#possessed!billy

[phishyie]

TW: slight non-consensual almost-kiss and one slap! Fear & possessed!Billy involved. COMIC

Highly inspired by Hozier’s “It Will Come Back”

[ihni]

Dark street, darker times

(Day 2 of Harringrove AUgust: Darkside AU/possession)

~~~

It is late at night at Old Cherry Road. The street is dark. People are asleep, and the lights are out in all the houses – except for at number 5280, where there is a light shining through the curtains in what must be the living room. The porch lights are on as well.

The young man parks his car – his banged up, dented car with a newly broken windshield – in the driveway, next to a well-kept truck, and gets out. His movements are choppy and stiff, as if he is not used to the body he is in. There is no expression on his face whatsoever. No life behind blue eyes.

He shuts car door with so much force that the window on the driver’s side cracks. The sound is loud in the night. He does not seem to notice. Instead he walks (stumbles, staggers) up to the house. The door opens before he can reach for it.

There is a man there. The young man’s father. He is red in the face with anger and points at the car – the banged up, dented car with the newly broken windshield – and hisses (yells) at the young man. He grabs his son by the arm and drags him into the house. The son lets it happen, his face a blank mask.

The door closes. The porch light switches off. The street is dark.

~

Inside, the man roughly pushes his son up against the door. The young man does not flinch, even if the door handle must dig painfully into his back. When the father grabs his chin in one meaty hand and shoves his head back against the door, the son just breathes in sharply through his nose. But he says nothing, and he does not break eye contact. Does not wince, even though the older man’s fingers are digging into his skin.

The father’s voice is grave. Serious. Vibrating with anger. But he keeps his volume low, as if reluctant to raise his voice. There are other occupants in this house. And neighbors close by. All of them asleep.

The angry words he sprouts are not for any of them. They are for the young man, who just stands there and lets them wash over him with his arms at his sides. It is not what the father wants. He leans in closer. Shoves at the young man again. Spits ugly, foul words in his face to get a reaction.

But the young man does not react to the words, or to the spittle that hits his cheek. He looks his father in the eye, and continues to say nothing.

His head snaps to the side with the force of the slap, his hair whipping across his face with the motion. The older man takes a step back, poised to strike again. He is breathing heavily, face distorted in a snarl, a challenge in his eyes.

 What do you have to say for yourself, son?

But, oh. He doesn’t know. The young man is not the father’s son. Not anymore.

Slowly, the young man straightens up from his leaned-over position. Slowly, he turns his head to meet the older man’s gaze.

Slowly, a grin stretches across his face.

It looks wrong. Like it does not belong there. Like whatever is wearing his body like an ill-fitting suit has never smiled before, and is trying it out. Trying and failing. The lips are pulled back and the teeth are showing, but it does not reach his eyes.

It is not a happy smile. It is a threat. A promise of pain to come.

The father takes a step back. Instinct. A prey’s reaction to a predator. The anger flickers into confusion for a second. Perhaps in an effort to cover it up, he frowns. Reaches out a hand, points a finger at the young man, opens his mouth to spew more vitriol –

But before he can, the young man’s hand shoots out. He grabs the father’s wrist, and bends it backwards until something snaps under the skin. The sound is loud in the hall. The man draws a breath to scream, but he never gets the chance to. The son’s other hand flies to his throat, and the man’s scream dies in a gurgle when strong fingers – too strong fingers – stop any air from escaping.

The threat-smile is still on the young man’s face, unmoving, when he forces the older man to his knees and knocks him out with a hit to the temple. The man crumbles to the floor with a muted thump, his wrist bent at an angle it should not be able to bend at. He does not move, other than very shallow breathing.

The young man’s face reverts back to blank as he straightens up and looks down the corridor leading to the rest of the house. For half a minute, then a minute, he just stands there. Listening, perhaps, to see if anyone heard them. If anyone is coming.

No one is coming. The others in the house, still asleep.

The young man walks over the crumpled form at his feet and reaches into the living room to turn the lights off, bathing the room in darkness, like the rest of the house. Then he silently returns to the hall. He bends down and picks the father up, effortlessly, as if the man’s weight means nothing to him. He throws him over his shoulder. Reaches for the door handle.

~

Outside, the street is dark. The porch light stays off. If any neighbors were to look out through their windows, they would not be able to see a thing. Movement, perhaps, at the most.

The young man walks – does not stagger now, or stumble – back to his banged up, dented car with the broken windshield, and moves to the back of it. Opens the trunk, and deposits the older man’s unconscious body into it. Closes it more carefully than he closed the car door, only minutes before.

Perhaps he has learned the strength of the body he’s in. Or perhaps he just does not want to make another loud noise to break the stillness of the night.

 Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors, huh, dad?

The unconscious man in the trunk is not his father, though. Not anymore. And soon, he will be something else entirely.

The young man gets in the car – his movements more fluid, as if he’s getting used to his body – and he closes the car door gently. Turns the key to start the engine, and backs out onto the darkened street without turning the headlights on.

Then he drives back the way he came from.

Behind him, Old Cherry Road is dark.

(Fic on AO3)

[kelpie-earnest]

h̞͕̦̝͒̾̆e͙̰̙̬ͪ̈l̝̠̜̫̮ͥͦ̊̑́͆̽p̷͎͖̜̗ͮ ̈͌͗͌͏̻͎͕͍͖̥̺h͇̪̘̻̣̘̳͗͂ͯ͋̑̂ḯ̵̺͙̟̅̿͛̔m̸̞

[moonstruckbucky]

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Summary: Something dark has found its way to Hawkins.

Pairing: Demon!Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, 18+, dubcon, a teensy bit of blood play, dark!Billy. Please, for the love of god, don’t read this if you’re under 18.

Notes: Well, obviously the newest trailer/ALL OF SEASON 3 has rekindled my thirst for Billy and so of course, I had to get back to writing him. This is my first time writing anything like this. I want to branch out, go dark, all that fun shit. This is going to be a dark!Billy fic, as in, it probably won’t be a fun time for everyone, so read at your own risk. This is 2k words of pure filth. Enjoy, kiddos! x

You feel it as vividly as the scalding water on your skin. A change in the air of Hawkins. Something heavy has settled in the formerly quiet town, something kind of like the mess Hawkins Lab created last year. And yet, it’s different. More chilling, more foreboding. Your growing paranoia glances to the ugly floral curtains in the bathroom, rustled just barely by the open window. The sound of the shower is tuned out as you watch the darkness creep up, laying a dark blanket over the town.

You finish your routine as quickly as you dare without slipping. A towel around your body, hair dripping on the carpet behind you as you scurry to your bedroom. You bypass your parents room and peek your head in; they’re sitting up in bed together, the glow of the television reflected across their faces. They seem unperturbed by the sudden shift. You exhale shakily, and it draws your mother’s gaze.

Brows furrowed, “Everything all right, sweetie?”

“Mm-mhm,” you mutter, distracted for the moment by a faint, indescribable sound. “Just wanted to-to say goodnight.”

Your mother smiles softly. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

You miss the look of concern on her face as you turn away, shut yourself up in your room. The towel drops to the floor and is replaced by a t-shirt, one of Billy’s, and a pair of cotton shorts. Eyes to the window. It’s too warm to close it but, you’re nervous by this feeling of foreboding in your gut. The window closes with a muted thud.

You kick your blankets to the end of the bed, keep the top sheet tucked up tight under your chin. Bottom lip bitten raw, a tremble in your fingers as you curl them around the sheets. A quick glance to the phone has you itching to call Billy, risk your parents’ wrath because you could use some reassurance right now that you’re not going crazy with this feeling.

But you resist. Neil hates it when you call past eight—well, he hates when you call, period, but before eight has less of a risk of Billy getting hurt. So you sink down into your pillows and bury your nose in Billy’s t-shirt, eyes closing as you distract yourself with his smell. Despite the loudness in your mind, the creeping paranoia, you fall asleep.

Billy isn’t at work the next day when you stop by in the afternoon, and the feeling hasn’t gone away. Heather gives you a snippy reply that he hasn’t shown up, and you try to keep the irritation out of your expression. Billy’s ex isn’t the most pleasant towards you.

It puts you at a loss as to where he could be if not at work. A drive by his house, the movie theater, the local diner, yields no results. Until you see his car, damaged and parked sideways, in the lot of the old steel mill. Heart in your throat, you squeal to a stop next to the Camaro.

“Billy?” you call as you get out, survey the damage of his car. The windshield is spiderwebbed, the driver’s side door dented as if something collided with it. Something heavy.

That feeling in your gut only grows as your worry does, and you call for Billy again. You do a full lap around the car before you look to the mill. It stands tall, dark, like a sentinel keeping guard. You swallow heavily but press forward. The phone in the booth outside hangs by its cord off the hook, the operator replaying her recorded message.

It’s horrifyingly chilling, the abandoned phone, but no more so than the dark dampness inside the mill. Inside, the air is cold, a bite to it that shouldn’t be found in the middle of the summer in Indiana. Yet it’s here, and it clings to your heart, grip icy as it flows out through your veins.

“Billy?” Your voice echoes in the empty space, and you’re reminded of a horror movie you watched once. You’re breaking paramount rules, but all that clouds your mind is finding Billy.

As you step foot onto the main floor, your breath expels in visible puffs, and a figure looms in your peripheral. Startling, you gasp and jump, hand to your chest before Billy’s familiar silhouette makes itself known.

“Jesus, Billy, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your voice is breathy, afraid, and your breathing catches when Billy steps into what little light shines through the musty windows.

Something’s wrong. His gaze is vacant, posture rigid yet careless at the same time. He looks unharmed, except for a small scrape on his temple.

“Billy?” you question, fear in your voice. He’s behaving oddly, eyes glassed over as if he doesn’t see you.

Until he does, and he grins, and it’s feral.

“Hello baby.” His voice is different, deeper, and despite the chill to it, the danger, it brings goosebumps to your skin as it rolls over you.

“Billy, are you okay? I saw the car.” The overwhelming urge to step closer to him is too great to ignore, but you wish you’d resisted when Billy’s eyes come into focus.

They’re ringed in black veins that wriggle and stretch across the whites of his perfectly blue eyes. You inhale sharply, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt as you resist reaching out to him.

“Billy, what’s going on? Your eyes....”

“We’ve been waiting for you, baby,” he says, and he takes a prowling step forward. Instinct has you taking one backwards. In the faint lighting a muscle in his jaw jumps as he grits his teeth. “Why are you running from me, baby? Don’t push us away...”

He backs you into a wall, the concrete frigid against your back, and you tremble. The look in his eyes is possessed, unbridled, primal. Despite the fright you’re feeling, there’s an underlying heat just beneath it, sparking and catching low in your belly. Your face warms with shame at the realization and Billy seems to pick up on, a lascivious smirk curling his lips.

“We can smell you, baby. You want this, don’t you?” He crowds your space, denim-clad hips pinning yours to the concrete. His arms, which you now notice are streaked with black, rise to cage you in. The black rivers ripple under his skin, and you tremble as he ducks his head, runs his nose along your pulse points.

It’s hammering away, and you know he can feel it. Hell, he can probably hear it. Your breath rattles in your lungs as he presses forward, licks a stripe up the side of your neck that shouldn’t feel as good as it does given the circumstances. Yet it still turns your legs to jelly.

“We can smell your fear,” he whispers darkly, voice trailing off as he punctuates his words with a slow roll of his hips. Your responding whimper is choked, unwanted, but it has Billy smirking against the side of your neck. “You smell so enticing.”

Despite the coldness of your heart, your body is on fire when he runs one of those tainted hands up underneath your shirt. His skin is ice cold to the touch and momentarily it breaks up the fog in your brain. Your hands brace on his chest, attempt to push him away, but he stands firm like a tree, and his chuckle is laced with dark promise.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying, and you’re not sure which one is more powerful.

He tilts his head down, nose to your neck, hot tongue tracing over your racing pulse. He hums appreciatively. Hands settle on your waist, duck under the waist of your jeans, pry the button open. Yours fly to his wrists but your grip is weak; the clenching of your core as Billy’s eyes are swallowed by lustful black keeps you from prying his hands away.

You yelp as Billy’s teeth pierce the skin of your neck, face heating in shame as it sends a hot wetness between your legs. Of their own volition your hips cant forward against his, and a growl, definitely not human, rumbles in his throat. It sets your teeth on edge, sends an icy shiver down your spine, yet you yield to him when he kisses you dirty, tongue and teeth and blood. Your mouth fills with iron as Billy’s tongue laps at the wet cavern of it, still grumbling in his throat.

Without warning he hoists you up by your thighs, the cement cold and rough where your shirt rides up in the back. You wriggle in his arms, a poor attempt to get your feet back on the floor, but he’s strong. Too strong, and he knows it. He grins, dark and mean and sinister. His mouth is harsh and biting as it claims yours again, those hands diving for the button on your jeans.

“Billy,” you whimper, the blur of tears in your eyes blending him in a mishmash of watercolor. “Billy, please, don’t do this.”

It’s such a conflicting thing to say, because even as you try to fight the heat under your skin, he just brings it to the surface again. He works quickly to shuck your jeans, and then his hands are there, oh god and it’s like you’re burning from the inside out. He chuckles again when he feels how utterly wet you are, dips his fingers between your folds, and pulls them free to show you.

“Are you really sure about that, sweetheart?” There’s a deeper undertone to his voice, and the black veins under his skin seem to pulse with life.

He frees himself from his jeans, long, thick, purple-red tip swollen and leaking. It should sicken you that he’s turned on by this, but only a small, quiet part in your brain is rationalizing. The other side is feeling raw, needy, primal, and all you want is the slow drag of his cock inside you.

He sees the neediness, the lust, in your eyes and he grins again. Billy pushes your panties to the side, thrusts his hips so that his hot, hard length glides along your lips and catches on your clit. He’s velvet over hot steel, and the stretch when he fills you pulls a ragged moan from your throat.

Billy doesn’t wait. He sheathes himself to the hilt, relishing in the sharp gasp at the burn as your walls stretch and clench around him. And he moves. Brutally hard and deep, knocking you into the wall on each thrust. It isn’t gentle, or loving, or tantalizing in any way, especially when he brushes your hair back and sinks in his teeth so hard he draws blood.

The tears blurring your vision have tipped over, both in fear and in complete euphoria. He’s vicious, pounding into you so hard it punches the breath from your lungs. You’re inconsolable, hands grappling to grab something, anything, as he fucks you into oblivion. You kind of hate yourself, but at the same time, you’re far too fucked out to care at the moment.

His voice is different when he leans over you and growls, “God, you’re so pretty like this.”

It doesn’t register, not completely, and all thought flies out the window when he reaches between you to pinch your clit, hard, making you scream into the empty warehouse. It echoes, reverberation bringing goosebumps to your arms as you tighten your fists in Billy’s shirt.

There’ll be bruises tomorrow where his hip bones are slamming into your ass, where his fingernails break the skin on your outer thighs. It’s overwhelming, the assault of his fingers on your clit, the beating your cunt is taking from his cock. His thrusts shove keening whines from your throat on the upstroke, and a particularly harsh grind of his pelvis on your clit has you coming apart against him. Voice hoarse and choked as you cry out your release.

Billy’s not far behind, and once he’s emptied inside you with a snarl, with astonishing strength he lifts you higher, attaches his mouth to your heat to lap up your juices and his. He’s merciless, tongue delving deep inside you to curl up against that place that sends you shooting off into another orgasm. You can’t even cry out, your voice stolen from your lungs. He sucks you dry, lands a harsh bite to your inner thigh as you sag against the wall.

You’re trembling, the shame finally washing over you, as Billy all but drops you to the floor. The concrete rough on your ass, tiny pebbles digging little indents. You can’t help but sob now, the realization of what had just occurred hitting you full force. Billy fixes himself, tucks his softening cock back in his jeans.

He tilts his head, peers down at you as those black veins move again. An impact tremor shakes the building, something moves in the shadows beyond Billy.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this, sweetheart,” he says, that deep overlay in his voice again, “but it’s what he wants.”

A frigidness comes over you when the shadows move, one massive, muscled limb stepping into the dim lighting in the warehouse. Billy backs up a few steps, giving you a full look at the monster as it edges closer. You can’t even scream, rendered stock-still by your fright as the monster growls, shows off rows and rows of jagged teeth. It has no eyes with which to see you, but see you, it does.

It ducks down, eye-level with you, and just as your scream is clawing up your throat, everything goes dark.

[thewolfswriting]

Tear You Apart Chapter 3

A/N: Read at own risk!

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Word Count: 1,621

Warnings: Sexual Content, Profanity, Breeding, Marking, Dubcon. Please, for the love of God, don't read if you're sensitive to dark explicit content!

Tag List:  @1998–js @amarachoren @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @billysgodcomplex @biliyonce @billy-spit @charmed-asylum @crazygirl3001 @cynthianokamaria @dreamwavej @hplotrfan @jojo-buttercup @kisseskitty @obsessive-aspie-girl @okaybutsteveharrington @mamasavespunk @nintendhoes-3ds @rosealicous @savagesuccubus @slither-in-a-half @thatpunkmaximoff @vickilove23 @xxemoluverxx @deepmuffinspymaker

---

Something wasn't right about today, something was off. You could feel it, you could sense it, but couldn't pin point whatever it was.

Monday came faster than what you thought. You couldn't stop thinking about the event that happened Friday night at your front door as you could still feel Billy's lips on yours. Of course you know what would've happened if you had let it go any further, if you had let your inner Omega submit to his inner Alpha. But you controlled yourself. Perhaps you started to actually like him?

You walked towards the pool area after exiting the changing room in your red one piece and to the lifeguard tower, climbing up to begin your shift.

"Hey Y/N?"

You looked down and lifted your sunglasses above your eyes to see Heather "Yeah?"

"Have you seen Billy? He didn't show up this morning." She sounded concerned.

It wasn't like Billy to miss work. He never did actually. That did concern you a little bit but then you thought, maybe he wanted to avoid you? Why would be want to? That couldn't be the case, at least to you it wasn't.

"Um, no I haven't seen him."

Where the hell is he?

---

Billy sat on his bed that day, eyebrows furrowed, hair a mess, and staring at the wall. Almost like he was trying to concentrate. Friday night, when he kissed her, oh god was it hard for him to control himself. He had his chance to take her. If she wouldn't have walked in that front door he would have right there. It's almost like he was driving himself crazy thinking about her. Or was that just the Alpha in him? Or maybe he's obsessed?

Whatever it is it'll go away he thought to himself. Well, if he can avoid her. Unfortunately for him, he can't avoid her for too much longer.

---

You couldn't help but worry about Billy through out the day. But then again you were pissed he didn't show up because you were short on staff. Stoping by his house had crossed your mind, just to see if he was okay. But it was getting late, you needed to go home and something told you not to go to his house.

Once you put your car in park and shut off the engine you slid out of the driver seat, you noticed your parents car wasn't in the driveway of your house. Where are they? You shrugged it off and walked to your front door, opening and closing it before spotting a note with your mother's hand writing next to the door frame.

Be home next week- love Mom

Well, at least you had the house to yourself. But, even at home, something didn't feel right.

---

The paranoid feeling that grew over your body kept you on alert as you showered as quick as you could. After wrapping a towel around your body and squeezing the excess water out your hair you make way to your bedroom, closing the door. You turned around as something told you to glance at your window, seeing the curtains rustling as it was completely open. That window wasn't open before.

You closed it, standing there for a moment as a horrific chill clings to your body and you shudder. Trying to shrug off the feeling you turn around, a noise of fright coming from your mouth as you jump, seeing a figure in your room. The figure stepped in the moonlight, the only light that shinned in your room.

"Billy?! What the hell are you doing in my room?! Where have you been all day?!" You walked around your bed to get a better look at him, but wished you hadn't the moment you saw his eyes. You watched as they turned black with the Alpha gold in the middle. Something is wrong.

You tried to control your heart beat as he took a step forward "Billy, what's going o-"

He's on you in an instant, your back against the matress, his hands gripping your waist roughly, his face at your neck. He's running his nose along your skin, you can see the black streaks along his arms "You're in heat" he licks along your neck "I can smell you. Your scent, your fear, all of it. It's intoxicating."

You tried to control the pitiful whimper that escaped your mouth. Having an Alpha's hands on you has your body on fire. You try to push him away with your hands on his chest but he doesn't budge. You felt the cool air around you as Billy ripped the towel from your body, he was quick to capture your wrists in his hands so you couldn't cover yourself. The growl that leaves his chest isn't human as he kisses your neck, Alpha fangs grazing over your skin. He stops at the valley of your breasts, his eyes changing again as he takes in the sight of them, your nipples are already hardened and begging for attention.

He let go of your wrists, his hands darting to squeeze at your breasts while taking one in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly while twisting, pulling, and pinching the other. You try desperately to muffle the sounds wanting to escape your lips, it sends waves lust to your core. If you didn't want this mentally, your Omega certainly did. But you didn't know which was stronger.

"Billy, please." You said in a hushed tone.

He pulled away from your chest to remove his shirt, grinning dark, noticing how you couldn't help but let your eyes wonder over his chest and abs. Your breath trembles when he kisses his way down your body, you're already soaked from being in heat and from the time his mouth spent on your breasts. You feel your body grow hotter as you can't help but watch him spread your legs and get comfortable between them. There it is, eyes changing color yet again, he smells you, his tongue trailing against the skin of your inner thighs. Before you got the chance to comprehend you're yelping as Billy's teeth sinks in one of your thighs, realizing he just marked you. The shame floods your body as you grow wetter.

There you are, completely exposed for him. Your core clenches as he takes a finger and slowly traces your swollen lips up and down before he moves his finger to your opening, fingertip sitting just between your lips as he was instantly met with resistance. This caused his inner Alpha to almost lose it, he would have to be patient with you, and patience was something Billy didn't have much of. He ever so slowly pushed his finger in, hearing a soft cry from your lips at the slight stretch of the twisting and turning of his finger inside you. He removed his finger from inside you before running his finger up and down your slit, coating you in your juices. You couldn't help but moan softly as his finger strummed your throbbing clit.

"You like that Omega? I know you do." Billy can't stop his cock from throbbing as he watches your hips slightly buck at your clit twitching with each stroke.

Not one but two fingers press against your opening, he's sliding them all the way in, the stroking of your clit helping you relax, he starts grinding his fingers deep against your soaking walls, finding your g-spot and rubbing against it. The pleasure starts to completely consume you as your walls grip his fingers. The pressure starts building inside you as Billy darts his tongue out to your clit, lapping at your sensitive nub. Tears that fogged your vision fell from your eyes as you couldn't control the orgasm that coursed through your veins.

He grabs you by your hips to roll you over on your stomach before removing the rest of his clothes and lining himself up. You turned your head, looking behind you and getting a full view of his long, thick, cock. Billy pushes your head to the mattress, your back curved and ass fully in the air. You knew this was how Alpha's and Beta's mounted their mates.

With his cock resting against your opening he rubbed the tip over your slit before struggling just to push the tip past your folds. You closed your eyes, feeling him slide in more, stretching you a bit. You're so unbelievably tight that it almost hurt him. This time your eyes changed colors when Billy managed to slide the rest of the way in. He pulled half way out before thrusting back in and stilled as he reached under and slides a hand down your stomach and towards your pelvis. His hand slides over a bump, that's when he realized he can feel his cock through you. Your breath hitches as you feel him thrusting against your walls. You want to hate yourself for pushing your hips back against him at the feeling of having your pussy full and getting fucked by an Alpha.

Of course he can't help himself when he hovers over you to whisper in your ear "You're so tight Omega. You like having an Alpha's cock inside you?"

Short gasps come from your mouth, another orgasm flooding your body as he continues thrusting inside you. While thrusting harder and faster Billy sinks his fangs in your neck, marking you one last time while emptying inside you.

You collapse on the bed as Billy rolled off of you. Registering what just now took place. You felt ashamed, but at the same time your inner Omega needed it, a part of you wanted it. You just been marked by am Alpha, and not just any Alpha.

[aggressiveviking]

“I fight for myself.”

i got inspired today when i saw @kelpie-earnest  [post] 

[insanitys-wonderland]

MindFlayer: *after killing a bunch of people* Look you believed what you wanted to believe because your true feelings were too gross and icky for you to face

Billy, affronted: I did NOT want them dead!

MindFlayer: You did too!

Billy: I did not!

MindFlayer: Did too!

Billy: I did not!

MindFlayer: You did too!

Billy: Did not! Did not! DID NOT! DID NOT! SHUT UP! I DID NOT WANT THEM DEAD!

MindFlayer: Oh come on, you did you're just not-

Billy, covering his ears: MÆRY HÆD A LÎTTŁË LÆMB LÎTTŁË LÆMB LÎTTŁË LÆMB

The Party and Steve standing outside the Camaro: *confused staring*

*muffled screaming* I DID NOT WANT THEM DEAAAAD! I DID NOOOOT!

[ihni]

In response to this text post by @flippyspoon (which I can’t seem to reblog properly, for some reason, so I’m doing this instead).