#band geek robin my beloved

[eskawrites]

okay i’m officially obsessed with robin’s high school band experience (i say officially, i’ve been thinking about this for a while and now i’m finally caving and writing about it), so here are my Robin Buckley Band Geek(TM) headcanons for you to enjoy or ignore at your leisure

Robin is actually surprisingly into basketball. did you see her at that game? yeah, she’s there to shred the melody line on 25 or 6 to 4, but she’s also here cheer on/laugh at the Hawkins High team

you bet your ass she has had a crush on like half the girls’ basketball team btw

some of her first jabs at Steve were actually about some of his worst moments on the court. until she saw that those actually hit kind of hard, and then she laid off and started mocking his inability to talk to girls instead

once she and steve become friends, he’s actually surprised when she can keep up with his and lucas’s basketball chats. they ask her to practice with them exactly once, and it goes as terribly as you’d expect. but she still hangs out sometimes and gives lucas pointers when steve isn’t there

her favorite pep band song is Sweet Caroline. it just is.

sweeeet carolliiiiiiine. dun dun DUNNNNNNN

she is not supposed to be standing next to Vickie during Lucas’s game (seriously what even are their lines?? trombone trumpet clarinet? a random baritone row behind them? @ hawkins pep band wtf is going on here)

but she’s a senior and she can do what she wants

Vickie lets her, which is very cute imo

she has a vendetta with the percussion line

this is band kid law. you have to have a vendetta with either the percussion line or the trumpet section, and since she plays trumpet, she only has one option

she’s actually not bad at marching band. she has the discipline, she can think on her feet, she can focus on her steps and the angle of her trumpet and the set list and everything all at once with no issue. it takes her a while to stop stumbling over her feet freshman year, but once she has the fundamentals down, she’s absolutely fine

she took a french horn solo to state contest her junior year and actually ranked pretty high. but between the stress and the ptsd, she just didn’t have the motivation to do it again her senior year

it’s just as well. contest would’ve been after the events of spring break, and even if hawkins high had the resources to send a group of band and choir kids to contest after the “earthquake,” she definitely would’ve backed out

speaking of spring break, the first time she tries to play trumpet again after facing vecna hurts. that’s a lot of air to get through a throat that’s been nearly crushed by upside down vines. she fakes a lot of her playing for a few weeks, and by the time graduation rolls around, she’s mostly just going through the motions

it’s another thing the upside down has taken from her, and it makes her livid

Nancy absolutely understands why Robin is pulling away from band, but sometimes she thinks back on her vague memories of Robin in the bleachers--the crisp jacket, the clean white gloves, the sharp angle of her shoulders as she snaps her horn to attention--and she wishes she’d paid more attention to her back then

Will joins band his sophomore year! he wants to try something that’s just for him. he asks Robin for advice and she tells him how to get on the director’s good side as well as which kids to avoid. she also tells him that if he joins percussion she’ll never forgive him.

i think he’d play sax personally--lots of melody, great for solos, but also not the center of attention and really good at blending in

Robin finds herself going to a lot of hawkins high games during her gap year, which is completely unexpected but also a lot of fun. she and Steve sit in the stands and cheer Will and Lucas on in equal measure

(Will being there for all of Lucas’s games, too <3 it’s what he deservessss)

Robin’s parents are broke and she never ever spends any of her money on herself, so she doesn’t actually own any of the instruments she’s played. which means after high school, she has no access to any of it even if she wanted to keep playing

Nancy, Steve, and all the kids pitch in to get her a really nice trumpet a couple years after high school. we’re talking King brand, silk-lined case, the works. she cherishes that thing like it’s the fucking crown jewels

if/when Robin goes to college, she won’t join band but she’ll befriend a lot of the band kids. they’ll find out she used to play a couple different brass instruments and encourage her to pick it up again, even if it’s just in her free time

she does, and she joins some small groups--not class related, just having fun and performing with her friends

(steve goes to every single performance, even if it’s not even a show or anything. he’s been known to sit in on practices and grin at her with the proudest, dorkiest look on his face)

(Nancy also goes to every performance she can. she surprises Robin once, flying in at the last minute to go to one of her concerts. she shows up with a bouquet of flowers and it takes all of Robin’s willpower not to fall to her knees and propose right there)

#robin buckley #band headcanons! we as a fandom should talk more about band geek robin buckley #and by that i mean i as an individual am prepared to keep talking about band geek robin buckley #also some crumbs for #ronance #writing things #band geek robin my beloved

[dadsbongos]

a warm body

Stranger Things x Horror Movie Collection

American Psycho / Halloween / Scream / Friday the 13th / Fear Street / Jennifer’s Body

13.7K words

warnings - sexual allusions lol!, descriptions of wounds/violence (blood n gore n such), bimbo reader bimbo reader <3, jennifer’s body au

summary - You drag Robin to The Hideout in hopes of fulfilling your fantasy of hooking up with a boy in a band. Hijinks ensue and suddenly you’re a succubus that only your bestest friend can satiate.

“Hey, we’ve gotta go to The Hideout tonight.”

“Ew,” Robin gags, “Enough of Munson, okay? I’m sick of going to their gigs.”

“It’ll be fun,” you pout and lean your head against the locker next to Robin’s, “besides, there’s a new band showing up today. Heard it straight from Gareth in the lunch line - Bombed Grave, or some shit. Should be good.”

“Oh my God,” Robin shakes her head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, “You need to get over this fantasy of being a groupie, it’ll get you killed.”

“It will not get me killed, it’s just a one-time thing, you know?” you fiddle with one of the rings Robin had gifted you a couple of years back, “Some stupid boy in a stupid band and me, just once. It’d be fun. And then it’s over.”

You shrug like it’s simple - like you’re talking about a piercing.

“Well, as long as I’m here - no stupid boy from a shitty band is getting anywhere near you,” Robin grins sardonically.

“Hey,” you stick out your bottom lip, elbowing Robin in the side, “I’m a big girl now, I can take care of myself, Rob,” then just to tease, you throw out, “Mom.”

“Don’t call me ‘Mom’,” she groans.

“Then don’t act like I need a savior,” you look away, immediately finding the gaggle of math club members staring at you.

Robin watches as you wave and giggle and they nervously return the gesture.

Robin hates to call you an airhead, but sometimes you didn’t think things through. Going to The Hideout every Tuesday in an effort to sleep with a band member, she suspected, was one of them.

“Fine, okay,” Robin doesn’t know why she puts up a fight anymore, she always gives in. Perhaps it’s just the illusion of debate - the back-and-forth - that she likes, “I’ll go. And I won’t be your little savior.”

“Okay, then!” you perk up, reaching into the collar of your cheer uniform and pulling out your half of a BFF magnet necklace.

It was your part of a heart-shaped strawberry charm. You held it out proudly and Robin, despite how much she’d pretend to hate it, couldn’t help but pull out her own half. She connects your pieces and watches you light up at the way they click.

“I’ll drive you home to drop off your shit and change,” you pause, narrowing your lashes, “And I need to borrow a shirt,” she raises a brow and you just shrug, “People dig the short cheer skirt, but the uniform top makes it a little too real.”

“Gross,” Robin shuts her locker as the minute bell shrills.

“Uber,” you bump her shoulder with yours, “‘kay, I gotta go. See ya!”

“See you later!” she sighs once you’ve left.

What shirt could she possibly lend you that you didn’t already steal?

Every cute shirt - or article of clothing period - she owned was most likely already stashed in your closet. Not that Robin necessarily minded, it isn’t like she wore those clothes very often (or at all) anyway.

Robin has no fucking clue how you and her stayed friends after elementary school. She was adopted by the Hawkins’ middle school band and you became one of their beloved cheerleaders. Your rise to popularity was swift and unmatched by even King Steve himself and even now, you haven’t fallen from your pedestal.

She assumes it’s because you, unlike most other popular kids, are actually really nice. Chrissy Cunningham is your cheer co-captain and if it weren’t for Robin, you two would be the most iconic duo since Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs.

Now, as you’re both seniors, Robin remains a band geek, and you queen of Hawkins High (if not all of Hawkins itself), and you two are still tied at the hip.

Seriously, how Robin is your little friend after X amount of years, is an absolute cold case to her, but she’s not about to give it up.

So, Robin just bites her tongue and goes to her Spanish 3-4.

“No, no, no, no,” you pause your cycling through clothes and Robin looks up from her peeling black nail polish, your head is tilted and you pull out whatever has caught your eye, “When’d you get this?”

Robin’s cheeks flush and she huffs, reaching out to rip the offending sweater from your hands, “Oh my God, just put it down!”

“No!” you whine, clutching the pink fabric to your chest, “It’s adorable. I like it.”

You hold the sweater up. Robin usually buys her clothes in bigger sizes than what she actually is, that’s why you like borrowing her clothes - it’s rare to find something of hers that won’t fit you too.

It was something you’d have to work with - just a plain pink sweater with red hearts. And it’s not like it’d go with your cheer skirt.

You throw the garment over one shoulder and move to where Robin stored the skirts she doesn’t wear anymore.

“See, this always happens,” Robin rolls her eyes, all in good fun, and leans back on her elbows, “‘Just a shirt,’” she mocks, “You’re a little thief.”

“Whatever,” you chuckle and pull out a short, black skirt, “As if you were gonna wear these.”

“It’s the principal of the matter,” Robin stands, sighing loudly and draping her arms around your shoulders.

“Okay, turn so I can change,” when she doesn’t move, you shrug, “Fine. Don’t.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Robin has ever seen you change, but it never fails to make her squawk and cover her eyes before giving up. You’d be lying if you said that her watching you change never sent a spark through you.

“What’s even your plan?” Robin tilts her head, trying her absolute damndest to keep her eyes above your collarbones, “Hook up with who? The guitarist or the singer? And then what? Just go after a painter?”

“I dunno,” you grin, “Maybe I’ll keep chasing bands. Maybe it isn’t a regular guy I want, but Eddie Munson, and now I’m just trying to fill the void,” Robin wretches dramatically, “Okay, okay. I’m kidding.”

Eddie’s nice. You don’t have a reason to dislike him, you just didn’t think he was your type beyond a quick fantasy. Not that you spend all day thinking about how he isn’t your type, mainly because if you do that then you have to confront what - or rather, who - is your type.

“What about after, though? Are you still gonna drag me around so you can screw with guys who don’t deserve you?”

“Haven’t thought much about it,” you move to look yourself over in Robin’s full body mirror, “Best friend approval?”

Robin hums as if thinking, eyes narrowing and lips pressing thinly before she ultimately nods, “Best friend approves.”

“Yay,” you cheer under your breath, grabbing your purse from her vanity and skipping over to her bedroom door, “Ready?”

She looks around as if there’s anything of importance that she could possibly be leaving behind. Everything she needs is already at the door, ready to flutter out and right into the arms of some guitarist. Or vocalist. Anyone but the drummer.

“Maybe the drummer,” you announce to Robin, parking in front of The Hideout.

“How low will you go?” she gasps, scandalized, then giggles when you shoot her a glare, “I’m just saying, bunny, it isn’t that big a deal if you go with the drummer instead of the guitarist. I bet 99% of people won’t even know who you’re talking about if you tell them who you’re with. Just saying.”

“You know what I think?”

The both of you climb out of your car and Robin tilts her head, watching as you wait to hear your doors lock.

“Hm?”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to get out there.”

Robin scoffs and you bounce up to the door, lugging it open for Robin to enter the dingy, dim, dank bar.

You see Eddie immediately and Robin hates to say how jealous it makes her when you squeal and throw yourself on him with a giggly, “hi, Eds!”

“Hey, bubble-brain,” his eyes flick to Robin, “Someone’s outta their element.”

“Huh?” you rear back and nod, “Oh! Yeah.”

Robin tries smiling at Eddie, but it comes out strained, her hands packed in her pockets and clenching tightly. Her rings indent her skin and she can feel her teeth digging into the thin stretch of skin inside her cheek.

“Hey,” you reach into her coat pocket and take her hand, “if you really don’t wanna be here, we can go.”

She considers it.

Honestly? Honestly - she’d rather be back at her house, with you. Eating ice cream with bad romcoms stuffed full of cliches she makes fun of but always cries to at the end. With you, though. It’s only worth it if it’s with you.

“I’m fine,” she looks over at the bar, then past your shoulder, “You go look for your boy toy,” her brows shoot up at Eddie, “Munson, wanna help a girl out?”

“I’d be honored,” he bows and you peck Robin’s cheek appreciatively before bounding further into the bar. Eddie is observant - it’s one of the things Robin hates most about him - and he pulls out a fake ID while staring right at her.

The bartender knows Eddie - hell, everyone in town knows Eddie - and she knows that he’s only twenty. But hey, then again, he’s twenty and it isn’t like she’s being pressed to card the people they serve anyway. Because nobody even gives a fuck.

“What’s your damage, dingus?” Robin can hear how tired she sounds but there’s no room for her to try and pretend she’s anything else, “Staring’s rude.”

Eddie orders before looking down at Robin, “I think you should get it over with and just take her home.”

“You’re crazy!” she swats his shoulder, “Also, shut up.”

Eddie finding out Robin is a lesbian was a massive accident. She didn’t know he was behind her and Steve during Ferris Bueller and kept whispering about how hot Ally Sheedy was. It was way after hours at Starcourt, how was she supposed to know anyone else was there?

But he kept her secret.

“I’m just saying,” Eddie hands over a glass ripe with condensation, “You’re gonna watch her flirt her cute little sweater off with some douche, and then you’re gonna whine and ask me to drive you home. ‘Cuz if you go with her, she’s gonna drop you off and you’ll have to walk through the door alone knowing the one you love is about to get her shit rocked.”

Robin stares down at the cocktail. If she was a little smarter, she would’ve asked what it was before taking it. It’s clear, if a little auburn. Just a tad.

She doesn’t even know what to say, “It’s my sweater. She’s ‘borrowing’ it.”

Eddie coos, pouts, and pats her head, “Poor thing. You’re so fucked.”

Robin takes a cautious sip of the cocktail and her face immediately screws up, she gags and holds the glass away as Eddie laughs, “Dude, what the hell is this?”

“Moscow mule,” he clinks his glass to hers, “Vodka. Ginger. Lime. Enjoy and don’t drink it too fast.”

“Won’t be an issue!” she huffs, watching his stupid vest’s stupid Dio back design disappear into the crowd, “Atthay assholeyay.”

She takes another sip, somehow more careful than last time, and that’s when she sees you. You’re talking up the lead singer of the other band and he’s eating it up because who wouldn’t?

You’re sweet and, yeah, simple, but you’re more than that. You’re not just a best friend, you’re her one. Her person. The Nancy to her Margaret. The burger to her fries. The Shaggy to her Scooby. You two are Wham! You stay up until midnight just to call and wish her a happy birthday. She holds back your hair and helps you out of your heels when you go overboard at your popular friends’ lame parties. You feed each other soup when the other is sick.

You try really hard. All the time. Doesn’t matter what it is. School, cheer, dressing, befriending, shopping, whatever it may be - you try like someone will die if you fail. It’s intense and admirable to her at the same time.

And right now, you’re trying really hard to get the singer to like you. Robin would bet her entire college fund that it’s working, too.

So she stays out of your way and pretends that seeing that stupid guy’s hands pet over her sweater on your body doesn’t make her silently languish.

This time, her drag of Moscow mule is longer. Stronger. And she thinks that somewhere in the back of her head, or perhaps the back of the bar, Eddie is laughing.

“They’re not good,” Robin mutters as soon as you’re back at her side.

You wrap an arm around hers, yanking her shoulder into your chest, “Yeah…” you sigh, “but he’ll do. Not like he’s gonna be my boyfriend after this or anything, so no need to pretend.”

Robin has hated every single one of your boyfriends.

“You, uh,” she swallows the marble in her throat, “you giving him a ride?”

You giggle and she groans, “Jeez, Rob, talk about forward.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she tosses her head back and when you just keep laughing, it’s almost like things are how they should be.

Then your cheek presses to hers and you nod, “You need a ride home?”

“No,” she clenches her eyes shut, “Munson said he’d give me one.”

“Aw, he’s such a sweetheart,” you pull away, one hand wrapping around hers, “Call me if you need anything, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Robin watches you reapply her favorite gloss that you own, “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Impossible,” you search the crowd and wave over your beau for the night, “Seriously, though. I’m a ring away. Maybe just gimme an hour or two before you have an emergency.”

“Sure,” Robin knows she’s being curt, but it’s not like she can help it. She can, but she shouldn’t. If she talks in longer sentences then everything will come loose and all her secrets will be like a rippling wound.

Eddie hangs an arm over Robin’s shoulders and laughs in her ear, “Hmm, did I get it word for word? Or did I get it word for word? I need to be reminded.”

“Shut up and get me another, Munson,” Robin shoves her glass into his chest.

To her, boys were ugly, red, agitated zits (except maybe Steve, who was a smaller, healing zit). To you, they were momentary fun when Hawkins felt a little dry. If she wasn’t so desperately wishing she could be the boy you give a ride, then maybe she’d be happy for you.

You wait for your car’s heater to thaw at Hawkins’ chilled night air before pulling away from the bar, “Your place or mine?”

“Actually,” the singer, Robbie he’d told you, lays a hand on your thigh. Toothy grin and pink lips on display, “there’s this cute little place in the woods. Think you’d like it.”

Robin didn’t like drinking. It gave her a headache and made her stink. Made her have to sneak back into her room just to avoid her parents finding out. Made her mind somehow less aware of her words.

So she laid in bed - face down in sunset sheets and stripped to her shirt and underwear - with one hand on the bedside table phone. Her fingers were wound tight around the receiver in a wavering display of determination. She wants to call you.

Make sure you got home safe. Make sure that idiot didn’t hurt you. Make sure you’d sleep well.

But you’re probably busy, so she also wants to leave it be.

Her fingers don’t move though, and when the sheets grow too hot with her breath being shot back in her face, she angles her head to the side. Her hair falls into her eyes and over her cheeks; she can’t be bothered to fix any of it, so it remains.

Fuck it.

You said to call, right? You want her to be able to call, right? Yeah, of course, you do. Robin knows you well, and she knows you don’t say things you don’t mean.

So she picks up the receiver and her fingers fly about the numbers in muscle memory. Turning onto her back, Robin blinks up at the ceiling as the phone rings.

A few streets down, your bedroom window is still open from when you forgot to close it before school. Inside your bedroom is an egg-shell white nightstand on the side of your bed not pressed to a wall. On the nightstand is a bubblegum pink phone gifted to you by your parents. It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Robin blows a stray hair from where it’d tangled into her lashes.

Four times.

The line beeps and your family’s voicemail message plays.

She slams the receiver down and picks it back up. You usually don’t let the phone ring more than twice - even if you don’t want to take a call; you have the balls to either pick up and say so or simply pick up the phone and immediately hang up. So she dials your number again and sighs.

A handful of blocks away, there’s a forest that hides Lover’s Lake. A few miles from Lover’s Lake is Skull Rock. Against the side of Skull Rock is a young girl - you, in a torn pink sweater that wasn’t even yours - bound and screaming through a gag. You watch, wide-eyed and seconds away from pissing yourself, as Robbie unsheathes a knife, his drummer readies a printed prayer to Satan.

In your bedroom, a pretty pink phone sends its unlucky caller right back to voicemail.

Robin groans, scratching at her stomach, and lets the receiver tumble back into place.

She debates calling again. You probably aren’t even home.

You probably aren’t even home.

The thought makes her turn back onto her stomach and groan louder into her pillow.

The night is dark and cold. Robin hates the cold. It reminds her of the dead - of how her Aunt Shauna looked so pale and plastic in her casket. Young Robin made the mistake of touching Aunt Shauna’s hand and now teenage Robin has to deal with the consequences.

It’s agony.

She awakes with a shiver and looks to where her peachy curtains are dancing gently in the wind from an open window. Of which, she was sure she shut.

Robin rises from bed and yawns, one hand on the window frame and the other rubbing at her drool-crusted cheek. Just as she goes to shut the window, she sees it - right on the ledge of the frame are two big bloody handprints.

That’s when she wakes up a little more - realizes that her bedroom door was open when it’s normally shut. She hears it then, too, the rustling in her kitchen downstairs.

Someone’s inside.

Robin scurries to her closet and pulls out the bat full of nails that Steve insisted she keep for him. Her bare feet touch cold wood and her legs shake as she makes her way to the kitchen. The lighting there is limited to the bulb inside the fridge.

There’s more rustling. Things unwrapping and ripping open. Tupperware lids thrown across the tile and the sounds of something - an animal - eating straight out of the containers.

She wants to run, but her parents are upstairs and even if they don’t get along at the best of times, she’s not going to let them be attacked by… by…

There’s a sharp gasp of pain and her resolve is wavering.

Then the thing comes up, and it casts a human shadow on the wall opposite the fridge. A feminine silhouette dances across the ugly pistachio paint.

A croak. A cough. A call.

“Rob…in?”

It’s broken and pained and inhuman, but it’s your voice. Undoubtedly.

Robin’s bat clatters to the ground, just narrowly missing her feet and she runs into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” she clasps her hands over her mouth, eyes wide at the sight of you.

You’re fully leaning against the counter, arms limp at your side and head slid against the side of the fridge. You look like hell.

You swallow, sputter, and blink at her miserably, “Robin.”

“What…” her eyes roam - sweater torn open down the middle and stomach gaping with blood and prickled flesh, shoes missing, socks ripped and stained with dirt and blood, skirt weathered to threads at the end and thighs slashed. She can’t look you in the eye, “What the fuck happened to you?”

She flies forward, hands cradling your face. She can feel her heart in her stomach and throat simultaneously.

You’re so out of it, your eyes don’t even seem to be seeing her. They stare straight through, like she’s not even there.

You smile and that’s when she sees the blood staining your teeth, it spills out between your split lips and you giggle when she gasps.

“Oh my God,” she backs away, head on a swivel to find the paper towels, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God- “

You wrap your arms around her waist, chin leaning on her shoulder and temple pressing to her cheek, “Robin…”

“Yeah,” Robin extends her arm, fingertips just brushing the paper towels, “I’m Robin - and I’m gonna get you cleaned up. Then we’re going straight to the hospital,” she stops, “Or should we go to the hospital now? We should go to the hospital now.”

“Uh-uh,” you tut, squeezing her tighter, your tone drops a little lower - how it does when you flirt, “Are you scared?”

“Scared of you?” Robin tries worming from your grasp but you’re holding too tightly, “I’m not- I could never. But we need to go, right now. You’re really hurt and I can feel you bleeding on me and you’re- “

“Good,” you coo and stumble back. There’s a rumble, you belch, and then your jaw drops open - black mucus-tar amalgamation spills out. It spots and bubbles and Robin throws herself backward - spine cracking against the doorway. Her hands clamp over her mouth to muffle the scream that rips her throat sore.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she slides down to her ass, hands covering her ears. There are tears and her chest burns and she can’t breathe. The air is too thick and she squeezes into herself, as if it’d make her physically disappear.

She starts rocking. It’s all she can do.

This is a nightmare. A nightmare. A horrible fucking dream.

When she opens her eyes, everything is the same. The fridge door is tossed wide, there’s blood smeared on her counters and floor, and the thick muck you tossed up is spreading across her floor.

But you’re missing.

Bloody footprints lead from the fridge to the where kitchen meets hallway - then vanish. Her bat is gone, too.

“What the fuck?” her eyes bubble with tears and she collapses onto her side, legs pulled tight to her chest, “What the fuck?”

The room smells like death. It’s cold. So very freezing cold.

“Hey,” you look tired, books hugged tight to your chest as you approach Robin and Dustin at her locker.

“Hey,” Robin stares. Eyes almost cartoonishly popping from her skull.

She knows what happened was real. She spent hours cleaning and scrubbing and showering. Unless that was all part of the dream.

Jesus, Hawkins was fucked up if that was passing as a mere nightmare now.

Dustin nudges her with his elbow and shakes his head, then turns to you, “Are you… feeling alright?”

“God, no,” you frown and droop into the locker beside Robin’s, “I’m breaking out and I pulled out so much hair in the shower this morning. I thought I was about to go completely bald.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Dustin leans down to see your face when your head hangs, “You really don’t look good.”

“I’m fine, Dusty,” you pat the boy’s shoulder before turning to Robin, “I think I have to cancel tonight, though,” you pout and if it were a normal day, she’d just want to make that dismal expression go away, “Gonna stay in and hope whatever this is passes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Robin looks into her locker and pulls out a random textbook, she slams the door shut and clicks the lock back into place, “No worries, just…” you looked like something from a horror movie last night, “What happened last night? After you left.”

Dustin figures this conversation isn’t for him and wanders off when he spots Eddie in the crowd - wishing you well as he goes.

You shrug and scoot closer, “Normal stuff. I mean, nothing even happened with that guy,” you shouldn’t be lying, but it isn’t like she’d believe the truth, would she? “He figured I was a virgin and when I corrected him, he - like - demanded that I bring him home.”

But you didn’t correct him. Didn’t have the time. Didn’t get the chance.

Now you’re hoping that Robin figures last night was all just a nightmare - and from the look in her eyes, you know she’s teetering on that edge.

She wants to ask, you know that. You know her. If she wasn’t so terrified of speaking last night into reality, then she would. But asking would make it real. Outside of the gates and monsters and girls with telekinesis, Hawkins was normal and there was a certain level of abnormality that a person could take before they snapped.

And you and Robin both knew that this was just outside her limit. So she doesn’t ask and you don’t tell.

Instead, you yawn and shake your head to keep yourself awake, “Anyway, I gotta go to Mr. Peters’ math. See ya later?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, though. Her lip balm tints her lips a soft red and you like the way it looks. She accepts the kiss you press to her cheek, “See you later.”

In the meantime, you catch Sully Vacks outside of your shared first period. You drag him away from the door by the sleeve of his varsity jacket.

He looks at you weirdly and you already know it’s more about your lack of makeup than the fact you’re a living zombie wanting to take him somewhere private. Well, private-ish.

Sully isn’t a nice person. He dated your fellow cheerleader, Stacey Bennett, for a while and you knew firsthand about the explicit polaroid pictures he’d taken of her without her permission. And you knew secondhand how he shared them with the football team.

You can justify this to yourself. To what remains of your conscience.

“Do you have any plans later?” you tilt your head and gently run a finger over his bicep, “If not, I was thinking maybe we could… hang out?”

You put on the show of what boys like and you watch, half there and half out of control, as he dumbly falls into your line.

But you remember how much he hurt Stacey, and you can imagine she isn’t the first (or last) girl he’s hurt. So you decide that you can justify this meal to yourself.

Like a cheat day - he practically doesn’t even count.

“So,” Sully’s brows draw tight as he looks up at Skull Rock, “you bring all the boys here?” then he looks at you, “Or am I special?”

You simper and loop your arms around his neck, “Which do you prefer?”

“I like to think I’m special,” he leans down, nose nudging yours.

You nod slowly, “You’re very special, Sully.”

He practically collapses into your kiss and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t amusing how desperate he was. Your hands settle over his chest, then sink lower, lower, lower until your fingers are grazing under his shirt.

“Is this okay?” you whisper against his lips, watching your work through your lashes.

Sully’s breath stutters before he nods, “More than okay.”

Your nails scrape his stomach, just enough to be there without hurting, “Good.”

Prey should be at ease before they die and prey should die quickly - it’s inhumane otherwise.

And the news spreads as Robin gets out of the double doors after the final school bell rings.

“Did you hear what happened?” Steve is glaring right at Robin, “No, I am not letting you walk home. Get in the damn car.”

“Steve,” Robin sighs, “how’d you even know I needed a ride? You stalking me now?”

He gives her a pointed look and she relents, throwing open the passenger door of his BMW and climbing in.

“I didn’t know you needed a ride but I wanted to make sure,” his brows furrow as he continues to wait outside the school, “Also heard your little girlfriend wasn’t feeling well.”

“She’s not- “ Robin smiles at the thought though and the retort dies under her tongue, “Also, what happened?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Obviously not, dingus.”

“That varsity kid - Vacks? He…” Steve sounds winded, he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide, “His torso was torn open. Literally. Apparently, it looked like something was eating him.”

“Oh my God,” Robin’s hands fly over her mouth, slowly lowering for her to ask, “Do they know what did it?”

“‘What’?” Steve shakes his head, “No. That’s the weirdest part. It wasn’t like a wild animal did because it wasn’t those wounds that killed him,” Robin tilts her head. Steve looks out at the double doors and honks when some of his kids pile out, “Something snapped his neck. He died fuckin’ instantly.”

He puts up a finger to preemptively shush Robin as Dustin leans into the driver-side window.

“What?”

Steve nudges his head toward the backseats, “Get in.”

“No way,” Mike folds his arms, “We have to get Will and go to Hellfire tonight, we can’t just skip it.”

“Eddie will literally kill us,” Lucas tacks on.

“I can name something else that will literally, actually kill you,” Robin pipes up, earning a glare from Steve.

Mike and Lucas come closer to the car and Steve can practically see their hearts in their throats.

“It doesn’t look good,” Steve sets both hands on the wheel, “We don’t know what did it, but… Sully Vacks was more or less turned into a Thanksgiving dinner.”

“‘Don’t know what did it,’” Lucas shakes his head, “Yes, we do! Obviously, we do!”

Steve spots Max in the throng of people exiting Hawkins High, “No. Hopper said it didn’t look like anything we’ve seen, but I don’t want to rule it out entirely,” he drags a hand down his face and briefly wonders when his gray hairs will grow in, “Ask Mad Max if she needs a ride, will you?”

“There won’t be enough room,” Mike points out.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Steve grumbles, “Someone sits on a lap. I don’t care, you’re not staying late and I’m making sure you little shits get home.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lucas backs away, jogging over to where his girlfriend is sitting on the curb, fiddling with her walkman.

“How the hell did you even hear about this?” Dustin stands straight.

Steve rolls his eyes, “I may or may not have gotten a call that I legally can’t admit to,” his gaze darts between the boys to Robin, “From someone that may or may not have been Hopper.”

“Is El with him?” Mike asks, and Steve hates to see the way his face deconstructs in worry.

“Yeah, she’s with him,” Steve waves them off, “Go get Will and come right back. Do you hear me?” when they walk away with no confirmation, he shouts out the window, “I’ll hunt you all down, I’m not kidding!”

“You’re a regular Mama Bear, Steve,” Robin throws her head back against the rest, mind flooding with thoughts of you. More specifically, if your sudden change has anything to do with the possibility of the Upside Down being open again.

“These kids have seen too much,” Steve grips the steering wheel as Lucas approaches his car, “If possible, I want them as out of this whole thing as possible. If it’s even a thing,” his shoulders are tense and his mouth is distastefully dry, “Hopefully it’s just some psycho.”

But he doubts it.

Lucas leans down, one eye closed when the sun hits it dead on, “Max says Eddie can give her a ride. I’ll hitch with them, too, so your car’s not crowded.”

“Alright,” Steve nods, “Radio in when you’re home. Tell Max, too. I want to know you two are safe.”

“Yes, Mom,” Lucas rolls his eyes, waving off Robin as he walks away.

Will, Dustin, and Mike come upon the BMW. Will shakes his head vehemently, his hand brushes the back of his neck and he continues shaking his head.

Robin takes note of how at ease Will’s body is. As if everything, aside from this new paranoia, was totally fine.

Maybe this isn’t the work of the Upside Down. Which would usually be good - great, even - but it would raise more questions than it answered.

Who slaughtered Sully? Why would they do it? Why were you so suddenly ill? And what the fuck kind of dream did Robin have last night?

The Upside Down was officially ruled out as an option to the spectacle of violence when neither Eleven nor Will felt that it was open. Things were… safe.

You’re just glad Robin excused you from the meeting, on account of you being “sick”, before you could even hear about it. You don’t know how long and how hard you can lie, but you don’t plan on testing it out.

You give it a couple days before you return to Robin’s side at school.

And a good sum of weeks before forcing the whole thing out of your head.

Books hugged to your chest and preppy little cheer uniform on in eager wait for the pep rally and game later, you bounce up to Robin and slap a hand on her shoulder, “Boo!”

She gasps and jumps and glares when she realizes it’s only you, “You’re evil.”

“You’re just easy to scare,” you move and lean against the locker next to hers, “So…”

“So…?” she shuffles a couple books around, then flips down the cover to a mirror plastered on her locker door, peering into the glass.

“Prom is coming up,” you lean in close, grinning as she flounders for lipstick.

“Yeah, in two weeks,” she shrugs, “I know your schedule of tryouts for people to be your date is usually packed, but I am not so lucky.”

You roll your eyes and pull a garnet red lipstick from your bag, handing it to her over her shoulder, “I can only go with the people the general population would approve of, so that sucks.”

It was true, you couldn’t bring a girl to prom in the way Robin couldn’t. Unless it was as friends. But everyone knew that if you brought someone to prom as a friend, then you couldn’t dance the way you would want to dance with your date.

Except Robin, but that was more cowardice to confess than anything else.

“We could just go together?” you watch her apply your lipstick and you can hardly find it in yourself to tear your eyes away.

“Nah,” she sighs and caps the tube, “I don’t wanna screw up your chances of being prom queen.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” you accept the lipstick she holds out and replace it in your bag, “You wouldn’t mess up my chances. And it’s not like prom queen is that big a deal to me, you of all people should know that.”

“But this is our senior prom, if you didn’t win then I know you’d be bummed,” Robin shuts her locker and leans back against it. Her face dangles in front of yours like a carrot on a stick, “I might just make Steve bring me.”

“Ew,” your head thunks back on the metal, “I have no idea who I’m going with. All the boys here suck.”

“Are you just realizing?”

You shove her shoulder and huff while she laughs, “As true as that is, I can’t have my judgment mocked.”

“Oh, of course,” she shakes her head, “I’m so sorry, your highness.”

“I forgive you.”

Robin mocks a curtsy and swings her bag over her shoulder.

Things between you and Robin are different. You feel like she knows and she feels like you should know.

Over the same night, with two perspectives, you two are bound into different corners of the same room.

You want to tell her. You want help, you’re tired of fighting whatever it is inside you that tells you to feed. But you don’t want to drag anybody else into this - both for their safety, and yours. If you assume wrong, and there’s no way to help this curse, then you’re already dead.

Robin wants to tell you about her terrifying dream. Or at least, she’s decided it was a dream. She feels like you have a right to know, but you don’t. And also, what a peculiar thing it would be - to tell you about it. You weren’t even acting like yourself, it’d be childish to hold it against you. It is childish to hold it against you.

But there’s a pit in her gut no matter how badly she tries to shake it off.

“Wanna watch a movie together later?” but you’re so sweet and she adores you so much.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Robin looks up at the ceiling as if it would tell her what’s in stock at Family Video, “Anything specific?”

You hum as you think and she’s always found that adorable about you, “Something cute. I don’t wanna think too hard after what happened.”

“I got you,” she promises, “I’ll get a great movie. No thinking required.”

“Awesome,” you stop outside Mr. Peters’ room, “Alright, I’ll see you at lunch, right?”

“Definitely,” she punches your shoulder, “as long as you remember where the band table is.”

“I remember, I remember,” you swat her hand away and set a hand on the doorknob, “See ya!”

Robin nods dumbly, grinning lovestruck as she waves, “See you later.”

Fifth hour is a mixed bundle.

On one hand, your lab partner is Robin! That’s exciting. On the other, your teacher is Mr. Gordon Vacks. Sully’s father. That’s exhausting.

You wonder, though, if he’d be pressing people to bring justice if he knew what his son was doing with explicit polaroids he took and showed without permission.

Would he even care?

Probably not.

You discovered at a young age that most fathers don’t care what their sons do as long as they can brag to their friends how smart or strong or funny he is.

It might be unfair to lump Mr. Vacks in with such a crowd, but you have yet to be proven wrong (aside from Wayne Munson, he was more of a father than most biological dads in your opinion).

Another study day is laid upon the students. Another day for Mr. Vacks to spend grilling teenagers about if they saw anything, what they heard, where they were, and whatnot without having to worry about actually lecturing.

There’s a sick, twisted glee trapped between the rungs of your ribs every time he mentions his son. It’s bizarre and you don’t like it, but there’s something undeniable about it.

Your hand pressed to your mouth just to hide your growing smile, you act like you’re reading from the study guide while he speaks with Trinity Liú about Sully’s death. She last saw him with Jason Carver.

Good.

A paper pricks the side of your arm and you jump slightly, calming when you see Robin trying not to laugh at you.

You roll your eyes and take the paper.

ouyay okayyay?

“Pig Latin, really?” you whisper and she shrugs, trying not to giggle while you translate.

You pass the paper back.

fine. just worried i guess

As if.

Sully was a bastard.

But did he deserve to die?

Duh. He was awful. He was only going to hurt more people.

Well yeah, but did he deserve to actually die?

Did he?

You’re not so sure anymore. It makes you sick.

Robin passes the paper back.

ouyay ooklay icksay

Huffing, your reply is quick.

write like a normal person

She concedes and crosses out her previous statement. Replacing it.

you look sick

Are you sick because of your cracking mind? Or is it because you’re growing hungry?

You tilt your head and shrug.

i’m fine

Liar.

Though, now that you think about it. It’s been a good month of peace since Sully had to die, and now - you hate to admit it - you do feel weaker. You got a paper cut after feeding last month and it healed instantly.

You look down at your hands now, where you cut yourself removing a staple in homeroom, and it’s still a fine line of puckered, dying skin.

“You can tell me anything,” she whispers.

Not this. Robin doesn’t want to know this - she doesn’t have to know this.

Your eyes flip across the room. Past Robin. Past Trinity. Onto Andy - one of Jason’s best friends. He hasn’t done anything to you other than be annoying, but you know he bullies your friends.

Well, Eddie’s friends that are your friends by association. And the freshmen, who you insist are your friends.

Robin leans forward, brows knit tightly and lips pursed, “What’s wrong? Seriously, you’re being weird.”

“I’m fine, Rob,” she doesn’t look convinced. Not at all, and you don’t blame her. Your hand finds hers under the table and you squeeze, “Really. I’m okay.”

She doesn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of hers.

Robin hates this feeling. She hates distrusting you. She hates feeling like you’re lying - because that’s not you.

You're her best friend. You’re more. You’re her one. Her person.

“I’m here for you,” it's the last ditch.

You nod, “Thanks, but really. ‘m okay.”

And it falls through.

She hates distrusting you.

When the bell rings, you’re quicker than her to pack up. You rush after Andy and she can’t surmise why. You have never liked Andy, never so much as muttered about how he was even cute. Robin wishes she could just look inside your head and see what’s wrong.

Why’re you acting like this?

Or is she being paranoid?

She hates this.

Robin chooses to stay on the sidelines when she sees you pouring the sugar over Andy. She won’t tie you down when you two aren’t even dating, but there’s no chance she’s going to sit there and listen to you hook up a date.

Eventually, you’re back at her side, “Sorry. Had to make plans for tomorrow.”

“You can…” she sighs, “you can go tonight, if you want.”

“I don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Duh.”

It doesn’t fix what’s between you two - whether you’re hiding something or she’s paranoid - but it makes her beam. Pride and joy and love.

Movie nights are simple and easy.

This movie night is different.

You look awful - dried, bumpy skin and heavy bags under your bloodshot eyes. She doesn’t say anything, though.

“Okay,” Robin stands in front of your TV, holding up three videos, “We have: Sixteen Candles, Footloose, and Flashdance.”

“Uhm,” you wet your dried, cracked lips that persisted no matter how much balm you applied, blinking hazily, “Sixteen Candles.”

“Sucker for Ringwald,” she ‘tsk’s but pops the movie in all the same.

“Says the one who liked Vickie McNulty, that girl’s a carbon copy of Molly Ringwald. Have you seen Pretty in Pink yet? They’re the exact same.”

“Yeah, and I liked her. Past tense,” Robin emphasizes, returning to her rightful place beside you on the couch. She tosses an arm over the back and you drag yourself into the open space of her side.

Robin is warm while you shiver. Your skin is cold - like death. Like Aunt Shauna. She tries not to let it show and brings a family favorite throw blanket over the two of you.

Your eyes are already beginning to flutter shut and Robin can’t help but grin. There’s an adorable quality about you - no matter how tired or sick you look, there’s something in the air around you. Sunshine and bubblegum and a BFF necklace in the shape of a strawberry heart hidden beneath your shirt collar.

Robin checks the clock. The game isn’t for another two hours, she can let you sleep awhile.

But then you’re pawing at her shoulders, lips pouting and eyes pleading. The tactics you usually bulldoze through are now lathering thick over her like cement.

“What, uh,” she blanches, hands coming to entwine with yours, “what’re you doing?”

“Hm?” you simper, for real this time, “Playing.”

“Playing?” she quirks a brow.

You nod, leaning up to kiss her cheek again, but this time it’s different. No more friends and no more giggles. This is want.

Need.

You feel foggy, though. Like your actions aren’t yours and when you realize what’s coming, you also realize that they aren’t.

And when Robin’s caged beneath you on the couch, you’re entirely out of control.

The hunger is just a little too strong.

It’s need that makes you lean down - lips pressing to hers.

It’s want that makes her reciprocate.

Her hands are on your sides and you feel something burn at your skin. It's sparkling. Sensual and smooth. Robin keens into your lips and you feel a little better than before.

But Robin’s brows furrow and she pulls back.

She wants this, but it feels odd.

You don’t feel like you and this isn’t how she wants this to go down. But she also doesn’t want to outright reject you. So she settles for the middle.

A cowardly, stupid middle.

“Maybe not now,” she whispers, eyes avoiding yours.

You jump off of her and nod. You press your lips to gather the lasting taste of Robin’s watermelon chapstick, and you notice your lips are pillowy instead of rough. Your skin feels fuller. Firmer.

You think Robin notices by the way she stares at you. You look down at where you cut yourself removing that damned staple.

Completely healed.

“You can…” Robin clears her throat, “see him. If you want.”

You have to. You know that.

And rather than assume Robin is just conflicted, you accept this as rejection. Because what in God’s name would it be otherwise?

“Right,” you have a little under two hours until the game, “Right. Sure.”

“Sorry- “ Robin stands, hands outstretched for you when you begin walking away.

“It’s okay, Rob,” you pull on your shoes, head too full of thoughts about the next meal to even begin conceptualizing the fact that the girl you love is directly turning you away, “I’ll see you at the game.”

“See you at the game,” she wrings her hands, already regretting her decision, “Things don’t… they don’t have to change.”

“Yeah,” you pause before you leave, leaning over to press a cautious kiss to her cheek, “Bye, bye.”

“Bye,” she waves.

Why did she do that?

It felt wrong. Not the same kind of wrong in how it would if you had been high or drunk, but also not entirely different. It was like something was moving for you. She’s known you for a long time. She’s seen you - studied your movements and mannerisms and she knows how you behave.

She’s not being paranoid, there is something wrong and she’s convinced that the “nightmare” wasn’t a nightmare at all.

So why isn’t she stopping you from visiting Andy?

You wouldn’t hurt Andy. You’re a sweetheart, you wouldn’t. Bizarre happenings or not.

Robin doesn’t know what to do, so she calls Steve. Stupidly.

“What would you do if I told you someone was off?”

A few streets away, you’ve already got Andy on his knees at an abandoned construction site. You’re trying to think of things he’s said before. Things he’s done. Anything to justify this.

“Your girlfriend? Yeah, the whole group knows she’s been off her rocker lately.”

He’s pressing strangely kind kisses up your thigh as you wind a hand in his hair. It makes you salivate in sick and hunger all at once.

“She’s not my- ! Whatever, I’m just saying. I’m worried. I know we agreed that the Upside Down isn’t open but… I dunno. What if they were wrong?”

You kneel down to Andy’s level. You cup his cheeks in your hands - gentle and tender and loving. You bat your lashes and his lips quirk upwards.

“I guess. Maybe it took a new host?”

Your hands wretch his head. Sharp and quick. Prey shouldn’t suffer - it’s inhumane.

“Maybe. We shouldn’t mention this, huh?”

You feel disgusted. Just until your stomach growls and the hunger grows. No longer can you sustain yourself on watermelon kisses and sun-bleached hair and pretty freckles.

“Probably not. That sounds like a one-way ticket and I don’t think we’re ready to use it yet.”

There’s nothing you can think of. Not that you’re thinking while you eat. If you think while you eat then you have to present, and if you’re present while you eat - you think you might go completely mad.

“Right. I gotta go get ready for the game. I’ll talk to you later, Hair.”

Before he can get out a “don’t call me that!” Robin hangs up. There’s a dagger in her gut and she can only rub at the ache building behind her eyes - it’s overwhelming. It crashes over her - unlike the ocean as it fails to build. More like a firework, sudden and unforgiving. Bright. Loud.

It hurts.

Robin wanders to her room and tries to fight off the urge to check if her bat is there. She hasn’t looked out of fear. If it’s still missing…

She doesn’t even want to think about it, so she doesn’t. She thrives in blissful, selected ignorance. But a glance outside her bedroom window, still unclean of blood and split open, shows your car left on the curb. Abandoned. Not even the cherry charm you keep hanging on your rearview mirror is swinging. Completely untouched.

Robin, foolishly, saves her concerns until homecoming that night.

“Hey! Someone’s lookin’ better!”

You turn at the coo and smile sunshine bright at your favorite drug pusher, “Hey, Eds!” you wave him over with a pom-pom, “Thought games weren’t your thing?”

“They aren’t, but post-game athletes in need of recreational fun,” Eddie holds up his black lunchbox and jingles it in front of your face, “they are.”

Humming, you look over his shoulder to where the Hawkins band is lining up in front of the bleachers. Lips pressing and head tilting.

There should be enough time, and it’s not like you’ll have any fun with anybody else. Besides, if you go to prom with Eddie and Robin brings Steve - it’ll be a friendly reunion. A nice reunion. There should be enough time between feeds.

Your face falls.

Jason’s running around the gym. He asks basketball players, cheerleaders, teachers, band members, and stray students alike. Where’s Andy? Where’s Andy? Where’s Andy?

“Hey,” Eddie settles a hand on your shoulder, face gentle but prodding, “you good, bubble-brain?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, airy and tired, eyes fluttery, “Sorry. Just, uhm, worried. I guess. Nobody can find Andy.”

Eddie shrugs and purses his lips, as if he has no idea why that might be alarming, “Probably fucking off somewhere. ‘s gonna work out. He’ll be here.”

Robin bursts through the doors with Steve hot on her tail, she searches for something. Someone. You.

She grins despite the saran wrap bundled relationship you’re sharing and rushes to you. A keyring is looped around her finger, fitted with three keys - each one with a different fruit painted onto it - and a fluffy pink and white ball charm. Robin presses the keys into your chest, hand lingering just long enough for you to cage her hand there with yours.

Your heart thunders and you wonder if Robin can feel it. You wonder if she knows why.

“You left these at my house,” Robin mutters, eyes staying on your glossed lips just a little too long for a friend - for a girl, “along with your car,” her voice is a little raspier than usual, you like it, “You should really keep better track of your things.”

“Right, sorry,” you release her hand and hand the keys to Eddie, “I’ll pick it up tomorrow morning. I’m kinda… tired.”

“Of course,” Robin nods shortly, then takes you by the arm and drags you away from the boys, “Look, bunny, something is definitely up. And- and don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely…” she laughs, hollow, “I’m into you, that way. I like you, like, a lot. I think I’m crazy for you, actually. Just- I wanna get this all figured out before we start anything.”

Nothing will ever be figured out. Not really, anyway.

But you nod slowly because you don’t know how much longer you have to be with her like this.

“I get it, Rob,” you reach out and clench her hand, squeezing with a saccharine smile, “‘m still gonna flirt with you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grins, bottom lip tugging between her teeth.

You’re not dumb - lots of people think you are, but you aren’t. You know that the demon sleeping inside you was satiated by Robin’s touch and you now choose to keep that in your back pocket.

You’ve never gotten full off of mere touch, so the fact it happened with Robin will be a last-ditch effort. A just in case. For the worst scenario. You don’t want her in this more than she has to be. If she has to be at all.

You leave her side, prancing off to the line of cheerleaders in front of the bleachers.

Robin watches, face screwed in wonder. She’s not dumb, either. She can hear Jason asking where Andy is. She knows you were more than likely the last person to see him alive. She knows something’s wrong.

Upside Down host or not, you’re you now. That’s unmistakable.

She watches from the band section as you cheer with the others. It’s you. She can feel it. There are times where she can’t. Where she senses something else. Something off. Like a store-brand coffee or a cheap copy of a dress.

Sometimes it’s you. Sometimes it’s a mix. Sometimes, rarely, it’s that dread from before. When you were keeping her down, she felt it. Darker. Twisted. A thick rainstorm, a deathly hurricane that smothers the sunshine.

But now, as you cheer on the Tigers and subtly wave to her with your sparkly green-and-yellow pom-pom - she knows you’re you. Undeniably and absolutely revocably you.

...

“Thanks again, Eds,” you’re in Eddie’s passenger seat by the end of the night. Your feet kick up onto the dashboard and twirl the ring Robin gave you around your finger, “So, how much did you make tonight?”

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute,” Eddie pops you in the thigh with the back of his hand, “And I made a shitload. Haven’t counted it all yet, but - it was a lot. Not that you’re seeing any.”

“Aww,” you lean over the center console, pouting dramatically, “you’re so mean.”

“Go tell your girlfriend about it,” he smiles at you. Big and fake and dumb.

“Oh, you know what- “ you fold your arms, lashes narrowing at the metalhead. Then, your eyes go lax and hands fall into your lap, fingers now picking at a peeling edge of cotton candy tinted nails, “Do you really think she likes me?”

“You two are so oblivious.”

“Well, I mean, I know she does, it’s just…” you look out your window, watching trees skim past the skyline, “I dunno. Maybe it’s the childhood friends effect.”

“I’m gonna lose my mind,” Eddie shakes his head, eyes lingering on your side profile for just a second longer, “I feel like I’m listening to a bad rom-com,” when you stay silent, he sighs. Over-the-top and thoroughly done, “Even if it is the childhood friends effect, it’s still there, right? You two are still into each other.”

“Yeah.”

But for how long?

How long can you hold yourself together?

“Wanna go to prom?” your voice is a little too distant, a little too caught up in your own thoughts, “I mean, I’ll be with Robin, but we need someone to bring us and I figure you’re going anyway.”

You gesture to the backseat of the van where Eddie’s black, metal lunchbox has been tossed - originally onto the seat but it tumbled to the floor as soon as Eddie started driving. He should really get his driving under control.

“Wow, just call me a chariot next time,” Eddie mumbles, hands knocking on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the radio, “Sure, I’ll take you.”

“Great!” you punch the ceiling of his van, quickly earning yourself a glare that could kill, “Thanks a lot, Eds.”

“Mhm,” he slams to a stop in front of your house and holds up a fist, “Don’t get killed by whatever thing is hunting hot teenagers, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you hope your voice doesn’t shake too much, hope your giggle isn’t too nervous, “You either, ‘kay?”

When you bump your knuckles with his, Eddie then moves to twirl his hair - voice drawling up comically higher to supposedly mimic you, “‘kay!”

“Oh, get a hobby,” you roll your eyes and hop out of the van, “Drive safe!”

“Never!” he shouts through the window, honking twice and speeding away.

You jump at the sound and flip Eddie off as he drives, fully knowing he may not even see it.

A few streets away, Robin is laid back in her bed. Eyes on the ceiling. She feels like she could call. Surely, you’re home. But the idea makes her sick - so she shuts her eyes and lets the thought die.

Her room is so cold.

Grossly so.

Robin doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually, she falls into a fitful rest on top of her comforters. Cold and restless. Cold and unwelcome.

…

You’ve always been a firm believer that hell is just the day of prom. Over and over again. Even before recent developments that left you exhausted and drier than a bag of prunes without a good feed.

It’s a day chock full of last-minute promposals and athlete douchebags trying to somehow act too cool whilst begging you and your fellow cheerleaders to go with them. The begging is in subtext, but it happens nonetheless.

“You should probably skip that meeting with Ms. Moora,” Robin leans into you, watching as your gentle hands rub your temples, “Don’t look so good, bunny.”

“Yeah, I know,” you’re quiet, eyes scrunched at the volume of the cafeteria, “I feel like hell.”

Robin purses her lips, nodding while taking one of your hands and squeezing it, “Are you gonna be okay to drive?”

You sigh. Shrug.

“Yeah…”

You don’t have much of a choice.

Robin visibly cringes, “I dunno, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob,” you huff, ripping away your hand to cover your eyes, “Sorry. I just. I don’t feel good.”

“I figure,” she laughs dryly, the glee dropping from her face just as quickly as it’d arrived, “Sorry, I’m only worried. You’ve been acting really weird lately, and with the… you know, everything going on. I have a bad feeling.”

“I’m fine, Robin,” you groan and lean back, head tilting towards the ceiling, “Really.”

“But how do we know?”

“The only victims have been boys, right? That’s gotta mean something.”

“Well, yeah, but still. Don’t you care?”

“About a couple douchebag athlete dickheads getting ripped open? No, not really.”

Robin pulls back, eyes wide, “What?”

You pry your hands down from your face, giving the confused Robin a once over, “What?”

“Dude,” Robin shakes her head, “how could you say that?”

Robin wasn’t ever a fan of the Hawkins’ meatheads, but there’s something about the venom with which you said such a thing. The way you’re so apathetic. It’s not you.

“It’s just…” you toss your hands up, “boys! Stupid, asshole boys. What does it even matter? There are a thousand other jocks just like them.”

“Okay,” Robin guffaws in disbelief, “but this isn’t like you. They’re still people. You just… I don’t- “

“People change, Robin,” you rub your cheek and groan at how dry it feels, your stomach stinging with emptiness, “It’s totally not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” Robin furrows her brows at you, “I don’t like this change.”

“Well,” you stop yourself.

You cover your mouth as your brain finally catches up to what you just said. What the fuck did you just say?

“I don’t…” you blink, slow and tired, dazed and confused, “I’m sorry- I don’t know why I said that…” Robin leans down to lock eyes with you, taking your hands in hers, “Any of it. I don’t know why I said any of it.”

Robin cups your cheek, gently rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone, “I think you should have your parents call you out of school.”

Your cheeks are sullen and eyes sunken. You look dead.

Something in the back of Robin’s head whispers. Aunt Shauna.

“They’re both at work,” you run a hand over your face, frowning as you pull the hand away, “I could probably just leave now.”

“Will you be okay to drive?” you stand, pressing Robin down by the shoulders when she tries following.

“I can ask Eds, he doesn’t plan on coming back after his stupid lunch deals,” you nudge your head towards the Hellfire table - noticeably lacking in a boisterous leader.

“Alright,” Robin chews her bottom lip, reaching under the collar of her Jem and the Holograms T-shirt, “Hey.”

She holds up her half of a strawberry heart BFF necklace.

You smile, earnest but exasperated, and pull out your own half of the necklace - bending down to click it in place with hers.

“We’ll be okay, right?” Robin wants to go back.

Before your stupid band and before Sully Vacks got killed.

But you lie.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay,” you kiss her cheek, leaving it faintly red in your lipstick’s stain, “See ya.”

“See you later,” she can’t help but feel like there’s something missing.

Torn out and shredded.

You find Eddie at his infamous picnic table in the woods, finishing up a deal with Stacey Bennett. Excitedly, he waves you over.

“The queen of Hawkins High! How can I help you?”

“Can you give me a ride home on your way out?” you sit next to Eddie and plop your head on his shoulder, “I feel like slush.”

“Aw,” he pouts, packing up his lunchbox of drugs, “muck, even?”

“Mucus, actually,” you giggle when he gasps, apparently horrified.

“Alright, get her started for me,” Eddie hands over his keys, and you grin, jangling them as you skip off to his prized van.

Robin can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

It persists even as she gets a ride home from Steve. Even as she gets in her pantsuit for prom. Even as she applies her makeup. It burns, eating at the fraying edges of her brain. Or what’s left of it, at least.

A few streets away, you slam your window shut and shake your head at how long you must’ve left it open. No wonder your room is practically freezing cold. That’s it.

You turn back towards your open closet and pull down the dress you’d picked out with Robin mere days ago. It’s a salmon pink affair to go with her baby pink pantsuit. Eddie will be in his usual attire with the addition of a blazer and aggressively neon pink tie. You hear Steve bought a hideously Barbie pink suit because he lost a bet to Robin.

It’s a beautiful dress. Dips and hugs where you want it to - lacing on the skirt (which falls to your ankles perfectly).

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Absent eyes. Irritated skin. Lips chapped. You look ill. So unlike yourself that it’s hard to believe this face was ever yours. You can’t stop staring, though.

It’s odd.

It’s you.

You’re hungry.

Just to punctuate the damn thing, your stomach rumbles - your head feels light and for a split second, you can’t see. You stumble, one hand flying out to catch yourself on the vanity and the other clutching your dress.

You wish you never went to The Hideout.

You need to feed quickly. You don’t want to think about the people you’d be hurting. Your friends. Robin. Last time was too close a call, you can’t possibly risk it again.

A sharpness hits your gut like you’ve been pierced, you whine and fall to your knees. Your mouth runs dry and you can feel your muscles twitch.

You need to feed quickly.

Eddie had a crush on you last year - you know that. You feel bad because you like Eddie as a friend and want him happy, but that can never be you. Something inside you, though, can’t stop thinking about it.

The way he looked at you. How he’d bend over backwards for you. How he still lets you put your heel-clad feet on the dashboard of his van.

“Hey, pull up here,” you’ve got half of a BFF necklace pulled up to your chin, pressing the cold metal against your skin.

Eddie concedes, looking over at you, “Alright, bubble-brain, what’s going on up here?”

He pokes your temple twice before you catch his hand - he laughs when you glare.

“Wanna check out the abandoned pool house?” you nudge your head in the direction of the aforementioned pool house. Moss bitten and vine slathered. It’s cracking the higher you look and kids like to dare each other to go inside on Halloween.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Eddie rests his elbow on the center console, chin digging into the meat of his palm, “We sort of have somewhere to be.”

“So?” you lean forward, nose at his cheek, grinning when he flushes, “C’mon, there’s fun to be had before prom.”

He backs away, arms folding. He’s trying to smile like this is lighthearted, like he isn’t half considering it and half afraid of you laughing in his face.

“What about Robin?” his brows furrow. Tongue pressed to cheek.

“What about Robin?” you run the half-heart charm over your lip.

“No,” Eddie laughs again, but he’s breathless, “You- no. No way.”

“Eds,” you puff out your bottom lip, “Eds.”

“No,” he’s firmer this time, “Alright, we can check out the pool house, but nothing is happening, do you understand? I don’t know what the fuck your problem is right now, but you’re being weird.”

“Nothing’s my problem,” you roll your eyes and hop out of his van, speaking before shutting the door, “Now, let’s go before we’re late.”

Eddie watches you cross the yard, you stop before the door and turn back to him. Calling and waving your hand impatiently. He reaches into his glove box and pulls out a walkie-talkie Dustin forced him to start carrying (not that he knows why, but when it comes to Henderson, it’s easier to simply go with it). He keys into the proper signal before calling out.

“Harrington? Come in, Harrington. I know you like dressing yourself up, but this is gonna be important.”

…

Robin looks at the walkie, then where Steve is still in his bathroom - eyes narrowed at his reflection and fingers burying in his hair every two seconds.

“Hello,” the ‘o’ is stretched out, “pretty boy, I’ve got serious shit going on.”

It’s Eddie. Robin might not be allowed to get into Steve’s shit, but this seems like a fine exception. So she grabs the walkie off Steve’s desk and tunes in.

“Eddie? It’s Robin, what’s going on?”

“Your girl is actin’ fucking weird. We’re stopped at the pool house. I think you two should hurry here before she decides to leave.”

Robin drops the walkie and darts out of Steve’s room. If she was thinking a little more clearly, a little less pressed for time, a little smarter - she would’ve dragged Steve to his car.

But she’s got that bad feeling and Eddie might be in trouble and you might be the cause.

She fucking knew she wasn’t paranoid. She knew something was wrong.

You were the last person to talk to Andy, and she knew that and she kept quiet because she didn’t want to be wrong. No, she wouldn’t have been wrong - she knows that now and she knew that then. She just didn’t want you getting caught.

There has to be something else. There’s no other option.

Her feet ache in the platformed dress shoes she stuffed herself into - but she doesn’t stop running. Her lungs are fucking burning and her legs are screaming at her to stop.

Something told her it was wrong. She saw you at the end of the hall - she saw you grab Sully’s sleeve and she could feel it when you trapped her against the couch. You looked like she’d never seen you - like you were twisted. Inverted and crushed and ground up and spat back out. No life. No warmth.

She should’ve listened to the whispers.

Aunt Shauna.

You’re not you. You’re not human.

…

“I’m telling you right now, bubble-brain, if you don’t let go - I might think you’re gonna try something.”

“Hm? And if I do?”

“I already told you, nothing’s happening.”

Your hands have found a place on Eddie’s sides, he can feel your nails through his layers of clothes. Your face pressed to his back.

“No fun,” you pout. Your stomach growls - stronger, louder, more vicious. You pry yourself away to clutch at your tummy, “God- fuck-!”

Eddie turns, eyes wide, “Are you…” his hands hover just above your shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry…” you collapse into his chest, forehead pressing into his neck, “So hungry, Eds. ‘m so weak. Can barely fight.”

“The hell’re you fighting?” he tries laughing, really tries, “I doubt it’s that serious, bubble-brain.”

“Can you help me?” your jaw feels loose. Hanging by a string of muscle, the bones detached. Tongue dry and numb and gut clenching, “You’re a good friend, right? You care about me? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course, we are,” he pulls you back by the shoulders and if you were just a little stronger then maybe you could’ve broken away like you did with Robin, “We can go eat right now. Where do you wanna go? I’ll use that game money to buy you anything you want.”

“Eddie…” you groan miserably, another growl and it rocks through you - a whole-body spasm. You snap forward at the hips as you yelp in pain. It’s like having that stupid bowie knife locked and twisted and dragged through your stomach again and again and again.

Your hands come back up to his sides, beneath the overcoat. Fingertips skimming up his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” you bury your face into the crook of his neck, nails digging sharply into his ribs and keep sinking even when he grabs at you and tries pulling away. Even when he screams - even when he rushes you into the wall. You take it and you don’t know how much longer you can, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s desperation and agony and you don’t think you can live like this anymore.

You can’t justify this life - you want to stop but you’re too scared to die.

Or rather, too scared to find out what happens if you stop trying to drown out whatever thing inside you feeds on flesh. At least this way you control the meal. Somewhat.

But now you’re picking Eddie.

Eddie is your friend.

You scream as he does and you hope someone finds you two. You hope they shoot you through the back and pierce your blackened heart.

He bleeds.

“Bunny!”

You dart away from Eddie at the sound of her voice.

Not her. Anybody, sure. But not her. Not Robin. The only one who loves you instead of the cheerleading prom queen, the only one you love. She can’t see you like this.

Her sweet, rasped voice carries outside and you hide in a dark corner; Eddie collapses back into the wall with hisses of pain and Robin smashes through a cracked, spotted window.

Robin crashes in with glass scraping her knees, slicing through the legs of her clothes. Her eyes find you though - just like they do at every party and the cafeteria and friend get-together. She finds you. Under the grime and darkness, she sees you.

“Bunny,” one hand scrambles in hidden view while the other reaches out for you, “you can come out, sweetheart, come on out.”

You try. You move an inch before Eddie gurgles in pain and your stomach wretches.

It’s too much. Why did she ask before shooting?

It should’ve been Nancy that found you.

“Robin!” you wrench back, hands covering your ears and eyes clenched. Your back hits the wall and you slide down to your ass, “Robin, Robin, Robin- !”

Robin runs to you, her shaky hands try and steady on your shoulders, “It’s okay,” she laughs, hollow and dry, eyes heavy, “it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here, bunny.”

“I don’t like this,” you whimper, legs pulling up as close to your chest as possible, “I hate this- “ you gasp and sputter, a scream is building beneath the surface, “I’m not me.”

“You’re you,” she presses a kiss to your forehead and her arms come around your neck, “You’re you right now, right?”

You nod weakly, hands coming down and winding into her overcoat, “I’m me.”

“You’re okay, bunny,” she kisses your temple and gently pries you away from the wall. Your back is exposed, “Everything will be okay…”

You sniffle and bury your face into the crook of her neck, “Robin- I- I don’t know what to do…”

She nods. Silent. Because she knows that if she opens her mouth now, everything will come spilling out.

“Robin, what do I do?”

Robin’s face scrunches and she kisses your cheek, “I’ll take care of it, bunny. Just let me take care of it, ‘kay?”

You go lax in her arms, a smile - finally, a real smile - spreads over your lips and you hug yourself impossibly closer. Her voice, raspy and scratchy and comforting, lulls you in like a siren’s song. And you hurdle towards her song like a lovestruck pirate - you hurdle right towards the whirlpool.

And you drown.

Robin cringes when you screech, but she digs the glass deeper into your back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- !”

Your hands scramble to her shoulders and you push and push and push until you can finally squirm out of her arms. You fly back into the wall, nudging the glass deeper. Your head rocks back and thuds into the dirt-caked surface as you scream.

You yank the glass shard from your back and watch the blood glint in the moonlight that leaks through cracked windows. Your eyes hesitantly flutter to Robin and you hate what you’re met with.

Wide eyes and heaving chest. She’s terrified. Terrified of you.

Then you look at Eddie. Bleeding and writhing in pain. His eyes can barely stay open long enough to properly watch you.

What have you done?

What have you done?

You drop the glass shard and it shatters across the concrete floor.

You like Eddie. He’s a good friend and a sweet person - an angel right to his core. If there was no way to justify hunting Andy and Jason - how in God’s name could you do it now?

Your knees ache when they hit the floor - a pain that rings up your thighs and nestles into your pelvic bone. Your forehead rests on the cold stone, dangerously close to the glass and you feel your stomach tighten. It growls and you wrap your arms around yourself.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, head moving so your chin is on the floor and you’re staring right at Robin, “So, so hungry…”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Robin clatters forward, on her hands and knees, face lowering to yours, “You were full with me, right? Why didn’t you just come to me?”

Your lip wobbles and you can feel the budding fears rise to the surface.

Months pretending. Months wasted trying not to think about it. It’s not real. The missing posters, the blood you scrub away, the voice in the back of your head - none of it is real. The suffering, the hunger, the violence, all because some shitty metal band mistook you for their ethereal virgin. All because they wanted fame more than they valued their fellow man.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Rob…” your eyes burn and there are tears that drag down your face, “Didn’t wanna risk hurting you…”

“You wouldn’t,” she cups your face, brows furrowing, “We- “

Eddie comes to a stand, still leaning against the wall, still cupping his hands over his bleeding sides.

“We can go.”

You and Eddie both look at Robin, but her eyes are trained on you.

She can’t go through with it. Not you, she can’t lose you.

You’re sunshine and bubblegum and a BFF necklace in the shape of a strawberry heart hidden beneath a shirt collar. You’re her one. Her person. The burger to her fries. The Juliet to her Romeo.

“We can go, bunny,” her hands fret over your face and she lifts you onto your knees, “No more Hawkins.”

“What about the others?”

She shakes her head.

“What about Steve?”

Robin has said it herself. Her and Steve are Platonic soulmates with a capital ‘p’. She isn’t very sappy, but sometimes when it’s his birthday or is feeling especially emotional, she spills it all. To you, to Steve. To anybody who’ll listen.

If you’re her person, Steve is her schmuck. If you were to drop dead, Steve would be your eventual replacement. The mere step-bestie.

They’ve gone to war together, been interrogated and tortured together, almost died together. Steve is more than a brother, he’s the entire family.

Robin steels herself and tries to shrug off the weight she’s slinging over her shoulders as she says, “What about Steve? There’s a million people like him, but… but there’s only one you, bunny.”

You don’t believe her, and you can tell that she doesn’t even believe herself.

“I should’ve never gone to that fucking bar…” you heave, throat tight and stomach aching, “Those fuckers - Robbie - tried sacrificing me as a virgin and now I’m- “ you reach for Robin’s leg, thumb brushing over the exposed red lines of where she cut her knees on the glass, “I don’t know what I am, but it isn’t human.”

“Just stay with me,” Robin picks up your jaw, cradling your head tenderly and forcing you to lock eyes with her, “If I can help, I will. You feel full with me, so just be with me, bunny.”

“What if I hurt you?” you sniffle, eyes wet and body limp, “I can’t- “

“You won’t,” Robin kisses your cheek, “And if you do, we’ll deal with it together. You’re strong, bunny, you’re smart - I know you can handle this.”

Your turn towards Eddie, “He knows.”

Robin’s hands go to your shoulders, pulling you tight to herself, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. She stares at Eddie. Pleading and weak and uneasy.

“Munson, I know you haven’t been around for a lot of Hawkins’ shit like we have, and we’ll explain later - but just- “ her breathing is shaky, she shakes her head, “Please, this wasn’t her. I swear, this wasn’t her.”

Eddie is silent. It’s bizarre. He looks between the two of you.

He doesn’t know where to go. What to say. He wants the old you back, whenever you changed he doesn’t know but he wants you back. He doesn’t even know if that’s entirely possible. He doesn’t know what to say.

How does he laugh this off? How does he wave this away? This isn’t you mistakenly hitting a fence when he was trying to teach you how to drive. It’s more than you passing out on his bed after a late night. Bigger than accidentally missing Corroded Coffin’s gig at The Hideout.

Robin hugs you closer, “I know we’re not best friends, but you have to know - it’s Hawkins. She’s sick with whatever fucked up curse is here.”

Eddie stands up from the wall, he pulls his hands away from his side to inspect the blood there. He’ll live, most assuredly, but he doesn’t know how long it’ll take him to forgive this.

Should he forgive this?

His hand shakes as he points at you - past Robin and right at where you’re trying to hide, “I want an explanation… and- and answers for whatever Hawkins’ curse you’re talking about.”

“Will you keep quiet?” Robin’s trying so hard to sound like she has the power, but it’s all bravado she never mastered. She’s pleading. Begging.

You look at him now. Shaking and horrified. You don’t look like the girl he knows.

“Yeah,” so he submits, hands raising in surrender, “I’ll keep quiet.”

He slides back onto the ground and Robin turns your head to her, she smiles and you try to return it. You really, really do try. But you’re tired and you’re hungry and you want to disappear from his pool house. From the world where you’ve done what you have.

“You’re starving, huh, bunny?” Robin brushes a thumb over your bottom lip before kissing you, “We should take care of you.”

“Do you hate me?” you clutch at her despite the question, desperate to keep her close even if she does, “For the… for what I did…”

“No,” Robin kisses you again, hungrier, harder, “Not at all, bunny.”

Dare she say it, she loves you.

And one day, you’ll tell her you love her back.

“Come on,” she stands and you take her hand. She squeezes - your skin is warm. You’re you, “Let’s get you taken care of, bunny.”

You’re warm.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley oneshot #robin buckley fic #robin buckley #robin buckley x fem!reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #jennifer's body #jennifer's body au #eddie munson x platonic!reader #i want this out of my drafts so bad #i'm so sick

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 10

*Author’s note*

And here we are with the next chapter of Robin and Gale Hood guys. Now I’m thinking after I post up chap. 11 it’s either gonna be 2-3 more chapters after that idk I haven’t quite figured that part out yet, but hopefully soon I’ll have the next chapter up :) Also for King Richard I’m imagining a late 80′s early 90′s Roger Taylor look. 

Warnings: extreme swearing C word is used here (and no I’m not meaning the other word for balls or a rooster), attempted murder, severe injury.

Chapter 10,

Return of the King

Taglist:

@simonedk​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@queendeakyy​

@wormzteef​

@sparkleslightlyy​

@geek-and-proud​

_________________________________________________________

“It can’t be……” Robin muttered.

“But it is.” Little John said as a smile spread across his face.

“Uncle Richard!” Marian proclaimed.  All went quiet as the people cleared a path and slowly riding on top of his magnificent dark brown armored covered shire horse was King Richard himself.

Much like his son Prince James, king Richard was a handsome man. Piercing blue eyes that resembled the great ocean, hair still having a tint of blonde (but not as much as it did when he was younger), he wore a golden suit of armor with a lion crest at the center piece of his uniform, and a large sword sat at his side.

Looking at this middle aged man you could see that he was a true king.  There was just this regalness about him, like a true lion.

As he walked forward towards the gallows, the people of Nottingham all bowed before him, even the Sheriff’s guards bowed before him. When he reached the gallows, the Sheriff, Sir Heston and Prince John all stared at him in shock.

“Richard, I—I did not expect you to…….” Prince John started but Richard snarled as he pointed at him.

“I’ll deal with you later.”  Immediately Prince John coward to his knees as Richard’s eyes now turned to the Sheriff. “Now I ask again Sheriff, what is the meaning of all this?”

“A witch trial, your majesty.” He looked up towards his son who was protecting the so called ‘witch’ by shielding her with his own body.

“Were you willing to take my son along with her?”

“That was never my intention your majesty. I would never harm the future King.” The Sheriff tried to save his own hide by acting innocent.

King Richard spoke not a word as he dismounted from his horse onto the stage.  He walked past the Sheriff and stood before his son.  The two look-alikes stared at each other as Richard told his son.

“James, stand aside.”

“I won’t!”

“I know how you feel about these trials, but it is the law son.”

“I don’t care! She’s not a witch.”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

“Because this is the girl I fell in love with six years ago. The girl who’s always been on my mind even as you sent me away to London with Marian.” Richard’s eyes softly widened and he said.

“This is the girl? The one that broke your heart?”

“Yes. But that’s in the past now. Because I love her father.” All was silent in the village square.

“Your majesty. It’s clear that for six years your son has been under this witch’s spell, and…….” The Sheriff spoke into the King’s ear.

“Another word out of you and I’ll cut off your forked tongue!” Prince James threatened.

“How dare you speak to me……”

“And how dare you treat my son that way! Remember your place Sheriff!” The Sheriff backed off glaring at the young prince.

“Look around at what these two have done. They’ve oppressed the people and nearly killed an innocent woman without a proper trial. And she’s not just any ordinary woman. Her name is Gale Hood, sister of Robin Hood.”

James turned back towards Gale and pressed his forehead to hers as he wrapped his hand around the back of her head cradling it away from the stake.

“Together along with their friends, they’ve kept Nottingham from falling to ruins. Father would you willingly kill a hero of the people?” King Richard looked down at his people.

All of them looking up to their king, pleading for this execution to not happen.  He then turned to see his niece locked up in a cage along with Robin Hood and his band giving him the same look.  Finally he turned back to his son who held a fire in his eyes.  A fire that was passionate about his beliefs and words.

Much like his late wife Queen Dominque.

King Richard withdrew his sword.  Everyone waiting on bated breath on what would happen next, but to everyone’s surprise he held his sword in a surrender position.

“My son speaks with the wisdom beyond his years. When I returned to my kingdom I’ve seen anger and prejudice in my staff’s hearts. But he comes with courage and understanding. From this day forward; if there is to anymore killing, it will not start with my rein.” He placed his sword back into its saber.

He then turned to one of the guards down below and ordered him to release Gale and her friends as well as his niece.

The guard raced up and cut Gale from the stake and as soon as she was freed, James took her in his arms, spun her around and the two embraced each other tightly.  The people of Nottingham all cheered for the renouncing claim of Gale’s blood.

Prince John couldn’t believe this and neither could the Sheriff.

“Do something you fool!” whispered Prince John harshly. The Sheriff glared at the prince and said to one of his loyal guards.

“Shoot them all down.”

“No.” the man said.

“What?”

“With King Richard back, we no longer follow you.”

“You’re insane. I gave you this position! You follow and obey me!” but none of his guards obeyed him.  Only gathered around and dropped their bows at his feet.

Twitching his eye in anger he grabbed one of the crossbows and notched an arrow as he snarled.

“Fine. You won’t serve me so long as Richard is alive will you?” he aimed the crossbow right for King Richard’s head.

Gale looked towards the Sheriff and saw him getting ready to shoot at the King.  She immediately got out of James’ embrace and cried out.

“NOOO!!!” she pushed King Richard out of the way, taking the arrow just above her right breast.

“GALE!!!!” Robin called from the ground.  As Gale collapsed to the ground with the arrow in her chest, James knelt down beside her and held her in his arms.

The Sheriff’s eyes widened as one of his ex-guards snarled out.

“You shot the Prince’s love.”

“She-she stepped right…right into it. It was her own fault! Prince John! Heston! Tell them it wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I begged you not to kill her.” John shrugged nonchalantly.

“Prince James and Maid Marian were right all along!”

“We never should’ve believed either of you!”

“GET THEM!!” the three then tried to make a quick get away from the guards but all too quickly the people of Nottingham got to them and began to tear right through them angrily.

“UNHAND ME YOU FILTHY PEASANTS!!” the Sheriff exclaimed. He soon had the crossbow taken from him as Maid Marian stood over him and she proclaimed.

“Put them all in chains!”

“I’ll see you hanged for this you cunt!” the Sheriff growled.

“And sew this one’s mouth shut!” Marian said as amongst the people of Nottingham, the guards pulled the Sheriff away from Marian’s face.

Her pride soon turned back to fear as she raced up to join Robin, his friends, Arthur, James, Friar Tuck and her uncle up on the gallows to check on Gale.

Both James and Robin knelt down at Gale’s side each of them holding her hand.  Friar Tuck and King Richard knelt down beside her head.  Friar Tuck wiping her forehead as she kept hissing and groaning in pain.

“Sister, please just hold on. We’re going to get you help. Oh Friar Tuck please tell me she’ll be okay!” pleaded Robin.

“She’s a fighter, but I am no doctor Robin. All I can do is pray to the good Father that he’ll spare our beloved Gale.”

“Isn’t there any medical supplies your staff can use?” Little John asked.

“We have some but nothing that Gale needs. If we are to save her, she needs to go to London. There we might have a chance to save her.” Arthur said.

“Then prepare the royal carriages. Make sure we hook up the fastest horses we’ve got. There will be no stopping till we reach London.” King Richard said.

Within minutes the royal carriage was prepped and ready. Gale now lying on a small portable bedspread.  The blanket covering up her bare body so that the arrow was the only thing being shown.

James came up and knelt down beside his love and took her hand in his.  He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and he told her.

“You’re gonna be alright my love. I promise. Just stay awake for me.”

“I’ve had worse than this.” Gale told him before hissing in pain.

“Try not to speak so much my love.” Robin soon came up and walked towards them.  James kissed her hand before gently placing it down and walked away giving the two siblings some alone time.  Robin knelt down beside his sister and stroked her cheek.

“You are either the single bravest woman I’ve ever seen. Or the craziest.”

“I learned from the best, brother.” Gale grinned weakly. “Will—will you come with me?” at that point Robin’s face grew solemn.  He felt his sister’s hand touch his cheek and he said.

“Someone has to stay here and help rebuild Nottingham. Marian and I have elected to do just that.”

“Then……so will I.”

“No sister. You have to go to London.”

“But—but we promised each other we wouldn’t leave one another.” Gale said with tears in her eyes.

“And we never will. No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you. Just like you will with me. And—just like our mother always has.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sister’s forehead.

He lingered on the kiss till he finally separated from her. The two siblings looking at each other teary eyed, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time they ever see each other again.  As two of King Richard’s guards picked up the bed, Robin and Gale’s hands kept hold of each other till the distance finally forced them apart.

She was placed in the royal carriage with King Richard and Prince James.

“Godspeed Gale Hood.” Friar Tuck said as he gave his final prayer to Gale.  The curtains closed around the royal coach and the coachman urged the horses onward and in a cloud of dust, the royal coach rode out of Nottingham straight to London.

The royal escorts rode up front to show that this was a dire emergency and that anyone on the path ahead needed to clear the way for the King.

Inside the coach, James kept his hand intwined with Gale’s, stroking the back of it and giving it a kiss every now and then.  King Richard, who had been observing his son’s affections for the young female rouge, finally spoke to Gale.

“Answer me this child. Why did you take that arrow for me? Knowing you could die.”

“Father, Gale can’t……”

“I can speak James, just—not in so many words.” She then turned to the great King and replied. “People always do crazy things—when they’re in love.” Her eyes then shifted towards James who looked down at her with sad but loving eyes.  Tears pooling behind his green orbs as he pressed her hand against his cheek. Richard reached his hand out and gently placed it on top of Gale’s head, softly stroking through her raven black hair.

“You’ll get the finest medical treatment London has to offer. I swear to you. England, my son, and I owe you a great debt Gale Hood.” Gale smiled tiredly before feeling the fever starting to take affect on her as she soon passed out.

James’ heart suddenly stopped as he looked down at his beloved in fear.  He felt her forehead and winced at the sudden heat that radiated from her.

“She’s burning up father!” Richard reached for a bowl of water and a towel.

“Dab her lightly around her forehead and collarbone. It’ll have to do for now till we get to London.” James took the rag and wrung it out first before placing it onto her face.

“I can’t lose her. Not when I just got her back. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her again.” he wept as he continued to dab his beloved’s face with the damp cloth.  Richard stared at his son with empathy.

He knew what his son was going through because he once went through that when he lost his beloved Queen years ago.  That familiar feeling of heartbreak fearing that your soulmate will leave this world leaving you alone in this dark hell that was the living realm.  Leaving nothing but pain and heartbreak in the wake of their death.

“Step on it will yah! Gale’s fever is spiking and we don’t have much time! Double time!” Richard banged on the roof of the royal coach, crying out to the coachman.  He then turned to his son and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I can promise you this my son. We will do all that we can to save your beloved. But you have to be strong for not only yourself, but for her.”

“Yes father.” Richard pressed his forehead against his son’s and the two of them stayed in that position for a moment before turning their attention back to Gale.

It took almost an entire day but just a few hours before dawn, the royal escort finally arrived at the heart of London.  The horses charged through the gates of the castle that stood at the heart of the city and with no time to waste, Gale was brought in and taken to the medical wing.

She was now awake for a brief moment as a doctor was prepping to first remove the arrow from her chest before proceeding to heal the actual wound itself.

James was forced to wait outside because he vowed that he wouldn’t leave his love’s side for even a second.  Even if he was forbidden to enter the room, he still wanted to be there for Gale.

Inside the room, the doctor had candles lite all over the room so that he could have the perfect lighting for what he needed to do.  He first numbed the area with some oils and turned to Gale and said to her.

“The area’s sterilized. Now comes the hard and most agonizing part. Are you ready?” Gale nodded then the doctor took out a towel and Gale opened her mouth so that he could place the towel in her mouth to prevent her from getting lockjaw.  Gale’s chest anxiously rose and fell at a heavy pace as the doctor reached out for the arrow and took hold of it.

Soon all that could be heard was a muffled but agonizing scream.

James covered his mouth with his hand, feeling his love’s pain almost as if it were his own.  All he could hear was her agonizing screams and groans coming from the other side of the door.

As the sun began to rise, Gale’s screams and groans went silent.

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy #ben hardy fanfiction #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fanfiction #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagines #rami malek #rami malek imagine #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagines #rami malek fanfic #rami malek fanfiction #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee imagines #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee fanfiction #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #brian may #brian may x reader #John Deacon #john deacon x reader

[untitled5071]

Rules: name 7 comfort films and tag 7 people

Tagged by @ceasarslegion (Dames I would die for you)

I can't put them in order because I love them too too much but here goes nothing

1). Beetlejuice (Adam and Barbara my beloved)

2). Back to the Future (Marty is a Dumbass and I love him)

3). The Princess Bride (Buttercup is fucking gorgeous)

4). Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (I owe these boys so much)

5). How to Train your Dragon (First hyperfixation babey)

6). Disney's Robin Hood (It was my childhood favorite)

7). Rankin Bass' Jack Frost (I know it's a Christmas movie but I raise you; Jack Frost is baby)

Oh this was way harder than I wanted it to be, but here comes the tagging!

@blind-band-geek @quietw0rld @pennate-marauder @procrastin-8-or @moscow5 @annabeth715 @shakespearefreak

#this was fun tho #ive gotta watch these movies again damn #if this was musicals Starship wouldnhave been up there immediately

[eskawrites]

actually band geek robin is on my mind now and y’all have to just deal with that so

AU where Robin is drum major her senior year and Nancy starts the year not paying much mind to Steve’s co-worker/new best friend, but she can’t help but  notice how good Robin looks in front of the band with her little half-cape and her mace and seriously, Steve said she was uncoordinated, how does she look so smooth with that thing?

no upside down AU where Robin goes all Extreme Impassioned Speech on the school administration because they keep favoring sports over band. she basically starts waging a one-woman war to get better funding for the school’s arts programs. the kids start talking about that random senior girl like she’s a hero, which is how Nancy hears about it and decides to join forces with her. they may or may not break some rules to get access to the school’s financial records and possibly some blackmail material on different members of the board

a one-shot or something with Robin and Erica hanging out during all of Lucas’s games, and Lucas thinks they’re both only there because they have to be, but they’re actually really supportive of him

not a fic idea but Eddie pays Robin ten bucks to hide in the Hellfire room during a big exciting session against the bbeg, and no one else knows she’s there until Eddie describes the cry of the enemy army’s war horns, and suddenly she’s blaring her trumpet and scaring the shit out of the entire party

#listen...i love her #robin buckley #writing things #um also #ronance #band geek robin my beloved #last one for now i swear #OR IS IT

[eskawrites]

ur so right about robins high school band shenanigans. i want it to be revealed that actually robin has a secret double life and has all this insane band drama happening all off screen that none of the other characters know about. i want her to casually make an offhand comment abt like stephanie guthrie-from-band burning jacob swartz-from-band's music notes in the parkinglot of their local denny's at 4am. like "oh yeah thats big trombone steven who got into a fist fight with dave because he one time stuffed wet cheetos down his clarinet during practice"

this is basically canon to me lmao you can't be in band and not have a lot of secondhand drama. and tbh i think given that her primary group of friends has drama that's, like, my gf was raised in a secret government lab and i went missing in an alternate dimension for a week and my best friend was killed by a monster while i lost my virginity to a boy i didn't even really like that much, she'd probably get a lot of stress relief out of listening to band kids' still-wild-but-drastically-lower-stakes teen drama

(can you imagine if that ever came into play, though? like in the same vein of robin rambling about the girl on her soccer team getting hurt, she starts reeling off band room gossip and ends up unintentionally spilling some Plot Critical Fact about a classmate or teacher or something)

#asks #fishwear #band geek robin my beloved

[eskawrites]

you’ve heard about projecting gay feelings and trauma onto robin buckley, now get ready for projecting my small town high school band experience

#excerpts #thriving in the apocalypse #writing things #tbh...we need more robin in band takes #band geek robin my beloved

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The tale of Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 1

*Author’s note*

Okay so firs the gif has NOTHING to do with the story, that was just the 1st gif I saw out of the borhap gifs that was displayed. So this came after the success of my Disney Aladdin AU fic so I decided to do a Robin Hood fic, so as a little cast list for you all here’s what I’ve got. I’ll also update the cast list as each new character is introduced so that none of you get lost. Hope you all enjoy this little AU fic starring our beloved Borhap cast.

Also on a side note, any italics written like this signifies a change in narration where the character of Alan O’Dale speaks his own narration verses what I’ll be writing.

Robin Hood: Rami Malek

Little John: Joe Mazzello

Prince John: Paul Prenter

Sir Heston: voiced by Allen Leech

King Richard (mentioned): Roger Taylor.

Alan O’Dale: Freddie Mercury (think 1975 version of Freddie)

Chapter 1,

Robin Hood and Little John

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@wormzteef​

@geek-and-proud​

_____________________________________________________________

The legend of Robin Hood.  Ahhh yes, that handsome rouge who robbed the rich to feed the poor, who led a band of Merry men and made their home in Sherwood Forest.  But there is more to the tale than meets the eye, and more people were involved in his rise to fame and glory.  Like me.

Oi I’m over here, the handsome black-haired devil with the harp. Yes hello there my darlings. The name’s Alan O’Dale, and I am a minstrel.  That’s an early day folk singer, I go about parading songs from town to town, kingdom to kingdom about brave knights, fierce battles, and of course my favorite stories, love stories.

And do I have two of the best love stories to share with you lovely darlings.  Thankfully it all takes place at the same time so I don’t need to run my mouth on for very long.  Anyways let’s first open our tale up to two dashing young men walking through the forest.

Two of the best friends anyone could ever ask for.  These two young men were known other than Robin Hood and Little John.  Now it didn’t start it off that way at first, those two chuckleheads always kept crossing each other’s paths as children and constantly argued and fought over territory, women, you name it.

But when they reached their late teens, Robin was one day captured by the despicable, ugly, and revolting Sheriff of Nottingham.  Fortunately with the help of an additional 3rd party, Robin was saved from the hangman’s noose and from then on, Robin and Little John were the best of friends. You don’t believe me, let me sing you a little something.  

Tuning the harp, Freddie then begins to play an uplifting little tune as he begins to sing.

Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say Reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water They were drinkin', they just guzzled it down Never dreamin' that a schemin' sheriff and his posse Was a-watchin' them an' gatherin' around

Robin Hood and Little John runnin' through the forest Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees an' tryin' to get away Contemplatin' nothin' but escape an' fin'lly makin' it Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Deep in the forest on top of a tree there hid two young men in their mid to late-20’s.  One was a pale white man with long shoulder length auburn brown hair.  His eyes were a mixed brownish-green and he was a handsome young man.

The man beside him was around the same age, if not slightly older and had skin that almost seemed to be kissed by the sun.  His eyes were an intense blue color that could almost hypnotize you and at the same time make you feel relaxed.  His short jet black hair topped off his head.

Together the two of them wore a similar green and brown clothes. Similar to a ranger’s outfit.  Fit to camouflage them within the forest terrain, but also enough layers to keep them warm from the elements be it rain, sleet, snow and hail.

The two young men watched as the Sheriff of Nottingham and his men gave up on the search after losing them and retreating back to the city. Once they fled the forest, the two men threw themselves back against the top of the tree branches and laughed their heads off.

“Ohh we sure showed those clowns who the real woodsmen are!” boasted Little John.

“Indeed we have Little John.” It was then Little John saw on top of his friend’s and boss’ famed yellow hat an arrow sticking right through it.

“I wouldn’t be too quick to boast my friend. Take a look at your hat. She’ll not be pleased to see that.” Robin picked his hat up and his eyes widened in surprise and he said as he took the arrow out and fiddled with the newly made hole in his hat.

“Hello. This one had my name on it didn’t it? They’re getting better you know.” He placed his hat back on top of his head. “You’ve got to admit it, they are getting better.”

“Yeah. And when that day comes the Sheriff will have a rope hanging around our necks.” Little John said gravely.  He then mimed out a hanging as he proceeded to make a brief choking sound.  “It’ll be hard to laugh hanging there Robin.”

“Ha! The Sheriff and his whole posse couldn’t lift you off the ground. En Garde!” he then flicked the arrow right at Little John which went through his own smaller green hat.

“Oi watch it you bastard that’s the only hat she made for me!” Little John exclaimed as he took his hat off the arrow.

“Oh come along my friend. If she can patch mine up a hundred times, she’ll patch yours up as well. At least she won’t kill you for it.” Robin said nonchalantly as he leaned up against the trunk of the tree.

“You know something Robin I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking that’s a first.” Robin teased.  Little John glared at his friend before saying.

“I’m serious here. Are we good guys or bad guys? I mean our famed mantra of robbing the rich to feed the poor.”

“‘Rob?’” Robin tsked. “That’s a naughty word we never rob. We just—sorta borrow a bit from those you can afford it.”

“Borrow?” Little John chuckled. “Then we truly are in deep debt.” Before Robin could say another word, from the distance the sound of trumpets rang out.

He climbed a few feet higher up the tree till he reached the very top of it.  He could hear the whole ensemble of a band playing in the distance and he chuckled softly.

“Sounds like another collection day for the poor eh Johnny me boy?”

“Yeah. Sweet charity. So, what’s the plan this time my friend?” Robin slid down the trunk to meet back with Little John and together he laid out the plan.

Just a few miles along a dirt road, the royal ensemble was walking through the forest.  The royal band played an up-tempo beat, walking behind them was the royal guard all dressed in their armor and holding their spears.

Some of the guards even carried a very large treasure chest which held the taxes throughout all of England.  Then shortly behind the guards was the royal coach of pure gold, and inside it was the vile, selfish, arrogant, man-child that was Prince John, the younger half-brother of the great King Richard.

An Irish bastard’s son.  Who claimed right to the throne of England after his mother who was Queen. He was inside his coach happily running his hands through all the gold he had collected from the people as he boastfully cheered.

“Taxes! Taxes! Beautiful, lovely taxes!”

“Sire. You have an absolutely skill for encouraging contributions from the poor.” His talking albino python that he had named Sir Heston. He had Heston ever since he found him as a egg abandoned in the woods.  With the help of some magic from the faes, Prince John gave his pet human intelligence and the ability to speak.  And once he gained the throne, he allowed his snake to be his right hand man.

“The coin a phrase, my dear advisor. Rob the poor to feed the rich. Am I right?” The two of them laughed.  “Now tell me, what is the next stop Sir Heston?” Prince John asked as he held the crown of England in his hands.  Heston slithered over to the map and he hummed with interest.

“Why, the next stop is Nottingham sire.”

“Oh! The richest plum of them all. Nottingham.” Heston held a large mirror in his coils and held it up as Prince John placed the crown on top of his head and admired himself in the mirror.  The crown slid off down his face as Sir Heston spoke out.

“A perfect fit sire. Most becoming. You look regal, dignified, sincere, masterful, noble. Chival……”

“Now, now don’t. Don’t overdo it Heston.” Prince John scolded as he adjusted the crown to make it fit upon his head. “There. That does it. This crown gives me a feeling of power! Power!”

“And how well King Richard’s crown sits on your noble brow.”

“Yes indeed I—ah King Richard?!” Prince John first started off before snarling by the end.  Heston gulped and was soon choked by his master as he proclaimed again “I told you to never mention my bastard of a brother’s name!”

“A mere slip of the forked tongue your majesty.” Heston apologized. “But remember we were in this plot together. After all it was your idea that I hypnotize him…..”

“Yes. And send him off on that ridiculous crusade. Ah-ha! Ah-ha!” Prince John laughed along.

“Much to the sorrow of the Queen Mother.”

“Yes! Mother.” Prince John sobbed. “Mother always did like Richard best.” He muttered angrily before proceeding to suck his thumb.

“Your highness, please don’t do that. If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s undignified for a King to suck his thumb.” Heston said to him. He then slithered up to Prince John and his eyes began to shimmer and glow as he said in a low hiss, “Hypnotism can rid of your psychosis….so…..easily…..” Prince John began to slowly relax but he quickly snapped out of it.

“None of that! None of that!” he shouted at his snake advisor.

“Well I was only trying to help.” Heston said annoyed.

“Help. Help indeed. Now, now one more stunt like that Heston, and you will be walking to Nottingham.”

“Snakes don’t walk they slither. So there.” Heston muttered angrily as he slithered back onto his tree-like pole and lay there pouting.

Racing through the woods putting on their disguises was Little John in the lead.  He wore a long blood red gypsy dress that revealed his shoulders.  Once he got into the dress, he took out a few rings and placed them on his finger as well some anklets, earrings, and he quickly tied a purple sash around his waist to finish off the look.  

While behind him, Robin wore a long blue dress that was fit for an elderly woman and had a long black wig on.  He placed a couple of earrings on his ears and had a bandana tied to his head.

As the two of them stopped behind a tree, they saw the royal band coming in as well as the guards and the coach which held Prince John inside.

“Well this is a letdown. It’s only a circus. A peanut operation.”

“Peanuts? Why you dunce that’s the royal coach. It’s Prince John himself.” Robin snapped as his friend.

“Prince John. Alright you and her might be crazy enough to actually rob royalty but I am not having it. I’m gone!”

“What? And miss this chance to perform before royalty?” Robin said as he stepped in front of Little John. Quickly placing his hands over Little John’s fake breasts before backing off and doing a grand twirl of his blue dress.  Little John rolled his eyes as he sighed.

“Here he goes again.” They waited till the coach got closer before stepping out and waved their arms in the air trying to get the attention of the Prince.

“Oo-de-lally! Oo-de-lally! Fortune tellers!” Robin proclaimed masking his voice to sound like an elderly woman’s voice.

“Fortunes, forecasts, lucky charms!” Little John proclaimed making his voice go an octave higher to sound like a woman’s.

“Get the dose with your horoscope!” Robin called out again. Prince John pulled back the curtains hearing the proclamations of the two ‘women’.

“Fortune tellers, how exciting! Stop the coach.” He ordered the guards as the entire royal party stopped their marching.

“Sire, sire. They maybe bandits.” Sir Heston whispered to his master.

“Oh poppycock. Female bandits, what’s next? Rubbish.” Prince John scoffed.  He turned back to the two ladies who bowed before him and he said. “My dear ladies, you have my permission to kiss the royal hands. Whichever you like.” Both Robin and Little John stared wide-eyed once they saw the size of the jeweled rings that rested along the prince’s fingers.

“Hmm. Oh how gracious. And generous of you your majesty.” Robin said as he lowered his head to kiss the Prince’s left hand while sneaking off a ring from his tall finger.  Sir Heston who had seen the ring being taken whispered in Prince John’s ear.

“Sire! Did you see what…..”

“Stop! Stop hissing in my ear!” Prince John scolded as he rubbed his left ear.  Little John kissed right over the four rings on the prince’s right hand, secretly taking the jewels right off their encasement.  Heston began stammering in the Prince’s other ear which made the Prince proclaim and rub his other ear like he did his last one.

“Heston! You’ve hissed your last!” he took his python by the neck and slammed him into a basket before closing it and sitting on top of it. “Suspicious snake.” He hissed lowly.

“Masterfully done. Ehh your excellency. Now the fun can truly begin.” Robin tempted the Prince as he climbed into the coach with Prince John and closed the curtains.  He turned the lanterns down low and said to him, “Now close your eyes and concentrate.”

Prince John closed his eyes as Robin continued to tell him to close them tighter and not to peek.  He looked around the room until he found the pile of gold, he did a soft chuckle before chanting out.

“From the mists of time, I call forth ye spirits.” Outside the coach, Little John had a glass bowl tied to a string that was attached to a pole.

“Alright you little fireflies. Glow, glow.”

“We’re waiting!” Robin sung out.  That’s when Little John sent the bowl inside and he could hear Robin gasp. “Look sire! Look!”

When the prince opened his eyes, he saw three floating spirits within a crystal ball.  He was in pure awe as he said.

“Incredible. Floating spirits.” He went to touch the ball until he was slapped by Robin.  He chuckled a soft witchy cackle as he said.

“Naughty, naughty. You mustn’t touch young man.”

“Well how dare you strike the royal hand I—”

���Shh, shh, shh. You’ll break the spell just gaze into the crystal ball.” Robin took the ball with the fireflies and set it down on the table between him and the prince.  Robin then began chanting in an ancient Arabic tongue before letting out a gasp. “A face appears.”

The Prince immediately looks closer at the crystal ball intrigued.

“A crown sits on his noble brow.”

“A crown! Oo-de-lally how exciting!”

“His face is handsome, regal, majestic, loveable, a cuddly face.” From outside Little John heard all the comments Robin was laying on the Prince and could help but mime out a gag and roll his eyes.  Especially when the Prince began agreeing with everything that was said about him.

Robin then went for the treasure while the Prince was in his own head.  But as soon as he reached out his hand for the bag of gold, Heston who had found a weak spot on the basket poked his head out and actually struck out at Robin’s hand.

Biting his lip as he quickly retreated his hand to see it bleeding from the snake’s bite.  He let out a pained groaned which got the attention of the prince.

“Now what?” he asked impatiently.  Robin swallowed his pain and chuckled softly.

“I—I see your….illustrious name.”

“I know my name! Get on with it!” the Prince cried impatiently.

“Your name will go down, down, down in history of course!” Robin said as he struggled to take the bag of gold from Heston, who had it wrapped around his tail, but with a finally good tug, Robin managed to get the gold and send it towards Little John through the back curtains of the coach.

“Ahh! I knew it! I knew it! You hear that Heston!? Oh no you can’t he’s in the basket.” He then banged the side of the basket and said to his snake, “And-and-and don’t you forget it.”

Meanwhile outside, Little John slowly circled around the coach when he took notice of the solid gold hubcaps on the wheels of the coach.

“Hmm now that’s what I call pure gold hubcaps.” He looked around and stood in front of the back one and unscrewed it from the wheel and shoved it up the back of his dress.  He then moved over to the front on and did the same thing. “Oo-de-lally the jackpot.” He muttered softly as he eyed the royal treasure.

However it was completely surrounded and carried by guards.  Little John pondered for a bit but remembered a trick that he learned from a friend of his.

The one sure fire way to get a man’s attention away from their post.

He whistled out to the guards and when they turned and saw him, their mouths immediately dropped and their eyes widened.  He slowly and seductively untied the purple sash from his waist and began to do a seductive dance.

Shimming his shoulders and swaying his hips back and forth. Little John was light on his feet as he leaped and hopped about like a graceful deer.  He then skipped on over to the first guard who was just in awe.

Little John wrapped the purple sash around the guard’s neck pulling him in a little closer.  Close enough to kiss him.  But to tease him, he shoved the guard’s helmet over his face before retreating back and flaunted the guard, who was still hypnotized by Little John’s performance.

He twirled around before suddenly dropping down into a full split.  The guards now began to hoot and holler as they applauded, dropping the treasure. Little John then went up to another guard and took his spear out of his hands and jammed it into the ground.  

With the grace of a deer, Little John then began to spin and slid down the spear’s long pole before ending with a pose with his right leg high in the air and he winked at the guards who were now applauding and whistling.

“Ohh stop it. Stop it you boys are too much.” Little John spoke his woman voice.

“That was the best show we have ever seen.” Said one of the guards.

“Well gentleman. It was my pleasure to dance for you. But of course every bit of contribution helps. For you see I—oh I just can’t say it.”

“What is it?” asked another guard.

“No it’s—it’s too painful to speak about.” The guards feeling sympathetic for this beautiful woman all started speaking up and telling ‘her’ that they wanted to hear her story. “Well…..I wasn’t always like this. My husband was beating me, cheating me, then left me all alone with no money. That’s when I—I forced myself to flee even without a cent to my name. That’s when I found Ms. Olga, the elderly gypsy woman I came with. But even then we—we hardly get by with enough food for you see…..I found myself pregnant at the time I left.”

These men were falling for the story hook, line and sinker. It was then one of the guards took the treasure chest and slid it over to Little John.

“Please, take it all.” Little John gave the young guard a surprised look and he said.

“Oh no I couldn’t possibly take all this.”

“Please. My—my mum had to raise me on her own when my father left her. For you and your baby.”

“Ohh you sweet thing.” He stroked the side of the guard’s cheek and Little John dragged the royal chest away from the guards.

As he came around the corner of the carriage, he felt someone bump into him which knocked him over the chest.  He turned around and saw Robin wearing Prince John’s royal cape and surrounded by a bunch of gold pieces that had fallen out of a bag that lay on the ground.

“Nice robes your majesty.” Little John teased, his normal accent finally coming out.

“And what of you, you vulgar young hussy. I heard all the wolf whistles and cheering. I could hardly keep the Prince under my hypnosis to swipe his clothes and gold.”

“Never mind that. Just gather the gold and then help me with this.” Robin and Little John then worked together to put as much gold pieces back in the bag as possible.  Robin stuffed the bag into his dress then both he and Little John picked up the chess and quickly raced off.

Prince John who had woken up from his dazed state, saw the two gypsy women running away from the scene, the elderly woman wearing his robes. He looked down and saw that he was in his undergarments.

“ROBBED! I’VE BEEN ROBBED! HESTON! YOU’RE NEVER AROUND WHEN I NEED YOU!!” Heston slithered out of the basket and raised half his body length up and looked the prince up and down. “I’ve been robbed.” He choked out as he covered himself up.

“Of course you’ve been robbed!” Heston hissed.  Far in the forest, Robin was gleefully chanting as he and Little John made their escape with the royal treasure.

“AFTER THEM YOU FOOLS!” Prince John proclaimed.  The guards now realizing they had been tricked, immediately took off running.  The carriage soon began to chase after Robin and Little John, unfortunately due to the missing hubcaps, the wheels began to pop off which made Prince John hop out of his carriage and fall straight into the mud.

Leaving him stranded in the middle of the forest trail alone with Heston.  He sobbed as he pounding the ground whining like a child.

“I knew it. I knew this would happen. I tried to tell you but no, no you wouldn’t listen. You just have to—” when Heston realized that he had angered the Prince, he began stammering as he tried to warn the prince as he now held a very large mirror, “Seven years bad…..” he then had the mirror smashed onto his head. “Luck. That’s what that is. Besides, you just broke your mother’s mirror.”

“Ahhh! Mummy!” Prince John whined as he began to suck his thumb once again.  He took it out of his mouth as he said solemnly, “I’ve got a dirty thumb.”

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