sugar to know I want them for more than... anything. I love their heart and soul, it's not physical for me. Though I do find them incredibly attractive.

🔥 Harper: Actually sing myself?... Umm.. Maybe either Day 1 or No Song Without You, both by Honne?

💐 Keith: Can't Help Falling in Love

🎮 Tenebris: Trust by 7 Seconds

🖥️ Virgil: Rises the Moon, it’s a comfort song of mine, my mum sings this to me and my younger siblings when we were little, by then whenever my mother is busy, I sing the song to my siblings. And Hopefully, I can sing it to my beloved, as a way to help them if they need comfort.

🎤 Adam: *fidgeting because he's written one song in particular that he'd love for MC to hear but is worried that MC will wind up hating it*

🐕 Henry: The Promise by When in Rome! It’s our song!

Interviewer: *secretly adding all the songs to their playlist*

Question No 4: Name one food that you will never ever eat.

❤️ Casanova: Mac and cheese, i fucking hate mac and cheese.

🕊️ Krow: I-I'm never... eating b-bland... white people c-cooking EVER a-again.

🔪 Ezra: Beans on toast. I just don't particularly like beans. Or sweet potatoes.

🔥 Harper: Ugh… Raisins

💐 Keith: Rabbit meat.

🎮 Tenebris: Anything with bugs.

🖥️ Virgil: Anything fish related, I do not like fish, but if someone ever served me, I would just suck it up and eat.

🎤 Adam: *doing 5 stages of disgusted face known to humankind* Anything from Saffrons freezer. (Interviewer: Time to raid Saffron's freezer hehehe)

🐕 Henry: I can’t bring myself to eat cauliflower. It's so bland!

Interviewer: *proceed to eat Mac & Cheese to spite Nova* I dont trust people who hates Mac & Cheese.

Question No 5: This would be a little bit of personal, so you have a choice not to answer this okay? Whats your most treasured possession?

❤️ Casanova: Mi vida’s house key, of course! it’s a little mangled bc i keep chewing on it though.

🕊️ Krow: Oh... w-well... t-this pendant is... p-precious but... well... I-I actually don't have m-many possessions. S-so... everything I have has m-meaning. (Interviewer: I can be your possession Krow)

🔪 Ezra: Eliana gave me a tie she made back in elementary school. Neither of our dads are in the picture so she gave it to me instead. I still wear it to work sometimes. (Interviewer: *starts crying bc this answer is so precious*)

🔥 Harper: This lighter here, we have a bit of history together~

💐 Keith: A bonsai tree I got from my father and I had for 7 years.

🎮 Tenebris: My guitar.

🖥️ Virgil: My necklace, it’s a gift from my dad.

🎤 Adam: You (MC). But if we're talking about an item...*he tugs on his earring*

🐕 Henry: A picture / polaroid of me + Buttercup as kids! (though, I do have more updated ones too…)

Interviewer: I am suprised no one answered MC's nose hair or whatever. Hmm.. Im not fully convinced but I will trust you on this one.

Question No 6: Nosy ask, whats your phone wallpaper right now?

❤️ Casanova: a photo of mi vida in the middle of taking their meds!

🕊️ Krow: D-Dove let us t-take a selfie! I-it's so cute aaaa--

🔪 Ezra: I managed to snap a photo of Sugar and Ellie cuddled up on the couch after a movie night once. I've never before felt so much love swelling in my chest. It almost hurt.

🔥 Harper: *proudly present his phone* 1st is my lockscreen and 2nd is my Homescreen. I took it myself..

💐 Keith: A pair of white lilies (Why is this the most normal answer on this whole interview?)

🎮 Tenebris: We share the same phone, so a pair of white lillies also.

🖥️ Virgil: Pixel art of my beloved Galaxy and my puppy Scott, aren’t they so cute in pixel form? (Interviewer: Scotty baby *coos at the phone* )

🎤 Adam: My home screen is of YOU (MC). My lock screen is of a stray kitten I found on my way to the studio that Ethans younger brother ended up taking in. (Interviewer: Do you have any other pics of the kitten? *cat lady vibes intensifies*)

🐕 Henry: A picture of Buttercup sleeping! How’d I get it? (Note: Its in a modern Au bc mobile phone with camera is not yet invented on Henry's time)

Interviewer: MC supremacy yass! If only some surgeon named Ketamine Yetrovzski use my photo as his wallpaper *coughs* (Ketamine shouting "NO" can be heard in the background but still here supporting the interviewer, this fuckin tsundere)

Question No 7: If you could appear in any popular movie/anime/book, which one would you choose?

❤️ Casanova: hmm, i would say the hp lovecraft series! hate the guy but i’m a major monster fucker

🕊️ Krow: Umm... I... I-I wanna be in a Jane A-Austen book. As a p-protagonist. N-no matter what... t-they marry happily in t-the end.

🔪 Ezra: Well... I guess... I'm not sure. I've never really thought about it. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I can't imagine my life without Eliana and I don't want to be anywhere without my sugarcube.

🔥 Harper: Ah.. thats a hard one.. If I get powers n shit and I’m not just a normal person maybe Jujutsu Kaisen?... Tbh I play more games than I do watch or read anything haha..

💐 Keith: Sherlock Holmes, because solving murder cases looks like fun. So does creating the perfect murder. *a sudden smoke appear near Keith for dramatic effect*

🎮 Tenebris: Inuyasha. I really want a Kagome. (Interviewer putting their Kagome costume)

🖥️ Virgil: Hmmmm that’s a tough one… Haha I couldn’t think of anything right now.

🎤 Adam: Death note, the anime. I think I could do a lot better with that notebook than light Yagami did. (Hermit, the creator, rolls their eyes behind the scenes and Adam glaring daggers to Hermit)

🐕 Henry: The Princess Bride! That movie is practically about me + Buttercup.

Interviewer: Im with Harper on this one. JJK so I cant prevent Nanami and Nobara Shibuya Arc huhuhu.

Question No 8 : What are some habits you have? Any strange ones?

❤️ Casanova: I tend to scratch at my braces when i’m trying to focus, often i’d end up chewing on my fingers.

🕊️ Krow: Uhh.... I... bite my h-hands... a lot. It's... a comfort t-thing. S-sometimes my forearms too. I-I guess I also make the same expression a-as to what I'm d-drawing.

🔪 Ezra: When eating food like burgers or sandwiches I eat around the edge and then eat the center last. Um... I also tend to rub things with my fingertips when I don't know what to do with my hands. I'm almost always touching my nails absent-mindedly.

🔥 Harper: I have a habit of scratching my fingertips, especially when I’m nervous… Its kinda a bad habit, sometimes I scratch em a little raw.

💐 Keith: Buttoning and unbuttoning my shirt sleeve when Im bored or nervous.

🎮 Tenebris: Leaving my things all over the bed

🖥️ Virgil: Hmmmm, whenever I play a video game that has levels right? And I messed up one thing, I restart the level. Don’t know why, I just like to go through the levels smoothly. It’s pretty frustrating if you ask me ahaha

🎤 Adam: I don't have any strange habits. I'm just a normal guy. (Someone shouts LIAR and its not Hermit, i swear. Or maybe?)

🐕 Henry: Hmmm…I have really bad sleeping habits if I’m being honest! I’m lucky if I can get 3 hours of sleep at night. As for strange ones, nope, I’m perfectly normal! (now the interviewer is also shouting LIAR)

Interviewer: That was the biggest lie Ive ever heard in my entire life Henry. *headache incoming* No one is normal here. Im not even normal smh.

Question No 9: This question was submitted by Gavin Hyeon of Camp Willlow Peak. Its time to test your flirting skill, give me one pick up line that you will probably use when flirting with MC. Gavin said he is watching you right now.

❤️ Casanova: if you were a heart i’d eat you out!

🕊️ Krow: N-no wonder i-it's overcast t-today. All t-the colors are in y-your eyes.

🔪 Ezra: Sometimes I wonder what good deed I did to deserve such a perfect soul like you to enter my life.

🔥 Harper: Pickup lines really aren’t my thing… Gavin did write down this one for me once though… Lets see it’s here somewhere…” *digs through his pockets and pulls out a piece of scrap paper* “Here it is… ‘Hey baby… You got any Italian in you?.. No?... Do you want some?’ …… I don’t get it 😐 *Gavin cheering in the background*

💐 Keith: Im really not a fan of pickup lines, but okay, "You're sweet enough to give me diabetes".

🎮 Tenebris: Tie your shoelaces, I don't want you falling for someone else!" (Legend says that until now, Tenebris is still waiting for MC to wear shoelaces and for them to be untied.)

🖥️ Virgil: Hmmm let me go grab my telescope, so I can admire the beautiful star.

🎤 Adam: *combusts into one giant human blush* (Hermit doing a voice over: He can only flirt on the fly. If he has to think his actions through he'll get self conscious and overheat from overthinking it)

🐕 Henry: If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together!

Interviewer: *currently helping Gavin to write his will of testament before he becomes Gavin Flavored Toasted Marshmallow, recipe by Harper*

Question No 10: This would be the last question, and I want to thank you again for giving me a chance to interview you. Before we end this, do you have anything you want to say to the people reading this?

❤️ Casanova: if you ever need fresh organs without having to do it yourself contact valentine’s anatomy distribution! we have a wide selection available, and if you’re a fellow yandere homie you get a discount!

🕊️ Krow: Uhh, well? I-I guess... t-thank you for... f-finding me interesting.

🔪 Ezra: Not particularly. I'm not sure why Lilith arranged the interview but I don't mind answering questions. I should probably head back into work soon though... Oh, I will say this. Thank you for coming into my life Sugar, I didn't think I could love someone like I love you.

🔥 Harper: .. Unshrimp your fucking backs, love you~

💐 Keith: Um, hello. I hope my answers weren't too boring.

🎮 Tenebris: No? I don't know 'em.

🖥️ Virgil: Hello everyone, I hope all of you have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night, make sure to take care of yourselves or else I will if you don’t mind hehe~

🎤 Adam: Is...YOU (MC) reading this? Because if you are, I hope to see you again really soon~

🐕 Henry: You guys are kinda weird for wanting an interview! I’m not quite sure what else to say though!

Interviewer: And that would be all. Thank you to our lovely guests for joining us today. And here is the bribe. List of all 2d characters MC currently simping for. Do what you want with that info.

Interviewer: Hi Hi guys! Again, CC here. Thank you again for entertaining this interview. To end this, may we ask for a few advices you can give for those aspiring artist out there or those who want to create their own vn.

NOVA belongs to @cannibalsweetheart : if you’re starting a project don’t feel unmotivated if you don’t get a lot of traction in the first few weeks, building a platform takes time, but soon enough you’ll gain an audience! (Demo link here)

Krow belongs to @thekrows-nest : While I don't have immediate plans for a VN (despite folks begging for it), for artist stuff, keep experimenting and trying out things. Don't be afraid to go to friends for advice. (:

Ezra belongs to @restartheartvn : lshdfksdfhj okay for my answer! My advice? Don't make something for other people. Make what YOU want to see. Make something that YOU are interested in. If you like... make something that you don't love and enjoy making people can tell. It doesn't come off as genuine and you'll burn out that way. Don't think about numbers or anything like that. Make stuff because it makes you happy. I make Restart Heart because I love my little passion project. I love it so much I get my nails done to match my game and spend most of the day thinking about it. I would still be making Restart Heart if no one played. Make something that you would want to make even if no one saw. Even if you were the only person in the world who loves it, make it because it brings you happiness. Sorry if that's cheesy or like super standard but it's genuine. (Demo link here)

Harper belongs to @campwillowpeak : Hmmm, other than the good ol’ practice practice practice?…Try and remember to have fun yeah? Don’t focus on numbers, yeah everyone wants more eyes on their work, thats normal, but if you focus only on how big you are you’re gonna burn out and get discouraged, stuff like that takes time, consistency, and a little bit of luck. In the meantime just have fun and make friends! Besides, people can tell if you’re trying to force it, an audience’ll more often stay if they can tell you’re legitimately having fun! And never just look at where you are now… Look at how far you’ve come from too!~

Keith & Tenebris belongs to @dualityvn : Make sure you set realistic goals for yourself. Taking on too many tasks and planning a project that is bigger than what you can currently manage can be your downfall. Stay positive and always create the things you yourself love! (Demo link here)

Virgil belongs to @wouldyoustayvn : Take your time! There’s no need to rush to make the game quickly! Make sure to take breaks!))

Adam belongs to @unknownhermit : Please get a good chair. It'll help in the long run when you're often crouched over your desk for hours on end. Don't be like me who hovers over my desk like a hermit crab shell.😅 Second thing is to just have fun creating and don't worry about what others think! I used to obsessively worry if my work was good enough and wound up never releasing it because I got self conscious. It wasn't until YOU and HIM that I actually had fun with what I was doing and I think that translated into my work. Create to create for yourself. Don't worry about what anyone else thinks because it's important to create what you love and are passionate about. And I'm sure a lot of us would love to see what sorts of things you'll come up with. 💙 (Demo link here)

Henry belongs to @homecomingvn : Ahh, I’m a really bad person to ask for advice if I’m being honest! I guess all I can really say is that no matter how silly you think your idea is, there will be an audience for it! It can be scary to put yourself out there, but honestly, this community is so incredibly supportive + I’ve met some amazing people here! Also, I’d recommend keeping various docs about your project! It’s nice to have it all in one (or 3 + a google slides in my case) place so you can have a clear idea about your wip + its characters. And lastly, be prepared for people to be horny! ^^ (okay, you dont have to call me out >…< will still send horny ask bc someone needs to 😙)

Just a little self indulgent ramblings. I dont know if anyone already know about this game, but one of my moots recommended this, its DONT LOOK VN and I tell you, its so good. The story premise, the creepy atmosphere and the voice acting are all on point. They have on going Kickstarter and they only have 8 days left to reach the goal. This is my way of helping since im unable to pledge bc the banks here in the country im currently residing are shitty and they keep declining, so please if you have means to support, please do. Lets help them to reach their goals.

Here is the link of the demo also and their socials:

Kickstarter | Demo | Twitter | Tumblr

DO IT FOR CHESTER!!

[maxwell-grant]

So yesterday was my birthday and I invited a friend over to watch some movies we’d been each putting off. He showed me They Live, which I’d somehow never seen, for the first time, and I repaid the favor by breaking his brain with Speed Racer and letting him see how everyone ever was 100% wrong about that movie at release and it is in fact the best thing ever, but in regards to They Live:

I expected a good time and had a really great one. I knew about it’s central alien allegory, and how it’s been co-opted by anti-semitic memes and right-wingers who think they’re being cute. I knew it inspired dialogue in Duke Nukem, I knew it was a John Carpenter film starring Roddy Piper with Keith David in it, and that was it. I was blissfully unaware of everything else, including the fact that it somehow winds up being a spiritual successor of “The Challenge of the Beyond”, the pulp writer round robin exercise nowadays most famous for it’s H.P Lovecraft - Robert E.Howard parts.

There’s a post on it that floats around regularly and I’ll link here for better explanation, but in short: Lovecraft’s section of this story had the protagonist George faint from terror constantly and go mad after turning into a giant alien centipede, which was followed by Robert E.Howard immediately retconning said madness in his opening line and having the character embrace his new life as a horrid centipede beast in a new planet and go on a conquering rampage of “titanic adventure” as George the Centipede Barbarian. I bring up George the Centipede Barbarian not because it’s funny, but because They Live intentionally pulled off a very similar kind of brutal tonal dissonance.

They Live is very comparable to The Thing in the sense that it is a 50s concept told through 80s filmmaking and distorted accordingly, to the extent that the black and white parts are not just colored differently, but shot differently from the rest of the film in a way that’s far more reminiscent of 50s horror films. Our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy who lives in a struggling urban landscape with mysteries and horrors he never quite understood but continue to plague him and those around him, and he has a moment of truth when he puts on magical sunglasses and finds out that he’s been living in a Twilight Zone episode the whole time, and so has everyone. The black and white allegorical terrors won and have been running everything all along, and that is the point the episode should end with our protagonist horrified and broken, “wouldn’t that be fucked up / doesn’t this remind you of something / these horrors are real” message conveyed, episode over.

Except our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy, so instead of surrendering to the horrors after finding out everything is a monstrous lie, he fights back with a shotgun and a bag of one-liners. Dude just immediately, like not even 10 minutes after he first puts on the glasses, starts blasting alien cops and bankers and spaceships. I really did not think that “bubblegum” one-liner happened that early in the movie. This dissonance would have been wonderful regardless but it helps that it’s done so intentionally.

I really didn’t expect that the movie was this 100% completely blatantly unsubtle about the true nature of the alien ghouls as bloodsucking capitalists. It’s not some veiled allegory that can be left to interpretation, the movie tells you repeteadly and explicitly what it is about. The film tells you that the aliens are weaponizing communist paranoia to gain control over cops, preceding a line “We'll do anything to be rich” and then a description of them as “They are free enterprisers. Earth is just another developing planet, their third world” is actual dialogue from the film and that’s just before we learn the aliens all wear expensive watches, that most of the cops going around brutally gunning down the resistance are humans who sold out, and get scenes of the aliens and humans standing around in suits congratulating each other on profit margins. I don’t meant this as an insult but it’s frankly cartoonish in how unsubtle it is, it’s insulting that John Carpenter even had to set the record straight with Yes This Was About Capitalism and Reagan and Yuppie Bloodsuckers You Stupid Fucks like the movie isn’t hammering the point constantly.

If you haven’t watched it, did anyone ever tell you that the inciting incident of the movie is the protagonist being radicalized by police brutality? Yeah, funny, nobody ever talks about what happens in the movie before George puts on the sunglasses. The first 20 or so minutes are about the protagonist, George Nada, arriving in the city and struggling to find a job or place to stay and being offered one by Keith David’s character Frank, who takes him to a homeless community. They have a handful of dialogues together where Frank repeteadly expresses a cynical viewpoint towards life under You-Know-What, over opportunities turning into traps and steel mills giving themselves raises by screwing workers over, and George brushes him off stating he still believes in America, he still believes in getting a fair shot.

George is quickly and immediately reduced to horrified bystander as the police storms his community and destroys their church and goes around beating up them up and evicting tents by bulldozer, while George runs around trying to help and save at least one of them. The next time we see him, he puts on the sunglasses and learns the awful truth and starts his rampage (framed in no uncertain terms as an act of revolution) by doing, what else, shooting cops. Or, well, aliens who approach him as cops and tell him that, now that he sees them, they can work out a deal to profit together if he just goes quietly. The movie makes it as obvious as it could possibly make it.

So yeah, watch They Live, it’s Duke Nukem vs The Twilight Zone’s Episode on Capitalism (with Extended “Guys Being Dudes” Action, I’m glad I didn’t know about that alleyway fight scene beforehand). Also watch Speed Racer, it’s glorious, and it has the exact same villains. Had a really great time yesterday with both.

[sunshinediaz]

fuck it friday 🫧

i don't have anything to put the fuck in fuck it friday (which, nuts, but i'm so stoked because i'm writing stuff that's not porn for once) but i do have eddie and chim being silly goofy brothers so!!! enjoy!!!

Chim makes a noise and grabs a ten pound bag of gummy bears instead. “What makes you think it’s a good idea?”  Eddie shrugs, wondering if keeping the gummy bears and having a handful at the station when he wakes up from a nap is worth receiving Bobby’s patented disappointed look. “Maybe it’s not a good idea, but I have to do something,” he replies, deciding that, yes, the gummy bear are so worth it. “She’s mean to me, Chim.”  “You sound like Jee.”  Eddie flaps his hand at Chim and turns the corner into another aisle. “You’re so funny, man.” He picks through the several different kinds of flour, searching for the kind Bobby’s particular about. “She singles me out and makes me look bad in front of my neighbors. I haven’t even met any of them.” “Maybe they’re scared of you. Have you thought of that? You keep odd hours, your truck is big, and you listen to country music. ”   “I listen to good country music, you jackass.”  And he does. He’ll be damned if anybody associates him with Jason Aldean—fuck that dude, fuck his little buddies, and fuck all they stand for. Every single one of them. In the words of Kris Kristofferson, a legend—people like Toby Keith and his alt-right patriotism have done to country music what pantyhose did to fingerfucking.  (Oh, God. Is that Eddie’s Roman Empire? Chris is going to have a heyday.)  “Semantics.”  “I’ll show—” he starts, stops, takes a deep breath to calm down. “The next time you walk in front of this cart, I’m fucking up your heels.” He crosses his chest.  “See? That’s what I’m talking about. You’re weird.”  Eddie swerves the cart toward Chim, loud and rickety. “Swear on my life, Chim.” Chim dances out of the way. “You should probably swear on something else, pal,” he says, laughing loudly when Eddie veers the cart his way again. They make a commotion, gathering the attention of a few others down the aisle, and sheepishly apologize. “Have you talked with Buck about it?”  “No,” Eddie replies, sighing. He grabs a few canisters of unsweetened cocoa, adding it on top of Chim’s addition of sugar free pudding. “It kinda slipped my mind.” 

i was tagged by @callaplums, @honestlydarkprincess, @hippolotamus, @jesuisici33, @try-set-me-on-fire, @exhuastedpigeon, @wikiangela, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @callmenewbie, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @giddyupbuck, @thewolvesof1998, and @daffi-990 mwah 🫶🏼

it's late so i'm only tagging @eddiediaztho because i sent britt a lil bit of this scene last night and she was excited for it, which wow, and i need her to see it so she can gush praise at me BUT PLEASE everybody consider yourself tagged by me i'm so fuckin serious mwah