#freakedtastic

[kissmedcadlyarc]

no one gets us and our lava lamp flavor profiles.

"yeah, 'cause they're a buncha cowards who won't admit that lava lamps look like... weirdly fuckin' drinkable—" and frankly, if thinking that is wrong, she doesn't wanna be right.

it isn't her fault lava lamps look like that, man; she won't be faulted for it.

"—they're also way too cowardly to admit that grape flavored things taste like purple."

@freakedtastic

[mikewheelertmmoved]

@freakedtastic​ rolled the dice ;; [text] are you okay? ›» ( text prompts.)

[📱 — jonathan ] i’m fine, really [📱 — jonathan ] you don’t have worry

[📱 — jonathan ] okay, that was a lie [📱 — jonathan ] i’m so distressed about EVERYTHING

[chivalrites]

Should I get down on one knee...?

❝ No, no. You don’t have to do all that. ❞ Jeff is grinning, cheesy, wide, completely unrestrained. He holds onto Jon, gently, just in case he does try to get down on one knee. He remembers the silly kid that would try to pull a stunt like that to get him to laugh, sees sparks and embers inside him, a flickering behind the sad, tired mask Jon so often dons. Maybe one day it will be their time, their chances to be something closer to unburdened. Together. Not out of sync, with no looming sorrowful horizon to detract from that joy.

❝ I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Jon Byers. You know that, don’t you? Without a ring or anything. ❞ Maybe in a softer, kinder world they’re already married. What was it Chuck Berry sang? It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished them well. They could do things their parents could never do in their marriages, be happy, love each other. Go on three day cruises. Make honey do lists that actually get done. Be a team. Have the wisdom to know what mistakes not to make, the power to do better than what they’d known. The longer Jeff thinks about it, the better it sounds. Then it makes him sad to think about, he doesn’t want to be sad so he swallows the thought.

Instead, he kisses Jon. Light, good-natured, chaste but not without feeling.

[storiesofthenight]

@freakedtastic​ asked: ❛  do you want to talk about it ?  ❜ (for will) [X]

Will was staring at an empty page, his pencil in hand. How long he’d been sitting there, just staring down at it was he tried to figure out what he could draw? He had no idea. He didn’t know how he could get his feelings onto the paper without it being too obvious because ... why would anyone want it to be so obvious? It wasn’t until he heard his brother’s voice that he was drawn from his thoughts and looked up. 

He could see the worry on Jon’s face, and he knew why. His brother had learned to read the signs that Will wasn’t doing good, of course he had, he’d been there all his life. With a soft sigh, he shrugged a little. “I don’t know, ... there’s ... not much to say I guess ...” How was he supposed to say out loud that he was in love with his best friend, who only had eyes for El? El, who was like a sister to him, and who loved his best friend back ... 

Every time he thought of that, his heart broke a little more, knowing that he was in love with someone he could never have and yet couldn’t get out of his head. Casting his eyes down at the page, he bit his lip, considering his words. “H- ... How do you fall out of love with someone? I mean ... if it’s someone you know you can’t have, ever ... then how do you ... how do you get them out of your head?” His voice was soft, so soft he wasn’t even sure his brother would pick up on it. Oh he felt so small on moments like these ... 

[storiesofthenight]

 @freakedtastic​ asked: “Eddie, you look like a ghost. Like you just came back from the dead.” [X]

Eddie let out a shaky breath as he sat on the Byers’ house porch, his hands were shaking terribly as he brought his hands up. His fingers slipping through his hair as he tried to pull himself together so he could at least answer Jonathan. Minutes passed as he sat there, his head hidden between his arms as if he was protecting his face from whatever might come at him. When finally his heart beat slowed and his breathing calmed, he let out a deep sigh and sat up right again, rubbing a ringed hand over his face as he tried to think of what to say even. 

“I ... I might as well ... t-that ...” He faltered, swallowing his words as he tried to make a decent sentence. Man, he was so not alright, still unable to comprehend what he’d just seen. He felt like he was losing his mind, more than usual. Sure, he had a tough act, he knew that ... he looked rough with the black clothes and the chains, living for metal music. But, what had just happened was way beyond his abilities. “I’m losing my mind ...” He breathed, unsure of why he’d exactly gone to Jonathan for this, as if Jonathan could help him? 

“Fuck ...” With some effort, Eddie finally took a deep breath and looked up, his eyes meeting Jonathan’s for the first time since he’d shown up at his house. “I ... C-Chrissy ... s-she wanted to ... to buy drugs ... and s-” Faltering once again as the reality sank in, Eddie felt tears gathering in his eyes. “S-she’s dead ... “

[thesheepcote]

I know I'm not exactly the most fun guy but... you're welcome to stay.

contrary  to  what  father  dearest  believes  --  they  are  actually  rather  appreciative.  in  moments  like  these,  far  away  from  home  more  than  ever  before,  there’s  appreciation  that  glosses  them  head  to  toe.  being  away  from  home,  exploring  outside  of  salt  lake  city.  while  warned  of  where  they  were  to  head  --  &  having  extra  sets  of  hands  to  help  back  in  hawkins,  where  these  guys  call  home  --  there’s  always  the  thrill  of  being  away  from  home.  a  break,  although  they  would  feel  selfish  to  call  it  that,  looking  upon  the  members  within  the  pizza  van. 

eden  wouldn’t  expect  what  was  to  come  --  learning  about  eleven  on  the  journey,  learning  about  what  the  fresh  hell  (  SORRY,  LORD  !  IT’S  THE  ONLY  WAY  TO  DESCRIBE  IT  )  is  going  on,  &  what  desolation  may  come  ahead.  it’s  a  shock  to  them  in  more  ways  than  one.  &  it  doesn’t  quite  settle  until  eyes  land  on  traffic  upon  traffic,  fires  aflame,  &  more  upon  entering  hawkins.  nothing  would  be  able  to  prepare  them  for  a  town  cursed  with  rot  of  what  lies  underneath  (  so  they  understood  ). 

being  able  to  stretch  after  the  sights  of  hawkins  --  it  feels  better,  but  everything  feels  eerie.  there’s  a  sense  of  wrong  in  all  of  this,  in  everything  that  they  have  seen  --  &  once  more,  they  look  at  those  cherishing  in  moments  reunited.  they  were  alone,  really,  in  a  foreign  place,  with  hands  that  are  willing  to  help  &  anger  that  fuels  ready  for  battle.  WHATEVER  WAS  TO  COME,  THEY  AREN’T  SURE  IF  THEY  WERE  READY  FOR,  BUT  THEY  HAD  TO  BE  NOW,  DIDN’T  THEY? 

they  breathe  in,  stepping  aside,  taking  pack  of  cigarettes  out  from  black  jean  pockets,  giving  a  side  -  eye  to  the  gang  &  finding  a  place  to  hide  out,  somewhere  where  they  can  smoke  &  let  it  fully  settle  what  it  was  they  were  in  for.  lighting  cigarette  (  again,  sorry,  lord.  i’m  sure  you  would  do  the  same  if  you  were  in  my  shoes  )  &  taking  slow,  shaky  puffs  from  it  in  hopes  it  soothes  nerves  &  anxieties.  it  doesn’t.  they  grow  disassociative,  for  a  moment. 

the  approach  startles  them,  making  them  nearly  jump  out  of  their  skin,  head  tilting  downward.  their  eyes  glance  to  cigarette,  to  the  pristine  grass  that  they’re  sure  would  ruin  soon  due  to  dust  &  fire  soot.  they  decide  to  offer  cigarette  --  not  that  it  matters  much,  but  if  there’s  something  that  they  can  do  to  help  right  now,  it  works.  the  words  flow  too  easy  from  jonathan,  if  eden  has  to  be  honest.  brows  that  furrow  under  black  dyed  bangs,  lips  pursing  into  a  thin,  confusion  that  etches  itself  in  every  visible part  of  eden.  they  opt  to  take  another  quick  puff  of  cigarette,  smoke  blowing  from  nose  on  exhale,  before  offering  once  again.  they  try  to  settle  stiff  shoulders.  jonathan  has  been  nothing  but  kind  this  whole  time.  don’t  fuck  it  up. 

❛  thank  you,  ❜  appreciative  as  always,  that’s  eden.  the  corner  of  their  mouth  rises  into  some  sort  of  an  attempt  of  a  smile.  hard  to  smile  when  the  world  around  you  looks  &  feels  like  it’s  burning,  literally  &  figuratively. 

❛  might  have  to  take  you  up  on  that  offer.  for  now,  anyways,  ❜  a  pause,  they  glance  to  where  the  crowd  continues,  hearing  familiar  voices  &  new.  they  have  a  habit  of  listening  in,  listening  to  familiarity  --  hearing  voices  from  argyle,  will,  mike,  eleven,  &  even  jonathan  ...  that  was  comforting  alone,  voices  of  those  they  could  make  out  in  a  crowd.   ❛  you’re  not  a  ‘not  fun’  guy,  jonathan,  ❜   a  playful  roll  of  their  eyes  as  they  try  to  make  light,  elbow  lightly  nudging  @freakedtastic​  at  their  side.   ❛  don’t  say  that  about  yourself.  give  yourself  more  credit.  ❜  

[gareththegreata]

If you do that nose scrunch thing one more time I will not be held responsible for my actions!

gareth will stare at the other, silent as his eyes start to narrow. obviously, he'll wrinkle his nose doing exactly what jonathan told him not to. little shit.

[chivalrites]

maybe i should have stayed home.

party sentence starters.

❝ I think we both should have stayed home. ❞ Together. Maybe. Jon reading Bukowski and Jeff reading Weird Tales, new wave on the record player, perhaps a joint passed between the two of them in comfortable silence. Jeff liked that. He could easily be silent around Jon without the silence needing to be filled, with it feeling like a warm blanket instead of a cold failure to maintain some facade they both held on to.

Jeff’s facade is holding on well tonight, at this party. It’s always a gamble. He had managed to drink just enough to form a comfortable cushion between him and the noise and the people. It’s not like Corroded Coffin gets invited to a lot of parties, usually Eddie crashes them. Sniffs them out like a truffle pig and takes everyone else in with him. Gareth loves parties, loves to drink, loves to yell. Jeff has to medicate himself into enjoying something everyone else seemed to. Except for Jon, who didn’t seem like a happy camper.

❝ If it’s any, uh, consultation, I’m glad you’re here. ❞ He exhales smoke from his nose and offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Doesn’t have it in him to make eye contact. He’s getting tired too. That barrier between existing within this environment and needing to escape is starting to wear thin. It’s only 10:45.

❝ I think we could sneak out and get some food without anyone noticing. ❞ Said as if this is prison and the other partygoers are wardens.