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stevehharringtcns·:

.

as he stared at eddie, steve couldn’t help but have a smile creep on his features. it was good seeing eddie, even if he had seen him before the wheeler barbecue and many times before, but having him gone for so long made steve quite happy to say the least. he felt like all of the time he had spent with the other was too busy with fighting vecna and after everything that had happened, everyone seemed to drift off for a bit. he hadn’t talked to eddie in a while, not a real talk anyway, so it was definitely good to see him again around town. he couldn’t be the one that thought that, right?

“i work here, how is that a surprise? you should have known i would be here” he asked, raising an eyebrow but letting out a chuckle either way, shaking his head slightly as he started walking towards the aisle so he could drop off some of the cases, tilting his head slightly so eddie could follow him. he didn’t mind having some company, especially eddie’s.

listening to him talk made steve keep smiling. it seemed like he couldn’t get that smile off his face, but he had always liked eddie’s company. maybe a little too much, but he wasn’t going to be busy thinking about that. “oh, you looking for some movies to watch? well, i really don’t know what type of movies you like.” he said, as he started rearranging the cases on the shelf, letting out a sigh as he did so. “you kind of look like you’re a horror guy… i can take you to that section, but you know… i don’t spend that much time watching movies, i’m not a nerd.” he said with a sly smirk, as he looked at eddie. “no offense, obviously.” he said, a small shrug coming from his shoulders. “are you only really here for a movie? c’mon, be serious with me.” he said with a chuckle.

+++

jesus, fuck, why did harrington have to look this damn perfect all the time. it really wasn’t fair, especially when eddie had considered himself totally done with the whole affair. and here he waws again, blushing like a little girl. getting distracted by how pretty  his lips were when he spoke, how fucking lucious his hair looked and -

oh. lips, moving, it connected in eddie’s brain, steve was talking to him. he snapped out of his trance, blinked repeatedly. still a grin on his face, a stupid, silly, lovey-dovey look in his eyes. get it together munson. “i did know you’d be here, harrington. duh.”, he said and rolled his eyes. “sarcasm, man. look it up.”

he followed steve, slowly, as if he had to remind himself ‘one foot in front of the other.’ also, he didn’t particularly mind the view. not at all. “dude, you’re like henderson’s dad. you hang out with the kids more than i do. sure you’re a fucking nerd.”, he teased, shoved steve’s shoulder playfully. his hand lingered there perhaps a touch too long, he quickly dropped it. “none taken, harrington. been called worse. and i do pride myself on being a nerd.i daresay i am the king of nerds.”

jesus, he was coming on too strong. words falling from his lips without thought, absent-minded rambling. he was nervous. two years and steve ‘the hair’ harrington still had that effect on him. play it cool, munson, play it cool. he cleared his throat, straightened up a bit. “horror’s ok.”, he shrugged. “what....sorta movies do you like, harrington?” totally asked without any hidden intention, not like he was planning to invite steve over to watch a movie with him. definitely not.

eddie swiped his tongue over his teeth, his grin turned into a smirk. “alright, alright, harrington, i give in.”, he said, hands held up in mock surrender. “i just wanted to see your pretty face again. and that infamous hair, jeez, man. how do you get it to...fucking defy gravity like that?”

colemontgomeryx·:

xx.

Cole’s eyes sparkled with amusement and curiosity as he searched his brain. Dorothy? Flagging? What was Eddie trying to ask him? And why was he speaking in this obscure code? At first, Cole wondered if it was a DnD thing, but then realization hit when Cole spotted a bandana in Eddie’s back pocket. He instinctively reached for the bandana he’d tucked in his own pocket and the amusement on his face morphed to something akin to wonder. 

At Eddie’s question, Cole nodded and held out the pack, though his eyes were still glazed over. As Eddie plucked out a cigarette, Cole offered his lighter. He wanted to say something, at least to put Eddie at ease, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to say it out loud. No one knew yet… well, that wasn’t true, because there was Steve and then there was Max. What the hell?

“I am, too,” Cole said, abruptly. He lowered the cigarette from his lips and looked at Eddie, motioning to the flag. For some reason, he felt the urge to prove it. God forbid Eddie thought he was playing a mean prank. “Do you remember Adam Richards? Tall, broad, blonde? He was my… well, you know,” Cole stumbled through his words, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was never this awkward. 

+++

droplets of nervous sweat starting to appear above his brow, eddie’s eyes darted down to where cole pulled out that blasted bandana before he took both the cigarette and lighter from him. he clicked it a couple of times, no light appeared, eddie nervously glanced back up at cole, down at the lighter. violently shook it around for a moment, another attempt - it thankfully lit this time and he handed it back to cole.

he was a bundle of nerves. the previous pleasant buzz from the alcohol had almost entirely disappeared, he flicked  the cigarette’s filter repeatedly, fidgeted with his rings on his other hand. as if he was almost....waiting for cole to ridicule him. instead, however, he said something completely unexpected and eddie chocked on his own breath, sputtering cough.

he looked up to lock eyes with him. i am, too. the fuck did he mean? and ‘too’? was this some sort of trap? or was he literally genuinely saying what...eddie thought...he was saying? hadn’t he not gotten any of his surely widely popularly used phrases moments ago? he quirked a brow, took a drag once his coughing had subised. “you are....what?”, eyes narrowed, voice low in case this was, indeed, a trap.

adam richards was mentioned and, oh, jeez, it all made sense. eddie almost instantly felt bad, a guilty nauseau creeping up on him. way to go, munson, way to go. “your best friend, wasn’t he?” brows pulled together, lips twisted into a sympathetic smile. of course, max hadn’t been the only one who’d lost someone on the very ground they were standing on. “listen, man, i’m so...sorry - like, that’s gotta be rough, like, being here and everything. sorry. i can go and  leave you alone if you want to.”

stevehharringtcns·:

who: steve harrington and @eddiemcnson·

where: the video store

steve hated that he have to work. well, he didn’t hate working whenever he was accompanied by robin, but this time around, it was his turn to have a shift on his own and he didn’t know what to do with himself. he definitely didn’t want to spend most of his shift talking with keith, so he kept himself busy with rearranging the videos, although he was always with a bored look on his face. it was summer, why the hell was he wasting away at the video store? he should be at the pool or getting drunk with his friends, but instead he was just carrying the videotapes from one side to the other and organizing them in the right section. he heard the door open but he didn’t look, he was sure that keith could handle it.

he was about to turn and make his way around one of the halls, his eyes locked on the pile of videos that he carried before he almost bumped into someone. he was lucky that he didn’t drop anything or else he was never going to hear the end of it. getting ready to argue with the person, steve finally looked up to find eddie. why was he blushing out of the sudden? he didn’t know. “eddie!” he said, a smile forming on his lips as he looked over at him, before clearing his throat. “what are you doing here? seems like we keep running into each other, right?” he asked with a smile, as he just stood there waiting for an answer from the other.

+++ 

‘act casual, just ... act casual.’, eddie thought to himself, desperately trying to appear relaxed and unbothered as he continued browsing through stacks of vhs tapes he had no intention of watching. no, he wasn’t at family video for the videos’ sake. his fingers traced over the rough plastic edges of the casing of ‘fast times at richmond high’ - eddie grimaced - and he walked down another aisle that he’d been in about three times already. stealing quick glances at the man behind the counter - the actual reason eddie had come to the store.

not keith, ugh, no, never. but steve harrington, this time without his seemingly ever-present attaché robin buckley, engrossed in his work. he hadn’t looked over at him yet, and, well, it would be awkward if he came up to greet him, wouldn’t it? so eddie waited, waited until steve would finally notice him. stupid. he felt like a teenager with a silly crush.

lost in though, he accidentally pulled on a case, scrambling to catch it before it fell. close one. when he turned back ‘round to steal another glance at steve, eddie found him standing right in front of him, a little too close to comfort. he cleared his throat, signature grin pulling at his lips. “my my, harrington, what a surprise.”, he said - as if he hadn’t come by almost every day since coming back to hawkins, seeing if steve finally had a shift without buckley ( much as eddie liked robin, he’d wanted to catch steve alone ). as if he hadn’t just ‘browsed’ through movies for a good half hour.

stupid. he’d gotten over his stupid crush on steve, it had done himno good, destined to end in heartache and lead nowhere. or so he’d thought - because locking eyes with steve, eddie felt himself get flustered, he nervously played with his rings. “what am i doing here? well, you gotta think real hard steve, what do people usually go to the video store for?”, he teased, moved a little closer, one hand placed on a nearby shelf, leaning against it, the other on his hip. he shrugged. “i’m waiting to receive that world famous customer service you got going on here.”

colemontgomeryx·:

Cole hadn’t realized what he’d gotten himself into by volunteering to bring a keg– scratch that, multiple kegs– to this shindig. It might not bother everyone, but the sticky beer dripping on the linoleum made Cole’s spine shiver, so he dug into his backpack for something to clean it up with. Digging to the very bottom, he found a black handkerchief. Perfect. Cole wiped down the side of the keg and the floor beneath it, and decided to perch nearby in order to nag people not to let it drip on the floor. Really, how hard was it?

In his bag, Cole caught a glimpse of his cigarettes and felt a familiar pang in his gut. Surely it wouldn’t be in bad taste to smoke inside, given the circumstances? Absentmindedly, he tucked the bandana in his back pocket and grabbed a cigarette. “Hope no one minds,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, and lit up.

Shutting his eyes, Cole allowed the blaring music to distract him from the fact that he was inside the mall where the love of his life died. Light stuff. He wasn’t mad at the music choice, surprisingly. Cole tried not to be pretentious about music, but he could only take so many days of people coming into the Music Center asking for the new Rick Astley or Whitney Houston. Thankfully, this music had some teeth. He wondered who’d been recruited to play it. 

When Cole opened his eyes to take another drag, he was shocked to see Eddie Munson running right at him. Cole leaned back instinctively, confusion written on his face, “Uh, sorry. What’d you call me?” He followed Eddie’s eyes to his pocket and pulled out the handkerchief. “Wait– flagging? I’m cleaning up the keg because these goddamned kids can’t be bothered to catch their beer…” he paused, suddenly curious. “What did you think?”

+++

shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. he should’ve known, should’ve known that this was a bad idea, should’ve known better than to ask a current resident of hicksville, indiana if he was flagging. stupid, stupid, god, what had he been thinking? nothing, apparently, and now his mind was wiped empty once more as he stared at cole blinking at him in confusion - and, what was that, curiosity? - as eddie scrambled for something to say. he cleared his throat. 

“never....mind.”, he said slowly, cautiously, tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. shit. eddie shook his head. “nothing, nothing. i just thought -” oh my god, munson, shut the fuck up. “i just - “ no matter how hard he tried to stop himself the words now fell freely from his lips. “well, i wondered if you...well, do you know someone named - “ if he didn’t stop talking right then and there he was going to explode. well, spontaneous human combustion it was, as he simply carried on. “are you...perhaps a friend of, uh. of dorothy’s ? “ a beat passed, eddie sucked on his bottem lip nerverously. he waved it off. “you know what....nevermind. nothing. it was stupid.”

he flashed him a pained grin, nodded, ‘right, then’,  and turned on his heel. already squeezing his eyes shut because oh, the embarassment now creeped up on him, made his cheeks flush. at the last minute he decided to turn back, walk back to cole. “can i bum a cig off you?” please, please, heaven, god, if there is one - eddie thought to himself as he stared at cole expectantly -  please just don’t let him bring it up again.

zccming·:

after starcourt–

after billy, it wasn’t uncommon to find max tucking herself away from the rest of the world. of course, she did that before too, but it came to a more extreme head in the following years. eventually, it developed into part of who she was. jaded, distant, sad. of course, she was a lot of other things, but tonight max was feeling like she was only those. she leaned back against a store front, staring at her half empty cup. it should’ve been you instead. vecna was only trying to get even with you. she didn’t remember a life before those thoughts decided to act up and rattle against her skull religiously every once in a while. max also found  that the memories of billy’s face, his lifeless body, and the chilled feeling in her feet liked to pair themselves with her guilty mantras. all these thoughts came with no solutions to permanently soothe them, and if there was an instruction manual, she was too stubborn to read it. her beer looked like blood in the dark. rather than moping, she should have anticipated that eddie at some point would come to check up on her, but she didn’t. 

jumping slightly at his approach, she sighed, “much fun as i can.” deflect, deflect, deflect. “you couldn’t have brought any crowd pleasers with you?” she teased in reference to his very obviously personal tunes blaring throughout the mall. “seriously, i can’t tell if it’s the beer, your music, or those upcoming hawkins high school seniors that are giving me this headache.” the words were harsh, but she managed to smile over at eddie when she asked in turn, “you having fun?”

+++

eddie rolled his eyes, lightly and playfully shoved her. “shut up.” he knew her well enough to know that max wasn’t a champion at talking openly about her feelings and what was bothering her - but then again, neither was he. and pressuring her into talking about something that triggered even more painful memories was the last thing he wanted. so he just shrugged, let her deflect all she wanted while he stood idly by. his presence and gaze screaming ‘ i am here, if you need me ‘. 

he dug in the inner pocket of his denim vest and pulled out a mixtape, shoved it at her. “here you go. nothing but crowdpleasers. top of the fucking pops.”, he grumbled, made a fake gagging noise and then threw a sly grin her way. “i came prepared, butthead. but so far no one’s complained about my tunes so...”, eddie trailed off, then narrowed his eyes and threw her a dirty look. “ - ‘cept for you! traitor.”

the mention of said hawkins high seniors made him involuntarily flinch, he clutched his beer tighter, eyes darting around the mall to spot the familiar green, white and yellow varsity jackets. they were kids, he tried to reassure himself, just kids, too young to have been part of the angry mob led by jason carver who had initiated the witch hunt. ‘ hunt the freak ‘. and to think that wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened that year. eddie hurriedly shook his head, as if trying to shake the thought out of his mind.

he turned back to max. “i should have an ibuprofen somewhere in my van. d’you want me to go get it for you? or, alternatively, you could always stop drinking that god-awful beer. tastes like straight up piss.”

where: blue quarry mall

who: eddie + max !

@zccming​​

despite popular belief, eddie wasn’t completely clueless. he was in a lot of matters, mostly concerning normal social interactions, but he wasn’t completely oblivious to what had happened those years ago on the very spot they were now standing, partying. after venturing through the upside down he’d been filled in on most of the gory details on what whack shit had taken place in hawkins and it had all started to make a little more sense.

presently, eddie knew, they were very much dancing on graves. of people who had died posessed by the mindflayer, people who had been ‘collateral damage’ and people who had heroically sacrificed themselves. people like billy hargrove.

he’d never been that close to billy, hadn’t come to known the guy that well, except for a few hushed drug deals here and there. their connection hadn’t gone past a somewhat acknowledging nod to one another at a metal gig. but eddie knew that, in a twisted way, he’d filled the position that billy had left -

- in max mayfield’s life. so he’d kept close watch of her througout the evening from his position next to the stereo. when he’d spotted her a little further away from the crowd, he’d quickly made his way over.

“hey kid. you good? having fun?”

where: blue quarry mall who: eddie + cole ! @colemontgomeryx​​

despite the inital apprehension, because he really didn’t need the hawkins police department all up in his business again, not when he’d been a murder suspect barely two years ago, eddie slowly felt himself relax, some of the tension slipping from his body. not all, ever since that upside down debacle he hadn’t been able to relax fully. but the beer helped - bless that kid who’d brought the keg - and the general air of...insanity that lingered amongst the party-goers and protesters.

the sounds of black sabbath filled the mall, eddie felt himself nodding along to the tune, and, hey, he really didn’t care that most of the people here had never heard of ozzy osbourne in their lives. they all seemed to have a great time, anyway. so he didn’t even need to whip out that tape of 1988′s top of the pops he’d recorded, just in case they’d want to burn him at the stake for seducing them with his evil satanic dnd music.

he leaned against a pillar, let his eyes wander among the crowed, took a sip of beer and - hey, there he was, that kid with the keg. definitely not a kid now that he got a proper look at him. eddie tilted his head, his mouth dropped open slightly and he craned his neck, pushed himself off the wall, because... wait a minute.

wait a damn minute. he narrowed his eyes, looked down and. holy shit. well, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him then that - yeah that - that was a bandana. dangling from his - cole’s - back pocket. on display. he nearly choked on his beer, coughed and, taking another sip to ease said cough, he booked it across the mall, tapped him on the shoulder.

“hey, man - cole.”, he said, held eye contact with him for perhaps a tad longer than was appropriate. cleared his throat, gestured down towards his own back pocket. a quick look left and right, they weren’t in hearing distance of anyone else. still, he lowered his voice. “hey man, are you... are you flagging?”

zccming​:

max narrowed her eyes while eddie showcased his outfit for her. she nodded, hand thoughtfully on her chin. “i don’t know, eddie.” she sighed as if she had bad news, then reached out and smacked her hand onto his shoulder, “you’re looking like the spitting image of callahan these days.” max grinned, then stepped back, crossed her arms, and resumed examining the storefront. max knew it wasn’t going to open if all she did was stand there and before she got the chance to sit on it some more, eddie was running through the inciting events with her. she didn’t deny the way he framed it. in fact, max nodded along, until she just had to interject, “okay? have you ever had karen wheeler look at you funny? it gets brutal after like…” she muttered a couple numbers under her breath, “five times.” 

there was an easiness that came in interacting with eddie. most of the time, max had to force herself to listen to and engage with other people. when it came to eddie though, she just did it, like it was built in. if she was inching anywhere near an edge of truly snapping in the face of this inconvenience, eddie’s laugh pushed her about fifty steps back. she gratefully accepted his hair pin, “yeah yeah. so beneath me.” max started for the back of the building. an exit without insult or profanity could be chalked up to a thank you from max. with eddie’s help and the guarantee of a few beers now on her side, she’d consider this outing a score. 

max took a grand total of fifteen minutes to round up all she needed to avoid mrs. wheeler’s stare of death before crossing the street back over to eddie’s van. she tossed her bag and then her skateboard inside without much care, then followed in suit. “we got like an hour before we should show up.” max announced, “we could go now but…” she sucked in on her teeth, “i don’t think we want be in the first wave of guests.” it was an annoying truth, but if max arrived to the wheeler household with eddie munson before the droves of people piled in, well, about a quarter of that target audience wouldn’t bother coming at all if they caught word. not needing to explain that, she flatly posed the next step, “so, how are we going to kill an hour?”

+++

he scrunched his nose, grimaced. “callahan?” listen, he’d heard a lot of insults in his life but this? and coming from max? “wow, that’s, - that’s the worst name i’ve ever been called. and isn’t that, like, before your time? aren’t you, like, twelve or something?” at her comment about wheeler he just shrugged with his palms held out. he’d never met the woman, didn’t usually hang about that part of town, but the way max described her - well, eddie wasn’t sure if inviting himself to that cookout was such a good idea after all. but fuck it. “the hell did you do that made mrs wheeler stare at you funny five times, max? that sounds more like a you problem if you ask me.”

and off she went, eddie looked around, made sure that no one around had seen her sneak off before he went back to his van. resisted the urge to turn up the music because they really didn’t need to draw any attention to themselves. he left the doors to the van wide open, sat side-ways in the driver’s seat, legs dangling out the door. then max returned with her secured goods, he lazily turned his head and watched as she climbed into the passenger seat. “sweet haul”, he said and nodded his head towards the stolen yield. “what did you get?”

he blew a raspberry. “an hour.”, he mused, fingers drumming on the dashboard. he’d been ready to slam his keys into the ignition and speed off but now, here they were, in the middle of downtown hawkins, after robbing a store on memorial day, with an hour to kill. eddie shifted so he sat properly in his seat, pulled the door shut and rolled the window down. “i don’t know, man. we could, like, chill in the sun somewhere? or hey, maybe the arcade’s open today?” he shrugged. “anywhere but here, dude. your choice. your wish is my command.”

colemontgomeryx·:

This was exactly what Cole had wanted to do all day: sit by the lake holding a book, giving him the perfect excuse to disassociate without being judged. But instead, he’s been all over town: helping Max break into a grocery store, getting roped into the Wheeler barbecue, and generally exhausting his already-low social battery. So he trudged through the vegetation to his favorite spot: an isolated bench just far enough away from the shoreline to be remote.

Or so he thought. A sudden burst of movement much too big to be a squirrel caused Cole to slow his steps, until he peered around the trees to see none other than Eddie Munson. Cole didn’t know Eddie very well, but everyone knew about Eddie. Personally, Cole didn’t believe the stories: Eddie was so not the kind of guy who could kill a cheerleader. Plus, Eddie was friendly with Max and Harrington, so he couldn’t be that weird. Geeky, maybe, but not creepy.

Setting his novel aside, Cole bent down to help Eddie pick up the figurines.Fuck, why were they so small? “Yeah, I’m good,” Cole said, handing over the three he’d collected. “Eddie, right? Were you leaving?” he asked, not wanting to kick Eddie out of his spot. “Hey… what are these, anyway?” Cole asked, standing up and brushing leaves off of his knees.

+++

He took them from Cole’s hand with an acknolwedging nod, slowly got up again once he had all figurines back safely in his lunch. Eddie dusted his palms off on his jeans, leaving stains but whatever, and finally looked up to meet the other person’s eyes. His own narrowed slightly, gears turning. “......Cole. You’re Cole, yeah?” And it sounded more like a statement than a question. But that’s Eddie for you, extremely awkward at times. He nodded - then...shook his head. “Yeah, I was headin’ out -”, he pointed behind himself with his thumb. “Like, soon as I heard some noise I was gonna get outta here. Not really looking for trouble, you know.”

He just...idly nodded to himself, clutched the handle of his metal box a little tighter. Until it dawned on him and his eyes narrowed again. “You’re not here to, like, beat me up, are you? Because I swear to God there are enough people in Hawkins looking to get a good punch in with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.”, he said, somewhat exasperatedly, and sigh deeply. He lifted his arms. “So if you are then, just, like, get it over with. I’m not looking for trouble.” And he closed his eyes, bared his cheek, brows drawn together, waiting for that painful hit to his jaw.

But it didn’t come. Tentatively, he opened one eye, the other still squeezed shut. But Cole wasn’t charging forward to pull him in by his collar and plant a punch, no, he was standing there rather....peacefully. Non-threatingly. Eddie lowered his arms. “Huh?” His eyes followed Cole’s gaze, dropped down to the lunch box. He blinked. “Oh, these? The little...”, he trailed off, gestured with his thumb in the directon of the metal box. “They’re...do you remember Hellfire Club? They’re for the next DnD campaign.”

stevehharringtcns​:

“you could have gotten my attention without almost getting yourself killed… we survived all of that stuff two years ago, don’t take it for granted by throwing yourself in front of a car…” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he looked over at eddie - he was pretty sure he would have never run over eddie, even on accident, he was confident that he was a pretty good driver - he was sure of it, actually. but he couldn’t do much if someone had jumped in front of his car. “so, you haven’t been back for long, i’m assuming? it’s like you forgot how good hawkins really is.” he said, teasingly, letting out a small chuckle as he started driving again, this time actually paying attention to the road and not letting himself get distracted by his thoughts - at least he had eddie to talk to while he drove to the wheelers’ house - he wasn’t sure how people would react to him bringing eddie, but people around seemed to like him.

at the question about him and nancy, steve sighed and shrugged his shoulders slightly. he should have expected for him to ask this, it was all people did when they saw him and he couldn’t blame them, but it was still uncomfortable to talk about it. “huh… there’s not really any trouble.” he lied, he wasn’t even sure how nancy felt after they split, but in his head everything seemed to be alright. “we just broke up… not that long ago. but we’re fine. i think, i really can’t be sure… if we haven’t talked since, you know, we broke up.” he said, as he kept his eyes locked on the road, not daring to look at eddie while he spoke about it.

his lips curled into a smile as he heard eddie talk, letting out a small chuckle as he heard that the other was still wreaking havoc. it didn’t surprise him that he was still doing that. “you know what, it is kind of weird not having you around, so i did kind of miss you, dude. it’s good to have you back, even if it’s just for the summer.” he said with a nod, now looking at eddie for a couple of moments and then back on the road. “well, you know, i’ve just been… working at the video store still. taking a few classes at the community college… not that much fun, as you can see, but that’s hawkins for you.” he said with a shrug.

+++

a wicked glint in his eyes, eddie grinned. “oh, but harrington - ‘to die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die’ “, he half-sung half-spoke the infamous smiths lyrics, watching steve with his brows raised in anticipation, to see if he’d get the reference. “you know? like the song?”

he rolled down the window, jesus it was hot outside, and put one arm behind his headrest, absent-mindedly drumming his fingers in the tune of the before mentioned smiths song. he shut his eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the soft breeze lightly grazing across his heated face, locks of dark brown, curly hair - all frizzy due to the humidity - flying about. eddie nodded, eyes still closed. “yeah, man. just got back yesterday,” and he scrunched up his nose at steve’s comment. “if anything i forgot how much hawkins smells like cow shit.” though there was some truth to steve’s words - eddie had, actually, missed hawkins. not the place itself, but the people still inhabiting that strange little town.

no way. he opened his eyes.“oh shit, man. i’m sorry.”, eddie said,his delivery a little awkward because...well, he sure as shit hadn’t seen that coming. after all that stuff with vecna, wheeler and harrington both risking their lives for one another without a second thought, well, eddie had thought they were bound to stay together, forever, or something along those lines. he shited in his seat, looked over at steve with a frown. “i didn’t know..” of course he hadn’t, eddie silently cursed himself. awkward social situations, not his forte. “do you wanna, like, uh...talk, or something- ?”, he trailed off, grimaced. “i mean, we don’t have to, i usualyl don’t - i’m not realyl good with - “, more wild gesturing before ddie dropped his hands in his lap with shrug. “yeah. whatever. i just mean that i got an ear to lend, steve. just so you know.”

a wide grin spread on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes, eddie dramatically clutched at his heart. “oh, harrington, you big old softie! how those words warm this cold, cynical heart with affection! i missed ya too.” with a laugh he stretched his arms over the seat again, both hands now behind his headrest. he caught steve’s eye, his thoughts momentarily trailed off because holy hell, why did harrington always have to look this pretty?

“you still working with buckley, i assume?” another person he definitely needed to pay a visit to sooner than later. “oh, community college, huh? you know, academic scholars are like, super hot.”, he said with a teasing grin. “what classes?”

rcbinbvckleys·:

⚢

summer. the time of year that her parents annually end up inviting all of their hippie friends and heading down to lovers lake to reminisce about all the crazy shit they used to get up to as teenagers — robin could only ever hope to escape from such an event. it always resulted in the over sharing of way too many details concerning nude bodies diving into filthy water, not to mention the guy who insisted she call him uncle throwing his arm around her shoulder and jovially asking when it would be her turn to do that with her own friends. gross.

usually she’d take a dip in the water, but after ‘watergate’, she’d steered well clear. thus robin was bored, so incredibly bored. she chewed at the skin of her thumb, glancing over at the group of adult as they all laughed in unison. she supposed it was nice for her parents to have something like this to look forward to. she just wished she didn’t have to be a part of it every single year. come to think of it… no one was watching. surely they were too intoxicated and self-involved to notice if she snuck away, just for a few moments. she probably shouldn’t , just in case one of the real-life monsters of hawkins were to make a surprise appearance after two whole years. but selfishly she thought that right now, she’d much rather take that than endure a single minute longer of this.

hopping to her feet, robin slowly crept into the cover of the trees, taking the occasional look behind her. no one had seen her, just as planned. although things were apparently going too well, as barely a moment or two later, she stepped on a stick which gave way underneath her weight and with a stumble, she came out into a clearing.

“holy shit. eddie?” hands gripped onto both his forearms, an attempt to steady herself before letting go so he could gather his figures. he was definitely a sight for sore eyes. wait, hadn’t eddie escaped hawkins to go to chicago or someplace? he definitely had because she’d been longing to join him and do the exact same thing but then again, she couldn’t leave steve in hawkins. he’d probably spontaneously combust, or even worse, get himself killed. “why of all places would you come back to hawkins, huh? i thought you finally made it out of here!”

+++

he made sure that he’d gathered all the figurines and put them back into his box before he dusted his palms off on his trousers, got up, turned his head and met eyes with -

“fucking hell!” lips twisting into an incredulous smile, he set the box aside and, much like she had done moments prior, he grabbed hold of her arms. not for balance, but rather to make sure she was actually physically there, that it wasn’t his mind or the heat playing tricks on him. no, she was real. “art mine eyes deceiving me? or do i truly find myself within the presence of robin buckley? holy hell!”

and there’s no stopping himself - he’s really usually not this physical but fuck that - because he wasted no time pulling robin into a tight yet short hug. “nostalgia, i guess.”, he said with a shrug, grin never leaving his face. “my boss is travelling the states, closed the shop down for the sumemr. figured i’d come here. uh, do a campaign for the club, check on my uncle and all of you guys still stuck here.”

he had perhaps failed to mention that he’d been incredibly homesick during the last couple of months, for whatever reason. as much as he hated hawkins he could think of no better place to spend his summer. “what about you, huh? i’d figured you’d have gotten outta here already. what happened?”

willthewize·:

    Seeing Eddie jump up like he’s on fire, startled by the simple sound of a footstep, is almost saddening enough to overtake the joy Will feels upon seeing one of his heroes back in town. The reminder that even though they were hopefully done with all the shit that gave them nightmares, life didn’t just automatically go back to normal, no matter how much they wanted it to…It was the kind of thing Will tended to push down, save for later (and later was more of a fluid, conceptual thing, than a real time-frame.) So he focuses on the miniatures that had spilled from Eddie’s lunchbox.

     “Hey, it’s fine. It’s just me,” he answers the other guy’s muttered apologies as he gets down, not only to be on eye-level and show that he’s no threat, but to help pick up the tiny figures—hand-made and painted with evident care. Will pauses to admire them, turning an inch-tall monster over between his fingers. “These are amazing. Did you make these for the next campaign? Shit, should I not be looking at them?” In the interest of not spoiling the fun of the upcoming Hellfire game for himself, he carefully places the miniatures back in the box and stands, dusting his hands off before holding one out to Eddie to help him up, if desired.

     “So, you’re in town! You have a bunch of D&D figures. When’s the meeting?”  Will wastes no time beating around the bush. There are few things more exciting to him than the prospect of a Hellfire Club reunion hosted by the one and only, the original, Eddie Munson himself.

+++

“Ah - hey! Byers junior! What’s up, man?” And Eddie instantly, involunatrily relaxes once he realizes that it’s not just anyone it’s Will and hell, he’s glad to see him. A sight for sore eyes, he is - and how could he not be, when Eddie himself had appointed him Dungeon Master upon his exit from Hawkins. He grins, the sight of Will did remind him why he popped back into his hometown every now and again, but his grin quickly fades into a paniced expression, a tring of  “Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” falling from his lips as he quickly - but carefully - gathers all miniatures from the ground and pops them back into his lunch box.

He accepts Will’s offer to help him up, dusts his palms off on his knees, thus leaving dirt on his ripped jeans but hey, whatever. “Well, duh. I’ve not, like, gone into the figurine trading business so yeah, they’re for the next campaign.” And with a grimace, he adds: “And you were definitely not supposed to see them. Well, fuck it.”

Will immediately resumes talking and the grin returns to Eddie’s lips because this? The anticipation and excitement in Will’s eyes? That’s a feeling unparalleled and Eddie lives for it. If making the freaks and outcasts and nerds of the world feel happy was this easy then, hell, why shouldn’t he go and do it? Why would he stop, just because he’s not in school anymore, just because he’s not living in Hawkins?

He nods. “Yup, I’m in town, I got the goods.”, he nods towards the box. “I was thinking maybe, like, next week-ish? Or the week after?”, Eddie shrugs, absent-mindedly pulls the bandana from his back pocket to wipe his hands off the remaining dirt. “I don’t know, I’m here all summer. Any word from Henderson or Mike?”

zccming·:

.

before max could even get mad, she was grateful. eddie came to visit often, but it wasn’t often enough by max’s standards. after the dust settled, eddie and herself struck up an odd little friendship in those last few weeks before he finally managed to hop into that cap and gown then leave. it consisted of meals spent together, regular check-ins, and generally good, quality time. with her mom still out of it, it was the closest semblance to family max had in a long time. so of course, it sucked when he left. but it was an even better feeling when eddie eventually made his rounds back. she didn’t like to clue anyone into how much either meant to her, though. same as now, she stifled her reaction and took the hug in stride. 

“i thought you were the cops.” max lied, pulling away. there was no time to be wasted with the when did you get in?s or the how long are you in town?s. “there’s a barbecue at the wheeler’s. you can come if you want.” she explained with a hefty sigh, as if she wouldn’t eat up every second of suburban normalcy. “i’m trying to get something to bring.” she gestured to the store, “didn’t have anything at home, don’t want to show up empty handed, here i am.” max glanced back to the road where she had discarded her rock, then looked up at eddie with a faint smirk, “i mean, how bad would it really be if i smashed through the front? nobody would know.” then she added, as if it were a perfectly good point, “and it’d be pretty cool if i were maybe able to…i don’t know…snag a couple of beers and bring them to my friends?”

+++

eddie was an only child, didn’t really have any family except for his uncle, but if you were to catch him in a vulnerable moment, there was a seventy percent chance he’d list max as a family member. he returned to hawkins semi-regularly,but if it weren’t for max he surely wouldn’t come back just as often. his uncle was fine, after all, got on great on his own, eddie wasn’t too worried there. but, jesus, with all the shit max had gone through ever since moving to hawkins - well, he just liked to make sure she was ok.

“do i look like a cop to you? be honest.” eddie gave her a ltitle tiwrl, showing off his outfit - black ripped jeans, worn out converse - not docs like he usually wore but how was he expected to survive in boots in this weather ? - black muscle shirt and his denim vest. and, of course, that ever present black bandana dangling from his back pocket. “‘cause if there are cops in hawkins looking like this well, shit, i might just have to go an join the force.”

eddie clicked his tongue, narrowed his eyes as he looked back and forth between max and the store. “ok, so, let me get this straight, yeah - you’re invited to a barbecue at the wheelers” - he emphasized the name, paused afterwards - “and instead of showing up there and going ‘oh sorry! i spaced, my bad, all store’s are closed’  your next immediate thought is ‘oh, you know what, let me fucking .... break into melvald’s and smash in the front’. just so karen wheeler won’t look at me funny.” 

he stared at her for a moment, feigning outrage before he erupted into loud laughter. eddie softly shook his head, dug into the pocket of his jeans to produce a hairpin. “thought i taught you better than that. take this -”, he thrust it into her hand, looking at her intently - “ and pick the lock in the back, and, like, grab some... i don’t know, some barbecue-y stuff.” he shrugged. “my van’s parked across the street, meet me back there once you’ve secured the good. i got a couple of six-pack’s in the back, so at least you don’t have to steal alcohol. ‘cause that’s like so beneath you, maxine.”

he grinned. truthfully, eddie could think of a about a thousand better ways to spend his afternoon that lounging in karen wheeler’s backyard, getting dirty looks from hawkins’ good society. but whatever, it was gonna be worth it if it meant he got to spend some time with max.

stevehharringtcns·:

.

steve couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted that the person in front of his car (and that he had almost ran over with his car) was no other than eddie. he was pretty convinced that he had walked in front of his car on purpose, but then again, he couldn’t really be surprised by that - it was eddie after all. he couldn’t help but to chuckle at the other’s reaction to seeing him. only eddie would react like that, but at least someone was glad to see him. he couldn’t imagine nancy’s reaction when she spotted him, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “what the hell are you doing, munson? you can’t just jump in front of my car like that, i could have killed you!” he continued his protests, but this time he had a smile on his face, shaking his head slowly as he laughed.

before he knew it, eddie was making his way inside of his car and before he could say anything about it, he was being pulled into a hug by the other, which made him chuckle awkwardly as he patted his back. “alright, alright, munson, don’t get too emotional just by my presence. it’s not like i went anywhere, you’re the one that has been missing from hawkins.” he said, shaking his head slightly as he kept patting the other’s back until he finally was pulled way from the hug.

staring at eddie as he invited himself over to the barbecue, steve thought to himself: it would be better if he showed with someone else, right? it would be less awkward than just showing up on his own and having to deal with the wheeler family all by himself. right? “i don’t think she’ll mind… but it’s not like i can ask her either way, so… the wheeler barbecue it is then.” he said as he started driving again, not thinking twice as he started making his way towards the wheeler house. “what have you been up to, munson? don’t tell me you came back to hawkins, after all this time?” he asked, a smirk showing up in his features as he drove.

+++

he shrugged. “had to get your attention somehow, didn’t i?” wide beaming smile fixed on his lips, eddie settled into the seat with a sigh, lifting his hips to pull the bandana from his back pocket. perhaps the hug had been a bit much, he thought to himself as he patted away a sheen of sweat on his forehead. he gave steve a sheepish smile. “sorry, man, didn’t mean to get all...”, he gestured between them with his hands, then dropped them in his lap. “it’s just you’re, like, the first friendly face i’ve come across here, ‘cept for my uncle, of course. and that means a lot, at least in hawkins, you know.”<7small>

although steve and eddie were... well, friends - bound together by that fucking whacky shit they’d gone through two years ago - eddie’s brow still twitched in anticipation as he awaited steve’s reply. he was still afraid of rejection, even after two years of keeping in contact. platonic rejection, though - yeah, no, eddie was pretty damn sure steve was as straight as they come. he’d put the moves on him during their time fighting vecna, really, come to think of it he’d never flirted as shamelessly with anyone else. dropping hints left, right and center, to no avail. until he’d moved to chicago and, well, had been forced to give up pursuing steve, for his own good.

but whatever. eddie noticed the sudden shift in tone as steve talked about nancy and cocked an eyebrow, buckling th seatbelt as he spoke. “huh? trouble in paradise, harrington? are you and wheeler, like, doing okay, or...?” a sort of open ended question, leaving it to steve to fill him in on the details he wanted to share.

he stretched his arms above his head, slipped his bandana back into his pocket. “oh, i’ve been up to all sorts of things. y’know. wreakig general havoc here and there, same old, in true munson fashion.”, he said and gave him a grin. “god, no, i’m only back for the summer, stevie. why? did you miss me?”

“you been up to anything fun, harrington?”

stevehharringtcns·:

who: steve harrington & open

where: middle of the road

what was he doing? was he really about to go to a barbecue that was being thrown at the wheeler’s house? he had been invited, of course, but something didn’t feel right on just showing up there. how was he going to react when he saw nancy? and worst of all, how was she going to react? all of these thoughts were going through his mind as he drove - he should have been paying the attention to the road, but luckily he snapped out of his own head just in time to spot someone crossing the road right in front of his car. without even thinking, steve hit the brakes as hard as he could, his body leaning forward with the abrupt stop and before he knew it, he was honking the horn in protest, before sticking his head out of the window to get a better look at the person who was standing in front of his car.

“what the hell are you doing, dingus? you can’t just… walk in front of my car like that, you could have damaged it! i mean, you could have gotten hurt.” steve said, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair - both of them had been lucky, he thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “you going to the wheeler barbecue or what?” he asked, once it got awkward enough - they couldn’t just be there forever and the person didn’t seem to move, and steve definitely couldn’t run over them.

this was, objectively, awful. eddie was walking along the side of the road - not totally sure where he was - heaving and groaning and overall in a sour mood, dragging his feet like a little kid tired of walking. who'd have thought hawkins got this fucking hot in summer? he'd looked forward to getting away from the vicious chicago sun but had found his former hometown positively scalding, temperatures steadily climbing. he'd gone out to chill at his former favourite spot, that bench in that clearing in the woods behind hawkins high, to get a little piece of mind, have a smoke, be alone with his thoughts for a moment. he'd gone out there at, like, 12 this morning.

now, eddie wasn't sure what time it was, he'd forgotten his watch at home, but it was definitely past 12. he hadn't meant to fall asleep, it just happened. he'd only wanted to close his eyes for a couple minutes, next thing he knew he'd dozed off and awoken to bright piercing sunlight and what was definitely going to be a wicked sunburn on the back of his neck. some punk had stolen his bike so eddie was reduced to finding his way back to the trailer park.

he didn't know how long he'd been walking out there, leathe racket tied around his waist, only wearing a muscle shirt - he'd left the vest at home, which was inherently stupid because that vest was his best feature - pants cuffed, familiar black bandana dangling out of his back pocket. no cars had passed him, until -

- "harrington....?" eddie blinked a couple of times, made sure that this wasn't a heat induced hallucination. no, definitely, without a doubt, that was steve harrington's car. his fave lit up immediately, lips twisting into a big smile as he did the only thing he could think of. which was jumping in front of his car.

"harrington!", he called out, skillfully ignoring steve's outraged comments. he waved at him eagerly, then made his way around the hood of the car and yanked open the door to the passenger seat. "are my eyes deceiving me? do I truly find myself within the presence of king steve?"

he climbed into the passenger seat, stopped himself short of pulling steve into a hug. pull yourself together, man. the grin never left his face, leg bouncing excitedly because holy hell, that's steve and eddie's been looking forward to seeing him again for ages now.

"the wheelers barbecue? - well, im going now.", he said with an eager nod, pulled the door shut. "wheeler won't mind if you bring a plus one, will she?"

zccming·:

WHO: max mayfield && open.

WHERE: outside of melvald’s general store.

this wasn’t max’s most…well-thought-out plan, but she had ransacked the trailer for anything she could bring to the wheeler’s barbecue. and she was pretty sure cereal or swanson’s tv dinners wouldn’t cut it.  as she skated her way downtown in hopes of a miracle, she brainstormed what she could bring that wouldn’t be too complicated. she came up with the likes of doritos or boxed pasta salad. of course, when max pulled up to melvald’s and tugged at the doors, they were locked. melvald’s, like the hawk, and every other godforsaken business in this town just had to be closed. “shit…” she breathed out, scanning her surroundings. not a car in sight…not a person … but there was a rock. maybe if she just…she could get away with it…

max scooped it up from the ground and raised her arm to chuck it through the window, but she felt these eyes on her.  turning around, max initially jumped at the sight of another person. hadn’t she checked for people? in a swift recovery, max rolled her eyes and frowned, “asshole. you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” as if to explain herself, she stepped forward and gripped the handles once more, “it’s locked.”  after chucking the rock out into the road, max placed her hands on her hips, then eyed the other, “i need in, like now.” then as a hint to help or get lost she asked, “got any better ideas?” 

+++

well, wasn’t this one hell of a way to say ‘welcome back’? eddie raised his brows, sighed heavily and over-dramatically as he buried his hands in his pockets, lazily crossing the road to make his way over to max. “’hello’.”, he said, pursed his lips. “’welcome’. ‘hi’. ‘how’s it going, man’. ‘sup’ . even ‘good day’”, said with a bow of sorts. he came to a halt before her, brows pulled together to a frown. “out of all the phrases and greetings to choose from she settles on ‘asshole’. classic max mayfield.”

his stern expression quickly fades into a wide smile, eddie’s face practically lit up, as he surged forward, scooping max up into a tight hug. he’d only just gotten back into town yesterday, hadn’t had a chance to say hello yet, and out of all the people he wanted to check in with - which didn’t consist of a lot of people, seeing as he was still shunned by most of the population of hawkins - her name was at the top of his list. “so, what’s up, you little shit?”, he asked once he’s set her down again. “getting yourself into trouble again, same old, same old. what ever could be so pressing you need to break into melvald’s for ?”

eddie’s tag dump !

Desensitised?

A scream erupted outside as I was at my desk on warm Thursday evening. I went about my tasks; A scream erupted at midnight as I was scrolling through my phone. I went on with my leisure time; unbothered I could on with the number of times something as such had already occurred, but could I even recall? I can however, recall a shrill cry of pain I had heard two days ago and I was about to go on…

YOU'RE  BIG.  LARGER  THAN  LIFE.  she’s  heard  that  before.  in  a  voice  that  sounded  like  rafaels,  but  wasn't his.  close—painfully  so—  but  not  quite  as  deep.  the  familiarity  is  bittersweet,  endearment  and  affliction  flickering  through  her  almost  as  quickly  as  the  lights  around  them.  kennedy  is  glad  his  back  is  to  hers  then,  grateful  for  the  bodies  he  has  to  navigate  through,  taking  advantage  of  those  extra  seconds  gained  to  compose  herself  before  they  reach  their  destination.  “used  to?”  an  eyebrow  quirks  at  that,  lips  parted  in  a  silent  scoff.  “don’t  give  up  on  me  yet!  i  still  have  time.”  that's  what  they  would  like  to  tell  themselves  anyways.  that  one’s  life  isn’t  over  if  they  don’t  achieve  all  their  goals  by  age thirty.  that  her  return  to  redcreek  didn’t  mean  she  failed.  it  was  only  temporary. 

now  settled  by  the  bar,  kennedy  is  suddenly  aware  of  how  much  they  have  had  to  drink.  the  room  was  still  swaying  even  though  they  no  longer  were.  they  blink,  slowly,  the  buzz  from  the  liquor  washing  over  them  like  a  blanket,  warm  and  heavy.  maybe  that’s  why  it’s  easy  to  make  promises  for  next  time.  to  get  caught  up  in  the  excitement  of  reconnecting  with  him.  as  if  she  hadn’t  spent  the  last  years  carefully  curating  a  distance  between  them.  “yeah?  are  you  saying  i  can  just  show  up  one  day  and  ask  for  that  dance?  i  know  where  you  work,  velazquez.”  she  flashes  him  a  pleased  grin  as  he  slides  the  drink  her  way,  quick  to  raise  the  glass  to  her  lips.  “it  suits  you,  by  the  way.  the  tattoo  shop.  you  always  were  the  creative  one.”

isn’t  that  right,  joaquin?

the  thought  arises,  a follow-up that feels as natural as breathing,  but  gets  lodged in  her  throat  when  she  turns  to  share  a  look  with…  NO  ONE.  picture  frames  of  tender  moments,  but  no  house  to  hold  them  anymore.  is  that  what  grief  is?  as  rafael  leans  into  her  initial  touch,  her  hand  flattens  against  his  skin,  the  pads  of  her  fingers  pressing  weakly,  as  if  to  check  if he’s  really  here.  she only catches the tail end of his question, gaze flickering to meet his once more.  “no.”  she  breathes  out,  a  subtle  rasp  in  her  voice,  that  knot  tightening  over  her  chords.  dark  hues  scan  his  face,  committing  every  feature  to  memory.  as  if  he  too  was  going  to  disappear  the  moment  she  let  go.  “you  look  beautiful.”   once  again  taking  his  lead,  dropping  by  her  guard  to  reveal  an  unexpected  moment  of  sincerity  in  the  least  ideal  setting.  only  this  time,  she  doesn’t  have  the  time  to  think twice before another slip—  “i  really  missed  you,  you  know  that?”  

at  that,  rafael  laughs  -  a  small  shake  of  his  head  all  that's  needed  for  a  few  stray  stands  to  fall  over  his  eyes.  eyelashes  blinking  through  them  to  watch  her,  "i'd  love  to  see  what  you'd  do  with  that  power,  kennedy  -  you're,  big.  larger  than  life."  it's  something  joaquin  would  say;  the  memories  barely  skim  the  surface  of  his  thoughts  -  he  strikes  a  rainboot  through  them,  sinks  them  further.  "used  to  think  you'd  -  conquer  the  whole  world."  it's  genuine,  too  genuine  for  the  club  -  for  the  crowd  around  them,  for  the  buzz  at  the  back  of  his  head,  warming  where  spine  meets  skull.  "yeah,"  he  agrees,  easily;  a  passing  laugh,  "but  it's  still  true,  either  way."

his  forearms  meet  the  edge  of  the  bar,  still  close  to  kennedy  -  still  allowing  space  between  them.  it's  the  most  they've  spoken  since  -  since  then.  for  once;  rafael  doesn't  want  to  think  about  it.  "you  know  where  to  find  me,  ken  -  door's  always  welcome  for  a  good  -  waltz."  beer  left  on  the  counter,  rafael's  turned  towards  them,  sliding  the  tequila  sunrise  her  way.  he's  always  one  to  lean  into  touch,  subconscious  as  their  finger  hooks  onto  him.  another  laugh  escapes  him,  so  easy.  "you're  the  first  one  to  get  it,  i  think  -  yeah,  the  tall  guy.  dunno...  felt  easy,  at  the  time.  now  i'm  feeling  a  bit  like  a  -  misplaced  film  bro.  do  the  wings  make  me  look  pretentious,  ken?  you  can  -  be  honest,  with  me.  can  handle  the  truth."

even with the defensive action of raising his hands up, the silence that ricardo offers only serves to fuel the fire raging within kennedy. it brings them right back to that halloween night—the walk to redstone just hours after hearing the news. the body. the cold chill in the air. ricardo, glossing over the moment kennedy tried to stand up for themselves, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. like they didn’t matter. that memory claws at them now as he takes time to process. think. whatever the hell he does when he doesn't want to hear her nagging anymore. they stand there for a moment, dumbfounded, resisting the urge to snap their fingers at him to hurry it along. "respectfully? i don't have the time to watch you disassociate, right now."

ricardo's helpful reminder of where they stand in the register's hierarchy doesn't go unheard. they scoff at it, jaw clenching in useless defiance. “then act like it” they spit, stepping closer until they're right in front of his desk. they plant their hand flat onto his desk, pinning the article they brought in beneath their palm. “work with me.” the words teeter between a demand and a plea, frustration lacing each syllable. “you could have called me,” kennedy presses, their voice lowering, but no less tight. “i would’ve picked up. we could have pushed it. we could have worked together." that was the root of their issue with this. their biggest strife with ricardo.

harsh expectations? kennedy was used to those. thrived under them even. it was his dismissal of her ability that enraged her. made it difficult not to take his decision to run the story personally when it was paired with diminishing comments like 'wine and gossip' along with a refusal to relay where he got the intel. someone had to have given this information to ricardo. out of everyone in the register... why him? what the hell did he have that they didn't? "don't be petty with me, ricardo." they warn, the mention of their book striking a fresh new chord. "you have no right to tell me what this is bigger than. this isn't your town." they straighten then, squaring their shoulders. "you don't want to tell me where you got this intel? fine. i'll figure it out myself." if ricardo wants to keep secrets between them, kennedy will do what they do best. they will dig.

kennedy's words are true - that's the worst thing . kennedy is the smartest person in this shithole town and they don't even realise it . his eyes are careful as they watch her finger raise . he hasn't seen anyone this mad at him in a long time ( forgetting taylan , that was just for fun ) . ricardo holds up his hands , a long sigh leaving him . he opens his mouth , but finds it slide closed again . kennedy's words ring in his ears . FUCKED US . FUCKED ME . for a moment , he lets the silence wash over them . his breathing is out of tune with his heartbeat . why didn't he share it ? why didn't he text them or effie ? why does he make a bad situation worse ? he doesn't have answers for her . " may i remind you that i'm your BOSS ? " ricardo says instead , but his voice isn't as heated as he'd normally have it . he almost feels like a child scolded and can't help look down at the newspaper scrunched on his desk with some uncomfortableness now . " there was 15 minutes until print . i didn't have time to have a wine and gossip with you and effie . " he presses his mouth closed , eyes zeroiing back in on the image of bronte and daniela mid-argument . " i don't owe you an explanation . i did what was best for right now ." he tears his gaze from the newspaper , jaw locking . " daniela is missing . people are dying . this is bigger than just you wanting your next failed attempt at a new york times best seller . "

the   two   painted   an   amusing   contrast   against   the   sterile   backdrop   of   redcreek’s   pharmacy.   taylan,   fiery   and   impatient,   his   vivid   red   energy   pushing   past   vikram’s   more   solemn   blue.   "oh,   sorry."   sass   was   not   something   that   had   ever   come   naturally   to   vikram.   apologies   did.   always   something   to   be   sorry   for   when   your   dignity   is   paper   thin.   and   that’s   exactly   what   he   offers   now,   raising   a   hand   instinctively   in   submission   as   he   steps   aside.   he   had   fully   expected   their   interaction   to   end   there   so   when   taylan   speaks   again,   it   catches   vikram   fully   off   guard,   eyes   widening   as   the   other's   crude   humor   rings   in   the   air,   almost   as   loud   as   the   bell   he   was   relentlessly   pressing   a   moment   prior.

'business   is   blooming.'   vikram   clears   his   throat   at   that,   shifting   awkwardly   in   place.   “uh,   yeah,   i   suppose   it   is.”   brows   twitch   into   a   frown   at   his   own   reply.   immediately,   vikram   can   tell   this   conversation   will   be   one   he   regrets.   one   that   his   mind   will   save   into   the   memory   of   his   brain   and   safely   tuck   away   at   the   corner   of   his   mind   specifically   reserved   for   remembering   any   time   he   puts   his   foot   in   his   mouth.   for   anyone   wondering,   throwing   azi   under   the   bus   in   his   police   interview   is   stashed   away   in   there   as   well.   he   draws   in   a   sharp   breath,   trying   again,   more   composed   this   time.   “they’re   probably   at   lunch   and   forgot   to   put   up   a   sign.”   better   to   address   the   younger   man’s   actual   question   than   the   colorful   way   he   expressed   it.   “or   maybe   they   did   put   one   up,   and   we’re   both   equally   awful   at   noticing   it.”   there’s   a   hint   of   a   joke   in   his   tone   as   his   eyes   flicker   to   the   'no   smoking'   sign   hanging   in   the   crook   of   the   reception   counter,   right   above   the   forgotten   ashes   of   taylan’s   cigarette.

where : red creek pharmacy status : closed with @brntout

with a cigarette dangling between his lips and insomnia looming underneath his eyes , taylan's days and nights blend into an aching mess that he can’t ease with the pills that he takes . years of playing hockey and fighting on the ice led him to shed blood , and steal from others without repercussions . but one accident had pulled on a loose thread making everything come undone . unraveling a poorly stitched pattern that his coach attempted to stitch close over the years with the help of painkillers . no pharmacist in sight and patience running thin . rough , careless and blowing out a waft of smoke , taylan pushes past vikram and leans against the counter , disregarding the no - smoking sign as if it were mere decoration . impatiently , he presses the call bell , over and over again . ding , ding , ding , resounds and bounces against the the pharmacy walls . “ think they died ? ” toying with the cherry at the end of his cigarette , taylan burns the pad of his thumb before pressing it out on the reception desk , leaving a dark marring spot behind . “ for all we know , the boogeyman gutted them in the back , and we have one less pharmacist in this town . ” too soon . “ congrats business is blooming for you . ”

location : redstone bar

time : evening

for: nadia(@hypnotiscd)

"you know, i was actually watching love is blind with june the other day." he has his designated spot on the couch of her apartment— the side with the missing leg, where he remains still as a rock until it's time for him to leave out of fear of it buckling under his movement. "she thinks it's a load of bull but... i don't know. there's something kind of sweet about it." did the experiment have it's flaws? sure. did he become embarrassingly invested in everyone's journey? of course. he glances over at nadia, an easy smile present as he speaks. with how heavy redcreek was feeling recently, the levity gained from grabbing a drink with her and talking mindlessly about something so silly was relieving. "maybe i should apply." it's only a half-joke, emphasized by the sheepish laugh that escapes him. he brings the bottle of beer to his lips for a swig before offering a shrug, "i don't know. beats whatever i've been doing." which has been sitting pretty at the funeral home, waiting for love to knock at his doorstep like some sort of hallmark movie.

while micaela studies her wine, vikram keeps his gaze on her. solely on her. he doesn’t rush to fill the spaces she leaves open, doesn’t move to urge her to speak again. never one to push for someone to reveal more of themselves than what they were comfortable with. when her eyes finally lift to meet his, he offers a small, almost imperceptible smile—not cheerful, not trying to fix anything. just there. present. he holds her gaze, something he normally struggles with, but not in moments like this. not with her. he takes notice of how the candlelight further softens her features, adding warmth to her mournful eyes. it's beautiful. it's devastating.

vikram has seen grief in every form—raw, quiet, angry, numb—a tangled mix of it all. he’s seen how it hollows people out. how losing someone also meant burying fragments of yourself with them. mourning both the past and the future. memories lost and never gained. “grief doesn’t have a handbook,” he says, his voice quiet, steady. “not really. there are tips, things to try, stories from people who’ve been through it so you don’t feel so alone... but a guide?” he shakes his head slowly, “it’s too layered for that. it doesn’t follow rules, doesn’t care about time or logic. one moment, it lets you breathe, the other it just... knocks the wind out of you. that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.” he shifts forward slightly, his hands resting lightly on the table, his voice dipping lower, gentler. “it’s okay not to know what to do with it mic. really. sometimes, just feeling it—letting yourself feel it—is enough.” if there is anything he can offer micaela, it's the affirmation that she is doing her best and that he sees it. "—and if i can be someone to help you carry it, micaela. i would gladly do it." he hopes she knows that.

𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖢𝖤   :   lakeside   grill. 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧   :   vikram   shah,   @brntout.

               micaela   stared   into   her   glass,   watching   the   light   from   the   candle   flicker,   the   soft   glow   bouncing   off   the   red   wine.   she   let   her   fingers   trace   the   rim,   trying   to   focus   on   the   rhythm   of   the   motion,   anything   to   distract   her   from   the   heaviness   of   the   conversation,   the   burden   of   the   grief   she   carried   so   quietly.   she   hadn’t   expected   it   to   feel   like   this   ┈   so   easy   to   let   her   guard   down,   so   easy   to   be   honest.   with   everyone   else,   she   had   to   keep   the   walls   up.   she   had   to   keep   moving   forward,   smiling,   pretending   everything   was   fine.   but   with   vikram,   it   felt   like   the   air   was   different.   it   was   like   he   understood,   even   when   she   didn’t   say   a   word.   his   silence   wasn’t   uncomfortable,   it   was   ...   safe.   she   didn’t   have   to   fill   it   with   explanations   or   forced   words.   for   the   first   time   in   so   long,   she   didn’t   have   to   fake   anything.                her   eyes   flicked   up   at   him,   his   calm   presence   holding   her   steady.   “   i   still   can’t   believe   she’s   gone,   ”   she   said   quietly,   the   words   heavy   on   her   tongue.   she   felt   her   breath   catch,   but   there   was   a   strange   comfort   in   just   saying   it   out   loud.   “   some   days,   it   doesn’t   feel   real,   ”   she   continued,   her   voice   faltering,   a   lump   in   her   throat   she   couldn’t   swallow.   “   and   other   days,   it   feels   like   everything’s   too   much   to   bear.   ”   the   words   were   raw,   but   they   didn’t   feel   like   they   were   ripping   her   open   the   way   they   did   when   she   kept   them   locked   away.   she   thought   about   the   days   since   her   mom’s   death,   all   the   days   she’d   carried   it   alone,   trying   to   be   strong,   to   keep   it   together   for   everyone   else.   and   now,   with   vikram,   she   didn’t   have   to.   she   realized   she   hadn’t   allowed   herself   to   truly   feel   it,   not   until   now.   she   wasn’t   sure   if   it   was   his   quiet   understanding   or   the   fact   that   he   didn’t   expect   her   to   have   the   answers,   but   she   suddenly   felt   the   freedom   to   just   ...   be.   “   i   don’t   know   what   to   do   with   all   of   it,   ”   she   murmured,   her   voice   barely   above   a   whisper,   her   gaze   dropping   back   to   her   wine.   “   but   i   think   i’m   learning   that   it’s   okay   to   let   someone   else   carry   some   of   it,   even   if   just   for   a   little   while.   ”

"you're preaching to the choir, kingsley. i know he's bad news. " they reply, dry and unamused, arms crossed over their chest. "for what it's worth, i think there's something seriously wrong with him. like, he didn't get enough hugs as a kid so now he's making it everyone's problem. or maybe he got held back in the fourth grade like that everett kid did. if only he had been born with the same sense of humor. " they gesture with their chin for him to scoot over so that they can settle themselves next to him on the booth. "that's cus we're old school, man. have filing cabinets dating back to the eighties or something. i bet you that website hasn't been updated in the past decade." kingsley moves to justify his intrusive and illegal way of investigating and kennedy can't help but smile at him. reminded that kingsley tau always one to move to the beat of his own drum. then claim the drum was planted by the us government to attract alien life forms. "oh so you were just looking out for me, is that it? how chivalrous." they pause then, a thought suddenly blooming in their mind. "hey..." they begin, voice lowering more to a whisper. "what are the chances you would be able to hack into his email for me? ricardo's."

○    NOW DELIVERING TO . . .    ⏤ @brntout !

kingsley looks down at his laptop , which is open to the backend admin access for the register's official website ( he'd wanted to stretch his fingers and mind with this hack - but there isn't much to look at in there , sadly ) . then , he looks at kennedy . a flash of guilt writes its way onto his face . a silent : BUSTED . " the register is owned and operated by a man who is pro - authoritarian , pro - establishment and pro - consumerism . " he pauses , wondering if his usual FUCK THE WORLD rant will work with kennedy . he doubts it . kingsley sighs and closes his laptop . " i wasn't finding out anything that people don't already know . for a newspaper slash gossip mag , y'all don't have many skeletons in the closet . " he shrugs . " think of it not as hacking , but more like a public service and audit of your security , job and background . " he clicks his fingers together , nodding as he picks up steam . " i'm protecting you , kennedy . "

the silence between is heavy and the house seems to settle within it, wind whistling through the room as if to cut the tension. a shiver runs through them once more, the chill more physical than mental this time. kennedy is hyper-aware of their surroundings. of the dust particles floating in the air, the stray moonlight peeking into the room from poorly boarded-up windows, and kieran talbot. standing as the centerpiece.  illuminated by a warm light, lips parted slightly, a small twitch in his brow, dark eyes trained on them with a reflected caution. he almost looks like a painting. like something they would see in some museum, drawn by an unknown tragic artist, toeing the line between beautiful and unsettling. so kennedy does flinch when kieran moves closer, all instinct, eyes narrowing into daggers— a silent warning.

the mention of their book is unexpected and the wary glare softens into something kennedy can’t quite place, somewhere between amusement and surprise. they were sure that their parents did their best to spread the word about kennedy's achievement around town but they didn’t actually expect anyone care enough to pick up their book. they haven't spoken to anyone about it, not even santiago. so under kieran's mention of it, they suddenly find themselves thinking back on their time in italy.

a small church yet beautifully ornate with stained glass windows depicting idolized saints and dutiful angels. their eyes meeting his— the priest in their story. father caruso. the last murderer they were in a room with as far as they know .  the man who had the whole town wrapped around his finger. kennedy remembers looking around the cathedral, catching glimpses of the people in the pews looking up at him with teary reverence, clinging to his every word.

kieran’s voice pulls them back to the present, directing their attention to the battered bed nearby. sybil thorne’s bed. kennedy’s flashlight follows instinctively, skimming over the surface before snapping back to kieran, unwilling to lose sight of him. they feel disoriented, trapped between two worlds—the cathedral in their memory and the decaying thorne house.

kieran’s words settle in the room like the dust swirling in the faint light. more lamb than butcher. the phrase plays over in their mind, the weight of it heavier than they expect. "yeah?" they finally speak up, canting their head slightly, a slow-growing smile making its way to their features. "so what's a sweet little lamb like you doing out here then? hoping to find a purpose to bleed yourself into?" kennedy wasn’t fully convinced, they would be foolish to be, but they’ve never been the type to look to god or the universe for guidance. their gut was their bible and right now, it’s telling them that the kid who spent years buried in old articles and cold cases might be better used as an asset than dismissed as a suspect. they lower their flashlight some, and perhaps their guard as well. for now at least. "'cus i might just be on the same boat as you. " there's another pause then, only this time it doesn't feel so daunting. "do you think this place is actually haunted?" a sudden ask. they just can't help but shake the feeling that they were being watched. was it paranoia? god?

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ the questions hung heavy in the air for a few moments, met with kieran's silence as the thorne house creaked and groaned with every cold autumn breeze, almost as if the very walls were an audience reacting to this confrontation. he held his stance even against the blinding light of kennedy's flashlight, expression caught somewhere between surprise and something more akin to indignance against the returned accusation. it should be expected ﹕ he probably checked off multiple boxes in some litmus test for serial killers, but allegations felt like smoke sometimes ⸻ it could be suffocating if left unchallenged. he let the silence stretch out between them just for a few more beats, the weight of it pressing down on him like the dust that covered this old rotten place, before finally taking a small step forward. just to see if it would rattle them, just to see if they would flinch, just to see how much kennedy actually believed him to be red creek's newest murderer. then, a smile as he shook his head. “ i read your book, y'know ? great work you did there. but people look at it like it was an exposé on that priest, the oh so terrible things he did to maintain people's faith ... but the way i see it, it's more a revelation of the lies people tell themselves. ” kieran shrugged nonchalantly, casting his light on the bedside table, where sibyl thorne's weathered bible remained after all these years. and he wondered if she believed god would save her son from the misplaced wrath of this town. “ they need something to believe in, something bigger than their own insignificance. faith healing, prayers to some god, a big dose of hope and dopamine from the bible— because to live in a world without that, without the illusion of purpose, of salvation, would be too much. it's easier to believe in that whole weird apocalyptic scifi literature than accept we're just specks of dust drifting in a universe that doesn't really give a damn. ” and finally another step forward, hands raised in feigned surrender. he didn't always say much, sometimes not even enough, but kieran felt an affinity for kennedy ﹕ both of them only trying to make sense of what was happening in their town. “ guess what i'm tryin' to say is, i may not look like it, but i give too much of a damn to be an indifferent killer like this goddamn universe. i'm really just like all those people, ken. more a lamb than a butcher. ” a mess of belief, fighting too hard for meaning to ever be an empty murderer.

kennedy does one better than closing the door. they lock it. in one sharp motion, unwilling to let anyone get wrapped up in the shit storm that is about to ensue... they turn back to face him, expression a melting pot of emotions— anger, disdain, disgust, and just when it's about to flicker into something more vulnerable... he opens his goddamn mouth. "don't—" they raise a cautionary finger. the smug calmness in his response only serves to stoke the fire burning inside them, their pulse pounding in their throat. "don't act like you have the situation under control.   dimwit officers? don't trust the sheriff?" it wasn't that kennedy didn't share the sentiment. they're certain they've made a passing comment about the incompetence of most police departments to ricardo. but in the world of journalism, there were rules to play and pissing off the most reliable source of information had rookie mistake written all over it. "you fucked us. you fucked me." and he doesn't pay her enough for that. "where did you even get this information? why didn't you share this with me? or effie?"

ricardo knew this was going to happen . he's never been an idiot , but he does move fast enough that sometimes it makes people consider he COULD be an idiot . cunning always is worn in a certain way when it comes to him . WHEN HE GOT THE PHOTOS - he did think of kennedy . he thought of them straight away . he knew exactly how they would have looked at the photos in reverence and awe . kennedy would have known exactly the way to deal with it . the best way to write it . the PUNCHIEST statements to click ' enter ' on . ricardo hates to admit that he needs anyone , let alone kennedy . but if she had been in the office with him that morning , things might have turned out differently . ALAS SHE WASN'T . he was as alone as he was born , and like wolves do - he struck as quick as he could . RICARDO CLOSES HIS EYES AS SOON AS HE HEARS KENNEDY ENTER . the rage within her in imminent , it vibrates through the walls of the register . " close the door behind you . " he greets back , pleasantly . he doesn't need to look down at the newspaper to see his own typed words and the photos BLINKING BACK AT HIM . he's spent enough time with them . " you're mad . " he notes .

location : the register

time : early afternoon

for : ricardo( @inadeqcies)

in response to this

it was kennedy’s day off. they had plans to unwind. do some grocery shopping. take themselves out on a date to the movies like they had been meaning to. maybe even try not to think about the murder that had been weighing on their mind since halloween. the last thing on their todo list? a literal manhunt... yet there they were, storming into register, stomping past familiar cubicles and any coworkers that might still be lingering in the area. if anyone had said anything to her, kennedy couldn’t hear them over the blood roaring in her ears. “what—” the door slams behind them as they barge into his office. they knew ricardo was in there—could practically smell his cologne from the moment they walked into the building. intrusive. out of place. like the rest of his presence in redcreek. . “—in the ever-loving fuck—” a copy of the newspaper is slammed on top his desk, the sides wrinkled from where they had dug their nails into it, red ink scattered angrily across the print. almost like a bloodstain. “—were you thinking? quickly.”

location : redstone bar

time : evening

for : taylan ( @ofvolatile )

there were two things the town seemed to be in silent agreement on when it came to the yalçınkayas. one, their kid was bad news. two, they weren’t talking about the daughter or their 20(?) cousins. wherever taylan went, trouble seemed to follow and it didn't take kennedy much convincing from their parents to keep their distance from him. and yet, it always felt like like taylan was always lingering somewhere in the periphery of her upbringing—as selin’s problematic brother, santiago’s troublemaking friend, and a thorn on redcreek's side. but with the recent murder of one alaina price, taylan's return to town was beginning to feel less of a coincidence and more like an omen. was alaina's downfall the wrath of a boy who never quite grew out of his rage?

he was a recognizable figure, even from behind. a head of brown messy waves sitting on top of broad shoulders and an aura that just screamed for someone, anyone, to just give him a reason. against carefully developed instincts, she approaches. the stool beside him creeks against hardwood as she settles herself onto it, announcing her arrival to both taylan and the bartender. “tequila soda, please.” her gaze darts over to taylan, as if to size him up, before turning back to the bartender and tipping her head towards him. “—and whatever he‘ll have.”

location : deer lake

time : early afternoon

for : selin ( @inlustre)

"don't make fun of me." he starts, tone light despite his aversion to meet her gaze as he spreads the blanket out for them to sit. "i did get one of the precut fruit trays from your store but it's because i ran out of time. i uh, tried my hand at baking croissants for the first time and..." the laugh that escapes him is nothing short of sheepish as he sets the basket down between them. "next time, i'm just grabbing us something from the bakery." is it bold of him to already be hoping for a next time? perhaps. he just feels fortunate to have managed to steal this moment of selin's time.

if people watching were a sport, vikram would be a medalist. years of observing people—how they moved, what they said, how they reacted to one another. and selin, well, she was like the sun. bright and warm with a natural orbit of people surrounding her everywhere she went. then there was vikram, who never quite knew how to navigate the world of casual socializing. had to admit he was a little in awe of her. at how simple she made it look. “i’m glad you could make it out today,” vikram says, finally settling himself beside her. “it’s nice, being outside of work for once. i don’t get to do this much, but—well, you probably know how it is. i'm sure the store keeps you busy." lord knows he’s done his fair share of taking up selin's time when he's there.

vikram’s mind hasn't stopped racing since the news of alaina price's body. there was too much to do. preparation to make, unwanted visitors to turn away, worried townspeople to ease. it wasn't just a death. it was a murder. a horrendously obvious act of violence that vikram somehow had cover up for the wake. but how do you make tragedy look presentable? a familiar voice echos down the hallway, pulling vikram from his pacing around the office to look up and meet pleading eyes. “oh! of course.” he’s quick to take the cup of coffee from greers hand, frantically looking around for a safe place to place it as if he didn't own the place and settling for an empty coffin left on its side that he has yet to bring to the main room storage room. it was next on his to-dos he swears! “wait— let me help.” he reaches for the smaller hand, fingers carefully prying open the clamped grip that threatens to tear dark locks out of greer's head. new target acquired, vikram can feel blair’s sticky fingers grab hold of his index and middle, keeping him locked by greer’s side. a chuckle escapes him then, as he leans slightly towards blair. “hi.” a whispered greeting, paired with a nervous smile as he playfully waves their tiny first. he turns to greer next, meeting the younger man's warm brown with tired, sleep-deprived black. “good morning, greer. it's really good to see you.” and he means it. "would you like some breakfast? i was about to whip myself up something." vikram doesn't have the stomach to eat yet but if greer and blair joined him then he would be more inclined to try.

𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱      :   greer    &    vikram    (  @brntout ) !

𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿:   6:43am.

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:  funeral home.

* ❪ ⛓️ ❫ ﹕ 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀   𝗻𝗼   𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴   𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸   𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁   𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀   which   of   the   rare   locations   the   world   has   to   offer   is   classified   as   inappropriate   for   children,   especially   those   in   redcreek   that   stay   stagnant.   save   for   the   trickle   of   new   industries   that   try   to   make   a   mark   in   the   rural   town.   unfortunately   for   the   one   of   them   today's   plus   one   isn't   nour,   despite   her   still   persistent   &   blunt   nature.  this morning's    guest   is   his   ten   month   old   niece.   chubby   hands   are   reaching   out   toward   greer's   face   as   they   walk   through   heavy   doors,   splintered   wood   creaking   underneath   them   as   he   tries   to   avoid   getting   his   eyes   poked   out.    ❛  i   know   baby. ❜     blair's   got   one   of   his   curls   now as she bounces in her chest carrier,   tugging   with   the   strength   that   most   toddlers   acquire:  the   brute   force   of   a   hundred  fucking  lions.   greer's   stifling   the   cuss   word   that   threatens   to   cross   his   tongue   by   simply   biting   it   &   letting   out   a   wince.    ❛  vik,   you   mind   takin'    this  while i get mauled for a sec ?  ❜    he   calls   out,   hoping   the   man   will   save   the   boiling   coffee   that   threatens   to   overspill   with   blair's   movements   &   singe   his   hand   to   bone.  an   added   bonus  ?   it   serves   as   this   morning's   gift   for  the   absolute   hell   he's   undoubtedly already   enduring   with   the   news.   greer   can   only   guess   the   diversity   of   company   that'll   be   searching   the   home   &   cemetery   an   equal   opportunity   to   sniff   out   the   investigation;   journalists,   wannabe   crime   sleuths,   police,   even   spunky   tourists   who   take   murder   scenes   as   fun   museum   tours.