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Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap
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gracie abrams
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@playinghero
⌗PLAYINGHERO ┄┄ an independent, literate, selective portrayal of LELAND MCKINNEY ; the life saver 𒀭 Eighteen + , canon - divergent from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre game , heavily hc influenced. ᝰ Oc’s & duplicates welcome. Au's also welcome.
Warning : mature themes, elements of horror, gore, cannibalism & violence. Est. Dec. 24 — status : active. a muse of ⌗sophs ( she / her , 25 )
MISC. ( TWITTER ) ( CAARD )
[ continuing from here ] | @playinghero
chocolatey eyes flicked to meet hooded brown orbs, the two of them so close he could smell the alcohol on their breath, the cologne lingering off their clothes... it was when the other spoke that he snapped out of his thoughts— didn't take long 'fore giving them the answer they waited for,
“ make it two, ” he'd push the red, empty cup in their palm and take a step forward, shoulder bumped into shoulder, he'd brush past the stranger but lean close,
“ you know where to find me. ” a lopsided smile and a pat on the shoulder, harrington would walk back towards the crowd and merge with it— he wanted to be found, but he'd still make the man look for him.
gaze followed him all until he merged with the crowd. a scoff escaped alcohol stained lips ; he’s playful. who does this guy think he is .ᐣ
time to find out.
lee meandered to the drink station. a large bowl of who knows what calling his name. he grabbed the ladle, filling his cup to the brim and the other a ( * fair ) amount. he sipped on his drink; a dangerous game to play in such a crowded space. yet, he managed to make it back to where he last left the dude.
what the —
he scanned faces and bodies, looking for a shirt with a splotch and undeniably good hair bouncing with each sway.
he saw just what he imagined dancing underneath tinges of reds, blues, yellows — the whole rainbow.
oh , good.
“ you .ᐟ ” he called out, making his way round the dancing boy. he offered him his drink. “ your drink — nice moves. ”
"It's just a little conca- conc- conc- head blow."
“ jesus , they really landed a good one on you — ”
leland’s hand instinctively reached for the wound on the others temple ; a myriad of purple and red hues painting his skin. yowch.
he pulled his hand away, panicked expression plastered on his face; eyes wide, mouth slightly gaped. he waved his hand slowly in front of harrington’s eyes.
“ you seein’ double .ᐣ ”
It's Worse than we Thought
"It hurts -"
"I can't move -"
"Everything's spinning..."
"I ca- can't - breathe -"
"Just leave me here - go -"
"Oh, I'm... bleeding."
"That's... that's n ot meant to bend like that..."
"I can't feel my leg..."
"Ow, ow, fuck, ow -"
"It's fine... I can't feel any pain... or anything, actually..."
"Is it supposed to be numb?"
"It's just a headache..."
"A small blow to the head... oh, no. No, I'm bleeding."
"I'm so... tired..."
"Just a little sleep?"
"I'm... I'm sorry... I can't hang on any longer..."
"My nose is bleeding? And my... ears..?"
"It's just a little conca- conc- conc- head blow."
"Don't worry about me..."
"I'm sorry."
"Everything hurts..."
"I'm just laying here, okay..?"
"Bleeding... blood? Bloody..."
"Hey, uh... can you help me get this knife out?"
"My head is spinning..."
"Why is my nose bleeding?"
"It might be broken..."
"Augh."
"I feel like hell."
"Why did you do that? Why are there three of you? When did you... oh..."
english major leland mckinney ACTUALLY coming over to study and help steve with his final exam while the guy keeps calling himself stupid cause he already failed twice
from how flustered he looked, you would think leland was the one who had to get in a last minute study sesh. embarrassing enough, he always gets in his head when he knows he’s gonna meet with the harrington boy. this time was no different.
a myriad of objects were crammed in his arms as he walked up to the front door ; note-filled composition books, old novels annotated to a tee, textbooks with bookmarks sticking out of the pages and a pencil bag. he was flustered, but most certainly determined to help.
with his free hand, he knocked against the sturdy wood couple of times.
desperation, perhaps that was what pushed the young harrington to actually bring himself to ask for help— to swallow his pride and admit to something he lacked. there was something more of course, a tight feeling in his throat at the mere thought of inviting a close friend back to his home.
a knock on his door, chocolate browns flicked up from the magazine he was skimming through, that feeling in his throat returning tenfold upon assuming who. a quick glance at his surroundings, made sure there were no used clothes nor empty boxes somewhere, a look in the mirror before he headed to the front door.
long fingers swept through luscious locks of hair, soft words of encouragement beneath his own breath— 'ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ' before turning the key and inching the door open.
“ hey, ” he would greet, simple, a smile tugging at his lips which steve easily allows while he looks the other over— after spending a second too long standing at the door he'd step to the side to let them inside, gesturing for them to come in, excitement buzzing beneath his skin. was he nervous about his studies, or... something else?
“ wasn't sure if you'd actually show— y'know, ” a faint chuckle, sheepish glance to the side, soft fingers scratched at the back of his scalp as he mumbled, “ I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. ” who the hell would want to study a few days before the end of semester? willingly, too— and yet here he was, standing with all the supplies at his door... it sure made him feel warm.
“ wait , really .ᐣ ” brows pinched together, disbelief smeared across his visage.
really .ᐣ
he didn’t want to believe that for a second. it’s a bit mean spirited, but leland’s seen his fair share of nasty people. sure, it was cute how steve had asked for help in the first place, but it was also incredibly disquieting. lee could get lost in the pages of hemingway, steinbeck, fitzgerald — scott & zelda— herbert, bradbury, the list goes on and on. it was a hobby, a possible career avenue, but was he actually good enough to teach someone .ᐣ could he help someone .ᐣ let alone 𝓈teve 𝒽arrington .ᐣ the someone makes him overthink every. little. thing.
this exact moment left leland in a state of confusion ; harrington, king steve, pretty boy, cool guy on campus, the guy who could charm the skin off a snake , was shy .ᐣ smothering a grin, leland walked through the doorway.
“ i wouldn’t do that to ya. i really don’t mind … besides, i wanna be here. ”
instant heat flushed his cheeks. was that weird .ᐣ that was probably weird to say — a cough jetted from his lips.
“ —- anyways , nice place. ”
frat party shenanigans— everyone is drunk and the room is crowded, these two ending up next to each other which leads to them ... dancing ... could be goofy, could be charged
frat party shenanigans —- ( if you’re not a brother , you need to get the fuck outta here !!! )
bodies on bodies, already lost count of how many drinks he’s had, the mckinney boy squeezes through.
“ fuck … ” he muttered, trying to make his way to the drink station. his red solo cup still pretty full. a force ( or two ) thrusts him in another direction — into the back of a stranger — completely throwing him off his senses .
“ FUCK — ”
he’s pretty sure he spilled a bit of his drink on whoever he nearly toppled over. blink, blink.
“ jesus, man, my bad — ”
just when he was about to think the party was getting dull he'd feel someone's weight clash into him, liquid seeping into the fabric of his clothes.
he'd turn around with his brows furrowed, not quite being able to recognize who bumped into him out of the hundreds that attended this campus— nonetheless, they looked familiar. steve's sure he's seen them around a couple times, thought about going up to them but never had a reason until now.
“ nothin' to worry about, ” pinching his shirt, steve would sway to the music (without intending to), a lopsided smile visible on his lips as he mumbles “ this was meant to be ruined. ”
even if he could think of many more creative ways to trash this shirt, getting a drink spilled on him was among the top 5 reasons why steve didn't bother to dress fancy to these kinds of parties— not after the first couple times, that is.
“ gonna get yourself another? ”
“ oh , yeah — was on my way.”
wow, this dude’s incredibly chill about getting rammed into by a stranger. initially, leland was worried he would be dodging drunken swings right now. he didn’t need to be showing up to classes with a bruise or two on his face. cue a blank stare at the other, puzzled, but intrigued, to say the least.
leland leaned inward, small space between him and the stranger even smaller now. he hated feeling like he was yelling, but the blaring music ( and alcohol raging through his system ) rendered his hearing unreliable — and his speech a bit slurred.
“ want me to grab you one too .ᐣ ‘s the least i can do after … doing that. ” he huffed out a laugh. his eyes flicked to the yellow-ish splotch on his shirt. even through the blitz, a bit of guilt settled in.
man, it was a nice color too.
frat party shenanigans— everyone is drunk and the room is crowded, these two ending up next to each other which leads to them ... dancing ... could be goofy, could be charged
frat party shenanigans —- ( if you’re not a brother , you need to get the fuck outta here !!! )
bodies on bodies, already lost count of how many drinks he’s had, the mckinney boy squeezes through.
“ fuck … ” he muttered, trying to make his way to the drink station. his red solo cup still pretty full. a force ( or two ) thrusts him in another direction — into the back of a stranger — completely throwing him off his senses .
“ FUCK — ”
he’s pretty sure he spilled a bit of his drink on whoever he nearly toppled over. blink, blink.
“ jesus, man, my bad — ”
english major leland mckinney ACTUALLY coming over to study and help steve with his final exam while the guy keeps calling himself stupid cause he already failed twice
from how flustered he looked, you would think leland was the one who had to get in a last minute study sesh. embarrassing enough, he always gets in his head when he knows he’s gonna meet with the harrington boy. this time was no different.
a myriad of objects were crammed in his arms as he walked up to the front door ; note-filled composition books, old novels annotated to a tee, textbooks with bookmarks sticking out of the pages and a pencil bag. he was flustered, but most certainly determined to help.
with his free hand, he knocked against the sturdy wood couple of times.
