#//if its any consolation im tormented too

[kibblemode]

ok so basicalyyyy

(included voiceclaims too bc its fun)

S1 involves crypt (vc david bowie) and ophelia (vc undecided atm) - ophelias arc is really quick bc i need s1 to focus more on the main villains i think. anyway the protags get lost in the woods for some reason and ophelia offers to lead them back to town but actually shes luring them deeper into the forest to her cabin so she can murder them and feed them to crypt. crypt Was her pet when she 1st found them after her parents died, but as they both grew up it turns out theyre actually fully intelligent. they make her kill people to keep them fed along with verbally and mentally abusing her and sometimes they get physically abusive too, and they often threaten to kill her if she doesnt feed them. obviously living with this for years affects her sanity, she ends up enjoying mutilating ppl as a kind of way to survive and eventually becomes more of a sadist. so anyway its obvious from the moment the protags meet her that Somethings not right just based on how erratically she acts, and they kinda sus her out pretty quick. she panics and attacks them but fails to kill them, which crypt is angry about and forces her off to the side to kill them themself. crypt dies obviously, idk how yet, maybe lenarr does it with his powers idfk. obviously ophelia is Devastated, but also relieved secretly. it takes her awhile to get over crypts death but after she does she thanks the protags and fucks off to live in her cabin peacefully lol

S2 involves noodle (vc dana snyder) and grem (vc 2mello), who is actually one of the main villains but hes important here i prommy - SO THIS ONES A BIGGER ONE bc i have room to do so now that the plot and characters are mostly Established. so a bit of backstory required on this one since noodle is a pre-established side character. noodle has been working at the royal familys castle since he was around 15, a lot like most of the other castle staff. unfortunately hes the one whos given the most odd/shitty jobs just by sheer coincidence, but hes convinced its because tix hates him for some reason. this isnt exactly helped by tixs spoiled rich kid personality he had when he was younger and just his general shittiness as a person (intentional or otherwise), and also indie (being tixs advisor and technically noodles 2nd boss despite being younger than him) is naturally bossy and blunt which made it worse too. so noodle is Already fed up with tix constantly antagonizing him (indie he doesnt actually care about as much because hes close friends with her boyfriend), that combined with how absolutely Nothing his personal life is, he just kinda Has it one day and decides hes going to do something awful to tix. so for context, grem is tixs ex, noodle knows he exists but doesnt actually Know him. he steals tixs old demonomicon from when they were still together and summons grem using his own blood. grem would Never miss an opportunity to torment tix at this point in the show bc he Also hates him. grem offers noodle a contract and he accepts without reading too much into it. grem basically implants a living embodiment of pure demon magic into noodles open wound (thats how he gets his snake tattoo btw) and it gives him magical powers Permanently. since noodle is my boyfailure hes very bad at using them but eventually Does get the hang of it, and plans to destroy tixs home and anyone that tries to stop him from doing so. NOW. ANOTHER bit of context. noodle was tixs go to babysitter for tiabi (tixs daughter) and noodle genuinely likes and cares for her very much. that being said, tiabi basically has to console this grown ass man whos having a major power trip rn bc shes the only one he wouldnt Ever harm in any way. this is undecided but im thinking maybe grem gets frustrated and maybe posesses noodle or something similar. hence noodles redemption episode being titled "exorcism" but idrk

S3 involves eugene (vc weird al) - so after the events of s2 i figured itd be good to have a silly, only semi-serious villain lol. this one was fairly recently given a MAJORRRR revision, eugene is my bffs (@/killer12345blog) oc that he made as a joke but i got attached to him lol. anyway eugene is a master shapeshifter that takes on a bastardization of tixs form to frame him for a wide variety of terrible crimes in ordsr to ruin his reputation. the reason he does this is to get tix out of the pucture so he can replace him and take over his life. he was successful in "replacing" other ppl in the past so this time he goes for tix, who is technically a very important political figure (hes a prince). while most of eugenes more sinister stuff goes on behind the scenes without it being revealed that he was the one doing it the Whole time, he pretends to be an ally to the main protags, hes actually naturally charming and his personality makes him very likeable. what hes ACTUALLY doing is cozying up to tixs friends to try to make them prefer him while furthing the evidence that tix is responsible for all eugenes crimes he did. its actually presented in a way that makes the person watching Also suspect tix. so eventually zach and lenarr realize theres some differences in how eugenetix acts vs how tix Actually acts, and start to believe it wasnt actually tix doing it. eugene gets mad as hell and goes mask off villain mode when lenarr and zach dont choose him over tix, and by that point its obvious what eugene was doing the entire time. so he attacks the protags, and since hes using tixs species as a base for the forms hes taking atm that means they cant kill him as easily bc he would only be killed by the same things that can hurt tix. This part i havent Fully gotten to just yet but they do come up with a convoluted home alone ass plan to lure eugene into a trap and kill him to DEATH (me and art agreed. even tho eugene actually dies for real im still using him as a bg character bc itd be funny)

S4 involves moff (vc uhhh. idk. who tf voices spinel from su) SO THIS ONES GONNA BE SHORT. its underdeveloped and s4 has a Lot of important shit happening w the main characters so itll be hard to fit in. a lot like s1 lol. anyway moff is an aspiring writer and is heavily invested in fandom culture and stuff lol. hes unhappy with how the writing of the show is done and wants to change it (dumb as fuck 4th wall break i know but who gaf) obviously this freaks the other characters the fuck out and they think hes crazy. BUT moff is the proud owner of a magic journal or something that he can write something in and it happens. this ones more lighthearted too, he doesnt do anything toooo awful with it its just weird and the other characters hate it so they try to stop him. this is very very hard bc of moffs journal, but they Are successful and his journal gets set on fire to get rid of it forever lol

[dark-side-blog3]

I play degrees of lewdity! day 2 warning for canon typical violence, noncon, and spoilers

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I went into the woods to see if something could interest me. Wenta little far in and heard a wolf howl. FUCK 0x0

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I managed to avoid the wolves so now I'm thinking that's only gonna be a problem if you've got beastiality toggled on. Also picked up some arrow heads that I can apparently sell at the museum! And I've got school the next ingame day so now I'm worried how I'm gonna be able to grind and get the cash i need for Bailey while also going to school... There's got to be consequences if you don't go to school, right? Even though this game is focused on fantasy rape? I feel like there are consequences if you don't go to school... Surely...

On the plus side I got hired at the docks for weekends so maybe that'll be good and help me earn some cash!

++++

ROBIN SOLD HER CONSOLE! Is there a way to spot her a bit of cash? :( I took her for a picnic so we had a little bit of fun and didn't end up staying out at night (can you get raped while walking with someone else in this game? Like irl yes but in game? The logic ain't really logic-ing because its a videogame so maybe it cancels out?)

also i found mickey and im trying to get him to purge my records of constant rape from the files and he's kinda weird?

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I forgot to save my game file before working at the brothel and I just didn't like it :/

Sooooo I'm going back to my last save which was before school started. I've got to redo all my efforts for classes but whatever :p

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Got raped while leaving school. its the cigerette event. Meh :/

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ey i am not a catholic but Sydney is amazing. Actually the best character in this game. I hope nothing bad ever happens to him and I will fight for this :) <3 What a wholesome guy.

AH sydney just asked what it means when people flirt with him. I know he's a grown man and can technically engage if he wants but he's so innocent I can't tell him the truth... I comforted him :')

++++

Loft discovered and exams passed eyyyyyy very good

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I got raped and they stole my skirt and panties! I tried to walk to the store to buy more clothes but I got accosted on the beach! My character ended up passing out from the pain. When i woke up a different group has stolen the rest of my clothes and collared me, and hypnotised my character to strip instead of concealing any exposed skin, which has six different body-writing phrases!

Fuck!

++++

Robin has confessed that she feels like Bailey is unreasonable :( poor girl.

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ROBINS AT THE DOCKS?!?!?!?! SHE COULDN'T AFFORD TO PAY!

Im gonna save here incase i change my mind.

attempted to fight: Lost. Badly. Afterwards, got tossed into the sea without my clothes, got exposure, passed out, woke up with the feat "Alluring" achieved. Robin is still on the boat. proceed to get raped as soon as i wake up again. This is going to be struck from my record.

attempt to take robins place: She's successfully back on shore, I got tossed overboard while stripped and passed out again. Dolphin merfolk played with me though so I stopped being stressed. Swam to shore, and somehow it made my character less stressed. Got swept out to sea. ended up getting picked up by a boat and getting raped, but not by the same people as before. Fuckers tossed me overboard afterwards. Got beat up immidietly afterwards too by another gang of rapists. Robin better be as loyal as a dog to my character after this.

Had just enough energy to go get shackles removed at museum. and woke up in the hospital with doctor harper again. I am now supposed to go to therapy every Friday at the hospital. And I've now been arrested by the police, and am preforming five days of community service.

I took Robin to the hospital. I swear, Robin better be worth all the torment I went through. And there better be a DAMN good reason I have to drag Robin to the hospital after I literally passed out from pain and had to be carried in on a stretcher.

+++++++

Robin has not infact helped at all and has been somewhat useless.

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had consensual sex with a guy and it was actually so sweet <3 Askd him to wear a condom for oral sex and he did and he gave praise the whole time, what a sweet guy <3

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SOMEONE BROKE INTO MY ROOM WHILE I WAS GONE AND NOW MY PANTIES ARE MISSING???? WHAT THE HELL-- its got to be someone bailey approved of because he's canonically thrown a pervert out when they don't have a reason to be perving in the orphanage, but also??? I've been paying bailey, I've never missed a payment, and I've never fought him. Why??? Is it Kylar?

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I am in therapy w/harper, and he wants to hypnotize me. This feels like its about to go horribly wrong. It doesn't tell me what it is exactly when i overwhelmed, so I'm going to have to try really hard to keep my stress down!

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Aight I am making another save file with robin cuz i actually really like this timeline even though robin is useless

Also the cream buns are so good that whats his name (sam?) is buying the store next to it, which is great... Except for the fact that this is how i grind out the most cash. And I decided to take on robins debt like a moron.

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Kylar is stalking me. Confirmed because something was watching me since i left the house, and I saw him do that horror movie trope with the bus at nightinggale street.

But also i might restart the save because despite taking robins debit robin isn't at school. I'm not paying extra if shes not even here :/

Ah but a quick look at the reddit says this is normal, robin is just getting the fuck beat out of them. Well... Aint nothing I can do about that now.

+++

Got raped while trying to break into houses, and got raped on my way to the hospital for after pills :/

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My character is getting raped by rando's so much I'm bored reading the chats and I'm bored documeting them. I'll add anything of note. Like whatever the fuck is up with the mommy kink ginger sewer woman. Did not enjoy that. I am into mommy/daddy stuff within reason, and this was far outside of it.

+++

GOT RAPED AND WE KNOW WHAT HARPER HYPNOITSED ME FOR!! My character now gets aroused with painal, and smacking other peoples asses.

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" You chat with Sydney. "No one else has made such an effort to get to know me like this. Not in a long time, at least. I appreciate it." He holds up his holy pendant, kisses it, and places it against your forehead. "Blessings." | - Trauma" UWAAAHHHHH uwahhahanannannmmamammhpmmmhmmmmmmmwuaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh I WOULD DIE FOR SYDNEY ;A; Like the cross thing is... a tiny bit uncomfy, but its known he is such a sweetheart and no one wants to talk to him??? uwahhhhh poor boooyyy..... (I've had some bad run ins with various religious students who were super religious so when I say this crucifix use is a nice one TRUST me its so sweet because I know what threating crucifix use is). SYDNEY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SWEET DARLING (platonic)

+++

HARPER PUT ME IN THE ASYULM?!?!?!?!?! HE KIDNAPPED ME! AM I IN A SOFTLOCK?! WHAT ABOUT BAILEY?! I HAVEN'T PAID HIM! HARPER KIDNAPPED ME?!?!?!?!?

I'M GOING TO LOOSE MY FUCKING MIND OAOAOBQGOAFACEQWRAGW

[megapolismayor]

brb tormenting aaron with mayor and lbd lore

[orionwhispers]

Perfect Places // Steve Harrington

(A/N - yep. this isnt peaky, i know. im taking a little breather so i dont completely burn out writing tommy, but trust me i have 3 wips for him coming soon!! i dont know if any of you guys will like this bc its stranger things and thats ok!! i just had a blast writing it and i love steve and it really challenged me. pls let me know if u like it!! stay safe my loves xxx)

warnings - angst but also so much fluff your teeth will rot 

You felt like the moon was mocking you.

It loomed overhead, round and full and beautiful, the colour of purity and innocence, a beacon of light contrasting against the ink coloured sky. Your face was red hot, streaked with tears that dripped down your nose and collarbone and into your shirt, staining you with sadness that you could feel clawing under your skin.

You were sat on the Byers’ front porch, the sneakers you had once kept so pristinely clean were now caked in mud, your socks soaked through. You felt numb, you ached for something; a familiar lash of anger or heartache, anything to make you feel human again, but you just felt numb.

You could hear clattering from inside the house, low murmurs of voices and whispers tangling together, but you blocked them out like it was just white noise. The steady hum of those you loved and trusted brought some comfort, but that was instantly replaced by longing for the one person who deserved to be there, the person who deserved to still be alive.

You had been ecstatically high on adrenaline, you were terrified but vivacious as you helped bundle your boyfriend and the kids into Hoppers’ car as he raced past the Laboratory’s gates. You remembered the feeling of Steve’s hands around your waist as he pushed you into the back, flustered and protective, determined to get you away from any danger.

You should have said something.

You knew something was wrong, but you kept quiet. The air in the car was thick and dense like smoke, and Hopper was covered in crimson coloured splotches, you noticed the way he didn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. You should have said something, should have asked where your Uncle was, should have demanded an answer, but instead you pushed those thoughts away and watched the road through the windshield until your vision went blurry, Steve’s thumb soothingly rubbing over the top of your hand.

You knew he felt it too.

It was only when you reached the driveway of the Byers bungalow, feet moving on autopilot, tearing through the front door and seeing Joyce waiting for you, tears running down her face as she pulled you into her chest, did you realise the immensity of the situation. You let out a wail that could rival a demogorgon, sinking down into the coarse fabric of her hospital gown, her hands clambering across your frame, desperate to offer any comfort she could.

Steve was beside you in an instant, gripping your elbows to stop you falling onto your knees and onto the shag carpet, cradling you into him like a child. He felt so helpless, not knowing how to ease your pain, words getting stuck in his throat like cotton balls as he watched the girl he loved shatter into pieces. One look at his familiar face contorted in torment and it set you off again, coughing and spluttering like you were drowning in your tears. You pushed the consolatory hands off of you harder than you had intended, feeling suffocated and in desperate need of some form of relief. You were no good to anybody like this, you needed to wallow in your grief alone, Joyce had bigger problems and you refused to drag her down under with you.

You stumbled towards the front door, murmuring “I need some air.” You sank into the darkness like it was an old friend, wrapping your arms around yourself as your head throbbed and pulsed. You let the cold air hit your bare skin and fell to the ground, knees to your chest and silent screams leaving your throat.

Steve ran forward to be by your side, but Hopper pulled him back by the hood of his jacket, a large hand consoling your distraught boyfriend, “Let her go kid, give her a minute.”

He gave you five.

Watching the hands tick away meticulously on the clock above the fridge, he flexed his fingers and allowed the slow and steady noises to keep him grounded. He loathed the idea that you were outside alone, beautiful face covered in tears, heartbroken and shattered. Not only that but the knowledge that those things could be looming in the woods waiting to sink their teeth into you was driving him mad with paranoia. The only thing stopping him from pulling you inside where he could safely watch you was the unwavering concern that not letting you grieve would do more harm than good, so he settled for watching you through the window, hands clamped around his trusty bat - just in case.

————————————————————

You were sure you had run out of tears. Exhausted and dehydrated, you buried your head in the palm of your hands, desperate to stop the mind numbing pain at the back of your skull. The trees rustled gently, olive coloured leaves glinting under the stars. You wondered what could be lurking inside of the forest, but you were too drained to care.

You heard the door creak behind you, but relaxed at the familiar weight of Cortez’s against the soft wood.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost timid. Sounding so foreign coming from his mouth, so cautious and kind that it almost made you start crying all over again. He paused momentarily, before inhaling and sitting down beside you, his long legs awkwardly bent, his back starting to ache, but he couldn’t care less. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, unsure how to break down the barrier that was forming between you. Your hazy eyes lingered on the T-shirt’s and sweaters dangling from the Boyce’s washing line, sleeves swaying with the movement of the wind, almost as if there was an invisible person dancing inside.

Steve was the first to break the silence. He usually was, his quick wit and smooth demeanour had been one of the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place, the only person you had ever met that could make you melt into a puddle and then cry with laughter with just a few sentences.

“How you holding up?” He faltered, picking angrily at a loose thread hanging from his denim jeans. “That was a stupid question, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t trust yourself to form words just yet, but you tilted your head as much as you could muster, communicating with your boyfriend in that nauseating way that only the both of you understood, except this time it felt sour instead of sickeningly sweet.

You crunched a stray leaf under your shoe, mulling over the sound as it tore under your heel. “It doesn’t feel real.” You muttered finally, biting your lower lip with your front teeth, letting the pain stop your tears. “I keep expecting to see his face, his stupid goofy grin.” You smiled gently, “I keep waiting for him to turn up and say it’s all a prank, but I know he won’t, he’s too kind for that.”

“He was the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Steve said truthfully, “He was a good guy.”

Was. Three words that swam around your head and tangled your stomach into knots and you choked on the thickness in your throat. The strangled groan was so heartbreaking that Steve wanted to tear apart the things that did this to you with his bare hands, but instead he pulled you closer with them, clasping you against his chest.

He let you cry, he let you ruin his t-shirt and cover him in your mascara and wet, hot tears. He would let you bawl into everything he owned, even his prized The Clash shirt or limited edition Charlies Angels sweater that was buried in the back of his wardrobe - he would give it all to you, to stain and rip and ruin, if it meant you had at least one moment of solace.

Under the beautiful navy sky littered with stars, Steve sighed, wishing he knew what to say. He wished that he was as articulate as Nancy, or as strong as Hopper, he’d even take being as soft spoken as Jonathon, if he knew it would make you feel better. But you hadn’t fallen in love with any of them, you had fallen in love with him and he was going to do everything in his power to try and make his girl hurt a little less. So he tried to distract you.

“Do you remember our first date?” He said, breaking the silence, his eyes focusing on the branches of a tree swaying in the distance.

He heard you sniffle, felt the rise of your head under the palm of his hands. If you were surprised by his question you didn’t show it. “How could I forget?”

He smiled, thinking back to the day, over two years ago. If he thought hard enough he could almost relive the gut twisting anxiety and the sweat pooling on the nape of his neck as he pulled up to your house. The two of you had been friends forever, bound since the day you both shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the playhouse in kindergarten. But you both started naturally drifting apart around the end of middle school, settling onto different paths as you grew up, only really seeing each other in the hallways or at the back of the school bus.

By the time you both entered high school, Steve was completely swept up with basketball and his newfound popularity, and you were settling into your own friendships and trying to stay on top of your grades. You rarely saw one another, but by chance the two of you were paired as lab partners one semester in sophomore year, and soon science became his favourite subject. Seeing you became the highlight of his day, better than scoring a goal in basketball or cutting class with Tommy and Carol. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, the conversation so easy and genuine, and he made it a personal challenge to have you in stitches by the time the bell rang.

He fell hard, and fast. He had always thought you were beautiful, even when you were just kids and you wore your hair in two braids and seemed to always be covered in glitter. There was just something about you, an ease and a lightness that you carried, something about your smile and sound of your laugh that had him stumbling over his sentences like an idiot. He liked hearing about all of the things he had missed, like how you got grounded for sneaking out of your room to go and watch the new Star Wars, or how you crashed your dads car into a tree the very first hour after you got your license.

It wasn’t long before he realised that his day didn’t feel complete unless he had spoken to you. He started noticing how every game he searched for your face in the bleachers, the only person he really cared about seeing. His eyes would flicker over faces at parties, determined to find your sparkling eyes and kind smile, finding the hit of seeing you more electric than the cheap beer and fizzled out joints being passed around him.

He was nervous. He didn’t get nervous - he was Steve Harrington for Christ’s sake, but somehow you had managed to turn his whole world on its axis. He tried to live his life with as little regrets as possible; but in the quiet of his bedroom, with the moonlight casting shadows across his walls, he couldn’t help but feel furious with himself. If he could go back in time and do everything all over again, he would make sure to hold onto you as tight as possible and stop the two of you drifting apart.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were a knockout. The kind of girl that would bring even the strongest of men to their knees, the kind of girl that lingered in his brain long after he had fallen asleep. He also knew that he wasn’t the only one who had been completely captivated by you. He had seen the way Mike Adams cornered you after the school assembly, laughing at something you said as you sat with a group of friends, an enamoured look in his eye. He saw the way Jacob Taylor tried his hardest to get as close to you as possible at a house party, dazed by the way you twirled your hair obliviously and smiled like white, hot sunshine.

He knew what they were going through, smitten and stupid and dopey and practically a puddle at your feet, because he felt exactly the same way.

He was going to ask you out to dinner and then the movies. He had an elaborate speech planned in his mind, one that he had practiced in the mirror repeatedly - not that he would ever admit it. He was nervous. So goddamn nervous of screwing up the one thing that he really fucking liked, of potentially ruining your friendship and making himself look like an ass for misreading the signals and making you uncomfortable that he almost talked himself out of it as he walked into the physics lab one rainy afternoon.

But when he saw you there, looking up at him. As sweet as cinnamon in your oversized lab coat and stupid goggles, lips slightly chewed and fingertips stained with charcoal, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“Doyouwanttogooutwithme?”

For a moment he wished he took photography class, so he could snap a picture of the blush on your cheeks, have a physical copy of your wide smile and the glint in your eyes; something to look at when he was trying to fall asleep.

“About time, Harrington.” You had said, and it had knocked all of the wind from him, and he had walked around with a big goofy grin for the entire rest of the day.

————-————————————————

“I remember being so goddamn nervous. I thought I was going to throw up.” He said now, his voice laced with humour, somehow always knowing how to diffuse any situation.

You curled up further into him, craving his stability and warmth, and you relaxed as you felt his palm rubbing comforting circles across your back.

He looked into the darkness, remembering the anxiety filling him as he waited for you on the street by your house. He remembered peering into the rear view mirror, fluffing the edges of his hair with his fingertips, twisting and pulling the strands until they sat where he wanted. He could feel his leg shaking, foot hovering above the gas as he struggled to keep his composure. He hadn’t even been this nervous when college scouts came to a game, and he seriously needed to stay cool before you opened the door and saw him.

“You brought me flowers.” You said quietly, and he looked down at you with a gentle smile, his heart clenching at the sadness in your voice.

He remembers standing in the grocery store, cursing and muttering under his breath, wondering what was more romantic: tulips or sunflowers.

He bought both.

He can remember holding them in his shaking hands as carefully as he could as he walked up the stone path to your house.

“I had to talk myself into ringing the doorbell.” He felt you scoff under him and he laughed,

“Seriously! I was terrified, more scared than I was tonight.”

Its a lie. Running through the junkyard and fighting off strange monsters had been exhilarating, but also the most terrifying experience of his life; especially when he knew that the kids and you were just metres away, hidden in the old bus. He really thought he was about to die when the demodog reared and snarled in his face, teeth gnashing at his throat, but in those moments all he could think about was protecting you.

It’s strange, he had never been so terrified to lose someone.

“And then Bob opened the door.” Your voice was heavy and thick, like you were swallowing honey and it snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him of the reason you were both huddled outside.

Your parents worked ninety percent of the time, only really coming home to crawl into bed and then driving back to work six hours later. You were used to it though, falling into a somewhat stable routine of eating TV dinners and doing your homework to the sounds of Jeopardy! playing in the background. Despite the lonely nights and your parents distance, there was always one person who tried their absolute best to make you feel safe and secure. Your uncle, Bob Newby.

The goofy, gold hearted manager at RadioShack was always there for you, especially whenever your parents weren’t. He always made sure your refrigerator had something green inside, and would come over after work to sit and watch cheesy rom coms with you. He even installed new locks and security lights in the yard and on the porch, just to make you both feel better, even though it was Hawkins - and nothing ever happens there.

He was basically a surrogate dad and your best friend, and you weren’t even embarrassed to admit it. Some of the happiest nights of your life had been with him, like when you went to the midnight viewing of The Godfather and shared toffee popcorn and cherry twizzlers, or when he drove you to Lake Michigan for your birthday and you ate sandwiches next to the water.

So when he found out the captain of the basketball team had asked you out on a date, he was a little apprehensive.

“He really grilled me.” Steve muttered with a sad smile, it hurt him that one of the most poignant moments of his life was now to be covered in a thick, black cloud, and he could only imagine what you’re going through. “I thought he was going to pull out a shotgun.”

“Psh. It would have been a lightsaber.”

You remembered shovelling in cereal at the breakfast bar the morning of your date. Bob watching you over his steaming mug of coffee curiously.

“So… Any plans for today?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at your uncle. “Steve is taking me out. This is only like the billionth time I’ve told you.”

He nodded, “Right, Right. Steve. Steve.” He tested the name on his tongue. “And Steve is - the captain of the basketball team right?”

“Yep.” You said, through a mouthful of sugar. “Oh, and he’s the leader of this really tough biker gang, to get in you have to murder three kittens.”

You watched his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and then slowly fall back to their original spot when he caught on to your teasing. He held up his hands in playful surrender, taking a swig of his drink and then placing his mug on the granite counter.

“I know I’m being a fusspot! But I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know, Bob! But I’ll be fine! We’re just going to catch a movie and then dinner.”

“Ok.” He sighed, turning to wash up the dishes left from the previous nights pig out fest, but his hands stilled before he could twist the faucet. “Wait! Nothing R rated - or too romantic, and tell him to knock it off if he tries that whole ‘I’m so tired, let me put my arm around you schtick!’”

“I’m ignoring you now!”

You remembered getting ready, picturing the soft blush hue of your summer dress, and the taste of your strawberry gloss on your lips. You remembered the heat of your curling iron as you meticulously styled your hair, checking your reflection as a way to distract from the minutes ticking by.

You knew the familiar feeling of sweaty palms and butterflies before a date, but that morning it was as if somebody had realised a kaleidoscope of monarchs and swallowtails inside of you. You were completely nauseous, but so excited, and you felt like you were floating on cloud nine, unable to believe that Steve Harrington - the boy you had been crushing on since first grade - wanted to take you out.

You were nervously touching up your makeup, widening your eyes and applying yet another coat of mascara, when you heard commotion downstairs - and the telltale sound of your date getting completely grilled. You practically flew to your feet, haphazardly tying your converse and grabbing your purse, hoping to save Steve from the clutches of your overprotective Uncle. You nearly slid down the carpet when you noticed the door was ajar, smiling widely at the sight of Steve clutching two bouquets, his hair perfectly coiffed and his sneakers white and gleaming.

“- No I’ve never been in an accident, Sir.” You heard Steve say, his voice carrying through the hallway.

“Hmm?” You heard Bob reply, “And what about alcohol? Do you drink it?

“Only eggnog at Christmas.” Steve replied with a grin, his lips falling down when Bob sent him a glare. “Ok, not in the mood for jokes.”

“Are you under the influence now?”

“What? No! Why would I… Wow.” He faltered when he noticed you at the top of the stairs, and for the first time his mind went totally blank, his brain short circuiting at the sight of you. He felt his mouth go dry and he struggled to say something, not wanting to look like any more of an idiot than he already was, but Bob got there first.

“You look great, sweetheart.” He said, voice brimming with pride.

You blushed a deep crimson, feeling awkward under both of their stares. “Thanks, Bob.”

As soon as you reached the floor you blinked up at the men watching you, raising a brow slowly when Steve didn’t move. “So are you ready?”

“Yep. Yes. Yep.” He said quickly, rummaging around his pockets for his keys, and then realising they were in his hands the whole time. “Lets go.”

“Be home before eleven!” You heard Bob yell, his words just carrying into the night before you managed to slam the front door shut.

After the initial awkward meeting at your door, and Bob shooting unconvincing daggers at Steve as he guided you towards his car, the rest of the date went smoothly. You had been out with boys before; middle school crushes that took you to the ice cream parlour in town, and letting your best friend rope you in for a double date with a boy you had never met - but nothing like this.

As the car lulled through the streets, any unease forming quickly uncoiled between the two of you, and it wasn’t long until you were both in stitches. It felt so natural and easy, and you found yourself wanting to know everything about the hazel haired man sitting next to you.

You ate at a diner just outside of town, because according to Steve: “they have the best strawberry milkshakes - ever. I swear they’re like crack.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Harrington.” You had said, shooting him a million dollar smile over your shoulder. He was glad that you walked in first, because it felt as though a bullet had soared through his gut.

——————————————————————-

“I remember the milkshakes.” You said. Steve looked down at you, curled up on his lap. He nodded at your words, thinking of summer days and winter nights snuggled up in your booth at the diner. You must have shared hundreds by now, drinking such an obscene amount of the sweet treat it was a surprise neither of you looked like a strawberry. You had ruined the fruit for him. He couldn’t take a bite from a strawberry without remembering the taste of your lips or the sound of your laugh, it was conditioned into him like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it, strawberries had become his favourite fruit.

“I told you those milkshakes were great.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He could feel you wobbling under him, could feel the heart wrenching tremor of your body starting to shake with tears and he swore internally, trying his best to distract you again.

“And then we watched Ghostbusters.”

You let out a half hearted laugh. “And you almost shit yourself when you saw Slimer.”

“He popped up outta nowhere!”

“And then you spilt popcorn everywhere.”

“Yeah, that old lady was pissed.” He clicked his tongue at the memory, crumbs and melted butter flying everywhere, the entire row in front covered in his mess and glaring at you both, you laughing so hard into your sleeve you thought you might just pass out.

“And then I drove you home - way before curfew I might add - because I’m a gentleman.”

“And then you kissed me.”

“I think you’ll find you kissed me.”

“Ha.You wish.”

It felt good to hear the bite back in your voice, and it warmed him like a zap of electricity that his plan of distraction was working.

Besides, it was partly true - you had kissed him first.

That night as he pulled into your driveway, his gut felt like a huge boulder inside of him. There was nothing more that he wanted then to lean over the console and kiss you, but he was too goddamn nervous.

The date had gone so brilliantly, and he could feel himself, tripping, stumbling and falling completely head over heels for you, but he was so uncharacteristically anxious that it was kind of freaking him out. He was getting all worked up about things he had never thought of before, like his teeth clashing against yours, or accidentally knocking your heads together and giving you a mild concussion.

He left his car running, because he didn’t want you to be cold, (and the constant vibrations were good at hiding the tremor in his legs). It was fully black outside, the night sky a long stretch of navy and the stars were pretty but not nearly as pretty as the girl smiling at him in the passenger seat. Just as your eyes connected and he thought he was going to finally kiss you, the porch light turned on, a nice little reminder from Uncle Bob that he was still watching. You laughed exasperatedly and reached over, filling the distance between you as you tried to grab the strap of your handbag and Steve leant over to give you a hand with the sticky door, but instead your lips caught his and he froze in place, his eyes closed and his heart feeling like a jackhammer in his chest, all of his worries evaporating behind him like ocean spray, because suddenly everything felt right.

“Night, Harrington.” You had said smugly, leaving him in his car that suddenly smelt like cotton candy and coconut shampoo, and with an entire carnivals worth of fireworks erupting from his stomach.

————————————————————

“When I got inside he pretended he had just woken up.” You said now, your words coated with tears but laced with tenderness. “Tried to act like he wasn’t staring through the window watching us kiss.”

Steve tangled his fingers through your hair, anchoring the two of you together, hoping that the small action would give you at least some comfort. He mulled over all of the memories the two of you shared, picturing them shattered at his feet like shards of shimmering glass. He wasn’t sure how to comfort you and it hurt, the silence settling around you like thick, poisonous gas.

“What about our first anniversary? The first time we committed a felony.”

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Yeah and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time either, you little criminal.”

He remembered when you went out to a much too fancy restaurant in the city. How angelic and beautiful you looked in a little sundress and heels, stealing the breath right out of his lungs whenever he looked at you. How even when he was out of his comfort zone you felt like home, always making him feel stable no matter where he was. He remembered those glances you stole at one another, tongue in cheek laughter and suppressed smiles at the strange place you were both in, the two of you sticking out amongst the older, richer and snootier couples like a sore thumb.

He remembered the glint in your eye and the look on your face, the one that had him completely wrapped around your little finger - (but really, you could look at him anyway and he was a complete goner). It was how you both stood up at the same time, grabbing your handbag and wallet and rushing through the sea of people, laughing loudly as he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you with him, dodging the doorman who was cursing loudly at the kids who had just dined and dashed, even though neither of you had had more than a mouthful of your overpriced starter.

“You are such a bad influence, (Y/L/N).” He had scolded, playfully pinching the inside of your thigh as you lay stretched out on a picnic blanket overlooking the forests on the edge of town. You swatted him away, and he felt his breath hitch at the sight of you, hair tousled and makeup slightly worn, so effortlessly beautiful beneath the headlights of his car.

“Oh, please Hargrove. You would be lost without me.”

He didn’t reply, because it was true.

Instead he leaned over your body, stealing a quick kiss and also a handful of fries from the drive thru bag next to you.

“Hey!” You whined, leaning up and swatting at him. “Those are mine!”

“Technically, technically,” He said, licking salt from his fingertips. “They were at the bottom of the bag, not in either of the cartons - so they were never really yours.”

You rolled your eyes, punching him softly in the gut and laughing as he collapsed on top of you. “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”

He ran his tongue over a canine, finding clarity in your eyes.“I can’t believe you’ve put up with me for a whole year.”

“Me neither, but the money your dad gives me to go out with you makes it worth it.”

His finger trailed along the bridge of your nose, his lips curling the same as the path his fingerprints followed. “Stupid.” It was a terrible comeback, but when you looked up up at him like that, all of his sentences spilt into a bowl of mismatched alphabet soup. He blinked down at you, feeling the way his heart hammered against his rib cage, engulfed in the terrifying feeling of being so in love with somebody. “Seriously though, this has - this has been the best year of my life.”

Your rosebud lips parted, showing him that dammed smile that would make him burn down the whole town if you asked him to. “Mine too.”

——————————————————————-

“Remember when I got a black eye because of you?” He murmured, glancing up at the stars that flickered above you both.

“Because of me?” You scoffed, halfheartedly. “Hardly.”

“Ok. Keep telling yourself that.”

There was once a time where he loved nothing more than spending Friday through Sunday completely wasted, waking up on somebodies couch, his mouth tasting like sour liquor and his clothes scattered across the floor - but not after he met you. He used to long for the high from downing tequila shots or jumping into the pool with hazy eyes, a burnt out joint being passed around friends, but soon he realised that nothing came close to the fever high he got from simply being around you.

He remembered sitting in the school parking lot on a Friday afternoon, listening to Tommy and Carol natter about how a group of seniors were going to break into the rec centre and get drunk, but there words were nothing but static as he looked for you among the familiar faces.

You had been officially dating for a few months, and much to Tommy’s dismay, it seemed as though neither of you had any intention of letting the other go. It stung the teenager when Steve started blowing him off to hang out with you, his usual alibi for wild parties leaving him high and dry. He was jealous of the way you managed to consume all of Steve’s attention, and the fact that since the two of you had gotten together, Steve was so much kinder to everyone, and didn’t want to join in with his juvenile antics. When you went to parties, he drank less and laughed more, and Tommy was left doing shots and keg stands alone.

More than anything though, Tommy was jealous that Steve had scored a girl like you, kind and soft and sweet, when he had trouble getting Carol to stay over longer than the time it took to drain a bottle of stolen wine. It made him feel envious and insecure, watching the way you kissed Steve in the hallways with rosebud lips and your eyes shone like diamonds under the gentle sun; when was a girl going to look at him like that?

“You coming tonight, Harrington?” He asked from the hood of Steve’s car, his legs dangling onto the asphalt.

“No.” Steve said, chewing on his fingernails. “Sorry man, I’m taking (Y/N) to the drive in.”

“Aww.” Carol preened, a solid supporter of your relationship. You hadn’t known her too well before you started seeing Steve and hadn’t expected to become so close to her, but now she was one of your best friends. Sure she could be a little vapid and a little rude, but she also made you laugh loudly and always helped you get ready for dates with Steve, and you really appreciated the way she let you into the inner circle. “That’s so sweet. You guys are too cute.”

Tommy ignored her. He could already feel himself boiling over.

“Cmon Harrington, it’s one night. It’s tradition.”

“No it isn’t.”

He exhaled loudly. “Well it should be.”

“I’m good, man. And besides, we’re still going to see the Bulls play on Saturday, right?”

“I guess.”

Silence settled around them like cigarette ash. Tommy, growing more irate by the second, toyed with the collar of his shirt and curled and uncurled his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure why he was pissed - as Steve’s best friend he should have been pleased with how love struck and happy he was, and it wasn’t as though he never saw Steve anymore, or that you had split up the group or anything - but he was still annoyed, and that’s why he said it.

“God, I hope she’s a better fuck than she looks. I mean, she must be if she’s got you this whipped.”

It took a moment for Steve to process what he had said, swallowing his friends words like they were barbed wire, his throat filling with blood.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Just what everybody else is thinking.” It wasn’t what everybody thought, but Tommy thrived off of mob mentality, and the small crowd watching in the parking lot was enough to spike his adrenaline.

“Tommy.” Carol warned, her voice thick and heavy, eyeing him from over the roof of the car.

“What did you say about her?” Steve asked, his face turning crimson, the shade matching the colour coating his pupils.

Tommy didn’t hold back, his hands firmly grasping his shovel, ready to dig himself deeper. “Jesus. Look at you! Look what she’s turned you into. She’s a bitch, and so are you.” He gestured wildly with his hands, the severity of what he had said was slowly sinking in, but he was stupid enough to stand by it for the time being.

Steve was livid. His body rattling like he had been struck by lightning. He knew he wasn’t some fucking white knight who had to defend your honour, but there was no way in hell he was going to let some fucking prick about you like that.

“And…you know what? The both of you can - ”

“Fuck you.” Steve brought his fingers to a fist and clocked him right in the nose, a sickening thwack echoing around the school. Tommy recoiled backwards, almost falling through the windshield. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, and his face was contorted with both pain and disbelief.

“What the fuck man?” Tommy seethed, spitting out a wad of blood and lunging at Steve, managing to grab him by his collar and slam him onto the asphalt, their jeans ripping across the gravel.

The two of them rolled around, a deadly mix of closed knuckles and crisp white sneakers. A small crowd had gathered around the two of them, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and rich with stories to be shared around the party that night. They both managed to get a couple good hits in, Steve just managing to get the upper hand before the school janitor started calling in for backup.

You had just left World Civ, your textbooks still cradled in your arms and your best friend laughing in your ear as you made your way out of the school and towards the parking lot.

“Yeah, I swear! She…” Your best friends voice trailed off as she noticed a blur of movement in the distance, her ears picking up like a bloodhounds. “Oh my God. I wonder what’s going on.”

You looked up shrugging your shoulders, expecting to see some of the wrestling team or soccer players roughhousing like they usually did, but your blood turned cold when your eyes focused fully and you caught sight of that damn perfect hair.

“Holy shit. Steve!”

If only your phys ed teacher could have witnessed the speed you ran across the car park; dust picking up with your shoes as you bolted towards your boyfriend. You managed to break through the inner circle crowding around them, the teenagers egging on Tommy and Steve as they scrambled towards one another, the sound of elbows and knees and fingernails clashing all around you.

“Hey. Hey! That’s enough!”

Poor Mr Springer tried his best to separate the two of them, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist and trying to tear them apart as they continued scrapping like junkyard dogs.

Your mouth was agape as a couple of boys helped break the two of them up, your eyes widening at the scarlet red blood staining the ground and the deep purple bruises already starting to show. You managed to catch Steve’s line of sight, his eyes widening at the sight of you, his face starting to swell.

“Steve? What the fuck!”

“Oh! Hey, babe? How did your pop quiz go?” He asked, throwing you a dazzling smile as though everything was right in the world.

Despite everything, you bit back a laugh, kneeling down to wrap your hands around him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” You said, cradling the now puffy side of his face, a quarter sized apricot indent growing under his eye.

He winked at you as he was pulled away and dragged to the principal. He knew he was in for a months worth of Saturday detentions, but he couldn’t care less. He avoided the death glare his former best friend was giving him, licking the blood pooling across his split lip.

If he had to chose between you or Tommy, or choose between nights in with you or nights out with the rest of the seniors - hell, if he had to choose between basketball and you, it would be you, every time.

Point blank, period.

———————————————————-

There was a chill in the air, swallowing the both of you whole. Steve could feel his jeans dampening, your tears cascading down your face and onto his denim. He could feel eyes on the back of neck, and knew without turning around that Dustin and the rest of the kids were watching from the kitchen window, waiting to jump out and rescue you both if something crawled out from the bushes.

He didn’t have much time left. Soon he would have to bring you back inside, away from the vulnerability of the night and into the embrace of those you had grown so close to. He thinks back with a grimace, to the fight you had over your new routine.

Bob and Joyce dating came as a shock to everyone involved, especially Steve. Not so much that Bob had found companionship with the pretty single mother, but more so that it meant you were spending more time at their house - with Jonathon.

He wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

No matter how many times you rolled your eyes and teased him - he wasn’t jealous.

He just didn’t like the idea of you sat next to him at movie nights, laughing with him during family board games, eating breakfast in the chair beside him, driving to school together and singing along to the stupid obscure bands that Jonathon liked.

Ok maybe he was a little jealous. Sue him.

He’d spent the night at your place, under the guise of helping you with your calculus homework, even though you had a higher grade than him, and he watched with sleepy eyes as you rummaged around your desk in the morning.

“What?” He mumbled under the slowly rising sun, half of his face still buried in your pillow. “What? Where? Where are you going?”

You rifled through your handbag and examined the contents, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Bob’s taking everyone out for lunch - well it should have been breakfast but someone - ” you emphasised with a playful glare, “Is making me late.”

“Whose going?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“You know. Me, Joyce, Jon and Will.”

Jon.

“You didn’t tell me Jonathon was going.” He’s not sure if it’s true. He remembers fragments of you telling him your plans for the weekend, but he also remembers your words shattering before they reached his brain, because of that little strappy top you were wearing and the blackberry colour of your lipstick.

“What?” You asked distractedly, untangling your headphones from your Walkman. “I did.”

“No.” He clicked his jaw, a sign of his annoyance. “You just said Bob was taking you out.”

“With everyone - everyone includes Jonathon.”

“Right.” He’s pissed. His anger isn’t directed at you, more so the floppy haired teenager you’ll be sharing pancakes with, even though it’s not exactly his fault either. “Since when did you guys become The Brady Brunch?”

You let out a dry laugh, oblivious to the fact your boyfriend was getting more agitated by the second.

Did you really have to wear that skirt? He thought. Why did it have to be the short little denim one covered in cherries that made you look so damn good?

“You know how much Joyce loves her kids, Bob just wants to make an effort.”

“Yeah but why do you have to go?”

You shrugged, applying a swipe of lipgloss and tightening your cardigan in an effort to hide the hickeys blossoming under your collarbones. “He invited me, said it’s a family thing.”

“It’s not as though you’re really family though is it?”

He regretted it the moment the syllables left his mouth, but he was too wound up to think before he spoke. He cringed at the way you lost his gaze in the mirror, really fucking hating himself when he saw the crimson blush rise from your throat and onto your cheeks, and the sheen coating your eyes.

“I should go.”

You didn’t hesitate, grabbing your belongings and darting down the stairs. Family had always been a sore subject for you, and he loathed himself for striking you in the one place that it really fucking hurt.

“Wait.. Baby I -” He chased after you, but you were too fast. He wished that you would stay and argue with him, he’d let you scream and yell and shout at him, because he deserved it and he wanted to let you know he was sorry for being a prick, but you were already out of the door.

“Just up when you leave.” Were the last things you said, disappearing into your car.

He apologised with your favourite chocolates and red roses and an attempt to make you dinner. You couldn’t stay upset with him and his sheepish grin even when half of your kitchen was covered in tomato sauce and your moms pan was coated in burnt pasta.

The boy could screw up, but he always knew how to make up for it.

He trusted you, and loved you, and apologised for - in your words, ‘being a class A jackass’ - and even put away his pride long enough to tell you that, Ok, fine, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous of Jonathon and the bond growing between you.

That night as you curled up on your living room floor amongst an abundance of pillows and crocheted throws, you reassured him that you were in love with him and only him, even when he drove you up the wall. He fell asleep a little easier that night, his girl happy and safe in his arms, your words calming the storm that was once brewing in his mind.

…And maybe Jonathon wasn’t that bad.

———————————————————-

The light of the moon was harsh, almost like the street lamps that flickered in the distance. Steve could feel you moving underneath him, and his palms were starting to dampen, the reality of the evening finally sinking in.

Bob was dead.

As though the same thought had passed through you, you spoke, your voice strained and quiet. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know.”

Your voice cracked like thin ice. “He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t… He.” You choked on your words, and Steve pulled you into him firmly, as if to stop you from falling apart.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You sniffled, a sob tearing through your lungs and clawing through your throat, and you tried desperately to not think about your poor uncles lifeless body. “What am I going to do without him?”

You weren’t looking for an answer, but Steve gave you one.

“It’ll be me and you, it’ll be us. Forever.”

His future was uncertain. He was under a mountain of pressure from his teachers and coaches and guidance counsellors to get his head down and decide about college and scholarships and what he was going to do with his life.

He even took one of those quizzes that was supposed to help him figure his shit out, but when he sat there, pencil in hand and he read the words - where do you see yourself in five years? The only thing he could think of, was you.

He thought of you, so smart and pretty, your future just as undecided as his, but still by his side. He could see road trips and night drives and long distance calls, he could see morning laughter and monumental arguments and make ups, in the distance he could even see a house with a white picket fence and a big dog and a few kids who looked like a mixture of the both of you.

It seemed so simple. So much more simple than applying for college or an internship, because he knew that whatever he did, he wanted it with you.

And then this crazy fucking year happened, and things weren’t so simple anymore. Soon he was best friends with a bunch of pre teens and fighting off big scary fucking monsters and Billy Hargrove. Soon his small world of basketball and strawberry milkshakes and tongue kisses was filled with danger, and he needed to keep you safe.

“I miss him.”

“I know.” He says honestly. “I miss him too.”

He remembered the last conversation he had with Bob. It was before they found Hopper underground, and Bob was getting ready to leave and see Joyce and Will. You were in your room, finishing off the last of your homework, and Steve was heading downstairs to finish off the last of the pizza. He had just grabbed a Coke and a slice of pepperoni, when he saw Bob rummaging through the cupboard in the hall.

“Hey,” Steve said, waving the hand with the soda in it. “I heard about Will. Is he alright?”

Bob gave a kind nod. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m not sure. I’m uh - I’m looking for my old board games for him to play with.”

Steve smiled, because that was exactly the thing Bob would do. “Well, give him my best.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Steve spun his heel to rejoin you upstairs, taking a big bite of melted cheese as he walked, before Bob spoke aloud once again.

“There’s something strange going on in this town.”

Steve remembered the year before, standing in Jonathan’s living room, twinkling Christmas lights draped on the wall and a baseball bat in his hands. He remembered Barb and Will, and the body from the quarry.

“Yeah.”

Bob exhaled, moving so that he was standing face to face with the teenager. “You make sure nothing happens to her, alright? You know she’s - you know she’s my little girl.”

Steve straightened, his voice solid. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

“I know. You’re a good guy, Harrington.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees, but he knows that for you, he will be.

“Take care of her.”

“Always.”

And they had partied ways: Steve upstairs, where he pulled you into his arms and made you laugh as he planted wet kisses on your face. And Bob to the Byers house to find a map spanning the length of the walls, and then the hospital, and then ultimately, to his death.

———————————————————-

The dark felt much more menacing now, shadows moving like long fingernails and jagged claws around you. He knew that he had to get you inside. He knew that the others would be making plans and setting traps and he knew how much safer you would be there. His heart was shattered after the small sobs leaving your body, your chest deflating like a burst balloon. He also knew that the best people to comfort you would be inside, Joyce with her motherly love, Dustin with his sweet, silly nature, and even Jonathon who truly loved you like a sibling.

“Cmon, lets get you inside.”

He wrapped his hands around you and helped lift you up, steadying you as you swayed on shaky legs. He cradled you into him, feeling the warmth of your breath and tears against his throat, and he inhaled, preparing himself and readying himself, telling him to be strong, for you.

He wrapped a free hand around the door handle, waiting to twist. He took one final look at the menacing bushes and trees surrounding you both, listening for a rustle from the branches.

He doesn’t know what will happen next. But he does know, that whatever it is, you’ll face it, together.

[tumblunni]

AND THATS JUST HOW IT ENDS

Seriously it just stops right after the medal vanishes??

WHERE IS EVEN THE JOKE

WHAT IS MEANT TO BE THE PUNCHLINE

How was this meant to leave you laughing instead of extremely concerned about this poor man...

Doo doot do, lets show a man's journey of personal growth and then in the last five seconds bitchslap it out of his hands and the entire episode was pointless

Was the entire point of the episode for this meanspirited awful punchline?

Did they really waste a whole bunch of worldbuilding, backstory, really appealing new yokai designs and surprise sympatheticness for an otherwise underutilized character JUST for the joke that he sucks and then dies?

Why are you like this, anime.

Seriously this was so good right up until the end, i cant believe i thought that the point was to be heartwarmed and sympathetic to him when apparantly it was meant to be funny. You cpuld have just ended the episode literally 1 minute earlier and had a fully complete infinately better great chunk of character development with a sweet ending that makes you love this guy and get excited to see him again in the future. But nah he cant even get THAT as a consolation prize, gotta make it clear that on top of all the other torment he even loses his medal and nate will absolutely never summon him again in any future episodes. Also apparantly he blinks out of existance and dies.

Comedy! We at yokai watch anime corp totally understand the definition of this word!

I just really hate how the anime is so much about assholes being assholes with no consequence, everybody hating each other, innocent people getting screwed over and nothing ever mattering at all. Oh and also the weirdly high amount of way-too-explicit sex jokes and graphic death scenes??? Anyone remember the Robanyan Gets Bdsm Pegged While Making Orgasm Noises episode, or Watch A Man Put His Fist Through A Yokai's Head As It Gasps Desperately To Breathe In A Really Overanimated Way And Then He Eats It Alive As It Screams? Yknow, for kids!

I just really, really prefer the games.

Im like personally pissed off that these great ideas were wasted here and will probably never get to appear in game canon where they'd actually get played for legit emotion instead.

Yokai Watch The Game: 100% The Same Amount Of Jokes, 0% Of The Horrible, Actually Goddamn Funny, With Actual Decent Content As Well!

Yokai Watch The Game: We Dont Point At Clinically Depressed People And Laugh! (Seriously This Is Like The Bare Minimum Requirement)

Yokai Watch The Game: Not An Asshole To Its Own Damn Characters

Man now im actually glad Dr Maddiman and all the other more plot important characters never got an anime episode. I bet they'd show this poor dude dying alone in a basement crying over his lost wife and son and then play a laugh track over it.

Lets all just look at this sad vampire dude being socially confident and reuniting with his buddy and pretend this is how it ended

REMEMBER HIM AT HIS BRIGHTEST....

[booabug]

chameleon liveblog

THE RETURN OF CRYPTID MARINETTE

wait whats thte hamsters name

WHATS THE HAMSTERS NAME

lmao whenever any of my teachers had to change one (1) seat my entire class would go into chaos too

wait is that simon and garfunkel i hear? looking for places only they would know........ LILA LIE LILA LILA LILA LIE

LILA LIE

LILA LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE LIEeeee

omg adrien's so uncomfortable get out of the boy's space :(

im mad

IM MAD

can u not be emotionally manipulative + touch the boy's shoulder all weird? thx

this sucks im mad

im mad

i hate this

lmao fuck off akuma

away with you, I dismiss you from Pride Rock my toilet

jeez how twisted up inside has she gotten that she actively welcomes akuma? :(

LMAO I CAN SENSE THE FICS A-COMING

WAKE HIM UP (WAKE HIM UP INSIDE)

WHAT THE FUCK LEAVE NINO ALONE this suCKS im MAD

frolicking baseball cap adrien reminds me so much of jacakdy butterfly gabe lmao

was... was just... no one interested in teen model adrien agreste having a fistfight with ladybug under the eiffel tower or... ?

smooch him plagg

use ur TWU WUV

that kid's lying fistfight him

TIME FOR MORE FICS

oh hecke chamaleon gets cataclysm too

LMAO I GOTTA SCREENSHOT THIS

yeah clam up ya poozer

FRIENDS NOT ANEMONE FHJGDSKJJFFKK

oh an oyster. SHUCKS, I got that wrong....

lmao nino omg

i love the idea that he's just been huddled up being consoled by alya this entire time

mmhmm made sure of that didnt u gabe jfc im still not over finding out he and nathalie have been keeping her tormented all this time

bruh if earplugs could cancel out tinnitus my life would be so much easier

AS LONG AS YOU AND I KNOW THE TRUTH HNNNGHhhhhh im weak its alright sleep me its okay if its like this

just hit me with that ladynoir partnership in adrinette form

I actually went AAGH out loud over that look now they hit me with a hecking ladrien look and im sOFT

WHAT IS THE HAMSTER'S NAME

omg DJWiFi winks #blessed

YES BROMANCE WINS IN THE END

lmao the seating chaos

um no? you can't kagami her? this isn't how that works

GOOD SHIT

GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE MARINETTE GOOD SHIT that’s how we do it baby

[impertfectedchoices]

I Promise - PT.3

Prompt: In a Heartbeat Ship: James X MC POV: (Point of View): James Word Count: 1,653 Tags:

@hhiggs | @destinio1 | @marryjanewaston

Artist Comment: Holaaaaa, So, pardon the, AGAIN, long break. Life’s been kicking my WHO-LE existence 😭.

This one, unintentionally, is going to be a really emotional part. This wasn’t my original plan, but it just… kind of happened. The past two months have been pretty hectic, and I’m really trying my best, But when you go through bs, it seems like you’re alone. A quote I’m gonna be using in this pretty much sums up what I’m going through. And I feel like it fits in this fic too well. So, I hope this comes across well. While writing this part, I actually cried, like, semi-broke down 😭. This hits a real personal note to me, and I hope you guys understand it. So, FAIR WARNING! I’m trying my best to not look at the situation, but how I’m going to get out of it. And your “now” won’t be your “future.” Anyone can come out of a crappy situation and thrive. You just gotta go through the storm. And all that sappy stuff, lel. 💕

PS, This, as well, was on a whim. No planning, drafting, or prethinking about plot before I write…. just gonna try to spot all the spelling errors this time 😂

le’Enjoy!

•

8:01pm

It’s feeling like elephants are sitting on my chest, since getting back to the car. I’ve never, necessarily, had problems with my breathing being under control. But sitting here; watching the car lights from main road dance across my windshield, I find that I’m constantly reminding myself to take breaths. The more I force myself, it seems, my breathing gets more shallow. I’m repeatedly feeling on the inside, each attempt to grasp at anything stable. I’ve always been able to zone out, and let my mind center on my sane points. But, as of recent, there’s nothing to feel. Numbness has replaced any form of joy to my life, leaving me a drained form of myself.

From the library, past… past MC’s house, to the highway that took me a few miles away from Hartfeld.

Familiar roads allowed for the holes to appear slowly into the wall I temporarily built up, within a 30 minute time span. I parked, went inside and felt the anxiety creep its way back in. My mind tried to put itself back together, but seemed conflicted with the storm’s leftover mess that wasn’t letting up. Every time I attempted to collect my emotions, regain what stability I believed consumed my existence, something happens to throw my progress out the window to clean, discard, and replace. One fall after the next.

My hands were still, wrapped around the wheel. Never leaves, but tightens every so often. I could feel myself tense up, veins more visible, and the white peaking through from the grip I’d had. I needed to focus on something, Anything.

There’s like… maybe over 30 cars in the parking lot.

40?

Just turned red…

Counted off 5 cars turning right at the light.

…now 6,

7?

Yea, 7.

Turned green.

White… Toyota

Um, think it’s a Camry.

The left side’s light always seems to last lo-

• knock, knock •

Now, just realizing the knocking happening next to me, I’d subconsciously whipped away any traces of emotion left on my face to greet who it’d been. To my surprise, I was greeted back with a less then stable face bundled up in her jacket. Unlocking the door, Abbie walked to the passengers side. I opened the door for her, as she climbed in, with semi-urgency. “W-wow, it’s a lot colder than I thought I’d be today.” She said with a bit of a stuttery smile. It had been getting colder since fall started creeping in, but the temperature rarely came to mind, with everything else taking up room. I tried my best to disguise any strain that I’d been feeling earlier, to save face. “Yeah, falls been catching up on us.” mentioning with a halfhearted smile. As I began fiddling with the knobs; turning switches to adjust the heat, she cleared her throat before she began breaking the silence again, “James,”

Looking back up, her face, almost immediately tensed up. Actually looking at her, you could tell she’d been worn out. She looked as if she’d been crying, and her eyes grew puffier the more seconds passed by. Abbie seemed very resilient at times. But in this moment; just like everyone else, I was stunned to see her so weakened. “Abbie. MC’s going to be oka-“ “Don’t lie,” The cracking in her voice was low, but audible enough to ring throughout my head. “James, ?Kaitlyn and Zack told me everything. I went to meet up with everyone, got inside and… and everyone was just, falling apart. Chis pulled Tyler to the side. And I’ve, I’ve never seen him look so broken. Zach couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and Kaitlyn could barely get enough words out without breaking down mid sentence…” The more she spoke, the more the reality of the situation sunk back into me. “…They told me you left, and that’s not like you. So I had to find you.” She’d been turned directly to me, eyes swelling. Looking down at my steering wheel, my hands at some point fell back into position. Feeling myself tense up, still forcing myself to control my breathing enough to speak, “I just, it was hard for me to stay in there for much lon-“

“JAMES, THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” Wide-eyed, My eyes darted back up to her. Her face had gotten a hint redder than normal, and her expression was drenched with frustration, annoyance, worry, and concern. She had been trying to do what everyone felt was impossible; break through the walls I built up when placed in these circumstances. I understood what she was trying to get accomplished, but of all moments, now wasn’t the time. “Abbie,” Attempting to bite back any amount of sternness in my voices, I continued, “… I know how your feeling right now, this isn’t easy on me either. But the last thing we need to be doing is losing it on each other.” It seemed like everything I was saying, though, was just fueling the fire. “What an excuse. So is this your way of ‘solving the situation?’ Running off and hiding in your car?” “No, but staying in there isn’t going to make it any better.” “So, what is staying locked up in here is proving? All I see is someone running away from their problems!”

I could feel every ounce of me radiate irritation. It was getting harder to swallow it. “So do you truly believe I don’t care about MC? Really?” “If you did, you’d be in that room waiting for her! You already took her for granted before, and to think I thought better of you James. I had high hopes, but she’s given you way too many chances for you to get your act together… and you just SIT HERE! You may have had a lot on you plate, but she’s literally given every chance to fix her schedule to make time for you. And all she can get is a few texts, Time you give her for newspaper club meetings? You literally stand her up to work on some dumb paper when you knew she’d been sick. And no apology? Nothing?”

I’d still been staring at the steering wheel as she spoke. The more she yelled, the tighter my grip had gotten. What she didn’t understand was that this was literally killing every inch of my being inside. It felt like I was falling in this hole; ever since Vasquez passed, plummeting. Im just ready to hit the bottom, look at the distance I have to climb, and start climbing, but there isn’t a bottom. I just keep falling. It never ends. This constant torment doesn’t seem to have an end. And I just want it to be over. Everything emotion warped around in my head together; anger, fustration, sadness, guilt, irritability, brokenhearted-ness, fear, heartache, pain. It all reeked in my body, consuming me as all I could hear in my head was yelling. Abbie’s voice faded out, and all I could here was my subconscious talking: It’s your fault, you should’ve been there, you did this, where were you, she needed you, you weren’t there, your no good for her, she’s wasting her time, your taking her for granted, she deserves better, let her go…

“God James, I would thought you’d learn better from everything you put her through. Even with Vasq-“

BEEEEEEEEP!

“BE QUIET!!!!!”

I slammed my fist into the wheel instinctively. I needed the voices to stop, the agony to stop, I just needed to be able to hear thoughts that were my own. She jumped, looking shocked towards me. She didn’t expect such a response from me.

“Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, it’s not true… it’s not true. I care… I care, I swear.” I’d kept repeating this to myself, extensively tight clutch on the steering wheel, hunched over it.

“I care, I swear I care about her… I love her so much, God. Please, make her okay, i swear I’ll do better I care I care I care She means the world to me she does I need her”

I kept repeating it, over and over again. I needed what I believed to overpower what was going on in my head. But I didn’t have the strength to keep up the facade. They were right, it was my fault. She’s been so stressed because of me. I didn’t deserve her, I should have been a better partner, a better friend, a better boyfriend… I didn’t notice Abbie grab me from my stance and held me. She had been the one consoling me this time around. The hold I had over my emotions just gave out. It felt as if me as a person broke, shattered for the first time, as I was left to face my emotions, instead of disguise them.

“I’m so sorry, MC. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sor-ry I’m so- I’m so-rryyyy.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Dropping my face into my hands, my heart wrenched and I dissolved in myself. Shaking, all I could do was replay what she’d told me, making my soul call out for her more;

”I’m fine James, it’s just a small cold. Nothing I… *sniff* can’t handle!”

”I’ll be okay James, I promise.”

”Geez, so mushy.”

”… but I love you too, my darling.”

•LAST •NEXT

[hauntinghilarity]

SLRP | Storyteller Lore: Lickyface

I was a storyteller in a number of roleplay sims. One of the documents I am proud of is the concept I wrote up for my cosmic deity/entity (aka lovecraft inspired boogun). Due to some rl strangeness, I couldn’t complete my plan. SO instead, I saved it! 

The picture below depicts one of the many looks I made for Lickyface in Second Life using a bunch of parts. 

    The following document was written ic and ooc by Doc Boots (jingy.blinker). For any further questions, please do not be afraid to IM or leave a notecard for the freaky flower. He will do his damnedest to get back to you post haste.

    The parchment itself, made of an unidentified leather, holds his usual formal and delicate script. The more he jots down, however, the more tense and unsettled he seems to become, his lines becoming jagged and uneasy. As if his hand had been shaking.

Name: Given the creature's multiple mouths, as well cosmic heritage, the names written always seem illegible. I have since realized that the spelling and handwriting is correct, it is simply impossible for me to say it. I do not know how to read these runes nor how to fabricate the vocal noises the creature is said to make.

Designation: The Beast Once Imprisoned Beneath the Tree, Lickyface, The Malevolent Maw

Age: Impossible to calculate given the current information. There is a possibility it is older than the planet itself. Especially as it must have taken it quite a while to drift onto the planet.

*~*~*Preface*~*~*

    Many people are under the assumption that the path of the light is the one true path. The one where karma will reward you and the masses will appreciate you. I am sorry to be the one to inform you that the nature of the universe is far less clear than that. If it is any consolation, it isn’t entirely black either. Just mostly. A dark gray, really.

    For matter to be able to spread through the universe, mingle, and even become far more complex types of matter there needs to be a most catastrophic explosion. One that starts in the heart of a powerful star, before tearing its solar system apart. Considered one of the most terrifying events in the universe, there is an upside. This explosion can leave another, if not the most, terrifying object in the universe, a Black Hole. While often attributed to merely consuming all around it, that is only true up to a point. Reaching far beyond its mouth but still within its reach, a black hole swirls all the remnants of its own explosions and others, be it from those too small to create a black hole, creating multiple, or creating enough close to one enough that they fuse into a much larger black hole.

    As the obliterated star systems coalesce, stirred by the vortex surrounding the black hole, stars gain a higher likelihood to be born. Even better, more unique planets are created, and more unique forms of life can be created. We can see this cycle in our own realm, on our own planet, too. My usual example being that a deer will eat grass, causing the grass to release an odor that can alert a nearby predator, that will kill the deer. The remains of the deer, be it merely blood splattered or the devoured carcass, will help the grass regrow the damage the herbivore caused. Allowing another to much on its juicy leaves, repeating the process. Of course, races follow this same aspect. Angels and demons, Humans and Orcs.

​

    I preface my explanation of this beast explaining this so you might understand its drive. It is not motive, it is an instinct that gives this creature an urge to destroy. For it is not from our realm. Not even from our solar system. It is possibly from far beyond our very galaxy. Regardless of where it came from, it crashed onto our planet relatively early in the development of intelligent life. Just as humanity began to wonder and grow curious, this beast appeared like a plague. It is theorized this is what catches its attention.

​

*~*~*LEGEND*~*~*

​

    What happens on other worlds is mere speculation. Attempts for a superstitious and war-torn world to explain the beast that tormented them, that seemed to watch them from the deepest darkness and whisper from the corners of their mind.

​

    For, just like the entropy of the natural world, it seems sentient life needs a little darkness and madness to stir the pot of innovation. As the shamans proposed, the growth of envy and hatred lit a fire in the hearts and souls of humanity like no other. The bitter words the Malevolent peppered the population with, at first, was at it seemed interested in.

​

    It wasn’t pleased with just this. Whether as the Chessmaster or merely another rusted gear in a machine being busted by another party, Lickyface would make certain it stayed amuse. It played smart at first, pushing events from the sidelines content to watch the factions it pitted against each other tear each other limb from limb. Depression and greed fueled it. Souls that became too entranced by the beast’s growing charisma soon found their being beings twisted by darkness, and when they finally fall to pay for their crimes they’d find themselves consumed and added to the growing collection of the broken, the twisted, and the psychotic that fueled its power.

​

    Then, just as the rest of humanity learned of it, Lickyface tasted madness. A sensation it held as naturally as a human holds oxygen. It leapt on the chance to experiment with the broken minds it had already begun to cultivate. From here, the journals I gather my information from becomes a horrid, garbled mess. Blood, various substances, and what I can only hope is dirt coat most of the pages at this stage of the story. This period of the creature’s reign leftmost who encountered it into shells of their former selves. The journals never indicate they are ever returned to a state of sanity.

​

    Its attempt to be kept in the dark, those who saw it far too gone into madness for any to believe the pictures were drawn or details given. Luckily, there were a few who would listen to such crazy back then. The details, of course, are quite muddy around this time. It was decided that it had to be contained and it is made very clear that the toll on the army facing is was high. As the body count rose it became clear killing the beast was not an option. So an idea was finally formed, and with only the hundred greatest left in the faction brave enough to take on the job, they were able to pool their resources, skills, and magic together to incapacitate the creature long enough for it to be imprisoned in endless, unforgiving light. This was not without its cost, the creature claiming countless chivalrous characters in its rampage to stay free.  

​

    As their numbers began to draw closer to the single digits, the remaining magic users thought quickly and gathered their energy to call towards the Astral body of the Tree of Life. A massive trunk rooted the beast into place as it finished off the last of the warriors left to keep its focus. The roots entangled around it, and the pure mixture of arcane, divine, and natural energy was cultivated by the roots to make certain the best could never escape. Trapped with the countless souls it had captured, it was left to rot in the core of the Earth.

​

    So confident in this plan, even if it cost all but a few of the island’s remaining veterans, was the island that as the millennia passed, the tale of the Malevolent Maw was lost to time. For Lickyface had long since left its mark. The darker side of humanity had been cultivated by it, after all. Confidence warped into confusion, which warped into doubt at its very existence. Soon, the memory of the Hundred Martyrs was devoured by rage and lost to the ramblings of a few dozen madmen’s books.

​

*~*~*WHERE THIS LEAVES US*~*~*

​

    For those of you who have not heard my thoughts on the matter, I apologize for what you are about to learn. It will prove to you how far humanity has fallen, and how deep the creature has dug its tongue into our minds. War after war left the races itching. A war was fought, and the Orcs won. Their prize? The Tree of Life, it seems. They chopped it down, and with every chop, The Malevolent Maw stirred. Dust and ash kicked up by the weakened and tormented beast.

​

    To add insult to injury, and fuel the beast as the blasphemous act was made all the more horrid, the tree was fashioned into planks and turned into cabins. The physical embodiment of the penultimate nature god, depending on your beliefs and if Gaia is particularly chatty, to at least de trees. Couldn’t even keep their houses protected, because the cabins of life burned down. I am sure all this just made it easier for the beast to gather power and find a way out of the rotting roots.

​

    There was time then. The Eldritch and I..Most I tried to warn this city. I did everything in my power, even rushed through these damned journals. I am afraid, to those of you who have gotten this far, that is maybe far too late for Vrek’mar. I hear tales of people working to regrow the Tree. That’s marvelous. It still won’t change anything. The roots are withered by now, months have passed since that fateful day. When the ash covered the sky, it was testing the waters. Fighting at the weakening roots.

​

    I do not know where it is now. If it is still far beneath us, regaining its power so it might rise again. I do know that it is angry. Not for its prison being destroyed, it will be delighted about that. The Orcs might even get a pass. It’d just figure, wouldn’t it? It was weakened at this time. Such a long period would have left its body in a fragile state. We could have done something then. You fucks could have listened to me then.

​

    There was time then. We could have bolstered the roots, pumped enough energy to hold it. I am no god. I did not have the ability to do it on my own. Not even a small group. This required a small amount of political grace and everyone getting along, but of course, the meat bodies only want to fight.

      It has been allowed time to escape. It is surely angry. I can not even imagine the maddening boredom being locked in such a cramped, assumedly, spot for millennia. It is not that which causes my vines to with and my host-body to shake. That creature is surely bored, and when it escapes, its rage will fuel its search for 'entertainment'. Whatever it has been plotting for millennia, playing with its own little set of heroes and psychotics alike repeatedly... That is what terrifies me. From what my journals indicate, it might even seek to claim itself king. Not for any democratic purposes, but because it finds crowns amusing, especially when it is worn on the head of a tyrant.

​

    So that leaves us here. The beast practically inches below our feet, and we are naked in the breeze. I write this... Mostly to bitch, really. So, to whoever reads this, should you be feeling distraught, broken, and on the brink of madness like your peers, and the world split like a gaping maw... Don’t blame me.

​

    Not that such blatant disrespect for common sense deserved such, but I tried countless times. You dug this grave, humanity, I am just sorry I had to go down with you.

​

Bitterly,

      Doc Boots

*~*~*Known Tricks(Events/Storyline Plots)*~*~*

Punishing Prosopopeia -

    The Malevolent Maw has a delight in spreading despair. It has found the typical routes in doing so are a bit boring. I suppose centuries locked in a prison with the same toys would make the abnormal the only option not milked dry.

    When it picks its target, be it a lone soul or an entire building, it will go one of two routes. Should it pick the form, it will begin to enchant items surrounding the person. These items will grow the same twisted maw as their master, with the countless eye of its stolen souls staring out in hopes they might be freed, but their only use is to fuel the horrid creatures with eyes peeking from every shadow they cast or house. Its tongue would drip oil and lash about. Each item will take a different route in their goal, but they will pick apart the mind of their target, searching for every little nerve that might push them into a fit. Through my best attempts to translate the horrific chicken scratch that I pulled these accounts from, I gathered countless mentions of different items speaking venom. A pepper shaker supposed using their failed career to loosen them up, while the cauldron berated them for the quality of their cooking, while the door took advantage of their recently deceased parents to drill in the fact they hadn’t spent enough love and care with them.

    More distressingly, the accounts state that until Lickyface lost interest, this effect would follow them no matter where they went. Should it target a specific building, every item will take on this effect and bully whoever they set their sights on. While Lickyface has been noted to use this same ability in offensive moves, this seems merely to be a last resort should it be attacked while using this talent.

​

Chuckling Chasm -

    The creature’s presence often is heralded by the ground splitting open in a large chasm. Rocks form themselves into mock teeth while oil bubbles up to fill the newly formed gash. A tongue made from the oil erupted from this maw, beginning to lash about, presumably to attempt to drag and drown any foolish enough to get within striking distance.

    There are even accounts of it forcing the Earth to move, making the fissures ‘talk’. While some of these journals question the motives behind this, I believe it is merely for its own amusement. Though surely anything drowned in that oil will not be met with a merciful fate. There are no accounts of what happens, though accounts of creatures and minions leaking this oil lead me to assume assimilation.

​

Oil of Condensed Souls -

    Its ‘blood’ and the liquids that drip off of it seems to be a corrupted form of crude oil. At first, I believed this to be due to it being contained in the core. I have since, upon reading this is a recent development, come to believe that instead, this is the effect of having countless souls trapped within a twisted and wretched body that was then plunged into the pressure of the center of the Earth. It has lead to, least how we perceive it, a substance created from organic matter and souls being endlessly compressed in an already confined area, in the bubbling pit the beast had become while in the depths.

    This liquid hold a number of strange properties, all dependant on what Lickyface itself wants to do with it. I have yet to fully understand whether this is something Lickyface has since ‘evolved’ to convert a creature into itself, or if, like the souls themselves, Lickyface is just as much this substance was the darkness he consumed.

    Even when separated from the body, the reflection will leave an unsettling sight. Like looking into a lake, the depths beyond would seem endless with countless eyes of different colors staring back. Some in pain, agony, and suffering while others seemed angry or even delighted. The longer the blood sets, it will eventually begin to grow eyes, with no clear limit on how many will grow beside the surface area. Should the blood spread across a large enough surface, a mouth will form, with the blood-forming into a tendril-like tongue to lash about.

*~*~* Possible Oil Effects *~*~*

​

Winking Warts -

    The creature or its minions can be quite effective at spreading this near limitless source of potential. One of its favorite ways is to expel a large portion of it at someone. Normally in the form of expelling it from the mouth along its stomach. As the oil spreads along the skin, bubbles will quickly form and burst along the skin from which an eye will grow. These can appear anywhere the oil spreads a sizable portion to, and more disturbingly these blinking blemishes seem to be connected to the victim’s system. The victim sees through them and feels any pain to come to them as if they were real eyes. They are also easily infected if ruptured. Strangely, the victims that tracked them all report a number of the eyes seem not to relay signals to the victim. That doesn’t seem to keep from looking around.

​

Practically a Museum of Memories - ( Why I named it this, I will forever wonder)

​

    I do not know how, or why, anyone would ingest it, but my sources have said that doing so will sometimes cause an intensely vivid memory. They say that their nights became sleepless, as when they close their eyes it is as if they open them in a new body. Until they experience the memory the condensed souls desire of them, they repeat the memory until able to fully experience it. This is no easy task. As vivid as these dreams are said to be, many . Especially once the pattern of these dreams being the final moments of the souls that Lickyface had long since consumed. Some retaining their ‘purity’, for lack of a better word, while others had long since become corrupted by madness as the soul finally relented to the beast’s will.

    Some have found ways to cure themselves of the affliction, while others merely power through the dreams. They say they even feel the emotions of the departed. The soul’s mind imposed upon you in the dream, forcing you to sit as a passenger as their final moments play out. As the Malicious Maw disassembles their life before their eyes, pushing them as far into the pits of despair or bitterness as it can before fully consuming them. Some take casualties with them. Regardless, they are given a brief glimpse at the torment the consumed were subject to, before finally being free of the ancient affliction.

[chuddzo]

Got my nintendy sweesh on launch day

On mobile so cant add a cut sorry fam. If I remember I’ll get it when I wake up. But here are my impressions of everything I have so far

I finished the specter knight dlc, it was super good. For anyone who wasn’t satisfied with plague knights in any way, you will prob feel comfy with this one. This being said, it is still harder than normal shovel knight. Breath of the butts… its so good… that game has consumed every fiber of my being. On all levels except physical I am link… if you ever have a chance, play this game. Wii u or switch, it prob doesnt matter all that much.

The console itself is pretty nice, not too heavy. The screen is clean as fucc, 720p is plenty. Not gonna lie tho im not the biggest fan of the control stick layout. Moving the camera in botw can be a bit cumbersome with my smaller than average hands. Sadly I was not able to pick up a pro controller, theyre sold out like everywhere so rip. Im sure this problem wont be a problem when I get one tho. Aside from that gripe, the joycons are a treat to hold. The matted finish makes them feel super nice in the hand, and i got the colored vers. which are super vibrant and personal feeling. To be honest tho if you have a friend with a switch or something I would hold off on getting one. Wait until this christmas or close to it at least, we are gonna have mario, zeldy, mario kart, splatoon, zenoblade 2, and god knows what other sweet indie and 3rd party games.

Other gripes include myself having that left joycon connectivity issue, which is a bummer to deal with. Breath of the weld dips in frames a bit when on tv mode, and that really takes me out of the experience. No netflix or youtube on launch. Comon nintendo get your shit together my fucking left ass cheek has netflix

Here’s some arbitrary numbers that serve basically as a tldr

Botw: 10/10 Specter of Torment: 8.5/10 Joy-Cons: 7/10 Console experience so far: 7.5/10

[susantregre]

You’re Having ANOTHER Baby?

We recently announced to family, friends and co-workers that we are expecting our fourth child.

However, not everyone shared in our joy.

“Don’t you two have anything else to do?”

“Wait, how many kids do you have at home already?”

“Can you guys even afford another?”

“This couldn’t have been planned, right?”

“Wow, a fourth. Did you even want another kid?”

Still, whatever the reasoning, the criticism didn’t catch us completely off-guard. In fact, it was something we had grown accustomed to over the years with each new addition to our family.

The day we announced our first pregnancy, people were shocked. We were too young. We couldn’t afford a baby. We were foolish and should have waited.

We seemed to get a pass on our second child under the guise of it “made sense” to give our daughter a sibling to play with.

We would not be so lucky with our third pregnancy. It seemed that people in my life just couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of three children, two parents, all co-existing in the same home. Is it really that mind-boggling to society?

As long as we were done, then maybe we could reclaim some normalcy to our family and be responsible, stop having children and try to deal with the chaos we already had on our hands.

But, that was not in our plans.

The day after I delivered our third, I was scheduled for a tubal. My husband and I had this responsible plan laid out for months prior to my delivery. But when that day came, I burst into tears and refused to consent to the surgery. The thought that I had even agreed to this plan in the first place made me ill. My husband tried to calm me and reassured me that it was all of the hormones talking and to trust what we had decided months ago. That day, as I held my third baby in my arms, I knew right then and there that there would be a fourth. It’s incredible what our maternal instincts can speak to us if we pay close attention.

And here we are, a year and a half later, a third of the way into our fourth pregnancy. And with that brings the list of questions that are asked by everyone, including ourselves at times.

How could someone possibly want to add a sixth member to their family? A fourth baby in six years; have we gone mad? Our house is already beyond chaotic, our bank account runs extremely low and too close for comfort by the end of each month, and there are days we search for our sanity, and as hard as we search, it can’t be found — anywhere.

  Another couple years of giving my body over. Nine months of carrying this child to term, endless days and nights of discomfort. Another pregnancy of severe sickness, constant fatigue and more migraines than I can count. Once again my hormones will leave me feeling as if I’m ready to jump out of my own skin at times, let alone the up and down roller coaster my poor family has to deal with. And after this newest member of the family enters the world, I will no longer be a home for him or her, but I will be their only source of nutrients to keep them alive.

I have found myself nervous, revisiting the nights I have found myself hallucinating from not getting enough sleep for not only days, weeks or months, but rather years.

I wonder how I’ll survive as some days, I have found myself completely frustrated over numerous things that are completely out of my control, but must just be endured and pushed through. Will this new addition decrease that?

We had a clear vision of light at the end of the tunnel that has now disappeared. Now we are in for a few more years of buying and changing diapers. We’ll have another toddler to eventually potty train. More sleepless nights and long days of consoling this little unknowing angel of the torments of teething.

Patience and time. Two things that seem to drastically decrease in each of my days. My husband and three other children yearn for so much more of me; how could I find room for one more? I remember falling in love so heavily with each child, I was certain with each subsequent pregnancy I would not be able to find enough love to give to another.

There are days I find myself amazed as I handle certain situations with an evolving grace and patience. And then, more often, there are other days I find myself a mad woman, running about at 65 mph. No one is listening to me, whatever I have tried to accomplish just needs to be completed again and I feel as if I’m about to break.

I go through each pregnancy trying to hold tight to my faith. I try to chase away anxiety and fear with patience and prayer and tell myself time and time again that all of my complaining and worrying will do nothing but make matters worse. I read about tragic stories of complications during pregnancies, child birth and the hardships that all too many babies come into this world facing.

There are already times in this pregnancy when I feel run down, sick and overcome with the most intense rush of hormones. I try to make it through some of my days with white knuckles as I hold on for dear life. As tears come down, I ask myself:How in the world will I handle four? So… why another baby?

  Considering all of this, it’s still quite simple for me. I couldn’t imagine having it any other way. I get to experience, for a fourth time, what some women don’t get to experience nearly enough, or rather, never at all.

When I think of bringing another baby into the world, I’m completely overcome with awe that once again, I get to go through one of the most remarkable experiences that one could undergo on this earth: giving birth to a child. It’s the most intense and painful, yet exhilarating, phenomenon one could ever endure.

I get to find consolation in my children when not one other single person in the world understands me. You never know true peace and the best kind of heartache until your toddler wipes away one of your tears, rubs your head and looks deep into your eyes with the most warm, sympathetic, genuine gaze that any human being is capable of giving.

I get to refuel myself in the most incredible way possible after hours of pacing an inconsolable baby. When your baby finally falls fast asleep, laid perfectly against your chest as your hearts are now as one, their most perfect, tiny breath whispers in your ear. Right then and there, you wish you could hold onto this moment for longer than forever. You find yourself so still, not only for fear of waking this angel, but for fear of losing this moment.

Given the choice, would I choose another baby over a larger bank account? I’d pick a baby any day. Would I prefer to call myself rich in regards to growing numbers in my savings, or in terms of my precious, growing family? The latter has been the easiest decision of my life.

There are times where I get a short break to myself or when the kids are finally tucked in bed for the night when the silence can be almost deafening. I certainly appreciate peaceful, sleeping babies, yet I know there will come a time years down the road where our children no longer want to talk to us or be around us, and to be able to prolong that timeline puts me at such a great ease.

God willing, one day, our children will bless us with grandchildren. This leaves me feeling completely fulfilled with the utmost satisfaction. Big family, big holidays, ‘big’ love… it truly may be one of the best gifts you could receive in this lifetime.

Family, no matter what the size, is the most important thing you will ever have in this world. If only society could see babies just as they are: blessings. Oh, the battles and hardships and stressors that lay ahead for me, this I will not deny. But the abundant blessings that these miracles already have and will continue to bring to my life is truly immeasurable.

So here we are, another baby. Another body to clothe. Another tummy to feed. Another 18 years of growing expenses which then turn into car payments, college costs and weddings.

And let me tell you, I could not be happier.

The Real Deal of Parenting

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