why don't you sleep on it?

♣: I HAVE A HANDFUL on like all different topics. one headcanon I have is that Quentin used to love reading but after forcing himself to do tons of research to deal with Freddy he almost can’t stand it now.

☄: BABY. BABY BOY.

Quentin stares into the campfire in front of him, watching the stacked wood slowly turn to charcoal. He picks up a twig from the ground he’s sitting on, mindlessly breaking it into tiny pieces, then throwing it into the flame. 

When he hears the man next to him speak, he almost doesn’t hear it over the cracking of the flame. He looks up to the boy sitting on the log beside him, looking into his eyes for a moment, watching the flames dance in their reflection. Quentin lets out a sigh, and leans back against the log he’s sat in front of.

“I don’t think it matters how many things you care about. Just that you do care about them wholeheartedly.”

He pauses, contemplating his next words. He cracks another tiny twig with his fingers, throwing it into the roaring fire.

your muse scolding mine for doing something dangerous

Did he need to go wildly wave his arms and make as much noise as possible to gain the Clown’s attention? No, not really. But Kate had look so worn, he could tell the girl needed a rest; he knows all too well that even the brightest of lights can dim. So he threw himself at the disgusting, barrel of a man, and ran as long as his thin legs could handle.

To Quentin’s surprise, he seemed to have lost him behind a corner of brick walls, only to bump into the same girl he was attempting to protect. The slender boy takes a moment to lean against the brick wall behind the pair, disregarding her concerned voice as he catches his breath. He offers the girl a meek smile, wiping the sweat from his brow onto the dirty sleeve of his well-worn jacket.

“Could’ve,” he states simply, standing up straight. He places a hand on Kate’s shoulder, a timid, lazy gesture of reassurance; a fleeting touch, as he soon after retracts his hand and tucks it inside of his pocket. 

i’m gonna be here when you wake up.

send ♫ and i’ll shuffle my music library and use my favorite lyric as a starter!

Quentin had once again awoken in the last place he wanted to be - Badham Preschool. Not only was he forced to participate in these awful trials, but they also forced him to relive this horrible place. The entity sure had a horrible sense of humor.

He felt his body start to tense, and he clenched his hands into fists. He let out a shaky breath, as he feels a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he spins around, only to see the one and only David King. A small sense of relief washed over him, as he offered the man a small wave. With a small motion to follow him, Quentin trekked behind the larger man.

Sooner than Quentin would have liked - actually, he would have preferred they never heard it - they heard the loud thumps of a heartbeat, and feet headed towards them. He looks over to David, his fear spreading across his face. Of course, the man next to him showed no fear, and simply looked back at Quentin with a small grin. 

Only a moment later, Quentin feels heavy breaths on the back of his neck. He spins around, only to see the Trapper’s cleaver coming down on him. Before he can react, he’s shoved to the ground and out of the way. He sits up and crawls backwards on his butt, watching as David runs into the huge killer, luring him away from Quentin. 

Quentin had no idea what to do. He wanted to stay and help David, but what could he do to help him? Of course, the question is answered for him when a deep yell from the man rings out to his ears. “Run”. David wanted him to leave, to get to safety, and of course, Quentin hesitates. But who was he to disobey the man that was saving his life?

So he ran. 

Where are you now?Where are you now?

Quentin isn’t sure how much time had passed. He hid in the basement of the preschool for a while, even though he absolutely dreaded that place. After a while, he didn’t hear anything anymore. No footsteps. No yells. No heartbeats. He cautiously went back up the stairs, but no one was to be found. 

He silently prays that David is alright. He’s done worse before, right? He squeezes the cross around his neck, and wanders out of the school, in search of the man. He begins walking casually down the street, keeping as quiet as he can in case the Trapper is still lurking somewhere nearby.

Under the bright but faded lightsYou’ve set my heart on fire

He finally spots the man, slumped over under a streetlight at the end of the road. Quentin rushes over to him, crouching in front of him, and placing a hand on his face. He taps David’s cheek gently, trying to keep the man conscious. He was covered in blood; and most of it was his own. 

“Hey. Hey, David. You’re gonna be okay.”

Quentin quickly sets down his med-kit and opens it up, and slowly helps David remove his jacket so he could get at the wounds to clean and wrap them. He gives the man a small smile when he winces in pain as Quentin touches the wounds, and tries to be as soft as he can.

Quentin had to admit; he felt terrible. Maybe if he had been more careful… More aware of his surroundings… David wouldn’t have had to step in. But most of all, he felt grateful. After patching the man up, Quentin gives him a soft hug, careful not to put too much pressure on his wounds.