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the-90s-music-colosseum · 5 months

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Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #lauryn hill #fugees #damon albarn #blur #90s music #tournament

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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

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Ok, LISTEN. I'm about half way through seven minuets in heaven pt.2, but because I'm working on it while watching season 2, I got SatoSugu on my mind. so...

Now Presenting...

A little SatoSugu themed supplementary material.

Ok, so let's start standard

Suguru is a psychology major with a minor in musical performance

Satoru is a theoretical physics major with no minor because "ew, minors."

Suguru joined the ABO frat because fraternity housing is wayyy fucking cheaper than living in the dorms. Plus, easy access to booze.

Gojo did it for the memes and cause his best friend was joining.

Suguru is for sure an alcoholic and in denial about it

Gojo smoked weed once and won't shut up about it. He does take a weak ass edible every once in awhile to sleep though.

Gojos tolerance is absolutely shit. Two shots and three puffs in and he is gone!

Suguru on the other hand could drink an entire bottle of tequila and smoke 12 joints and only really be kinda buzzed.

Suguru is definitely in denial about his bisexuality. Everything that he does with Gojo is just for female attention, ya know?

Especially when they're making out alone in their shared room. That's definitely for attention. Source:just trust me bro

Gojo is very comfortable in his pansexuality, and has been known to use "are you a frying pan? Cause you're so fucking hot" as a pickup line.

Ok, now for their background!

Suguru and Gojo actually grew up together, and are the closest anyone can get to childhood friends,

Which morphed into the well documented phenomenon of an all too intense friendship that blurs the line of friends and dating, where if one of them were the opposite gender they would totally be together, but because they’re both boys there using that as a shield to avoid confronting their identities beyond the default settings

They were each other's first kiss 💋

Gojo actually had really kind and loving parents who were very supportive.

Sugurus' mom died when he was young though, leaving him and his dad to struggle. His dad wasn't necessarily bad, but he did have to work constantly and therefore wasn't home often.

Gojo was naturally smart and school came very easy to him. Meanwhile, Suguru struggled a lot, specifically with anything math related.

This led to Gojo, with his great grades and generational wealth, being able to go to basically any college he wanted to.

He still decided to go to the local community College in the end, at least to get his gen-eds and the first few years of his major out of the way at a heavily discounted price.

Yea, Suguru had no such opportunity, his options were community College or to start working with his dad as a mechanic immediately.

And while he's not opposed to the idea of working with his father, and will even work with him for some extra spending money in the summers, he really wanted to give the whole higher education thing a shot.

He's very proud to be in his community College, as he's the first person in his family to even attempt to get a degree

Now, here's how they are in a relationship because you can't have just one.

These boys have historically shared everything: their hot wheels, their Xbox, their bed, and their women. You are no exception. Lucky you 💜💙

When it comes to the three of you together, you find the boys actually work extremely well as a unit.

Where one struggles, the other thrives. Gojo isn't great when it comes to emotional venting and stuff, always looking to "fix" it.

Suguru is better at actually listening and only offering advice when you ask. He’s always willing to just cuddle and listen.

Suguru is terrible to try and watch movies with, he gets bored so fast. Meanwhile Gojo is obsessed with movies.

Gojos fixer attitude also comes in clutch whenever you need to get something done, but just do not have it in you to do it. Need to call a doctor but have phone anxiety? Gojos your man.

Suguru craves to be the primary partner for both you and Gojo. Yes he's aware this is irrational, no he's not sure what to do about it. All he knows is that he gets jealous when he sees you with Gojo, and has to find ways to cope.

To his credit, he's never made this a problem for anyone other than himself, and he is actively working on it.

Gojo on the other hand fucking loves to see you and Suguru spending time together. Those are his two favorite people in the god damn world, aren't they cute?!

Sugurus love language is music. He'll make you playlists, old fashioned mix tapes, and has forced you to listen to vinyl with him. He's written songs about you too, though he's too shy to show them off.

Will play his guitar for you only when asked because he knows the optics of 'frat guy with a guitar' are not ideal.

Gojo shows his love by sharing his candy. Splitting a Kit Kat, giving you a handful of skittles, sharing a sleeve of oreos. If Gojo shares his sweets with you he wants to marry you.

They two of you bond by baking together. You buy new cute molds and cookware together and set up entire spreads based on one theme.

Suguru was probably the first one to be in your life: I.E. the one that you agreed to date before realizing (and agreeing to) the package deal.

But Gojo said I love you first. He feels everything at 100% and hides none of it.

He said it loudly and in front of the rest of the frat, showing you off to everyone.

When Suguru said it for the first time though, it was quiet; whispered to you late at night while you were curled up in his arms.

Both of the boys are massive cuddle bugs!

You call them Sugubear and Satotoro. Gojo loves it and Suguru does too, but he pretends he doesn't.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #suguru geto #satosugu #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #satosugu x reader

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mikrotyalm13 · 2 months

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hehe.. hehehehhe... heheheheh. some info bout xiao

hey there. 👁👁 where yo clothes at

Xiaolong/Xiao. about 200 years old/full height: 440 cm (14,4 ft), usual height: about 210 cm (6,8 ft)/naga/bisexual.

somewhat-normally-explained-background: Xiao most likely came from some respected family which he was extremely fed up with for a long time. neglectful family, strange formal events, lack of any personal life, all of that... so he stole a bunch of money from his father and ran away. he was forced to travel with humans, which is how he began to feel interest towards them. after that, he stopped in a nice, quiet little town, deciding to settle down in a local inn for a while. xiao quickly made friends with the owner of the place, an elderly woman, and soon started working there. old woman passed away, and he inherited the inn from her, which he runs to this day. basically, he wanted a quiet, calm and free life, which he achieved, even though now he's known as a seducer (this is marketing and he is just a really good host i swear).

xiao is very calm and laid-back, it's impossible to get him to argue (only in a playful or friendly way;)). even though he has employees, he still prefers to greet guests himself. but when colder times approach, he can often be seen napping behind the counter. curled up in his tail, in a chair or leaning against the counter itself. he usually wakes up to approaching footsteps faster than he is awakened. he may seem kinda lazy and unserious at first glance, but he's kind, gentle and caring.

- owns an inn with hot springs in a small town. the building itself is quite old, but he keeps it in good condition; - has a lot of piercings. to be exact: two in the bottom lip, ring in a left wing of his nose, four in his left ear, three in his right ear, and nipples. unfortunately, he can't get dick piercings bs his genitals are not out and about all the time; - takes pride in his absolutely gorgeous hair. it's not very thick, but very silky and soft. most of the time it's braided, and ends a little below his butt; - his only piece of real gold jewelry is his left, gold-plated fang; - the tail is heavy and strong, belly is yellow, the rest is black with flecks of pink and light yellow. has an almost pearly shimmering to his scales... very pretty and smooth...; - somewhat cold-blooded, does not experience brumation. but he'll never refuse some extra warmth, he loves hugs and any physical contact in general! if it's fall or winter and you're sleeping in one bed, he will wrap you in with his tail and will not let you go until afternoon; - even though he doesn't hibernate, with the onset of spring, the mating season affects him... well, quite noticeably. usually he will take a week off and lock himself in his room, but if he has a lover at the moment, he will avoid them with all his strength. because the process is long, he has two dicks, and if you'll really agree to everything, you both will be in his room for at least three days. you need to store some food and water for yourself, dear, bc you're not leaving.

#microtya's kids #art #my art #artists on tumblr #traditional art #traditional artwork #traditional drawing #traditional sketch #sketch #monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster lover #teratophillia #naga x human

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elliespassagerprincess · 7 months

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Omg if you’d be willing to do another boy genius song I loved the first one so much could you do cool about it it’s my favorite from them 🫶

Cool about it - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! I would love to do another boygenius one, I literally love them and thank you for the compliment! I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Cool about it by Boygenius, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to send one! you can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

HUGE Warning: mental illness, murder, descriptions of murder, gore, mentions of touching a body, a small description of a dead animal, and Ellie being unhinged (as per usual)

Summary: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

wc: 1.7k

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

When Ellie met you, she knew her life was going to change. Whether it was for better or for worse, she didn't care.

Dina recently came out as bisexual and according to her, she needed to "meet hot girls". She dragged Ellie to a local lesbian bar and Ellie hated every fucking second of it.

She wanted to go home so fucking bad. She wanted to sleep-

"hi"

Ellie's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice talking from behind her. The voice of an angel, she would describe it. That voice that changed her entire life, from that moment on.

Ellie turned her head to see you.

And yeah maybe coming to the bar that night wasn't such a bad idea.

The two of you talked for hours about how shitty your college is, you talked about how Ellie wanted a promotion at the Café she was currently working at. The two of you made fun of the bartenders neck tattoos.

It was a really a night to remember.

Ellie had gotten your number and she immediately asked you out on date. And you quickly said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? It's Ellie Williams.

You made Ellie feel like a fucking fool. You were making her do things she's never done before.

She showed up to the restaurant 2 hours early, so she could choose the best table, so she could make sure the area was safe.

Her palms were wet with sweat the closer as she watched the minutes go by as she was waiting for you.

Ellie's eyes lit up when you walked info the restaurant, the air in her lungs were knocked out as you walked towards her.

You were beautiful.

"Hi" you gave her a small smile before she got up to hug you. As Ellie wrapped her arms around you, the scent of your perfume overtook her senses.

The two of you fit together like a puzzle pieces.

The date was amazing. You talked like you had known each other for years, despite only knowing each other a week at that point in time.

As the evening came to an end you told Ellie something she didn't want to hear.

"Look I'm not looking for something serious, just casual hook ups that's all. No feelings attached"

"no feelings?" Ellie asked in shock

"Yeah" you replied. "Just be cool about it"

How could she be cool with only hooking up with the girl, she thought was her soulmate?

I came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

Ellie hoped that one day you'd call her and say that you regret only hooking up with her. She hoped that you'd tell her that you wanted more than sex.

But at this rate Ellie doesn't think that will happen.

You'd only call her when you were alone or bored, and Ellie being stupid and in love, always went.

She'd drop everything for you.

She knows this is toxic, being in love with someone you know will never fucking love you is bad.

But Ellie hoped this was a test.

She hoped you were testing her, testing her loyalty. It was unlikely, but she always had hope.

You were in Ellies mind, like a fucking plague. Like a fly that wouldn't go away.

Everything she looked at, everything she smelt or touched reminded her of you. And she was sick of it.

She saw you in her dream, and in her nightmares. Ellie saw you everywhere.

She already couldn't have you, now you were haunting her.

Is this some kind of joke? Did you ask a spell on her?

She'd beg the stars above to have mercy on her. To make her even forget about your existence entirely. But she couldn't.

You were there to stay. To haunt her. To mock her. Maybe one day she'll move on, but for now she has to deal with being with your side chick.

If only you'd given her a chance, you'd still be alive right now.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

"Ellie when last have you taken your medication?" Joel asked as he walked into Ellie's room.

Empty plates and cups littered the room as he saw a few bugs run around.

Ellie's head snapped towards the door when she heard him talk.

"Ellie you know you need it" Joel tried talking with her again

"I dont"

"you'll hurt someone if you don't drink it" he tried reasoning with her

"I'm fine, I won't hurt anyone"

"don't lie Ellie"

"Joel get the fuck out" and with a sigh Joel left the room.

"I need to get into her mind" Ellie spoke aloud even though there was no one there.

"She left me Barry... why would she leave me for her?"

She needed to know why you didn't want her. She needed to know why you chose some blonde bitch over her.

She was cool with the arrangement that the two of you had. Strictly sex and nothing else. She got to see you, she got to spend time with you, but now that you have someone else.

You stopped seeing her.

What made Abby so special, that you could commit to her and not to Ellie? What was wrong with her?

"What can we do?"

"Hurt her? No that's not nice Barry" she told him.

"Wait so you're saying if we kill her no one will touch her?" She asked him.

"If she says no i'll hurt her...yeah thanks Barry"

Ellie excitedly got up from her bed as she reached out to grab her phone. She quickly texted you asking you to come over because the two of you had to talk about something important.

You said you'd be there in an hour and grin spread across Ellie's face.

Joel had left the house to go to see Ellie's therapist. He was very fucking concerned and he was afraid for his own safety.

Joel knew there was something wrong with Ellie since she was 5 years old.

She was playing out in the garden, before Joel called her in a for dinner. But Ellie excitedly told him "come look, I made a friend!"

With smile Joel walked out, but his smile was soon overcome with pure horror and shock.

Blood littered the grass a squirrel lay there cut in half.

Joel turned to Ellie as she looked at him with a big smile.

"Barry made me do it!"

Therapy session after therapy session, but yet no one knew why a 5 year old was killing animals.

They told Joel he was being overdramatic, that she was just acting out. But the older Ellie grew, the more violent her acts became.

She killed animals, she hurt her friends. She wasn't a kid acting out, she was a girl with a serious problem.

They gave her medication, to keep whoever Barry was quite. Without barry Ellie lived a happy life. A peaceful life.

But now, because of you, for the first time in years, she heard Barry talk to her again.

Barry always knew best in Ellie's eyes.

Ellie quickly cleaned the living room, before she hopped into the shower. All you needed to do was say yes, and she wouldn't hurt you.

Just say yes.

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

"please give me one chance" Ellie begged.

She watched you lower your heard as you let out a sigh.

"Ellie I can't, you know I don't feel the same way"

"Please try" she begged.

She hoped you would say yes. She didn't want to hurt you. You would be ok, you would walk out of here alive if only you said yes to her.

The love Ellie had for you was killing her. It felt like she was drowning.

Either you let her love you or she'd make sure nobody would ever love you again.

Ellie felt the cold blade of the knife dig into her back. She had hid the knife behind the chair she was sitting at and all she wanted was for you to say yes.

She needed you to just give her a chance and everybody would be happy. Everybody would be safe and you would leave alive.

"Ellie I said no"

Ellie's eye slightly twitched as she took a deep breathe. She closed her eyes lowering her head into her hands.

why didn't you just say yes?

She got up grabbing the knife, hiding it behind her back as she made her way towards you.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie looked at you and said "you should've said yes"

You looked at Ellie as she towered over you, you opened your mouth to say something but you suddenly felt something cold in your shoulder.

You looked to your seeing there was a knife, with eyes wide you looked back at Ellie as you let out a whimper.

"Why?" You asked her, as you felt the unbearable pain in your shoulder.

"you should've said yes" Ellie repeated, as she removed the blade from your shoulder.

You let out a cry, when the blade was pulled from your shoulder.

You tried moving away from Ellie, but she was bigger than you and much stronger. You had nowhere to run and all you could do was accept your fate.

Ellie brought the knife down as she stabbed you in the stomach.

"You should've said yes" she repeated.

The knife was pulled from my stomach, and she slashed your left cheek.

"You should've said yes"

She brought the knife directly into your eye socket.

"You should've said yes" she repeated as she slit your throat.

"You should've said yes" Ellie yelled as she repeatedly brought the knife down, stabbing you all over your body.

Blood spattered everywhere, and there wasn't an inch of your skin that was left uncut or without blood.

The last words you ever heard that day was "you should've said yes"

maybe you should have.

Ellie threw the knife somewhere in the room as heavy breathes left her mouth. Ellie looked down at your body, with a small smile on your face.

"We did it", she muttered to herself.

Ellie gently placed your still warm, and still bleeding body onto the floor, before she got onto her knees to give you a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry I hurt you" she brought her hand up to wipe the blood from your lips.

"but it had to be done"

She lowered herself onto your chest. Ellie lay there cuddling with your dead body, she closed her eyes and she let out a hum of approval.

She's definitely has to thank Dina for taking her to that bar.

Authors note: well I've been posting everyday for the last 4 days and I'm so sorry for spamming, but I have so many requests and I'm trying to get everything done for yall. So just know for the next few days, I'll be feeling you with ALOT of content lmfao.Remember you are loved and to always be kind. I love you all.

Yours truly,

Zia:)

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buddhamethods · 4 months

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10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

#tag game #bake me please #bake me please the series #not me #not me the series #never let me go #never let me go the series #my dear gangster oppa #my dear gangster oppa the series #moonlight chicken #history 3: make our days count #pit babe #pit babe the series #love mechanics #tonhon chonlatee #love in the air #love in the air the series #blacked out and tagged every show oops

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midnightdelights-if · 2 years

Text

[Midnight Delights]

Genre(s): Modern/Low Fantasy

Rating: 18+ for explicit depictions of violence, blood, and death, discussions of torture, kidnapping, sexual content (optional), mentions of past child abuse, xenophobia (between supernaturals and humans), one or two instances of sexism and classism, body horror, gore, and explicit language.

Link(s): DEMO (TBA) | PINTEREST

Asks: All types of asks are welcome (including explicit asks which will be tagged as midnightsins).

Disclaimer: this IF is based off of a book series called The Morganville Vampires.

Other IF account: @kaiwrites-if

WELCOME TO ALOISWICK!

THE TOWN WHERE ALL YOUR TROUBLES ARE

DRAINED AWAY

You play as a Divine, a child of a blessed line. Ancient blood runs through your veins, granting you mastery over life and death. Trained from a young age to slay the supernatural, you’ve often found yourself wondering if there’s more to life than the hand that you’ve been dealt.

Fortunately, most creatures are few and far between these days, and you, the ever reluctant destroyer, have finally been granted the chance to finish your physics doctorate at the university of Aloiswick, a town in the middle of nowhere, Aotearoa, New Zealand.

What you weren’t expecting were the three housemates who were completely incapable of staying out of trouble, nor were you expecting that the sleepy, run-down town that you now temporarily called your base was actually home to the remnants of the vampire population.

If you're discovered, you'll be forced into a situation that you have no desire to be in. So you plan to lay low, finish your research, and go, but unfortunately, the universe has never been that kind to you.

Customisable MC (gender (cis + trans), pronouns, appearance, sexuality, height, body type, hair colour/length/style, eye colour(s), skin colour, scars, etc…)

Set skills include weapon mastery, hand-to-hand combat, high intelligence, basic mastery over elemental powers.

Non-traditional vampire lore.

Variations/flavour text depending on gender.

Six ROs to possibly romance. Two triad poly options available and one quad poly option. Options for platonic and QPR will also be available.

Found family.

Jace/Jade Cooper [Cis!M/Cis!F]

24 | 6’2ft | Bisexual | Based on: Shane Collins

With a hot temper, a charismatic attitude, and a degree in sarcasm, it’s no wonder that Jace/Jade has been branded the ‘local troublemaker and resident heartbreaker’. On the surface, they seem to take pride in their titles, but beneath that, is a cesspool of grief and survivors guilt. Due to this, Jace/Jade claims that they would do anything to protect their loved ones, and after baring witness to their brutal fighting style and near predatory instincts, you don’t doubt that.

Jace/Jade is not difficult to romance, and their route can either be fast or slow burn. They love fiercely and with all their heart, and they would do anything to protect you from harm.

[Character Page]

Aslan/Asena Kaminski/a [Cis!M/Cis!F]

25 | 5’10ft | Demiromantic, Bisexual | Based on: Michael Glass

Aslan/Asena seems like they have their life together. A nice house, a cushy job, and friends and family who love them. However, you are quickly coming to learn that even the seemingly sanest people have a deep routed darkness within them. Their elegant charm, calming presence, and knack for mediation allows you to feel comfortable and at home in company, but you can’t help but wonder if anyone truly knows Aslan/Asena, including themself.

Aslan/Asena is not difficult to romance, but their route is on the slower burn side. They are a complicated soul, but they will love you passionately and without regret.

[Character Page]

Shae Peters [NB]

24 | 5'7ft | Pansexual | Based on: Eve Rosser

If you looked up the definition of ‘bubbly’ in the dictionary, you would likely find a picture of Shae. Xe wears xyr heart upon xyr sleeve, and is one of the most genuinely sweet people that you’ve ever met. Although excitable and at times, a major drama queen(gn), when needed, Shae can be as cold-hearted as the rest. With a quiet anger to match Jace/Jade’s burning one, Shae is not someone to underestimate, especially when it comes to something as important as xyr families safety.

Shae is not difficult to romance, and xyr route can either be fast or slow burn. Falling in love with Shae feels natural, like it could have been something you were always meant to do.

[Character Page]

Eirian [Cis!M/Cis!F/NB]

200+ (27) | 6'4ft | Panromantic, Demisexual | Based on: Myrnin

Eirian is a mystery to all. As a pureblood vampire with a mind to rival that of the greats, ze could easily be a huge threat to Céléna’s reign. Lucky for them, Eirian has no desire to rule over anyone, and is content to stay in the background. For now. Unfortunately, ze is completely unpredictable, and with zir cheerful disposition, most never see the warning signs of an incoming decision change. Eirian also has a vicious territorial streak which can make zir unpredictability even more dangerous. However, for reasons you can’t fathom, ze seems to develop a soft spot for you right from your very first meeting.

Eirian is not necessarily difficult to romance, but zir route is slow burn. However, once you’re zirs, ze would defy the laws of reality in order to simply see you smile.

[Character Page]

Tarak/Talia [Trans!M/Trans!F]

300+ (40) | 5'8ft | Demiromantic, Demisexual | Based on: Oliver

When you first met them, they seemed laid-back and unassuming. Trustworthy even. It doesn’t take long for you to realise that there’s something not quite right about them though. Tarka/Talia is stoic and authoritative, and is constantly vying against Céléna for the chance to rule Aloiswick. Despite this, you wouldn’t class them as a bad person, especially not when you’ve seen them giving away free coffees and sandwiches to those who are less well off. Tarka/Talia might be ruthless, but they’re also kind, no matter how much they deny it.

Tarak/Talia is difficult to romance, but with their love comes a feeling of safety and warmth. They would defend you against all others.

[Character Page]

Céléna [NB-F]

900+ (25) | 5'1ft I Demiromantic, Asexual | Based on: Amelie

Cold, calculating, and powerful. A queen with almost a millennium of experience, and bodies, behind them and a willingness to sacrifice anything or anyone to protect their people, Céléna is not someone that you’d desire to have as an enemy. Which makes it all the more shocking when you see just how much she cares about Aloiswick and it’s people. So much so that it has almost destroyed her on several occasions. Is there more to this ice queen than you’ve been lead to believe?

Céléna is difficult to romance, but once you have their love, you will never want for anything again. She would give you everything she was capable of.

[Character Page]

Poly options: A/Shae (triad), J/Eirian (triad), & J/A/Shae (quad).

#midnight delights #interactive fiction #interactive novel #if wip #cog wip

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eds6ngel · 9 months

Note

beth!!! I saw your post about Robin finding out that the reader is bisexual, do you think you could do the same except put Eddie in Robin's place??? sorry if i misspell a word, english is not my language 😅

of course i can honey!! and by the way, your english is great <33

warnings: fem!reader. pre-established relationship. pet names. swearing. mentions of homophobia. eddie being an ally. coming out. one mention of sex. comfort. fluff. both r and eddie are 20 [0.9k].

You and Eddie had been together since your junior year. You were both pathetically in love with each other, extremely open and no conversation was ever off the table. Which meant you allowed Eddie to talk about girls he found attractive, whether that be out in public or through the form of a celebrity. You trusted him with your life that he would never leave you, and coming up to three years going strong, it seemed that you were correct to make that assumption.

Eddie was on his third attempt of senior year, him afraid that his inability to grasp the education system would encourage you to leave him, but you did the exact opposite. You loved him to pieces, no amount of the flawed academic structure would change your mind about that. Even you didn’t take the formal route of college, your dream of becoming a writer meaning that no amount of student debt would improve the skills you had built up in your life. And Eddie supported your career choice, you spending your free time working on your latest book whilst working at a local bakery to help the Munsons pay their bills, you moving in with them shortly after you graduated high school.

However, there’s one topic that never got brought up, because in all honesty, you never thought it needed to be. You had been struggling to grasp your sexuality since you were a child, constantly flicking back and forth between men and women, society pressuring you to choose one, even if one of the options got you berated.

Luckily one day, you came across the term bisexuality, liking men and women, and everything fell into place. But, when Eddie would point out the hot women on the TV screen, you couldn’t help but shrivel up in your seat, knowing that you too found them attractive in the same way he did, not just in an admirable way like he assumed.

The constant agreements of “Mhmm, she’s pretty,” whenever Eddie would focus on Phoebe Cates would rip you apart, when on the inside you were screaming, “She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

So, when Eddie decided to rent out a movie called “Desert Hearts,” a story about a female New York professor who falls for another woman whilst staying on a ranch, your heart couldn’t help but flutter. You had an idea he was accepting, Eddie not making any fuss when two boys got outed as gay at Hawkins High, but this was your full confirmation that he had the same attitude towards gay men and gay women.

“I can’t believe this is what people have a problem with,” Eddie complains, “I mean, Back to the Future had Marty find his own mom hot, but suddenly two women falling in love is the worst thing in the world.”

“You don’t mind?” you ask, curled up to Eddie’s chest as he strokes your hair.

“Not only do I not mind sweetheart, I really don’t care,” he admits, “Like, why in the hell would I care if two women are kissing, or cuddling, or even sleeping together for that matter? It’s not my life, and personally… I get it. Like, women are hot, I understand.”

You slightly laugh, nibbling at your fingernails in nervousness as Eddie looks down at you, “Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, not at all… The complete opposite actually,” you purse your lips and frown, “Baby, can I tell you something?”

“Of course princess, anything you want.”

You sigh out, sitting up as you admit your deepest secret that you’ve ever kept hidden from him, “I like women too…”

He remains silent for a minute, letting out a quiet “Oh,” as you don’t look at each other, the both of you afraid of what the other will think. There’s one thing saying it, but when you are faced with it in reality, you can change your mind. You trusted Eddie with your life, but there was something inside of you afraid that, that could happen.

“Well… I’m proud of you for telling me sweetheart,” he says softly, “I can’t lie that after all these years, it does sting a little, but I hope you find the girl for you.”

You brows furrow in confusion, before you click on what you said, “Wait, baby, baby,” you shake your head, chuckling at your own words, a sense of embarrassment flooding your head, “I meant I like women too, as in, as well as men.”

“Oh,” he exclaims, breathing out and letting his head fall into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your middle as he laughs, yours playing with the hairs at the back of his head. “Jesus fucking Christ sweetheart, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

He lifts his head up, you placing your hands on his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” you quietly say, “But, yeah… That’s not a problem… is it?”

He lifts his eyebrows and snorts, “You still like men, you still like me, so… I think we’re okay,” he smiles, chuckling and leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, one that you gladly return.

“But…” he starts, “You know… if you really are just exclusively into women, you can tell me. Will it hurt like a bitch? Yes. But, in all honesty babe, it’s probably the best way to get broken up with,” he softly laughs.

“I promise you, I find both men and women extremely attractive. And out of everyone in the world, you rank the top of that list,” you flirt, Eddie slightly blushing as he presses a kiss to your neck, hugging you once again, the pair of you separating to shift into your previous comfy position.

“Okay, but now I have to ask,” he says, “Phoebe Cates is hot, right?”

You grin up at him, biting your lip, “So fucking hot.”

this was a lil short one, but i hope you enjoyed regardless!! <33

#eds6ngel #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson x bisexual!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x bisexual reader #stranger things

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morvantmortuary · 7 months

Text

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

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waywardrose · 5 months

Text

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 24

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

5.6k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Idk if the Cali group arrives in Hawkins on Saturday or Sunday. I'm going with Saturday. If that's wrong, well, this fic isn't canon compliant anyway. Also, Unnamed Freak (aka Dave) has a canon name now with Flight of Icarus: Dougie. I've corrected this entire fic on all platforms. If I've missed a "Dave" somewhere, please tell me. 🖤

The phone rang, jolting you from your research. On reflex, you stretched across the spread of opened spell books for the phone on the nightstand. Then you remembered you weren’t at home. You sat on the bed in one of Steve’s guestrooms.

When he didn’t ask you to answer the phone, you straightened and found where you’d left off. The ringing ceased, then Steve’s voice drifted through the open door. At one time, it would’ve been an annoyance. Now, it reminded you that you weren’t alone. You had people who knew you for who you were and weren’t wary of your abilities.

Last night, Robin had stayed through dinner and Back to the Future. Working at Family Video had its perks, because there was a waitlist to rent it. Robin and Steve had talked through the entire movie, asking about you and sharing about themselves, but you hadn’t minded. You learned that ‘Scoops’ was Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream parlor. It must be a Midwestern chain, because you’d never heard of it.

Robin bragged Steve had slung so much ice cream, they had to put in special orders. Steve shrugged, all bravado, yet his flushed cheeks belied his cool demeanor.

“You should’ve seen some of the girls who came in,” Robin had said, face reverent. “They must’ve come from Fort Wayne or Indy—”

Eyes wide, Steve had interrupted. “Yeah, they weren’t local, that’s for sure.”

You’d glanced at him, then at Robin. He’d tried to divert the conversation. Maybe to protect her? That had made no sense until you remembered you were in the Midwest, where homosexuality — or even bisexual tendencies — was anathema.

To Robin, you asked with a sly look: “That hot, huh?”

“God, I could barely keep eye con—” She curled her lips between her teeth, but rallied. “I mean, they were, like, super intimidating.”

You grinned with a minute shake of your head.

“No, I get it. Girls are hot.”

“Yeah…” she breathed, eyes going glassy. “Girls are hot.”

The conversation had paused as George confronted Biff on screen. When George and Lorraine walked away together, you’d reached for your drink and glimpsed Steve holding Robin’s hand. He noticed you noticing and opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him with an understanding look.

“So, is there a girl at school you like?” you’d asked before taking a sip.

Robin glanced at Steve, who’d offered an encouraging shrug. She’d smiled, giddy and love-struck, and gushed about Vickie. According to Robin, she looked like Molly Ringwald, but even cuter. Vickie was talented and funny and smart. Steve insisted Vickie was into her despite what they’d seen at The War Zone. Robin waved it away, saying Vickie had a boyfriend. It was a lost cause. She’d pine from afar.

You’d said, “Well, not necessarily. She could be bi.”

“I don’t know? It doesn’t seem likely.” She’d gnawed on her bottom lip. “I would normally say that’s ridiculous, because this is Hawkins, but—” She gestured at herself.

You’d narrowed your eyes playfully.

“You could still win fair maiden’s heart.”

Steve laughed. “You sound like Munson.”

“What can I say? He’s rubbed off on me.”

Robin had snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s not the only thing he’s done.” You’d giggled even as your face heated. You grinned now thinking about it.

Knuckles rapped on the doorjamb. Steve stood in the doorway, the sleeves of his teal henley pushed up his forearms. His perfectly tousled hair framed his face, his jeans showed off the goods, and his Nikes were clean.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, lookin’ good.”

He put a hand on the back of his head and looked down as if bashful. Like he didn’t know how handsome he was.

You asked, “Going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, that was Nance on the phone. She wants to donate some stuff at the school, and I offered her a lift. I think I’m going to volunteer while I’m there, too. You know, whatever they need.”

“That’s…” You first thought ‘surprising,’ but that was insulting. “That’s really generous of you.” You glanced at your suitcase overflowing with clean laundry. “Actually, I bet I have a few things someone else could use.”

“Oh, wow, sure.” He nodded. “You wanna come with?” He waggled a hand. “I mean, I know you’re not ready, but I was going to call Robin and Dustin. See if they wanna join.”

“I want to, but I can’t. I need to heal Lucas and Max.” You gestured to all the opened books. “That’s what I’m researching.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

He pointed at his left eye.

“Wouldn’t everything be a little easier if you had both?”

“Probably, but Max is worse than I am, so…” You looked at the books. “I can manage.”

He surprised you a second time when he said, “It’s hard to take that ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’ advice, but you should consider it.”

You met his earnest eyes.

“I will.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. You should be the guinea pig before you sprung a healing spell on Lucas or Max. While you were certain a healing spell would never harm, that didn’t mean it would be effective.

Marking your place in the book you’d been reading, you eased off the bed. You knelt in front of your suitcase to pick out a few pairs of socks, a free promo t-shirt you wore when cleaning, and a pair of tartan trousers you hadn’t worn since moving.

There was more at home you’d be happy to donate. You realized you could drop in after healing Max to pick up more — as long as your parents hadn’t returned.

When Steve stopped at your door, you handed over the clothes and told him of your plan. He brightened with a nod. You jokingly assured him not all your clothes were black and scary.

He lifted the stack of clothes.

“Just most of them.”

You laughed as he smiled at you.

He stepped back and said he was leaving, adding he’d leave the spare key on the foyer console. You thanked him and wished him luck before he skipped down the stairs.

As the front door snicked closed, you plucked the book from the bed and found a white tea-candle in your magic supplies. After placing both on the en-suite bathroom counter, you flipped on the light. With a deep inhale, you found your center. Time to be a guinea pig. You opened the book and lit the candle.

Holding your fingertips above the flame, you said, “Magic mend as candle burns; Affliction end and health returns.”

You brought your warmed fingers to the dark, tender bruise on your jaw and repeated the chant. Your skin heated almost to the point of pain. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Tendrils of cooling energy twisted through your flesh. You shivered and breathed through it.

Once the tendrils dissipated, you opened your eyes and withdrew your fingers. The bruise was gone. You wiggled your jaw, then put pressure where the bruise had been to find it recovered. Like Jason had never punched you.

That was one injury — and the lesser of the two.

You slipped the pressure patch from your eye and examined your reflection. The cursed eye was like any other injury, you rationalized. Surgeons removed damaged bits of the eye all the time. You were no surgeon, of course. You weren’t removing damage; you were healing it. That was different.

You couldn’t psych yourself out, though. It was like making the Creel house go unnoticed on Thursday. Size didn’t matter. Hence, the extent of the injury didn’t matter. It was all the same and all connected. There was plenty of energy in the candle, in the spell, in the universe, and in you to heal this.

You took a few deep breaths before holding your fingertips above the flame and reciting the chant. You closed your eyes as warm energy gathered. You brought your fingers to your left eye, swallowed the mounting tension in your throat, and repeated the chant.

Your fingers went numb. Heat radiated from your eye like needles of fire. Lightning burned under your skin. The floor left your feet. Or your feet left the floor. You couldn’t find the counter. You couldn’t move or think or orient yourself.

You clawed at the dark like a panicked animal. Red flashed across your vision. Rotting vines slithered across every surface, growing thicker. Their musty, sour smell invaded your nose. Your heartbeat thundered through the room. Red flashed again. A figure made of sharp edges and pain moved behind the vines. You stepped back. They stepped back. You reached forward. They reached forward. You screamed at them. Their mouth opened as though mocking you.

You charged forward to thrust your hand between the vines. Your palm hit cold glass. You met the figure’s eyes. They were your own.

You stumbled away. Your back slammed into something hard. Each blink of your eyes tore you through different realities. The gray Upside Down, your sunny reality, glowing lava fields, a silent city made of slate, a world full of unvoiced secrets, neon lights and the scent of stale beer. Time curved in on itself. No future, no past. On and on it flowed until you yelled for it to stop, stop, stop.

The soft bathmat cushioned your calves. You held onto the counter edge with your forehead pressed against the wood cabinet. The side of your nose filled the left border of your vision.

The spell hadn’t worked.

“Shit.”

You hauled yourself to your knees and braced your elbows on the counter. Thin tracks of blood ran down your reflection’s left cheek.

“Shit.”

You stood and bent over the sink to examine closer in the mirror. The cursed eye didn’t look any worse. Its milky pupil and iris were the same as before. Rheumy blood flaked under your touch.

If the spell hadn’t worked for you, you doubted it would work for Max. She’d taken part of the curse, the same as you. Your eye wasn’t only injured. It stood to reason her arm wasn’t only broken. Then you remembered both her eyes looked like your left.

This was more complex than any healing spell could manage—

Which you said to Lucas after mending his swollen cheek and eye.

From behind him, Erica asked, “Can’t you kill this son of a bitch already?”

You glanced over her shoulder at Susan, who slept on the alcove couch.

“I don’t know if a spell would reach him.”

Lucas turned to Erica.

“And if she kills him, she could kill Max.”

You frowned.

“Why do you think that?”

“El said she couldn’t find Max,” he said, tapping his temple.

He’d explained when you’d first arrived the other members of the party were back in town. On Thursday, El had fought Vecna by connecting to Max’s mind, while Vecna was also connected to Max. El then said Vecna had roared in pain and disintegrated into smoke in his own mindscape. Nancy had connected that to her shooting him and Robin Molotov-ing him.

El had seen Max unconscious in Lucas’s arms afterwards. She felt Max’s steady heartbeat then. Max’s heart continued to beat, which the EKG confirmed. However, El entered Max’s mind this morning to find a void.

“You think she’s with Vecna?” you asked.

Erica said, “Or she’s brain-dead.”

Lucas’s face became a mask of absolute anguish.

“Harsh,” you said to her.

Erica shrugged in lieu of saying it was a possibility. It might be, but you didn’t want to give up hope just yet. Lucas returned to the bedside chair to page through The Talisman. There had to be something you could do or something you could offer.

Erica cursed under her breath and went to Susan. After Erica repeated Susan’s name and shook her shoulder numerous times, she woke with a grumble. Erica announced it was two o’clock. Susan blinked in sullen confusion. Erica said Susan had work at four.

Susan’s voice was hoarse when she said, “O-of course. Thank you.”

Erica backed away as Susan coughed with a wince and sat up. She sounded like shit. Her pallid face looked more tired than yesterday.

You asked, “Would you like some water?”

Her drowsy eyes settled on you.

“Oh, you’re back.” She couldn’t seem to muster a smile, but she looked pleased. “It’s good to see you.”

Without waiting for an answer, you went to the squat pitcher and disposable cups on the overbed table and poured her some cool water. Her hands trembled as she took the cup from you, but she managed drinking half the water in one go. That appeared to revive her, and you offered her more.

She nodded with a soft, “Yes, please.”

As you filled her cup, you thought of a quick blessing. She needed strength to see this situation through. For all you knew, she might be the key to bringing Max back, because despite what Erica said, you didn’t think Max was brain-dead.

By the time Susan finished the water, her green eyes had brightened. She stood, fluffed her hair, and straightened her rumpled clothes. She announced she was going back to the motel to shower and change before work, and if anything happened, to give her a call.

You, Lucas, and Erica promised. Susan nodded to herself and hooked her purse over her shoulder. She went to Max, righted one of her braids, and murmured something to her. She hesitated a second, taking a quick look around, before leaving the room.

You placed the pitcher on the overbed table and threw Susan’s cup in the bathroom wastebasket. The tense silence made you aware of every noise you made, from the swish of the wastebasket liner to the crinkle of your clothes and faint footsteps. Rhythmic squeaking of wheels came from the corridor.

Watching the EKG display, you thought of something you could do:

“I can look for Max, too. I don’t have El’s powers, of course, but Max and I, we’re connected.” You shook your head. “I… I might have a better chance of finding her or finding a clue to get her back.”

Lucas asked, “Are you sure?”

“What if Vecna’s got her, and he takes you?” Erica leaned her elbows on the overbed table. “Then we’re down a magic-user — and we need as many as we can get.”

“He can’t get me here. He tried before and he failed.”

“But you died.”

“And yet, here I am, talking to you.”

“Died.”

You threw out your hands. There was no arguing that fact. Yes, you had died. Yes, Vecna’s curse had killed you. Nevertheless, you were alive. Also, Vecna was wounded.

Lucas asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I don’t know? Connect with her somehow?”

You thought of psychometry. Through touch you’d seen Eddie’s past. Perhaps through touch you could see Max’s. If you could see when the curse hit her from her point of view, maybe that would show you how to get her back.

“Maybe I can’t communicate with her,” you said. “But I might be able to see how Vecna took her.”

“Then you could reverse his steps.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Lucas sighed in thought, tapping his fingers on the book. He came to a conclusion before looking at you.

“It’s worth a shot.”

Erica huffed in disapproval and retreated to the couch.

You propped a hip on the bed, facing Max. Her delicate fingers curled over the cast. You tucked your hand around them and closed your eye.

Unlike with Eddie, you didn’t have to tell Max to relax and trust you. You loosened your shoulders, breathing deep. You focused on her hand, the stillness of her fingers and the fine skin of her knuckles.

The room went cold. Ambient noise disappeared. The mattress sagged under your weight.

Max’s grip tightened.

You opened your eyes. The pressure patch was gone — as was Max’s cast. She stared at you through milky eyes in a younger face. Her now-smaller hand held fast to yours.

The world went wound-red and drained of life. Only you and she remained in the room. No leaves grew on the trees outside. A motionless, stormy sky hovered close. You were in a frozen, bloody version of your world, like a paused horror movie.

“I can’t sleep,” said Max.

“You’re sleeping in our world.”

“What? How?”

“This isn’t your world.”

“Am I dreaming?”

You hadn’t considered that. She could be dream-walking. If she were, why would she choose this? Why would she be younger?

You said, “I don’t know, but you need to leave this place.”

“You mean I need to wake up?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I can’t. I can’t switch back. I don’t know how.” She frowned. “Where’s El?”

“I don’t know.”

Instinct kept you from telling her El had been at the hospital to visit her earlier in the day. This younger Max could be an illusion. You could be talking to Vecna. Or Vecna could be listening.

“How did you get here?” you asked.

“I was fighting Vecna, and he threw me. Everything went dark.”

“And then?”

“And then I woke up in the goddamn Upside Down.”

You examined the room, noticing how much differed from what you’d seen through the tumbler.

“You sure this is the Upside Down?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s red, and where are the vines? The lightning? The demo-creatures?”

From nowhere, an invisible force pushed you backwards. Your foot skidded across the floor. You held onto Max’s hand. She bent forward to stay with you, then struggled to her knees. Your hip dropped off the crumbling mattress. You gripped the edge of the tattered sheets until they tore.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

“Don’t go!”

“I’m trying!”

But there was nothing to fight against.

You met her panicked gaze.

“We’ll find you! Wherever you are, we’ll find you!”

Your heel hit the floor. You lost your hold on Max’s hand. She screamed your name, crawling to the end of the bed. You pitched backwards, your heel the focal point. For a second, it felt like flying.

You landed hard on your side. Your ears rang. Like Dorothy landing in Oz, the world bloomed in technicolor. The pressure patch was back. Hands rolled you onto your back. Above you, Lucas and Erica blurred and sharpened. Their mouths moved, but their voices couldn’t overpower the ringing. You touched Lucas’s shoulder to confirm you’d returned.

The room dimmed. Shadows deepened. The three of you paused.

Red light flared through the window. Thunder vibrated the glass, restoring your hearing. You froze. You’d brought the Upside Down — or wherever you’d been — with you. Any second, those rotting vines would slither over the walls, the floor, Max’s bed.

Lucas helped you sit. Erica peered at the window on the other side of the bed. The clouds darkened further. When the vines didn’t appear, you used the bedframe to hoist yourself to your feet. Erica went to the window first, Lucas right behind her. You followed them, keeping to the shadows. You dared not look at any reflective surface, lest that sharp-edged figure look back.

Red lightning cut through the iron gray tower of smoke now spewing from the mega-gate’s nexus. Deafening thunder shook your bones. Warmth quaked in your gut a second later, silver and true. It filled the emptiness that had settled days ago.

Pitch black surrounded him. He lay on ice — or something like it. It curved around the back of his bare arms, cooled his body numb. So numb he couldn’t move. And he needed to move. There was work to do, someone to find, wrongs to right. Too much had gone wrong in the world. Too many injustices to name. He could make it right. He could help, gather, hunt.

Blood hung in the air. Screeches echoed through his mind, a hungry call for vengeance. Vines pulsed with wrath. The Source promised a righteous purpose larger than himself. The Source was a kindred soul: misunderstood, rejected, and enraged by the world’s hypocrisy. They were misfits together.

And there was no need to be frightened of anything anymore.

He searched the dark, his fingers not offering the answers he needed. He moved his legs and found the curve of the surface he lay on. Raising a foot, his toe bumped into something hard and smooth inches above. He let his heel fall as he walked his hands across the surface. He pulled it down his body. Whatever he was on moved instead.

He walked his hands above his head to find more of the same smooth surface. To his left were round protrusions, like bolts. Yes, he thought, bolts. Bolts meant hinges. Hinges were weak points.

More bolts were on the right. That was the hinge. The left was the handle. Handles were weak points, too.

He placed his palm on the handle bolts.

The Source said he could free himself. Something as mundane as this wouldn’t injure him.

He slammed the heel of his palm below the bolts. The handle rattled. He struck a second time. The handle whined. He struck again. The handle clanged in the background. He waited for someone to come investigate — police, a guard, even an assistant. He pushed the hatch open and waited a few minutes more. It was nominally brighter beyond, yet there was enough light to see he lay on a metal drawer.

He pulled himself through the portal. The drawer rumbled. Still, no one came. All around the portal were similar metal doors with chrome latch handles. He recognized it for the morgue it was.

He’d been dead. He was dead.

The Source contradicted the thought, saying everyone had mistaken him for dead. They’d not looked close enough. They’d abandoned him. They’d thrown him away. Only Source accepted him and had seen him for the valuable individual he’d always been.

He sat and scooted up the drawer to maneuver his legs out. The skin on his torso pulled. He looked down and gagged. Lines of black stitches or patches of missing flesh disfigured his chest and stomach. He touched the flap of skin on a patch on his right side. It should’ve hurt—

Nothing hurt.

He should’ve been cold. He’d been in a refrigerated box for who knows how long, but he wasn’t.

The Source assured him he was beyond pain.

His right calf and left thigh had been gnawed on, too. Someone had attempted to repair the damage with more black stitches. Those injuries didn’t pull like his torso.

That hardly mattered, though. He needed to leave— wherever the fuck he was. He needed clothes for that, because he was very, very naked. Making anything right usually required covering your ass.

He slipped off the drawer, landing on feet that didn’t feel like his own. His legs wobbled. Every wound protested as he straightened. The skin stretched little by little until he could stand.

A shelving unit stacked with linens stood by the main door. He found a scrub top and held it up. His bare hands felt as naked as the rest of him. That wasn’t how it should be. He only took off— No, he hadn’t taken off anything. He was supposed to see someone. They were waiting— No, no one was waiting for him. Everyone thought he was useless — and dead.

He was forgetting someone— No, they’d forgotten him. He touched his upper chest. Something should be there. They’d stolen something from him.

Yes, someone had taken something from them. He needed to find this person— No, wait for this person. They had an essential component in Source’s plan, and he had to capture it.

“Something’s changed,” you said.

“Uh, yeah,” said Lucas, pointing towards the window. “The Upside Down is invading Hawkins.”

You shook your head.

“No, I feel the pull of something.”

You didn’t want to say you felt the silver flame of Eddie’s energy for the first time in days. That sounded hokey even to yourself. If the emptiness — which had to have been Eddie — was filled, it meant Eddie was alive. You couldn’t desert him. You had to find him.

Erica said, “You can’t go now.”

Lucas nodded.

“The party doesn’t separate.”

“Even if it’s for a member of the party?”

“Who is it?”

“I think it’s Eddie.”

“What about Max?” he asked. “Did you find her?”

With a nod, you explained the paused, red world where Max couldn’t sleep. Max thought she was dreaming, but you weren’t sure it was her dream. You theorized it was an illusion to keep her stuck. There had to be something to get her unstuck. She wanted to switch back, but she didn’t know how.

“She exists in two worlds,” you said. “Her body in ours, her mind in another.”

“Or in Vecna’s mind.”

“We have to unite her,” said Erica.

“She asked where El was, but I didn’t tell her. Because I don’t know, and because I didn’t want Vecna finding out.” The pull of Eddie being alive nagged at your consciousness, and you shook your head. “Look, I can’t stay. I gotta find Eddie.” You grabbed your purse from where you’d left it by the door. “Guard Max. Hide her, if you have to.”

Erica and Lucas shared a look.

“We can do that,” he said.

You gave them a nod before leaving the room. Eddie’s energy drew you outside. Though you didn’t understand, you took the service stairs down. Hospital personnel pushed open doors and passed you on the stairs without questioning you.

While the first-floor corridors bustled with people and staff, a hushed tension overlaid every conversation. You swerved around anxious groups of two or three and the occasional thousand-yard-stare loner.

Outside, the scent of smoke and hot ozone had your eyes near burning and your nose on the verge of running. Ash fell like snow from the low ceiling of the clouds. It disappeared when it touched your skin.

You brought your shirt collar over your nose, then crossed the parking lot to your car. You stowed your purse in the trunk and pocketed the keys. There, you hesitated. If Eddie wasn’t in the hospital, he could be anywhere. Perhaps Wayne had identified him and took him to another hospital. However, there wasn’t another hospital in Hawkins. Maybe he was at a doctor’s office. His wounds might’ve looked worse than they were. That didn’t explain his absence from Indra’s net or his reappearance, though.

You turned to the path that led through the trees at the back of the parking lot. Except for funeral homes, only the hospital and coroner’s office could store dead bodies. If Eddie was in a funeral home, word about it would’ve been everywhere by now.

His energy wasn’t far, yet it was muddled, like poor reception on a TV. You tried getting more of a read on him. Pain lit your nerves, making you back off. You pressed your shirt over the bridge of your nose and breathed deep.

Fine, you thought. The coroner’s office it is.

You had to get yourself worked up. An injured girl near tears could get sympathetic assistance and soothing information. You made your breath shallow and rapid as you marched across the parking lot. You brought to mind every stressor: your father rejecting your every idea, being a stranger in this town, Vecna disfiguring your face after stealing your magic, making mistake after mistake and not finding the strength to get over it or fix it, finding Eddie and losing him all in one night.

Tears rimmed your eyes as you walked under the coroner’s office awning. You righted your shirt and pushed at the door. It clanked in its frame.

“What the hell?”

You caught your breath. Maybe you had to pull it. You tried that, earning another clank.

It was locked. Still.

That was complete bullshit.

Your tears evaporated as you grit your teeth. You would not be kept from him any longer. It didn’t matter if he was alive, dead, or undead. You would see Eddie.

You placed a palm over the deadbolt.

“You are undone,” you whispered to it.

Its screws unwound and fell to the floor. The outside cover tumbled off. The interior mechanism flicked open and teetered in the hole. You encouraged it to drop with a jab.

You swiped the cover from the sidewalk before entering the building. Inside, you gathered the deadbolt pieces and dumped them in a potted plant in the dim waiting room. You went to the empty check-in counter to find the area beyond it vacated and dark, save for the blinking lights of the desk phone.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind the reinforced door to your left. With nowhere to run, you put on an innocent expression and curled your shoulders inward. A guard in fatigues tore back the door while another rushed into the waiting room, guns in hand.

“Hands up!” said the closest guard as the door closed behind them.

You raised your hands as your gaze bounced from one to the other. They both had black armbands with MP decorating the side. Military police. Your hunch yesterday about the Humvees had been correct.

“How did you get in here?”

“The front door?” You glanced at it. “The lock’s gone.”

“State your business.”

“I can’t find my-my parents.” You didn’t have to force any nervousness with two guns pointed at you. “They’re not at the hospital. And… and-and the ER told me to check he-here.”

The MPs scowled.

A frenzy of banging and clanging came from behind the door. The MPs turned from you with guns at the ready. You took a step back, heart in your throat.

What were they keeping back there?

The door flew off its hinges, springing off the linoleum by its corner. It ricocheted and crashed into an MP, who toppled to the floor. The door landed to cover his top half. His gun skidded into the waiting room.

“Back away!” yelled the remaining MP. “Hands up!”

You turned your attention away from the gun, thinking he yelled at you. Rather, his attention was on the person in the doorway.

You almost didn’t believe your eyes. You’d expected a demogorgon or some other sort of hellish creature. It was neither. It was Eddie. Unmistakable, even backlit by the severe hallway light. His usually wild hair hung limp around his face. Green scrubs had replaced his clothes.

Eddie hissed at the MP and stomped onto the collapsed door. The MP underneath bleated in protest.

If he kept on like this, he was going to be shot.

“Eddie?”

He turned his focus on you, his blank expression so unlike himself.

The MP shouted, “I said, hands up!”

Eddie’s eyes had you taking another step back. They were like your left: cursed. His skin was waxen like the dead. A tag hung from his big toe. You didn’t know who this was, but he wasn’t your Eddie. He felt like him, looked like him, had his silver flame, but he wasn’t Eddie.

The door was less than a yard away. You could make it out before anyone would reach you. Once outside, you could dash to your car — or lead Eddie away from the hospital.

You pivoted on one foot. A cold body plowed into yours. Hands grabbed your upper arms. The check-in counter dug into your back. Eddie reared up over you.

He’d moved too fast to be natural. In comparison, the MP turned in slow motion.

Eddie pulled the pressure patch down your face.

With a pleased look, he said, “Ah, I see you’re half ours already.”

His breath smelled of old blood.

“Eddie, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Have you join us?”

He leaned in to drag his nose over your cheek, inhaling as he went. You closed your eyes and pinched your mouth shut. His dry, cracked lips skipped up your cheek.

“Pretty, pretty witch.”

“Show me your hands,” ordered the MP.

“Should I let him shoot me?” Eddie asked you.

“Don’t shoot,” you called over his shoulder. “He’s… He’s not hurting me.”

Eddie hummed in your ear. “Take me to Max.”

You couldn’t let him get his hands on her. He’d take her to Vecna. If Vecna had you, Max, and Eddie — all cursed in one manner or another — it would be a recipe for destruction. He’d drain you like a vampire, sacrifice Eddie, and use Max as a pawn. Or maybe something even worse. You couldn’t let any of that happen.

You arched away to look into Eddie’s cursed eyes, so much like your own. You’d tear Vecna limb from limb for this. Apart from El, only you had power enough to destroy him. And you could with the Eradix spell you’d found on Thursday.

“Step away from the girl!”

Eddie snarled and turned his head like a predator. He released your arms before you could protest. You reached for his shirt to keep him with you. Your fingers grasped air.

A triple pop of gunfire had you hunching and covering your head. The waiting room window shattered. A gust of smoke and ash poured into the building. Boots shuffled across the floor. The MP grunted as something clattered.

You wanted to look, make sure Eddie hadn’t been shot, but you needed to get out of there. A wet gurgle and grind turned your stomach. You scurried to the main door, pulling it open. Wind dragged the door from your hand. It thudded against the wall.

With a flinch, you peeked over your shoulder. Eddie stared back. Blood dripped down his chin. The MP hung slack from his hands.

Everything narrowed.

Then everything sharpened as you steadied the main door and sprinted to the street.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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emevergreen · 13 days

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OC lore time (weird boygirl edition)

thank you sm for the tag @zoroarkthief!! I'm always happy to share about my wol :'))

Khed'a Dakwhil

—B A S I C S

Name: Khed'a Dakwhil

Nicknames: His adoptive mother called him cicada :> The scions will sometimes call him khedy (tataru started it and then everyone else followed). Aymeric calls him angel as a term of endearment.

Age: 28 at the beginning of ARR

Nameday: Second Astral Moon, 16th Sun

Race: Keeper of the Moon Miqo'te

Gender: Nonbinary, Genderfluid

Orientation: Bisexual with a slight lean towards guys

Profession: He's held every odd job you can think of but predominantly considers himself a white mage.

—P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Dark brown bob

Eyes: Orange-Brown

Skin: light skin tone

Tattoos/scars: He has a scar of hardened skin in the center of his chest. He also has crystalline streaks going up his forearms. Both are a result of prolonged exposure to earth attuned aether.

—F A M I L Y

Parents: His birth mom is [redacted], and he doesn't know who his father is. His adoptive mother, Aria-A-Yan, was his conjury mentor when he was taken in as an orphan to the conjurer's guild. She was really supportive of him and helped him open up.

Siblings: None!

Grandparents: He heard stories of his grandmother but never knew her.

In-laws and Other: I really like him with Aymeric and considering the end of Heavensward, he's not on good terms with his father-in-law. Lol. As for other relatives, he's very close with the brother of his adopted mother, E-Sumi-Yan, and considers him like an uncle.

Pets: He has a little bird that follows him around named Thistle. He befriended it on the road to Ishgard.

—S K I L L S

Abilities: Khed'a has precise aetheric control as a highly skilled white mage. Due to the condition with his body, he has to keep a careful eye on his aether. During his time with the padjal, he learned how to properly manage and control the aether in his body. He is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to healing. He learned self-defense techniques while among the padjal that later served him when he moved on to pick up lancer/dragoon as a job.

Hobbies: He enjoys collecting and brewing different teas. He also really likes going on walks, especially when he is in a new place or just needs some time to think. Khed'a has a journal where he takes notes on the local flowers, plants, and insects of an area (and will sometimes press flora in it). He also likes to keep plants, though as a traveler he's found that difficult to maintain. He has a plant in a small pot that he's kept alive by propagating every so often. Khed'a also enjoys birdwatching.

—T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: His resilience and commitment to making the best of things in any given situation. He doesn't get discouraged despite it all.

Most Negative Trait: He's sometimes too willing to help others, to the point of stretching himself thin. He has issues with being objectified/being treated as a tool for others. He still falls into that role and struggles to properly adovcate for himself since it's a deeply ingrained pattern of behavior he's unlearning.

—L I K E S

Colors: Deep green, earthy browns, red, deep blue, smoky gray.

Smells: Freshly fallen snow, bergamot, chamomile, freshly washed sheets, a warm fire, flowers in bloom.

Textures: soft fabrics like silk and satin, freshly polished wood, the steadiness of a lance, leather, smooth pieces of metal (like jewelry or trinkets).

Drinks: He likes tea most, especially bergamot. He will also drink juices and lemonade. He enjoys hot chocolate as well.

—O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Nope.

Drinks: He doesn't drink alcohol but he will enjoy tea :3

Drugs: Nope.

Mount Issuance: Black Chocobo gifted from his friend Haurchefant. He will also use the unicorn he befriended as a conjurer, or the witch's broom mount.

Been Arrested: Yes (Post ARR :) Aside from that he hasn't run into too much more on that front.

I tag @freckledfemme @redgemwink @eirikaily @lululeighsworld @cogentsummoner @gnusnoteunuchs & anyone else who wants to talk about their wol/oc in general :3c

#oc: khed'a #thank you again for tagging me this was so fun :')#.txt #ask meme #ffxiv #wol

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darkwitch1999 · 2 months

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Anciel Moms Headcanons Part One: Emerson Anciel

Emerson is the biological mother of Marc Anciel (14 years old) and Aimé Anciel (6 years old) and is married to Kiki Anciel.

Marc and Aimé both call Emerson “Mama” and Kiki “Mom”.

She runs a local coffee shop.

Collège Françoise Dupont was one of her alma maters.

When Marc was entering middle school, Emerson and Kiki had discussed sending their son to DuPont, but then they found out that the mayor’s daughter would be attending that school and they decided against it.

Chloé Bourgeois had made a name for herself as “the mayor’s spoiled brat” ever since she learned to talk. As if they were going to let their son anywhere near that rotten girl.

Now Emerson and Kiki are kicking themselves for not choosing Dupont first.

She is bisexual.

Emerson and Kiki have known each other since elementary school and have been best friends for many years before they started dating during college.

Emerson had started developing some “romantic feelings” for Kiki sometime during high school, but she was clueless about these feelings of attraction towards her best friend.

Think of it like how Adrien was clueless about his feelings towards Marinette, but a WHOLE LOT LESS CRINGE!!!! Kiki was not a stalker, unlike certain pig-tailed girls!.

During her high school years and a couple of years at college, Emerson had an “on-again-off-again” relationship with some no-good asshat.

The two of them would break up with each other all the time, but then always come back to each other after a certain period.

Emerson’s ex-boyfriend would always make promises to improve himself and Emerson, despite all her confidence and self-assertiveness, would always take him back because deep down inside her self-esteem was low enough to believe that she couldn’t do better than a douchebag who clearly had no respect for her.

She finally broke off the relationship for good when she caught her ex-boyfriend cheating on her. The bastard was let off pretty easily during the break-up though.

He only got a broken nose after Emerson verbally assaulted him with every curse word and horrific insult that she could think of.

Throughout the whole breakup ordeal, Kiki stayed by her side and helped Emerson recover emotionally, and without her shitty ex-boyfriend distracting her, Emerson was able to grasp and realize her hidden feelings for Kiki and began their currently fourteen-year-long romantic relationship.

Emerson and Kiki have been married for twelve years now.

Emerson can be described as hot-headed and tough as nails. She is also well known for having a very dangerous and terrifying temper.

In her youth, she was considered the “toughest gal” during her middle and high school years.

Often, she would get into street fights and go joyriding on an old motorcycle that she and her late grandfather had restored together.

She carried around an aluminum bat that she nicknamed “The Attitude Fixer”.

May heaven have mercy on all those poor unfortunate souls who found themselves on the receiving end of her bat.

Swore more than a sailor and was always quick with a clever comeback whenever someone dared to insult her.

She also lacked a filter for the most part and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

When she became a mother, she had to show more restraint with her swearing around her boys as long as they were under the age of thirteen (if Emerson could swear at thirteen, she saw no reason why her children couldn’t do the same).

Nobody dared to mess with her and those who did had their heads slammed against the pavement within seconds.

She wasn’t a bully; she only beat the crap out of assholes who deserved it or anyone who dared to talk shit about her or the people she cared about.

Though it is dormant, Marc also has a temper hidden deep inside of his that if you piss him off enough, will unleash a fury that will have you praying for mercy. Like mother, like son.

Despite her “wild youth”, Emerson is a very caring and loving mother to her two sons.

When she first got pregnant with Marc, she felt insecure about her capability of being motherly enough for her son. She was also worried that she wouldn’t have any maternal instincts for her child.

Then Marc was born, and unlocked her inner “Mama Bear”.

Emerson is very protective of her two sons and wouldn’t hesitate to get back at anyone who dares to harm them physically or emotionally.

Especially if that someone is a homophobe who talks shit about her family in front of her and Kiki’s children.

Back when Marc attended his old school during Career Day, one of the teachers started making comments about Marc being raised by two mothers and no father and how “difficult” it was for Marc not to have a father to teach him “guy things” like sports or whatever.

Kiki’s Thoughts: “Did she really just say all that with us standing right here?!”

Emerson’s Thoughts: “M-Must…resist…urge to m-murder…in front of child…”

Things then took a turn for the worse when the teacher started insulting Emerson and Kiki, calling their marriage “unnatural” and “sinful”, and saying that they were unfit to raise children.

As a result, Emerson grabbed a chair and started chasing the teacher around the school with the intent of bashing her head in.

Emerson chased the teacher around the school for a solid twenty minutes before Kiki decided to show her “mercy” and asked Marc to pretend to have fallen down the stairs to snap Emerson out of her blind rage. Honestly, though, Kiki just wanted to spare her son from the trauma of watching his mama beat the teacher close to death with a chair (she probably wouldn’t have stopped her wife if Marc wasn’t present).

Fortunately, the teacher or the school didn’t press charges for attempted assault. However, Emerson is not allowed on school grounds unless Kiki escorts her and agrees to maintain a minimal distance of six feet away from the teacher.

As for the teacher, aside from nearly getting beaten to death with a chair, she got off Scott-free and the school didn’t take any disciplinary actions for her homophobic remarks towards the Anciel family (no surprises there), which pissed Emerson WAY off to no end! Good thing Hawk Moth wasn’t active during this time otherwise she would have definitely gotten akumatized and gone on a rampage.

When Emerson and Kiki found out that Marc was getting bullied, to say that Emerson was pissed wouldn’t even begin to express the intensity of her rage!

During the last couple of weeks of eighth grade, a group of bullies went way too far with their latest torment and Emerson was highly tempted to kick the ass of every single individual involved (if only they weren’t minors).

Her rage further intensified and became unstable once Marc told her and Kiki about the time he tried to get help from Principal Clément. Needless to say, Emerson immediately stormed into her office with the “The Attitude Fixer” in hand angrily demanding an explanation. Of course, the bat was only brought to scare the shit out of the principal, but with each passing second of listening to that bitch talk, Emerson was becoming more and more tempted to use it.

Following her confrontation with Principal Clément, Emerson immediately pulled Marc out of that school and began the process of transferring him to Collège Françoise Dupont. At this point, she wasn’t as concerned about the possibility of Marc being stuck with Chloé because compared to what those kids did to Marc, Chloé looked like a saint.

Emerson is well aware of Marc’s obvious crush on Nathaniel Kurtzberg that even a blind person can see from a mile away (Of course she picked up on those vibes. She is his mama after all).

Emerson likes Nathaniel and she trusts him completely to help Marc whenever he’s having one of his “bad days” and to help him calm down whenever he has panic/anxiety attacks. She and Kiki were the ones who helped educate Nathaniel on Marc’s anxiety disorder when he asked them about it and taught him the coping strategies to help their son.

However, being the protective “Mama Bear” that she is, Emerson is not very fond of the idea of her son dating anyone. She knew to keep that sentiment to herself back when Marc and Nathaniel were “just friends” since she didn’t want to risk outing Marc’s crush on Nathaniel to the red-headed artist, despite how pretty fucking obvious it was! Like seriously, Nathaniel?!

Emerson: (seething as she watches Nathaniel and Marc from the kitchen) They’re holding hands! KIKI! THEY ARE FUCKING HOLDING HANDS!!!!! Just what is that boy’s intentions to our son?!

Kiki: They aren’t holding hands, Emmy. Nathaniel just moved his hand….

Emerson: I know what I saw! I swear if that kid moves his hand again out of my sight…

Kiki: Emmy, even if they were holding hands, what’s the harm?

Emerson: Oh it looks innocent now! That’s how it is in the beginning, but hand holding will then soon turn into gazing into each others’ eyes, and then gazing will lead to kissing, and eventually kissing will lead to them fuc-...

Kiki: EMMY!

Emerson: HE’S TOO YOUNG!

Kiki: I mean I won’t argue that fact, but this is all coming from the same woman who was only a year older than Marc when she started doing that…

When the two boys FINALLY started dating, while Emerson was happy for her son and she would never doubt that Marc and Nathaniel were the cutest couple, she was also very stern when it came to how they used physical contact to express their love. In other words, kissing was fine but they had to keep their hands where Emerson could see them.

She is starting to warm up to the idea that she has to let her son grow up and form love connections, but she still keeps her guard up and has made it perfectly clear what will happen to him if even thinks about hurting her “precious baby boy”.

She doesn’t know about Nathaniel’s involvement during the “Reverser” incident by the way. Marc never told her who was responsible for his akumatization.

Though Emerson tries to assert herself as strong and confident and refuses to show any weakness, much like Marc, she has been known to harbor deep insecurities, and every once in a while, her feelings of guilt from the past come back to plague her mind with self-loathing and doubt.

While Marc believes that Emerson had him through in vitro fertilization like his younger brother, Aimé Anciel, his father is actually Emerson’s asshole ex-boyfriend she broke up during her college years.

Though Emerson never said that she had Marc through in vitro fertilization, she didn’t deny it either. It probably didn’t help that she refers to his biological father as his “sperm donor” and doesn’t elaborate further than that.

During the early stage of her pregnancy with Marc, Emerson thought that would be incapable of raising a child and that she would be unfit to be a mother. At first, she had considered either giving up Marc for adoption or terminating her pregnancy. However, Kiki would constantly reassure her that Emerson would be a great mother to her baby and that no matter what she decided to do, she would always support her.

True to her word, Kiki stayed by her girlfriend’s side and supported her throughout the whole pregnancy. Even after Marc was born, Kiki never left Emerson’s side and spent the next fourteen years co-parenting with her.

Emerson still harbors guilt over that time when she almost gave up on her son, but at the same time, she is content that she knows she made the right decision to be his mother.

Emerson still kicks herself for not realizing sooner that Marc was getting bullied at his old school.

Throughout the years while Marc attended that school, she did notice a change in Marc’s personality and that his usual “happy-go-lucky” outgoing demeanor had become more withdrawn and timid. Additionally, Emerson also noticed how Marc had become more painfully shy and quiet whenever they were out in public.

While she did suspect that bullying was involved, she thought that it was just a couple of kids being assholes that were teasing and making fun of him. Because Marc kept covering up his bruises and would lie about his pairs of glasses being broken by him being clumsy, it wasn’t until near the end of eighth grade that Emerson and Kiki found out about the physical bullying. Though she tried her best to get Marc to open up about the bullying, he kept denying anything being wrong.

At one point, Emerson and Kiki tried to press Marc for details about anything that might have been going on at school. However, pressing Marc for information led to him having a panic attack. That was also the year Marc was diagnosed with his anxiety disorder.

Emerson blames herself for Marc having an anxiety disorder as she feels that it is her fault that she didn’t do enough to help Marc while he was getting bullied.

Concept Design of Emerson Anciel using Create-a-Sim because I suck at drawing characters.

Finally finished writing this out. Up next will be looking into Kiki Anciel. Please share your thoughts on what you think of Emerson Anciel.

@andromeda612 @nerd-chocolate @artzychic27 @princessbutterflysposts @msweebyness @imsparky2002

#miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #ao3 writer #original character #marc anciel #original anciel characters #marc anciel headcanon #mlb marc #protective mother #mama bear #mlb headcanon #marc has two moms #nathaniel kurtzberg #create a sim #sims 4 #because I suck at drawing

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faithintheunknownsblog · 1 year

Text

A/n: Imma be completely honest idk where some of these came from lmfao

Integra Head Canons

- Integra is a bisexual but is more attracted to women than men, you aren’t going to change my mind

- Even if it is only being friends, it will take a long time before Integra will let you into her heart because she’s scared to lose more people in her life

- You know you and Integra are close when she lets you have one of her cigars

- And you’re the closest with her when she shares one with you

- I feel like Integra is a bit of a germaphobe, I have nothing to base this on, I just think she is and that’s why her sharing a cigar with you is a big deal

- Integra takes long hot showers because she spends the first half of it just silently crying, then when she’s finally done crying she regains her composure and actually showers. It’s the only place she is able to cry without ending up getting disturbed

- Integra definitely has a bunch of hair care and skin products

- Integra isn’t big on pda (public displays of attention) that’s why she goes all out when you two are alone/not around with people who you two are constantly around.

- Integra loves to listen to classical music because it fills the quietness of the mansion, and if you two are really close she will waltz around the room with you

- You best bet dates with her are going to be extravagant; I’m talking candlelight dinners in fancy secluded gardens with live music

- Integra loves cuddling, that is why she still slept with her childhood teddy bear before she shared her bed with you.

- Once you two are together she no longer needs her teddy bear but she of course keeps it though, it just goes in the safe in her closet now.

- Yes, the teddy bear goes in the safe where she keeps some of her weapons and the most expensive things she owns because that’s how much that teddy bear means to her

- Integra is up at 5 am, everyday and she drinks pricey black coffee with only two sugar cubes

- Integra is an expensive woman with expensive taste; eating at the most expensive restaurants there are, getting top grade food that you can’t just buy from your local grocery stores. No she has personal suppliers and she only hires the best chefs to cook in the Hellsing’s kitchen

- Also clothes are always individually tailored to perfectly fit

- Integra hates reading in her free time, she has to read a shit ton of paperwork at work. She definitely isn’t going to read for fun

- Unless it’s reading bedtime stories to your kid(s)

- Eyup, Integra will take in your kids as if she birthed them herself. She isn’t exactly the greatest mom in the world (lord only knows how many times she has asked you how she should respond to a situation) but she tries her best and that’s what matters.

- She has issues with how to deal with them crying because she has always held back her emotions, and she doesn’t always know what to discipline them for or how to discipline them in a correct manner

- Integra does and doesn’t want to spoil your children… It’s like an internal conflict because she wants to give them everything but she also doesn’t want them to turn into spoiled brats that have everything handed to them on a silver platter.

- And Heaven FORBID she finds out someone says something disrespectful about your family, you’re lucky that you know how to calm Integra down because if you didn’t it’d be a bloodbath

There are plenty more I just can’t think of currently, but Integra is the perfect gentleman

#hellsing fanfiction #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #hellsing fandom #hellsing x reader #sir integra fairbrook wingates hellsing #sir integra x reader #integra #integra hellsing #sir integra #hellsing organization #hellsing ova

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insideliascrazyhead · 7 months

Text

Suzuran Headcanons

Kamui

-goth princess of the group

-clumsy as fuck

-horror movie enthusiast

-full of secrets

-roasts the shit out of you in a heartbeat

-knows all the tea

-petty and will never forget when someone wronged him

-bisexual

-self care nights,most loyal customer at Lush

-also loves to drink tea but because he´s a gremlin he calls it leaf water

-dramatic as fuck

-on the outside cool as a cucumber and on the inside a squirrel in traffic

-knows a ton of morbid facts

-has a little garden of poisonous plants but also his bed is full of stuffed animals

-dark humor

-local cinnamon roll

Binzo

-coffein and sugar junkie

-loves everything that glitters,explodes or burns

-wears black nail polish

-in his pop punk phase,would totally live in a Hot Topic if he could

-Machine Gun Kelly fan

-clingy and loves cuddles

-adrenalin junkie

-befriends every friend shaped creature even a raccoon or a rat

-drama queen

-loves Tinkerbell cause as Binzo belives he too,will die without attention

-knows how to entertain himself,mostly cause he grew up as only child

-favorite disney movie is Nemo

-not allowed to accept dares,no regard for personal safety

-loves cartoons

-lowkey scared off kids and calls them creatures

Magoroku

-not the brightest crayon in the box,total dumbass

-wears fancy parfum

-he´s the definition of affection ew gross do it again

-Binzo uses him regulary as pillow

-Playboy

-his love language is violence

-speaks before he thinks and always says whatever he thinks with no filter whatsoever

-can dance

-hates insects or similar creatures,anything that crawls including toddlers weird him out

-not a morning person,loves black coffee

-kinda crushes on Raoh

-hair always neat,no one saw him with open hair and it´s Kamui´s mission to catch him with open hair at least once

-hates kids cause they´re „gross and annoying“

Mercy

-gives cigarette mom vibes

-fashion lover,loves thrift shopping

-has spill the tea sessions with his mother

-regularily hangs out with Odajima

-lives from take out and especially Starbucks

-probably takes a switchblade everywhere

-total nightowl

-always has candy on hand

-speaks in fluent sarcasm and irony

-wears sunglasses so people don´t see how often this man rolls his eyes at their behavior

-highly intelligent and easily learns new languages

Kansuke

-great himbo energy

-eats like a tank he and Yamato could eat up the whole ass city if necessary

-makes great choclate chip cookies

-token straight of the group thats on thin ice

-Taylor Swift fan

-has two little sisters and plays princess dress up on a regular base.Kamui has a photo of it

-enjoys romance but bites his own togue off before admitting it

-anger issues

-get´s confused easily

-snores like a chainsaw

Raoh

-also total himbo

-makes orphan jokes,dark humor is his copy mechanism

-mother hens like crazy

-calls people idiot affectionatly

-hates math

-chronically late

-heart of gold

-loves to read thrillers and crime books

-reads to the kids at the orphanedge

-huge sweetheart

-sings in the shower

-introverted extrovert

#high and low #high and low the worst #suzuran #binzo #magoroku yamaguchi #mashii #ito kamui #kansuke

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evilkaeya · 2 years

Note

Steve and Robin are out having fun and see homophobic posters and boards surrounding the church. They look at each other with something I mind.

They take apart everything and leave it trashed with a victorious grin but not without being caught by a wondering metal head, Eddie, who just stood shocked and they turned to him with a nervous smile as they filed away.

"Cool." He muttered. "Didnt know you two were- a friend of Dorothy's?" He questions easily. Steve was confused but Robin felt tension release.

"Who's Dorothy?" The confused bisexual prodded.

"It's a- it's a mutual friend," Robin said quickly and threw a light punch on Eddie’s shoulder who laughed and took it, "didn't know you knew her as well, Eddie."

Steve stood there baffled. He was, well, he was still awestruck by Eddie, wearing a loose crop top and ripped jeans and hair tied up in a bun and maybe, maybe Steve was having a little crisis processing his thoughts here.

He’d met Eddie only a handful times before while picking up the kids from their dnd club. Eddie was a pretty chill dude, that’s all he knew. (And pretty fucking hot too but Steve didn’t need to admit that)

"Oh, thought it was pretty obvious Buckley," Eddie replied, looking sheepishly at Steve and then back at Robin, "he isn’t?"

Robin looked back at him for a moment. Steve must look like a deer in headlights right now because she giggled before saying, "he is, but I don't think he remembers her."

"I don't? Wait, I know her? And you two know each other?" Steve asked, running his brain at full speed down the memory lane to find out who the fuck Dorothy was.

"Yeah, band kids and all that. And you know Dorothy too silly," she said, "maybe you forgot. I'll reintroduce you to her later."

Steve nodded, feeling a little confused and defeated still. Whatever. Their job here was done.

He didn’t really care or think about this Dorothy until a few days later.

It turned out Dorothy was a deity of friendship apparently, because Eddie started visiting Family Video almost everyday to talk to him. and Robin. Mostly Robin.

One mutual connection was all it took for them to be best friends now? Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous. Eddie being the absolutely sweetest person and sending Steve cute smiles did not help with the situation.

He decided to bring it up one day while sitting in a diner with Robin and Nancy.

“Hey Rob, when will I get to meet you and Eddie’s friend Dorothy? It’s been a month, introduce us already,” he said and Nancy choked on her juice for some reason. She looked at Robin and then back at Steve.

“Dorothy?” she asked.

“Yeah it’s a, it’s a friend,” Robin looked pale all of a sudden, like the floor was collapsing. Did he ask something wrong? “Uh, Steve, Dorothy’s out of the town now-”

“Me too,” Nancy interrupted and both of them turned to look at her, “I’m, I’m a friend of Dorothy too.”

What the fuck.

“You are?” Robin’s voice was shaky as she asked and Nancy nodded, “you aren’t joking?”

“No Robin,” she smiled, “what do you say we invite Dorothy to mine tonight? We can do some catch up.”

“What? I thought Dorothy was out of town?” Steve chimed in.

“She, uh, came back few days ago actually,” Nancy said, “and it’s gonna be girls sleepover Steve. You can meet her later.”

Steve was still confused as hell to why Robin looked like her ass was gonna fall off but didn’t prod on the matter. He shrugged instead, letting the topic drop.

2 days later he was on his way to work when he spotted Jonathan and Argyle at local park, sprawled on the grass together. Argyle was laying on Jonathan’s lap, talking about something as Jonathan lazily played with a strand of his hair.

They were like a pair of cats, Steve noticed. Inseparable. Always snuggled together. Always living in their little bubble. It was cute.

“Hey,” Steve greeted as he jogged over to them.

“Hey Steve,” Jonathan said.

“Wassup dude,” Argyle said and then arched an eyebrow, “what time is it?”

Steve looked at his wristwatch, “uh- 8:30?”

“It’s time,” he said and stood up, heading towards were his van was parked.

“Time for what?”

“Time for us to escape reality,” Jonathan answered for him, “you wanna join?”

“Nah, I have work. Maybe later,” he replied and Jonathan nodded, laying back on the grass again.

Did Jonathan know about Dorothy too? He wondered. Maybe he did. Maybe everybody in the town knew about her except him.

“You friends with Dorothy too or something?” He asked without much thought.

Jonathan sat up immediately, looking rather- offended. Pissed. Was Dorothy one of his ex girlfriend?

“Steve,” he said, “I thought you changed.”

“What?”

“You-” he stood up this time, dragging his hand down his face, “didn’t think you were still- homophobic.”

“What- what are talking about?” Steve exclaimed, “I’m not! What does that have to do with anything I said?”

“But you asked if I was friends with Dorothy and you asked like, like you were bothered by it.”

“It’s because all of my friends seem to know this girl except me! Thought you’d know too,” he said, “I swear I don’t know anyone by that name but apparently everyone else does-”

Jonathan was staring at him like Steve was growing a cactus out of his head. Steve wasn’t sure what to say.

And then he started laughing, hand clenching his stomach and all. Steve was dumbfounded by the reaction, was this guy already high? He briefly considered leaving Jonathan and asking Argyle instead. He came to Hawkins 3 months ago but maybe he knew Dorothy as well. He won’t be surprised if he did.

“You-” Jonathan said then, “you really don’t know do you?”

“What?”

He placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, “asking that basically means asking someone if they’re gay, Steve. Dorothy is uh- Dorothy? From the wizard of Oz?” he explained, “it’s like a secret code. To ask if someone is gay without saying it directly.”

“Oh,” Steve said, “I’m gonna kill Robin.”

“Maybe don’t,” Jonathan suggested, laughing, “Are you?”

“What?” He’s been saying ‘what’ a lot lately, he realized.

“Are you a friend of Dorothy, Steve?”

“Yeah man, yeah I am, I guess,” he nodded, “I- I like both.”

“Okay,” he smiled and patted his arm, “go get him tiger.”

“How the fuck do you know who I like?”

“I have eyes, Steve,” he waved a hand, “now shoo, go.”

Steve didn’t need to be told again. He turned around and ran. He needed to tell Eddie now, it felt like an urgency eating him up from inside.

He reached Eddie’s trailer ten minutes later, panting and out of breath. He knocked and Eddie opened the door seconds later, his hair a mess. He was wearing a They stared at each other for a moment.

“I wanna say ‘what a pleasant surprise’ but I can’t. It’s eight in the fucking morning Stevie, and it’s Sunday! What are you doing-”

“I’m, also friends with Dorothy,” he said. Fuck, he’d said it.

Eddie was silent. Too silent and his expression was unreadable. This was not the reaction Steve was hoping for here.

What was he hoping anyway?

Fuck, maybe he should leave. Maybe he should just tell him to forget about it and head to work-

Eddie grabbed his chin and made him look up, into his eyes. “You came here running to tell me that?”

“Yeah, it felt- it felt urgent.”

“Oh yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“You know why, Eddie.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Fuck it. He’d come this far, he wasn’t going to turn back now.

“I like you,” he said, “I like you so much I feel like I’m gonna explode whenever I look at you. I can’t keep my eyes off you, Eddie, I- I want to hold you and kiss you and- be with you,” he finished softly, his voice betrayed him at the end, “there, I said it, you asshole.”

Eddie smiled. “Come’re sweetheart,” and he closed the distance between them.

The kiss was everything Steve hoped for and more. He let Eddie pull him inside and close the door behind him, let him press his back against the wall and kiss him senseless. Ectasy clouded his mind as he kissed Eddie back like his life depended on it. He thinks he won’t mind kissing Eddie forever if he could. Won’t mind feeling Eddie’s smiles against his lips for the rest of his life if he was allowed to. It was perfect.

He’ll have to thank Dorothy later.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jargyle #fruity six #stranger things #steve x eddie #asks #I ended up writing a mini fic wow #I call this 'Steve Harrington's journey of finding Dorothy'

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alegacyofmonsters · 9 months

Text

Legacies 1x01 Rewatch

NO THE OPENING HAS TAKEN ME OUT. IT'S TOO SOON. HER LITTLE HERO AND VILLAIN SPEECH AND KNOWING ALL THAT COMES WITH THAT MOTIF LATER IS TOO MUCH.

She should've sprinkled a little "love and hate" in that speech honestly. The Hizzie edits would've slapped.

Everyday I wish we got more of Landon and Rafael's foster life. Like there was so much there to unpack and they never did.

Playing Halsey in the first five minutes. I was doomed to obsess over this show from the start.

The way we never got answers on whether that priest knew about werewolves and that's why he wanted to see him at the rise of the full moon or if it was coincidence or if that priest actually was a witch. Imagine if he came back.

HE USED TO SERVE ME MILKSHAKES I WAS NOT PREPARED I KNEW IT

"More like despair" 😭😭😭 Sorry but all her poking gets funnier on the rewatch knowing she had a crush on Hope the whole time

Truly wish we got to see more of the classes at this SCHOOL. Like we saw three??? And none of them had any substance???

"Before your hairier breatheren corrupted you" Sorry but I wanted the witches' distaste for the wolves to be addressed and honestly Tribrid Hope could've been the uniter of the kingdoms

"Talking about her gives her power." You say all that but then you bitch about people NOT talking about her later

Aww. I always forget when Josie used to just be a softy stoner witch. They should've kept that characterization.

Bisexually, we should've gotten to see Rafael throw that lawn mower through the patio doors

BABY HOPEG MY HEART IT THUMPS

"Take it from a guy named Alaric, I get it" 😭😭😭 Guarantee that Lizzie's "just be MG" speech from his tour was Alaric's "just be Ric" speech

You're telling me Landon worked at the Grill in MYSTIC FALLS and never encountered a vampire who tried to compel him before MG? I call bullshit.

"I'm not so good with small spaces" and all I'm thinking about is how he crawled through the air vents to save everyone in 1x11

Alyssa Chang made a broom fly in Physics. YEAH SHE DID.

"It's not a competition" I mean yeah that's fair because Josie was the only one competing in the competition in her mind but still ... she very much viewed it as a competition ...

"We don't mention her name anymore." Josie a week later:

"That was my inside voice" 😭😭😭 Now I'm dying imagining Caroline and Alaric telling Lizzie that sometimes, your thoughts are not meant to be spoken out loud because that is your inside voice after she insults someone on accident

"Hot, angry, damaged ..." So Hope Mikaelson? God the signs were there from the start and I MISSED them like a FOOL

"You're getting a little old for me to breaking your human bones." Don't worry, Hope. You do eventually.

"I don't have things" and meanwhile Jed is the only one in that school who didn't have a crush on Hope at some point. YOU may not have things, ma'am, but people definitely have things for you.

"I don't tell you to go out and fraternize with the human locals." ... isn't that LITERALLY what you tell them to do in the NEXT episode???

"Attempt to make an actual friend here and we can reevaluate" "I tried to be her friend and she never makes any effort" Oh yeah, "I want you to do anything for each other" is making so much sense now. The signs were all there.

ClEaN uP oN aIsLe L. Was it so hard to be like "Hey, my sister - your DAUGHTER - is having a mental health episode. Help?" Also, it's not like Hope doesn't know about her episodes. Josie already told the whole school five years ago.

Also I love that they put Josie immediately running to Alaric to help Lizzie in the very first episode and then have Josie claim she did everything to help and have Lizzie claim that Alaric wasn't around. LIKE YES MISS MIKAELSON, IT DOES DEPEND ON WHO IS TELLING THE STORY.

THE MOMENT I FELL IN LOVE WITH LIZZIE. I have long since gotten better with it, but I too used to want to destroy kitchens or [redacted] myself every time I messed up a social interaction and seeing that on screen absolutely blew my mind.

Throwback to the first time I watched Legacies and had NOT finished TVD or TO yet. Had no clue what Handon was talking about but I was still melting.

Why did we never see summoning spells come back up? Like?? That could've been so useful???

Josie out at a party while Lizzie sits inside recovering from her episode. Hmm. Tell me again which one Lizzie's disorder affects more.

Yeah, everyone's endings in 4x20 suck but RAFAEL'S EARLY ENDING IS CUTTING EXTRA DEEP WHEN ALL HE'S EVER TALKED ABOUT IS HOW MUCH HE BELONGS WITH LANDON AND AT THAT SCHOOL AND HOW BOTH GOT YANKED AWAY IN HIS "HEAVEN"

"I could just whip up a remedy with herbs from the bio lab" Wonder where she got the idea that there's a magic fix for her disorder from

"Do you think I'm broken?" 🥺🥺🥺 My baby girl

"Josie doesn't have freakouts." Don't worry, she does. She's just hiding them for now. She'll kill you one day though. Just for funsies. You're doing just fine, all things considered.

"She spends a lot of time worrying about other people's happiness." You mean how she can take it away or ...?

WHY DIDN'T WE EVER GET TO HEAR ABOUT THE ORIGINAL SALTZMAN CODEPENDENCY. LIKE NOT EVEN IN TVD?? WHAT DOES THAT LINE MEAN???

"I don't ever want to hurt anybody." "Maybe you'll finally understand if you have blood on your hands too." OHHHHHHH

HOPE AND LIZZIE MADE FRIENDS AND WE STILL NEVER SAW A GROUP TRAINING. I WAS ROBBED. ROBBED I SAY.

I TRIED TO BE HER FRIEND. God, they should just make a "Young Salvatore School" spin off. I'd watch all that play out between TO and Legacies.

"Everyone in here has lost something." WAIT BECAUSE I JUST REALIZED SHE'S NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT HERSELF AND JOSIE. SHE'S TALKING ABOUT ALL THE OTHER STUDENTS NOT GETTING THE SAME SPECIAL TREATMENT DESPITE ALL OF THEM GOING THROUGH TRAUMA TO END UP THERE.

"Speak of the actual devil." Lizzie, haven't you met the ACTUAL actual devil??

"I'm missing a party??" THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING LIZZIE.

POSIE CRUMBS POSIE CRUMBS POSIE CRUMBS

The fact that MG stopped talking about vampire stories is so sad. He should've kept that with his comic obsession.

"I'm not saying that y'all should kill your moms because that's messed up." I'll say it: MG should've gotten to kill his mom. Actually, did none of that come up again??? She works for Triad and he just moves on????

The way Rafael was an athlete yet he never played in the football episodes ...

ACTUALLY THE WAY WE NEVER GOT A S3 OR S4 FOOTBALL EPISODE AFTER J*LIE SAID THERE'D BE ONE EVERY SEASON

"I care too much. It's kind of a problem." I mean technically she did not lie but she also did not mention that the caring in question was about herself and about what she thought everyone else owed her.

ROSIE SHOULD'VE HAPPENED AND I STAND BY THAT. THEY WERE NOT ENDGAME MATERIAL AND RAFAEL DESERVED BETTER BUT MY GOD I STILL WANTED TO SEE IT HAPPEN.

Legacies S1 aesthetics >>> any of the other seasons'

That wolf Hope and Landon in the woods scene is just 🤌🤌🤌

HANDON LIBRARY SCENE HANDON LIBRARY SCENE

"I'm a lot of things." "Care to elaborate?" "Bisexual."

I lowkey forgot about the Pizzie (Menelope? PenelopeG?) kiss

"I'm offering to rock your world right now." So like ... did Penelope actually like MG? Was she just looking to get laid? Was she doing it because she knows he likes Lizzie?

Sorry but PosieG might be rising as my second favorite throuple (sorry Fosie)

The S1 Penelope-kissing-MG and Josie-being-jealous-over-MG's-romances is just too good

"Last I checked you were more into girls." Yikes MG.

"I am an equal opportunity evil temptress." Bisexual Penelope for the win.

Wait - do you guys think Penelope was the one to help Josie figure out her sexuality? Do you think Josie was the one who helped Penelope?? Where's the fics, Posies???

"Your binary assumptions about sexuality are dated." And here's how MG's bi realization comes about because he knows he likes girls but he thinks because he likes girls, he can't like guys and then Ethan and -

Josie getting jealous seeing MG and Penelope kissing AND THE WAY IT COULD GO EITHER WAY.

"Klaus Mikaelson: The Great Evil." "He wasn't very popular around here." Look, Hope, I love you and I love your relationship with your dad BUT MY GOD IT WAS FOR A REASON. HE LITERALLY WAS EVIL.

"I try not to get close to people anymore." "We thought you hated us." "That's what we do when we're scared - we push people away." Mmm hmm. Just inject the good stuff straight into my veins.

A UNICORN. THE FACT THAT SHE GOT PANCAKES ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY AND NOT A STUFFED UNICORN IS ACTUALLY ILLEGAL.

"Forget about her. Focus on somebody new." Oh I need to use this in a Finsie edit real bad.

"I'm setting my sights on Rafael." LIZZIE YOU DON'T JUST PICK A GUY TO CRUSH ON BECAUSE HE'S THERE. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE ATTRACTED TO MEN. BABY, IF YOU HAVE TO ARBITRARILY DECIDE TO CRUSH ON HIM, YOU'RE JUST NOT INTO HIM.

WE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN HANDON WATCHING THE STARS LATER TO PARALLEL THE CELLAR SCENE

"You are a really nice person, Hope Mikaelson." "Why were you so mean to me?" Oh the Handizzie ... I feel faint ...

"Is this the part where you run?" I just think Landon has a thing for girls who run away.

"I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?" "Probably not." AND IT'S NOT THE COMPULSION THAT MAKES HIM FORGET BUT HOPE JUMPING INTO MALIVORE THAT DOES. OH MY GOD.

"It's just not safe for you here." And then MG kills him and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies and then he dies AND THEN HE DIES FOR GOOD AND THEN HE'S THE GOD OF DEATH.

"All you gotta do is go home." MG ... sweetie ... he doesn't have a home ...

HOPE TOUCHING HER LIPS REMEMBERING THAT KISS OH I KNOW IT WAS SO GOOD FOR HER

"There's no way that the one time I get close to someone, they turned out to be a liar. It's not possible. I'm not that stupid." Let me give you a hug

I, for one, do not think they did enough plots about the threat of being exposed

"She puts those sex herbs in her weed, and I had a momentary lapse in judgement." No because I don't think we talk enough about MG straight up accusing Penelope of roofie-ing and assaulting him.

"Why does everyone find her so special?" Why do YOU find her so special Miss Saltzman? Hmm?

"She's not special. She's just ... available." OOF. I DID NOT REMEMBER MG SAYING THAT. THAT IS SO NASTY.

Maybe 1x01 MG and 4x20 MG ARE the same dude.

"Don't hate me, okay?" "What if I'm incapable of love?" Oh the good stuff could've been there.

Local Pyromaniac Lights Ex On Fire

"Are you blackmailing me?" Yes, she is.

Hope's little "sorry" to the mouse 🥺🥺🥺 You're telling me she's gonna become a killer someday? Hmm.

"Turns out, Landon isn't the hero of my story at all." Turns out, Hope's not the real villain in Lizzie's story.

"But when I hunt him down, I'm gonna be the villain of his." Hope, you were apologizing to a rat a few hours ago. I need you to be realistic in your goals.

#legacies #legacies cw #legacies 1x01 #legacies rewatch #lizzie saltzman #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #josie saltzman #milton greasley #penelope park #handon #posie #hizzie #mosie #losie

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