#this one took a few days

[xmrnothingx]

Yvraine, Emissary of the Ynnead from Warhammer 40K

Wanted to draw Yvraine after I found art of her while I've been getting into Warhammer 40k. I personally love the aesthetics of the Eldar, even if conceptually they are just space elves (I mean I also love Orks and they're on the same boat)

[neoncityrain]

New page on We, Vee

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[arielluva]

let's play maiden dissection!

[ruvigapo]

Run boy run!! The sex monsters eat salmon!!

In which i arrive Fashionably Late to the fishssek party

[jamiethebeeart]

Lineart by @ovytia-art which was such a blast to color - I love the entire vibe of all of them hanging out together so much @green-with-envy-phandom-event

[welcometogrouchland]

♫ I do what I want/Crying in the bleachers and I said it was fun/I don't need anything from anyone ♫

(ID in Alt) you guys ever think about your own posts and get upset?? Anyway Damian Wayne I love you I'm so sorry your life is like that

[zivazivc]

Hiii!! Ufff I don't know how to tell you that I love your take on Floyd. like some bad bad life decisions were taken (THAT SO!!! INTERESTING FOR HIM). Do you think he ever feels ashamed of himself when he looks at Branch's eyes, like "shit, this guy really believes in me" or "he doesn't even know everything I have done"? Like he has some really BIG "Love me Less by Max" vibes

They all really believe in his goodness which is worse

And OH he definitely feels so much shame and regret. I think a big part of why he fell as hard as he did was because he finally didn't have to be his brothers' mediator, and I guess at one point he forgot that he still needed to be the voice of reason for himself. His new band mates encouraging his reckless behavior didn't help. Honestly I personally think young Floyd was a very naive kid and very dependent on his older brothers but his strong empathy gave them all the impression that he was much more mature and independent than he really was...

So yeah... you can imagine that constantly partying, doing drugs and sleeping around wears someone down after a few years. I think Floyd also went gray like Branch (not for as long tho) and he broke up with the band wanting to go home badly, but he was also ashamed of showing his face after a number of years as a gray drug addict, so he kind of just ended up alone...

If we're sharing songs, I have to show you this one by Linkin Park because I think Floyd wrote it for Branch (and the rest of his family (and some parts also addressing himself)) while he was at that desperate and lonely period because I am also extremely emo

[mipexch]

comic about v2 and the goal they'll never fully reach alongside a dissatisfying conclusion. intimate rivalry and all (alternative ending comic. V1 dies instead of V2 during 4-4. V2 is narrating. V1 is dead.)

[kizzer55555]

Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

[ruporas]

asking and receiving (bonus below readmore)

[ID: A black and white, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood. In the first panel is a close up of Wolfwood's mouth as he says, "Vash". Accompanying it is a close up shot of Vash's eye, widen and cheeks flushed. Wolfwood presses a knee against the open space between Vash's legs and says, "Tell me everything you want from me." Wolfwood's face is equally as flushed. He continues to say, "I'll give it to you. Everything." As he talks, a wide shot shows the both of them in white space. Vash is sitting, leaning a little back with both hands pressed against the surface he's sitting on. Wolfwood is in his white dress shirt, stripped of the blazer. He's still leaning in with one knee in between Vash's spread legs, his right hand touching Vash's lips and his left hand behind his back.

The shot closes in on Vash's mouth and Wolfwood's hand against it, pressing down on the lower lip as he says, "You have to ask though. Go on." His hand moves down to Vash's chin, gently holding it. With a shy and uncertain expression, Vash hesitantly asks, "Um... K... Kiss... Please?" Wolfwood, without wasting a second, leans in and kisses him and indulges by pressing deeper, eliciting a small noise of surprise from Vash.

Wolfwood moves away from Vash first and with a smile, asks, "What else?" Vash tugs on Wolfwood's left sleeve, wordlessly budging Wolfwood to give him his hand that was still behind his back. In the next panel, Vash utters, "Hold me..?" He's holding Wolfwood's left hand with his own while his right hand is reaching for his waist. Wolfwood complies, moving his left hand to Vash's shoulder and his right hand continues to touch Vash's cheek. Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"

More comfortable now, Vash leans in to kiss Wolfwood. Wolfwood catches him immediately, pressing his thumb against Vash's lips to stop him before demanding, "Hey. Ask." Vash looks back in surprise and Wolfwood meets his eye with a quiet, insistent look. They're quiet for a moment before Vash leans in again and curtly requests, "Kiss. Me." Wolfwood says "Good", smiling as he lifts his hand away, and meets Vash's lips. In the next shot, Wolfwood had adjusted his position, sitting on Vash's thigh. The hand that was once on Vash's cheek has moved its way to Vash's nape, pushing away the collar of his jacket with his pinky. His other hand continues to grip on Vash's shoulder. Still kissing, Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"

In the next shot, Vash is starting to turn, moving Wolfwood with him. Vash asks, "Let me on top of you?" Wolfwood says, "Mhm" before asking again, "What else?" The next panel shows a close look of Vash's face. He's looking down, flushed and shy just as he had been at the beginning, but now, more decisive. Vash asks, "Wolfwood... Let me have you..?" A panel of Wolfwood taking Vash's hand into his, pulling it towards his chest. The next panel shows Wolfwood lying down where Vash had laid him. Vash's hand is on Wolfwood's chest, covering the cross of his rosary while Wolfwood's hand lingers against his, loosely pressing Vash's hand in place. He looks up at Vash with a shy smile of his own, flushed cheeks. He says, "All yours."

A panel shows a close up of Vash's tender gaze before he leans down to be closer to Wolfwood. The final shot is a front view of their positions, Vash's face turned away from the viewer; Vash is leaning over Wolfwood who's lying down with his right leg draped over Vash's legs. Wolfwood's left hand holds onto Vash's left arm. With finality, Vash says, "...Mine." End ID]

[ID: A follow up bonus comic in a looser, sketchier style. They're laying comfortably in bed when Vash asks, "What was that earlier?" referecing to the start of the previous comic. Wolfwood glances away and says, "To get you used to it. Asking. And getting what you ask for. Since you're alwasy hesitant about it." Vash's eyes widen, tight lipped. Wolfwood continues, "Knowing you, it'll be a tough habit to break..." When he says this, Vash can't help but laugh, unable to deny it. Wolfwood slowly brings a hand to Vash's cheek and continues to say, "So I'll keep trying -- whatever ways I can... to get it through your thick skull." Vash takes Wolfwood's hand with his, kissing the the palm gently. Wolfwood's eyes soften and holding onto Vash's cheek, he leans in to try for a kiss. Vash says, "Hey..." before stopping Wolfwood's lips with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face, "Ask." Wolfwood's embarrassed and with little irritation, asks, "Really?" Vash smiles, saying, "You're in need of practice too." They pause for a moment, Wolfwood looking contemplatively, before he's leaning in again, asking, "May I please kiss you?" Vash looks him in the eyes and says, "Yes." The comic ends with a "chu", indicating an off-panel kiss. End ID]

[hexadopamine]

just a lineless sketch dump :P

[strangethlngs]

── ❀⋆.ೃ࿔ somebody told me | steve harrington x fem!reader

✧ summary: [based on the song somebody told me by the killers] after breaking up with steve because of impending freshman year of college, both you and steve are haunted by what could have been. in an attempt to cope with the swirling emotions, you pursue a sexual relationship with eddie munson. halloween rolls around, and eddie invites you to a party. your blood runs cold in the midst of sweaty bodies when none other than steve harrington finds you in the crowd.

pre & post s3 steve harrington x fem!reader x slight fwb!eddie munson | angst, very slight smut vibes if you squint | no use of y/n

✧ word count: 4.8k

✧ warnings: MDNI! no full smut but talks of sex and sexual touching/dancing, use of marijuana, cigarettes, and alcohol, steve is an asshole, college struggles | if there is anything that i missed that should be listed, please let me know

✧ a note from s: hi everyone !! i listened to this song for the first time in a while the other day and immediately pictured this storyline and had to write it. this is my first ever fic on this account / first time writing for steve so please be gentle. i also want to put a disclaimer out there that don't write for eddie normally, but i did enjoy writing him in this fic so if everyone enjoys my eddie writing too i might add him to my list of those i write for. sidenote: as i was writing the party scene i couldn't get the image of steve harrington as jacob elordi in the club scene of saltburn out of my brain so enjoy that mental image xoxoxoxox

i'm so nervous to post this so plz lmk your thoughts & plz reblog/like/share to support my writing! enjoy <3

You gently pick at a loose thread on the quilt draped over Steve’s bed. You feel his eyes boring into your head, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him and meet his eyes. You know they’re sad. Pleading. You can’t bring yourself to face it.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I really am… I just-“ you don’t know how to finish the sentence. You just what? You want to go into college single, why was that so hard to get out? It’s not like you and Steve had dated for years. You’d been casually together, only sporting the girlfriend label for the past 4 months. So why was this so hard? Had you known Steve wasn’t going to be able to get into the college you were going to, or most colleges for that matter, you wouldn’t have gotten as involved with him as you did. You never wanted to hurt him.

“You just what?” Steve prodded, not moving from where he sat, across from you on his bed.

“I don’t know Steve,” you struggle to get out, words failing you severely.

“I think you do. Just say it. At least give me the decency of a reason why you’re… dumping me.”

“I just think… when I leave in the fall,” you swallow, your voice pathetically getting smaller. “I should be single.”

He is silent for a moment.

“If this is a distance thing, we can just do long distance. We can make it work. I know plenty of people who were able to do that. I’m sure my manager at Scoops and I can work out a work schedule that leaves my weekends open. And we can alternate weekends to visit, or… or something,” he rambles on, shaking his head as if the idea of breaking up was not acceptable in his mind.

Maybe because, to him, it wasn’t acceptable. You were his dream girl. Even after a few months, you had him wrapped around your finger. He would walk through a wall of fire if you were on the other side. He hadn’t felt anything close to this since Nancy Wheeler. And you were nothing like Nancy Wheeler. And that’s one of his favorite things about you. But you hadn’t realized how deep his feelings for you ran, and you didn’t realize how deep leaving him would cut. It wasn’t easy for you either, sure, but at least you had a freshman year to look forward too. What did Steve have? Slinging ice cream? That insecurity of not being able to experience college at all was gnawing at him more than he’d let on to you.

“I just think this will be easiest for both of us in the long run… and who knows, maybe I’ll end up back in Hawkins after I graduate, or maybe in a few years you’ll be able to make it to college,” You offer, trying to be as gentle as possible. You stand up, walking to his desk to pick up your backpack.

Once you slip it on, you turn and finally make eye contact for just a moment, before he makes a noise between a scoff and a sniffle and breaks the eye contact, looking out his window. The vein in his neck twitches. You can tell something you said just set him off.

“You mean it will be easier for you.”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

He shakes his head and lets out a sigh, exasperated. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slaps his palms on his knees.

“You know what… go and have fun at college. Go have fun and be single, while I stay here and make ice cream sundaes. That’s all I’m good for, right?” he sneers bitterly, his tone shifting from the soft pleading he just tried to offer moments ago.

You’re stunned and frozen to your spot next to his desk, hands gripping the straps of your backpack. “Excuse me?”

“I just don’t understand how you don’t want to even try to make this work. And I can only think of one reason you are refusing to try.”

You ignore the last bit, not even wanting to go there. “Steve, I just don’t think I have the mental capacity to maintain something between us. I worry I’d end up neglecting this relationship,” You really are trying to be a peacemaker here, but you feel Steve heating up, frustrated that his attempts to rectify this relationship were futile. Truth is, you don’t want to be single to date around. College was daunting as it is, and you wanted your time to be free to dive into your studies and figure out your place in this world. That, along with keeping up somewhat of a social life in a new big city far from the one boy you’ve ever actually liked would be hard enough.

“No,” He starts, shaking his head. “I think you want to be able to go out to parties and bars and flirt with and date whomever you’d like, right?” He spits, standing from his bed and folding his arms across his chest.

“Wow…” you slowly nod. You know he’s projecting, but damn if it didn’t hurt to hear your boyfriend you’d really started to fall in love with say. “If… if that’s what you think of me, I’m just glad I did this now.” You turn to leave before either of you say things you don’t mean, but Steve beats you to the punch.

“If that’s not the truth, why wouldn’t you at least give it a chance? You’re leaving me no choice but to believe that it’s the truth,” He saunters close to you. Angry Steve is not someone you are fond of. Sure, you had a huge crush on Steve junior year when he donned his iconic, yet asshole-ish King Steve persona. But you hated being in King Steve’s line of fire, just like you were right now. He’d grown and changed from those days, but if you got him upset enough, he would rear his ugly head. He stopped right in front of you, reaching around you to the door to exit his room. He gave you a look up and down you can only describe as pure disgust and muttered close to your face, “have fun with those college boys.”

You let out an airy laugh, his condescending words and tone sending you over the edge. You turn and fiercely walk to the staircase and stop at the edge. You know it’s a low blow. You know it’s hitting him where it hurts. But you’re so mad, you don’t recognize the man you’d gotten to know for the past few months. You spit out the sentence without thinking twice.

“I know you couldn’t possibly understand what I’m feeling because you couldn’t get into any colleges, but it’s not my fault you slacked off and didn’t get the grades. Don’t be bitter at me because I’m leaving in the fall and you’re not.”

You don’t have time to see his hurt reaction before you turn on your heel and race down the stairs and out the front door. As soon as the words left your lips you felt guilty. He’d been so insecure with his college application troubles and you used it against him. But it was over. You slide into your car and quickly speed down the road. You take a shaky breath in and out as you drive, trying to put Steve in the back of your mind and bring college preparation thoughts to the forefront of your focus.

✧

You push through the front door of your dorm building, heaving your heavy backpack through the long hall. Your eyes ached from reading your textbook for hours to cram in a last-minute study session for your exam tomorrow. You were teetering on a failing grade; you just knew it. This class in particular, but all your classes your first semester, were kicking your ass. You couldn’t afford to pay to retake classes. The stress of juggling all these hard classes was bogging you down, and you still didn’t know what you even wanted to major in. It’s not an exaggeration for you to say college was definitely not the exciting, thrilling fun you thought it would be.

When you push your room door open, you’re greeted with the smell of liquor and cheap cigarettes. Neither of these things you were above, by any means, but not on a Tuesday night when you have an exam in the morning. On top of your grades being atrocious, your roommate was downright terrible. Throwing dorm room parties constantly, always up at the worst hours, and messy. So incredibly messy. And the worst part is, she doesn’t even like you. She acted as if you were the one intruding on her.

You push through the group of girls in your way, ignoring the snide remarks, throwing your backpack onto your bed, fishing out your wallet, and immediately removing yourself from the room. You trudge over to the vending machine, hoping for some kind of food before you force yourself to sleep through the inevitably restless night. You grab some candy and turn, nearly bumping into another person. You mutter an apology and step to the side, engrossed in opening the packet of M&M’s.

“Hey you’re one of the girls in room 13 right?” The voice from behind you asks. You turn and see a vaguely familiar girl.

“Yeah,” you respond.

“You got a call at the payphone earlier,” she steps up to the vending machine. “Some guy named Eddie.”

Eddie.

Throughout the awful college experience you’d been enduring, your one saving grace had been Eddie Munson. You thank the girl and nearly race up to the one of the phones down the hall. You shove in some quarters quickly and punch in the all-too-familiar number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?” you hear his voice answer, and heat flushes over you. But not the giddy, lovey-dovey heat you’d had when you and Steve would have your routine nightly chats, back when you were still with him. This was a different heat. Darker, more lustful.

The summer after you’d broken things off with Steve, you found yourself having a harder time moving on than you thought you would. The things you’d said to Steve you knew you didn’t mean. His hurt face swam into view every time you thought about it. It was haunting you, and you’d do anything to forget about it. One of your friends had suggested Eddie, being a drug dealer and all. You couldn’t recall who Eddie was exactly, but you knew he sold things that could take your mind off real life, so you were set. Soon, you found yourself not just picking up weed from him. It became smoking with each other and ordering a pizza, getting to know each other at a surface level, watching stupid movies and laughing at stupid things. You didn’t like him, definitely not in the way you liked Steve. However, you were very attracted to him. So, when he made advances one night you two smoked in his van out at Lover’s Lake, you most definitely weren’t going to stop him. It was just a one-time thing, you’d both agreed. Until he called you a week later. Then it started to happen more often. When you left for college, you both expected things would fizzle out. Oh well, you’d had your fun rebound.

Though, on a particular Friday you were getting weighed down by the toll college was taking on you, you found yourself calling him from your dorm, asking if he was free that night. Phone calls between you and Eddie started to become more frequent. Usually it was, “what are you up to this weekend?”, followed by him saying something along the lines of, “you should come visit. I got a new batch from Rick, and we should smoke it and see how long we can go without touching each other”. Because of this, you started to make occasional trips to Hawkins to smoke weed and hook up to cope and escape your personal hell that was freshman year.

“Hey, you” You smiled into the phone.

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna call me back,” you could hear him smiling on the other end of the phone too, a lusty drawl to his voice you detected immediately. “You weren’t cheating on me by being smoked out by some other college stoner, right?” he teased. The thing you liked the most about you and Eddie’s agreement was that you both knew where you stood. There were no complicated feelings involved.

“You know I would never,” you fake-gasp.

“So, listen,” you hear him shift on the other side of the phone. “There’s this huge Halloween costume party this weekend here in Hawkins. I’m not one for Hawkins parties… but this one actually sounds like it might be fun. Wanna come?”

“Most definitely,” you nod. “Are we coordinating costumes?” you tease, fiddling with the phone cord.

“Well, I actually have an idea, but it’s kind of...”

“I expect nothing less from you,” you cut him off. He begins to ramble about some Motley Crüe music video that he loves and how you could dress as one of the ‘hot chicks’ and he could dress as one of the band members and it would be ‘totally awesome’. He explains the costume details to you in the best way a male brain can, and you make a mental note to stop by a video rental store tomorrow to rent the music video and see what you’re working with here.

“I’ll be there Friday night, costumed up.”

“Oh, I do like the sound of that,” he breathed out. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

✧

As you pull up to the party, Eddie makes a point to trot over to your van door and pull it open for you. Ever the gentleman, dressed head to toe in an undeniably incredible Tommy Lee costume.

“Why thank you,” you smile, taking his hand as you step out of the van. You could hear the bumping bass from the party all the way from where Eddie parked down the street.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Eddie started, giddily walking, already producing a joint and sparking up. “Your costume looks insane. I don’t know how you managed to do that within a few days,” he lets out a puff of smoke and hands you the joint.

You give a twirl and slip the joint past your lips. “It’s pretty easy to be out shopping for things when you wanna spend as least time in your dorm room as possible.” It was true. After your big exam, the rest of the week had gone by smoothly with you busying yourself by either being at the library or out shopping and crafting your costume.

You both pass the joint to each other a few times and before you know it, you’re both making your way through the people crowding the lawn. Just before you make your way into the house, Eddie stops to chat with some of his D&D buddies. You decide to leave him to his friends, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything.

You already feel a bit tipsy, mentally thanking Eddie for roping you into taking a few tequila shots before leaving for the party. The inside of the house is dark and smoky, save for some flashing colorful lights illuminating the crowd of closely knit dancing bodies. You spot an opened, nearly full bottle of… Merlot? Was it merlot? You soon realized you didn’t care. Your fingers tighten around the sticky bottle, and you heartily swig it, the liquid grossly warm. Your feet take you to the edge of the crowd, immediately getting engulfed in the group of people, dancing to the music, happy and carefree to be anywhere but your dorm room.

You lose track of time. After a while of dancing on your own and progressively letting the wine, tequila, and weed all take their effect, in the haze of the dark, smoky crowd, you hear a wolf whistle over the music in your direction. You took a spin, expecting to meet eyes with Eddie.

Your blood ran cold, and you choked the swig of wine you’d just taken. Steve’s beautiful face was illuminated by only the occasional flashes of light in the large room, a lopsided, drunk smile on his face. He stood closely in front of you, slightly swaying to the music. You quickly take in his Scarface costume, a small voice in the back of your mind immediately assuming that a beautiful, blonde Elvira is close by.

You both stare at each other for a minute, you stand still amid drunk dancing teens. You quickly realize you are obscured from wherever Eddie’s view happened to be by the large crowd around you, but why was that your first thought? You try to glance around to see if Eddie had decided to come inside, or if he was anywhere in eyeshot so he could rescue you. But you’re feeling Steve’s eyes raking over your body. Heat flushes over you, and you clamp your thighs together, stifling the thoughts and feelings washing over you prompted by his seductive gaze.

“What do you want”, you ask, it coming out snarkier than you’d meant for it to. You’re just… uncomfortable under his heavy gaze. But not uncomfortable, like you didn’t want him near you. No, no. Moreso… uncomfortable because when you saw him looking at you the way he did, a heat ignited somewhere in you. It had been so long since you’d seen his face, nevertheless seen him look at you with such… lust? Could you even call it that?  

“I’d been trying to get over to you for the past 17 songs,” he retorted over the music, just loud enough for you to hear. “You are hard to track down, you know that?” More teens were dancing into you, of course pushing you and Steve closer. Too close. So close that you could smell that he had been drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes. And his cologne. The cologne you’d complimented one of the first times you’d hung out. The cologne that reminded you of being close to him. Smelling it on his neck when you had been kissing his collarbone…. Heat flushed over your cheeks, and you’d hope he didn’t see it in the rhythmic flashing of lights. A particularly hard jab from a girl dressed as Madonna hit your arm, causing your bra strap to fall to your arm.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you choked out, frantically adjusting the strap of your top back to your shoulder, finally finding your voice again. You were suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Your hands grow sweaty as the wine bottle slips through your fingers. You take a swig, desperate to break the charged eye contact he was making with you.

“Did you happen to forget I still live here?” He snarked back, a goofy Steve Harrington smile on his lips.

“And so what if I did?” You respond, looking to try and brush past him. You need to find Eddie. He’s your crutch here. You need to remove yourself from the situation, because you know you’ll get in far too deep if he keeps looking at you this way. But his large frame steps in front of you, blocking you in between him and the group of girls behind you.

“You leave town onto bigger and better things and end up rightback next to me, huh?” He gives a cocky smirk and takes a sip from his cup, not breaking eye contact. “Funny how that works.”

“I’m just here visiting a friend,” You retort.

“Yeah, you know, I did hear about that…” He started, a hint of a scoff bubbling out through his lips. He leans close to your ear, one hand grazing the fabric on your forearm, dangerously close to the swell of your hip, the other hand clutched around his red solo cup. Beads of sweat form on your forehead, but not from the heat.

“Somebody told me you’re actually here with Eddie Munson,” he chuckled a bit, as if it was unbelievable. You pulled away and scanned his darkened and unreadable eyes, trying to get what he’s playing at. You notice the King Steve persona again, like you did the day you dumped him. You don’t know it, but something inside him flipped when he saw you dancing on the dancefloor, skirt riding up your thigh, bra strap slipping down your arm.

“Why do you care? I’m sure there’s some girl around here you brought,” you play it off like it doesn’t sting your tongue to say. You wanted to know so badly why he was asking. Did he care? Was he going to make fun of you? Was he hurt? Jealous?

“I just didn’t think he was your type, you know…” He persisted, raising his cup to his face, a dark smile starting to form as he speaks. “I mean… now that I think about it, something about him reminds me of Nancy. I think it’s the curly hair…” He said with a wink and a swig of his drink. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. You immediately knew what he was getting at. You’d been so insecure in your entire relationship with him that you were just his Nancy rebound. Idiotic Tommy and Carol would never let you hear the end of it with how different you were from Nancy, and it ate away at you and made you so insecure. Because you weren’t like Nancy Wheeler, like, at all. And with this comment he was not only insulting you, but your choice in having Eddie Munson as your date to this party. This was his response to the low blow you had made before leaving his house the day you broke up with him. You take a deep breath in, releasing your arms and shoving his chest with the top of the wine bottle.

“Was that the best insult you could come up with, Stevie? Is Eddie Munson making King Steve that insecure?” you mock him, the alcohol finally giving you your fiery attitude. “You know what, he may not be as manly as you think you are but trust me…” you drunkenly grab a fistful of his shirt and bring him close to lean towards his ear, “he’s more of a man than you ever were. Especially in bed,” you purr. You release his shirt and shove him away.

You’re expecting him to be stunned, to be speechless. King Steve, dethroned. But to your horror, he gives a dark, dry laugh.

The opening riff to a new song starts playing, and the crowd cheers, causing Madonna to bump into you so harshly that you’re thrown into a compromising position. Steve places his hands on your arms, steadying the both of you, so your back close to him, and he starts moving with the music.

“Oh, I’m not worried about him competing with the way I made you feel,” he leans in, millimeters away from your ear, hands sliding dangerously close to your hips. “I’m sure Eddie Munson doesn’t know you well enough to know the right ways to pleasure you like I did. Tell me,” he breathes, hot and close to your ear. Shivers run down your arms. “Do you let him use those pink handcuffs on you? You know… the ones I bought for you?”

Your mouth goes dry, numbly moving as his hands guide your body to the music with his. A gasp hitches in your throat as you feel him closer behind you.

“Just give me tonight… for old time’s sake. I think I need to remind you just how good I made you feel.” A shiver runs up your arm as his hand runs down your arm, gripping the wine bottle with his hand over the top of yours. He brings it up to his lips, your hand trapped under his. Once he swigs a few gulps, he slides the bottle down the front of your body, letting go of the bottle, but his touch lingering on your collarbone.

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the fact that the song that just started playing is one of your favorites and Steve knows it. But something in you chases the high that his touch is giving you. So, what the hell. You give in. You know it’s what you want, deep down, even if you were stone cold sober. You couldn’t deny that nights spent at Eddie’s trailer, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, memories of Steve haunted your memories. You couldn’t deny it, even though you wanted to pretend it didn’t keep you up some nights.

You begin to sway to the music, Steve’s strong body behind you guiding you to the rhythm. His touch never leaving you. It felt so right, like returning to a proper stasis after chaos for so long. It felt right and comfortable and normal. His hands wander your curves, and you throw your head back. Steve knew your body in a way Eddie never had. Intimacy with Steve wasn’t just about immediate sexual satisfaction. It was about intimacy. Steve had cared about you, actually cared. He wanted to make you feel good. You knew the persona he was playing up tonight was a front to hide how he really felt. He yearned for you, especially yearned to make you feel good. You’d refused to admit it since you started hooking up with Eddie, but Steve had made you feel good in a far different way. And the fact that he knew it simultaneously pissed you off and turned you on.

You feel Steve’s hand ghost up your arm and to your shoulder, and almost instinctively, as if you were back to your old ways, you let your head lull to the side. Steve’s lips immediately attach to the spot on your neck that he knows you love. You let out a moan, inaudible under the music. Your fingers tangle into his thick hair, willing him to keep going. His hands lightly trail up the front of your thin shirt, and you can feel his fingers brush against your nipple. And suddenly, he detaches his lips from you, much to your dismay.

You turn your head, sighing in protest, and turn to him, inches away from your face. His drunken breath fans across your face, intoxicating you more than any weed you smoked or wine you swigged tonight. The lights flash from behind his head, lighting up his beautiful features. His eyes fall to your lips, and his large hand moves from your chest to cup your cheek, and he pulls your face forcefully to meet your lips to his. He wastes no time making the kiss as sloppy as the environment you’re in calls for, his hands running wild. To your surprise, you feel your hand gripping his shirt, your body aching to get him even closer. You give into the sensation and let your hands tentatively rake down the front of his shirt. You waste no time slipping under his shirt, hands dancing up his torso, Eddie a long, distant memory. But your lips grow cold as he pulls away. He sloppily smirks at you, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. You hate him for it.

“Ditch Munson and come home with me,” he says, still close to you. Under the smug façade he puts on, you can see that his eyes are almost desperate. Your brain tries to formulate a sentence to decline, but you look at his face and see Steve’s real self through the mask. Not King Steve, but the real, genuine Steve. The one you love. Lips puffy from crashing into yours, cheeks flushed, hair tussled from where your fingers had raked through it. The smell on his breath intoxicates you. He feels safe. Familiar. Something about him you can’t resist. You never could resist.

“Steve, I don’t want to get you tangled up in something complicated,” you find the words tumbling out of your mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for dumping him only to end up getting involved with another Hawkins boy. What a slap in the face that must have been. But he leans in and kisses you deeply, stopping your train of thought. When he pulls away, he keeps his face close to yours.

“Let’s worry about this in the morning, yeah?” He nods, encouraging you. You know you want to too; you just worry you’re going to hurt him in the process. His hand finds its way to your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your chin. “Let tonight just be… tonight, okay?”

You gaze up at him, brain racing through a million answers to give him in the span of a millisecond. But you respond with the answer you know deep down that you really want to say.

“Let’s get out of here,” You slide your arm around his and start to push through the crowd.

please do not repost anywhere. please do not plagiarize my work as your own. please do not use my writing for any AI purposes.

[intheconfessiondial]

Redraw of the cape post, because that entire concept deserved better than the illustration I gave it.

[spielzeugkaiser]

not your songbird.

[homriette]

Specter , I wanna draw more Arknights if possible