#[Mental Groove Records]

[disease]

COIL // OMLAGUS GARFUNGILOOPS [THE GAY MAN’S GUIDE TO SAFER SEX (OST), 1992]

[grrl-operator]

Bleeps, Breaks + Bass - Volume Two

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗔𝗧

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from @mxqdii

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N and the triplets were in Matt's car, Chris and Nick sitting in the back seat while the only girl there sat next to her boyfriend in the passenger seat. The camera used to record the videos on the Sturniolo Triplets channel was positioned in its usual place as it stared back at Y/N.

The car had just entered the Taco Bell drive thru line when Matt reached over and clicked the button to start recording, his right hand going straight for his girlfriend's left thigh while his left handled the steering wheel, stepping on the accelerator carefully until the four's turn arrived.

When the car stopped next to the order window, Y/N stretched a little to her left, getting closer to Matt so that the attendant could hear her clearly, starting to list the order, having previously asked for the boys what they wanted to eat.

Matt gave her a quick look of gratitude, which the girl responded with a sincere smile, knowing that he wasn't feeling up to talking to a stranger that day.

It didn't take long for the order to come out and a few minutes later the four were home again, Nick organizing the tripod that would hold the camera facing the kitchen counter while Matt and Chris sat in their respective places, Chris holding the box with the order.

Y/N chose to sit behind the camera on a pink bean bag chair that she retrieved from her shared room with Matt, sitting comfortably with a tray on her lap, where her order was still unopened, opting to wait for the boys to start eating for her to do it too, this being a custom created by them.

Soon, Nick clicked the record button, and the video intro began. Y/N watched them with a small smile on her face, her hands free having chosen to put her phone away to give her full attention to the triplets' work that day, just as she did every time she participated in some way.

"Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?" Chris asked the first question, his left hand holding the half-open black notebook as his face was turned towards Matt and Nick.

Matt finished swallowing what he had in his mouth, his right hand raised holding the taco in the air.

"Yes." He responded quickly, shrugging. His blue eyes quickly glanced at Y/N, who was trying not to laugh, already knowing the story.

"Teacher's pet." Y/N hummed, Nick's head turning to her quickly, a big smile growing on his face before he joined her on the singing. "If I'm so special, why am I a secret?" They sang together while dancing with their hands, laughing loudly.

Matt brought the taco back to his mouth, taking a bite, ignoring his girlfriend and brother before smiling with his mouth full as he heard his brothers yelling at him to wait.

"Really? Does Y/N know about this?" Chris asked with a smirk, looking sideways at the girl, receiving a nod from both sides.

"Yes, and I don't judge, I also had a crush on a teacher." She said, taking a bite of her own taco.

"Tell me more about that." Nick asked, his eyes going from Matt to Y/N repeatedly.

"You don't want to know." Matt replied with his mouth full, earning chuckles from the two beside him. Nick looked at Y/N, waiting for her to tell Matt's story or her own, despite her not being in the game.

"Don't look at me." She said, raising her arms in surrender, showing to him that she wouldn't say anything.

Nick and Chris rolled their eyes at the lack of information, the older one making a mental note to ask Y/N about it later before clicking on his phone screen, making the countdown start again.

"What's your guilty pleasure song, and when was the last time you listened to it and got into the groove?" Nick asked after telling Matt to finish chewing his last bite, positioning the open notebook with the covers up and holding the neon green highlighter in his right hand, an eager smile on his face.

Y/N let out a laugh muffled by her hand, already knowing what the answer would be since it was technically her fault.

"Hmm... I'll have to check the exact one on my phone." Matt said, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, opening his music app.

"Is there more than one?" Chris asked in a curious tone.

"Maybe. Actually, I don't have a song that I'm exactly embarrassed to listen to, but I do have songs that I prefer to listen to alone or with Y/N." Matt replied, pressing his lips into a thin line trying to contain his smile as he opened the playlist shared with his girlfriend, thanking himself internally for using a privacy film, preventing Nick from seeing the name of the playlist and the songs there.

Matt rolled his thumb across his phone's screen, stopping at a specific song before pressing play, the angelic opening melody of Only Angel by Harry Styles starting to play, Nick and Chris having to lean in and almost cling to Matt to be able to see the name of the music and it's artist.

"Harry Styles?" The oldest asked in a surprised tone, widening his eyes and looking at Y/N, who was smiling big while following the female voice from the beginning and making gestures with her hands as if she was holding an invisible guitar.

Nick quickly paused the song before it went over the allowed time and got copyright on the video.

"She's a devil in between the sheets." Y/N hummed again as she crumpled the paper that previously wrapped her taco, having finished it, receiving disgusted looks from Chris and Nick while Matt smirked.

"It's her fault and her obsession with Harry Styles." Matt said, shrugging as he locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"So Harry Styles is your guilty pleasure, huh?" Chris joked, smirking and raising his eyebrows.

"Don't be weird." Matt pushed his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

"This song is great, don't even start." Y/N argued from behind the camera, huffing.

Chris scoffed and waved his hand as if it wasn't all that, taking the notebook back as Nick clicked the button for the time to start counting again, Matt going back to eating his taco.

"Time's up!" Nick spoke loudly when the countdown hit 0, clicking on his phone screen and watching Matt put the last piece of his second taco on the table, finishing swallowing what he had in his mouth and looking at Chris.

"What are the first three things that you look for in a significant other?" Chris asked as he looked at the open notebook, before underlining the question asked and closing it.

Matt looked past the camera, his eyes meeting Y/N's as a smile spread across his face. He knew all three by heart, hell he knew all three, ten, twenty and all the things he looked for in a significant other, because Y/N had them all.

He learned and discovered everything he wanted in someone he loved with her, after all the girl was and is his first girlfriend and they would already complete four years together. The two grew out of adolescence together and learned important things about themselves together as well.

"First, that she knows how to communicate." Matt began, holding up the index finger of his right hand. "Communication is very important in a relationship, and I had to learn this along with her. As you already know, I have anxiety and this has hold me back many times in my life from saying what I was feeling or what I wanted, generating a greater discomfort in me and future fights. When Y/N and I started dating we were 16 years old, we were still new to everything and as the days and months of dating went by we learned together that the ideal was: we felt uncomfortable about anything? Call your partner and tell them right away, to try to fix that or improve the situation in some way, because we saw that when we kept it inside, it always generated fights in the future. So communication is the key and the first thing."

"They grow up so fast." Nick sniffled playfully, pretending to wipe away an invisible tear.

"That was such a beautiful answer, Matt." Chris said while clapping his hands with an exaggerated expression of pride, leaning over Matt and hugging him from the side. Matt rolled his eyes at the two, a smile spreading across his face as he patted Chris on the back.

Y/N let out a laugh with the brothers, shouting in encouragement to her boyfriend, who let out a low laugh, lowering his head in embarrassment.

"Can I continue?" He asked, covering his face with his hands to hide his flushed cheeks, speaking again when he saw his brothers fall silent and gesture for him to keep going. "The second one isn't as serious as the first, but if she can rock on a man's polo shirt." Matt said, raising the middle finger of his right hand, making a total of two raised.

"Like, wear a man's polo shirt and look cool with it on?" Nick asked, turning to face Matt, who nodded.

"Y/N can wear anything and look good, it's no wonder she goes to college to become a fashion designer and is a fashion influencer on Instagram and Tiktok." Chris commented, passing the black notebook and green highlighter to Nick. Matt nodded as he pointed his hand at Chris with an "exactly" look.

"And she always takes my clothes from my side of the closet and uses them in the outfits she puts together and it always looks really good." Matt added like a pround boyfriend.

Y/N smiled behind the camera, she loved it when the boys spoke highly of her clothes, creating her outfits every day was her biggest hobby.

"And the last one I think is just goals and aspirations of her own. Y/N was always a very dreamy girl and thought about what she wanted to be in life since I met her when we were 14, and not only that, but she went after what she wanted and and always reached them." Matt finished, raising his ring finger before lowering all three fingers he had up.

"Matt, you're so..." Chris began, trying to complete the sentence but getting lost in the good words he could use. "I loved hearing your answers. They were really good." He finally finished with a big smile on his face, his voice getting high pitched with the happiness used when expressing himself.

"Yeah, your relationship is an example of a good relationship. It's very beautiful to see how much you've evolved together, it's no wonder that you're going to complete four years together." Nick commented, a look of pride spreading across his face as he opened his notebook to look for the first question he would ask Chris.

Matt looked at Y/N beyond the camera, a goofy smile appearing on his face at the sight of her lovey dovey gaze.

"I love you." She spoke voiceless, blowing a kiss in the air that Matt pretended to catch and put in the pocket of his hoodie.

"I love you more." He replied voicelessly as well, before finishing his taco and switching places with Chris.

Y/N's heart warmed as she rethought Matt's answers, a feeling of pride spreading through her body. She loved him so much and had so much appreciation for the relationship they had built together. She hoped that they could always grow more and try to be better people every day together, too.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"I lived to see Matt listening to Harry Styles."

"Harry being Matt's guilty pleasure, I get you, Matt."

"The communication part is so real and so important to say!!"

"Matt seems like a super thoughtful boyfriend 🥺"

"omg, 4 years together, that's so cool 😫."

"I love Matt and Y/N together so much!!"

"Y/N and Nick singing Teacher's Pet together 😭"

"I adore Y/N's friendship with Chris and Nick!!"

"Petition for Y/N to do a GRWM just with Matt's clothes ✏️📄"

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 3

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, masturbation

Part 1

Billy normally did this sort of thing with Stu. He had a feeling his friend would be upset that he went alone. That's something he'd have to deal with later. Your room was on the second floor with no obvious way up to the window. If you were the only one home he'd find a way in. With current company that wasn't exactly possible. Binoculars, cellphone, and his trusty voice changer, were all he had to work with. Doing this sort of thing without a knife was unusual.

He positioned himself where he could see your bed and the posters adorning the walls. Rear window, The Birds, Vertigo, and Psycho. You were an Alfred Hitchcock fan. "And Stu said you didn't have good taste in movies." He scoffed. Billy shook his head the binoculars close to his eyes. He watched as you walked in the room towel wrapped around your frame. One foot closed the bedroom door behind you. You looked to the window as you slowly dropped your towel. Did you know he was out here?

That was impossible. It was pitch black outside with the exception of the moon. Billy watched as you pulled the dress from the bag. A smile lit up your face which in turn brought one to his lips. A sense of pride filled Billy's chest knowing he picked it out. Once again your eyes found the window looking out as if someone was right on the other side. Slowly you pulled the fluffy nightgown over your head, the frill dropping right under your ass. Billy's hand slipped down his abdomen resting over his zipper.

You grabbed the matching panties from the bag dragging them up your legs letting the elastic slap your skin. Moving away from the window you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Billy and Stu knew what they were doing when they bought you the nightgown. You spun letting the dress drift around you. Air seemed to catch in your throat as you got happy. A smile so painful your cheeks hurt, was one of the many indications you were elated with the gift.

The only thing you could think that would make it better was some music. Walking to your records you grabbed the worn out 45 listed under M for Monroe. Lifting the wooden cabinet cover you sat the vinyl down placing the needle in the first groove. Within a second "I wanna be loved by you" filled the room. You mouthed the lyrics as you danced around. That giddy feeling only getting stronger. Your hands slid up and down your body as if you were the best stripper on a Saturday night. It was classy though and Billy took note. The dancing wasn't the best, if you could call it dancing. It was like you were in love with yourself and the world around you. Playing around with the air that filled the room.

Billy started softly rubbing the bulge that began to strain again his dark jeans. His eyes never leaving you as you danced for an audience of one. Your towel dried hair swug around sure to fling left over water. You were his own personal burlesque dancer. Billy's hips grinded up into his palm. The knuckles wrapped around the binoculars began to turn white with his grip. He had no clue what song could make you ooze with such lust but he needed to use it to his advantage. You were walking innocence. Something he lacked throughout his life. You weren't stupid, you were incredibly brilliant. Every move you made it was intentional. You were putting a show just for him.

His hips quickened as the pressure grew. Little whispers of encouragement fell on deaf ears. Billy needed your glossy lips around him. He needed the hem of that frilly little dress to fall over his lap as you bounced happily. He needed... You. "Fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth. He needed new underwear. "Fuck." He dropped the binoculars by his side to assess the damage you caused. The mess you made. A small damp spot began to make an appearance through the denim next to zipper of his jeans. Ignoring the uncomfortable mess he picked the binoculars back up noticing you were now buttoning up your pajama shirt. "God damnit!"

Now that your little burst of energy was over you were ready to crawl in bed. You switched the record over to something more peaceful, one that would take longer to end. Billy put the binoculars down to focus on the phone number staining his hand. His finger tapped the buttons double checking the numbers before hitting call. He could hear the ear piercing ring all the way outside. Before you could answer he pulled the voice changer from his pocket.

Quickly you leaned over grabbing the phone off the receiver. Placing it right back down with a click. It was too late for anyone to be calling. Billy took a deep breath redialing the number. Once again the phone screamed for your help. "Hello?" You asked politely to Billy's surprise seeing as you were obviously upset at the intrusion. You hoped it was Billy. "Hello.." He spoke not really sure where to go with this one. Well at least you know who it's not. You picked up the phone sitting the receiver on the bed next to you. You got comfortable with the phone resting against to your face. "Hi what's up?" You spoke. No asking 'who is this?' or 'why are you calling?" Maybe you were a little dumb.

"Um-" Billy cleared his throat thinking of a quick response. "The sky." He squeezed his eyes closed in shame. His eyes opened to find you with a smile. A small laugh could be heard over the phone. "Okay smartass what's down?" This was stupid. You were supposed to angry at the caller, suspicious even. Who calls a girl all alone at this hour? "The ground." You laughed clapping your hands. "That's right! Not too bad mystery man. But what do you need? Why'd you call?" Finally.

"What if I just wanted to talk?" You scooted yourself underneath the covers thinking about the caller. "Okay but I'm not doing no weird shit. You can call one those sex hotlines for that." Billy smiled at your assertion. "Fair enough. Who might I be speaking to?" It was a test. You barley gave him a name when you first met he doubted you'd give it to a psychopath on the phone. "I would say we could exchange names but what's the fun in that? I don't know you, you don't know me. What's your favorite song?"

The question was out of left field so much so he wasn't ready for it. "What's yours?" He asked to your disappointment. Billy saw the sad look on your face. "Am I talking to Socrates right now? I asked first." Billy begrudgingly gave out his answer. "1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins. Now what's yours?" You nodded your head at the answer. It seemed fitting. "Oh gosh." You sighed. "I honestly don't have a favorite. And if I did it would change next week. Have you heard Landslide by Fleetwood Mac? It's really popular you probably have." You took a deep breath in. Sighing out the air in one go. "Anyways I really like that one. It's kind of sad though if you think about it."

Billy sat listening to every word you said. "Your turn." He always had the most important question on hand. Billy wasn't really sure if he wanted to ask knowing what normally happened afterwards. "Do you like scary movies?" Billy put down his binoculars focusing on just your voice. "I'd say I do. I like a very specific genre of scary movies though." Billy sat up listening closer if that was possible. "What do you mean by that?" The voice on the phone became lower sending a slight chill down your spine. "Everyone likes scary movies to be bloody. The more guts and gore the better. You don't have to have that to make a scary movie. Vertigo is scary but there's practically no blood and Rear Window is one of the best movies made about a murder with no body ever being seen."

"Scary movies should get inside your head, make the viewer wonder if they are next. Make them wonder if they are just as screwed up as the villain." Out of everything you could've said he wasn't ready for that. "You are very smart girl." Billy didn't intend for it to come off as sexual. However you definitely took it that way. "Has anyone told you that you've got a very attractive voice?" Billy smiled holding back a laugh. "Is that so?" You nodded as if he could see you. "Yep. Anyways it's getting late mystery man. I'm going to get some sleep. Sleep well okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight mystery girl." Billy whispered into the phone. For the first time he was the one to hang up. To end the call without screams on the other end. It made him feel surprisingly good. The light in your room turned off letting him know you were actually going to bed. Billy quietly packed up his things and started the walk to his car. He wasn't sure if this little talk changed anything for you but it definitely changed things for him.

Part 4

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21

[brucebocchi]

Spring 2024 anime, Pt. 1: Ongoing/returning shows and the bench

yo! i also post this on my ko-fi! this is very much a labor of love, so if you liked what i wrote consider throwing a few bucks my way! thanks!

And we are back! This one came a little later because I'm much busier now than I was three months ago, but that's a good thing. It'll be a bit longer before I cover last season's new anime, so bear with me. I'm happy to say, though, that I didn't hate anything I watched this season! So there's that.

As always, the OP is linked in the title of each show. Check them out, there were some good ones this season!

Here we go:

Continuing & returning shows:

Delicious in Dungeon, second cour

Ahh, Dungeon Meshi. At the start of my review of its debut cour, I said that Dungeon Meshi is a difficult anime for me to talk about unprompted because it’s such a complete, self-assured work that saying anything about it besides “PLEASE WATCH THIS ANIME IT’S SO FUCKING GOOD” feels like a fait accompli. After twelve more episodes and spending the better part of a weekend binging the entire manga, I’m left with little else to say besides please watch this anime (and read the manga), it’s so fucking good.

Our adventuring party has managed to slay (and cook) the red dragon and resurrect Falin from its belly, but the victory came at a cost: They have managed to not only invoke the ire of the dungeon’s ruler, the “lunatic magician” Thistle, but Marcille’s use of forbidden resurrection magic has also raised another number of hackles. Reunions aren’t all happy ones and the dungeon is getting weirder.

This line break represents where I wanted to add so much more and just kept falling short. This continues to be an exceptional adaptation of an exceptional manga. For all the silly gags, for all the goofy potshots everyone takes at each other, Dungeon Meshi is a series with a beating heart worn permanently on its sleeve. The group dynamic remains superb, and no less so for the standoffish half-girl-half-cat Izutsumi joining the gang (my joy at seeing her added to the OP was indescribable). The ways in which everything interconnects make up only a fraction of this series’ unmatched worldbuilding; much hay has been made about how Ryoko Kui designed the dungeon as a living, breathing ecosystem, but there’s so much more of that within the human element as well, and the latter aspect looks to only improve when the show returns for the next season.

Dungeon Meshi is, without question, the best anime of 2024 so far, and I will be impressed if anything manages to overtake it in this year’s latter half. The manga became one of my favorites in record time, and I have little doubt that by the end of the second (and almost certainly final) season, one of my favorite anime of all time will indeed be Dungeon Meshi. Ahh, Dungeon Meshi.

KonoSuba: God’s Blessing on This Wonderful World!, season 3

When I reviewed last year’s Megumin-centric spinoff, I mentioned that I’m not quite as high on KonoSuba as other anime fans. I always thought it was a perfectly serviceable comedy isekai, nothing too special, but mostly worth the watch. Even after the letdown that was An Explosion on this Wonderful World! last year, I was still looking forward to the long-overdue third season. And pretty much as expected, what we got was fine. Just fine.

That said, I was instantly delighted to see Megumin once again surrounded by Kazuma, Aqua, and Darkness. And as is frequently the case when those four are together, shit goes south fast. Kazuma, hoping to heal the mental wounds he incurred in the Legend of Crimson film, gets his groove back when he’s invited to regale the adorable Princess Iris with tales of his exploits. As a noble herself, Darkness is mortified throughout this ordeal, scrambling to ensure that Kazuma doesn’t get beheaded for being a loudmouthed freak, and also that Aqua and Megumin don’t accidentally burn the palace down in their revelry. 

KonoSuba gets a lot of comparisons to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, in that both are ensemble comedies in which the entire main group consists of awful people who don’t entirely like or trust one another. It’s a fair enough comparison, but what makes the group dynamic work for both shows is that the moral center is never a fixed point; the “voice of reason” among either group changes along with the situation to ensure the comedy stays fresh. And the fact that Lalatina Dustiness goddamn Ford has to be the voice of reason for the majority of this season should mortify you.

Darkness losing her mind aside, I didn’t really care for this arc. There was some interesting worldbuilding happening toward the middle of the season, but Kazuma acting way too eager about having a tiny, prepubescent girl calling him “onii-chan” just made my skin crawl, and I’m otherwise pretty much immune to the bog-standard “hey, laugh at this man because he’s a pervert” anime trope at this point. Fortunately, it only lasted for half the season, but unfortunately, it still felt an episode or two too long. The second half of the season followed Darkness’ forced betrothal to a gross noble from an earlier episode, and that arc also felt an episode or two too long.

Season 3 felt like KonoSuba both at its best and worst. The character dynamics are as rich as ever, even as Aqua and Megumin largely fell to the margins in favor of the larger stories. The smaller moments with the main four just bumming around their mansion are always just as entertaining as their larger exploits. The narrative seems to want to continue pushing Kazuma and Megumin together, nurturing the seeds planted in the movie, but later episodes also make a pretty good case for Kazuma and Darkness getting together; for better and for worse, those two absolutely match one another’s freak. Some of the gags this season were pretty darn good as well: This anime’s facials are already the stuff of legend, and we got some bangers here too (see above). For as loud as it often got, there were a few gags that centered on prolonged, uncomfortable silences like a late episode of Evangelion. And for as bored as I started to grow with the last arc, the punchline at the very end of the season almost made the whole thing worth it.

On the other hand, this show somehow got noisier. Some of Explosion’s funnier moments last year came from Megumin’s shrieking outbursts, so Studio Drive (taking over the main series from Deen) seemed to think that everyone needed to yell all the time now. It felt jarring; like watching season 4 of SpongeBob for the first time. I’m also not impressed by the fact that this series still seems to think sexual assault is just the funniest when it happens to men. It was a serious lowlight of the Legend of Crimson movie, and it just seemed to double down this time for a completely unnecessary segment in which Kazuma helps Dust get back at a creep, only for it to backfire on Dust and only on Dust. That shit sucks!

At the same time, it’s still KonoSuba, so ESH. If you made it this far, you’re pretty much along for the ride until it breaks down, so you take the good with the bad. Neither particularly outweighs the other, nor are they enough to push me towards declaring this show as either essential or unwatchable. It’s KonoSuba, and KonoSuba is fine.

Laid-Back Camp, season 3

The reigning champion of Cute Girls Doing Cute Things anime returns to the present day after the 10-years-later film, and it’s in fighting shape. Though the third season of Yuru Camp (another anime I refuse to call by its official English title) is in the hands of a new studio, it’s still full to bursting with all the gorgeous countryside scenery, tantalizing food porn, and whimsical music you’ve come to expect by now.

This is one that was on my backlog for the better part of a couple years, so I figured there was no better time to catch up than to time it with a new season hitting the air. Through two seasons and an original movie, Yuru Camp was peak slice-of-life: Low on conflict, heavy on cuteness, and brimming with personality. It does what it says on the tin; it’s a show about high school girls going camping, and by God are you getting high school girls going camping. And in the meantime, you, the viewer, get to learn the ins and outs of camping while discovering all these real-life, lovely spots along the Japanese countryside with Mt. Fuji always in view, and maybe help boost the local tourism economies once you go outside and touch grass.

The previous two seasons largely followed the girls’ exploits at school and out in the open as individuals and smaller groups before building to a big destination trip with all five of them, but season 3 takes a more, uh, laid-back approach. The first half follows Rin’s bike trip along with Nadeshiko’s hometown bestie, Ayano, until they meet up with Nadeshiko after her own solo excursion. We also get a quick peek at a heavily-fictionalized retelling of Chiaki, Aoi, and Ena’s outing with Toba-sensei, as well as a cherry blossom viewing trip with Nadeshiko and her sister, before the girls all come together once more for a nighttime hanami outing. It’s more of the same, and that’s exactly what you’re here for.

That said, the character work is the glue that holds Yuru Camp together, and it’s as wonderful as ever. Rin and Nadeshiko’s friendship remains a delight, and Hazel covered it better and more succinctly than I ever could in the Yuru Camp segment in her phenomenal video on countryside scenery in anime. Watching Rin bond with Ayano one-on-one on their own trip was a real highlight; they’d hit it off quickly in the first season, and it was lovely seeing Ayano working at Rin’s go-to bike shop in the movie, so I was overjoyed to see more of these two. More than anything, though, seeing a habitual loner like Rin connect so naturally with another person (and one who isn’t Nadeshiko, no less) just warms my cold, dead heart. The looser plotting also gives us the time and space to take in how the girls individually spend their downtime. Nadeshiko’s quickly becoming as much of an expert solo traveler as Rin, and her youthful enthusiasm about everything remains as endearing as ever. We even get to watch her becoming a train nerd in real time! 

At the same time, the communal aspect of camping is a huge part of what makes this show click. Part of that, of course, has been watching Rin’s social circle expanding, but also in seeing how readily campers observe and aid one another. Nobody is “the best” at camping (except maybe Rin’s granddad), so none of the campers in this show have any reservations about going out of their way to help one another. Even an expert solo camper like Rin was a greenhorn at one point, so she’s always happy to give and receive help. The various campers the girls run into along their journeys are always ready with local information about good spots to eat, relax, and take in a good view as well. Even camping on your own, you’re never truly alone.

In that same vein, Yuru Camp is as educational as ever. Along the girls’ travels, we learn plenty about the myriad suspension bridges over the Oi River drainage basin, the various types of passenger trains connecting the countryside, torii gates along the mountains, and clever ways to build a camping menu around local crops. Yes, Yuru Camp is as much food porn as it is nature porn, and the dishes are sumptuous. On that note, my favorite thing I learned this season came from Nadeshiko’s drooling outbursts during the other OutClub girls’ camp retelling: It turns out that there’s an equivalent Japanese colloquialism to what we call food porn, specifically in the act of taunting people about delicious food they can’t have right now, and that is “meshitero,” or “food terrorism.” That is just terrific.

Yuru Camp is in the hands of a new studio for its third season, and the difference is mostly negligible. This is a show that trades largely in vibes, and the vibes remain impeccable. Almost everything still looks and sounds great, but season 3 leans a little more heavily on CG for moving bikes and cars, and they do look markedly worse. Not immersion-shattering, but definitely distracting. The scenery largely looks less hand-painted in favor of a more photorealistic style, which does make me wonder about the actual level of artistry put into it, but that could just be me splitting hairs. Otherwise, it still looks like Yuru Camp, which is all you can ask for.

This show still rules though. I don’t often get intense in my praise of slice-of-life anime, and the ones that get me acting like that are the ones that go to wild lengths for the sake of a joke, like Nichijou and Kaguya-sama. I don’t know what it is about a show as lowkey as Yuru Camp that has me wanting to scream from the rooftops that “THIS FUCKING SHOW WHIPS ASS,” but I’m not questioning it. Maybe it’s cuteness aggression.

Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation, season 2, part 2

And we’re back with more of the best-made anime that I can’t recommend in good faith to just about anyone.

The latter half of season 2 surrounds Rudeus’ aims for a quiet domestic life, settling down with Sylphiette and at the request of his father, Paul, taking his little sisters Aisha and Norn into their home (along with a very welcome reunion with their escort). Aisha takes after her mother, Lilia, and is eager to please and help around the house, but Norn’s last memory of Rudeus is of his violent reunion with their father. Norn idolizes Paul, so she doesn’t trust Rudeus and refuses to open up to him. While Aisha is content with working around the house, Norn wants to keep her distance, so she decides to enroll and board at the magic academy.

Norn’s apprehension towards Rudy and the mental anguish it causes her becomes an isolating factor in her daily life, leading Rudeus to believe that she’s being bullied, much as he was in his previous life. Rudy’s attempts at sticking up for his sister fall flat and lead him to realize he’s been projecting on her this entire time rather than actually reaching out to her. It’s these moments of learning and unlearning that nearly make all of this worth it; this was easily one of the best episodes of Mushoku Tensei’s second season, and frankly one of the best episodes of anime I watched all season. Another episode near the end also earned that distinction, but it got weird afterwards. Even in its lower moments, this season traded very well in the themes of family, growth, and loss, and those aren’t always tidy subjects to handle.

Because this is Mushoku Tensei, the cozy home life can’t last forever. Paul’s attempts at saving his wife have continued to fall short, so he calls on Rudeus and Elinalise to come and help rescue Zenith. Rudeus is conflicted; though he finally has the opportunity to save his mother and face his father as a man, Sylphie is now pregnant and he doesn’t want to abandon his wife and future child. As often happens at times like this, Rudy gets some face time with the Man-God who has been seemingly invested in his journey, and for once Rudy flouts his advice to venture out. Many reunions are had, including one that had been teased all season, and a lot of things go south from there. I was spoiled on some of what would happen in later parts of the series, so it didn’t come as a massive shock to me, but it still got weird, it wasn’t really addressed all that well, and people were rightfully put off by it.

On that note, I’ve given up on the idea of this series being about Rudeus improving as a person, because he’s done just about as much “improving” as he’s going to by now. As I’ve said before, he’s not quite the drooling pervert he used to be (he was actually doing great for more than half of this cour before a succubus attack briefly got the better of him), but his moral compass, even in his best moments, still seems to be poorly calibrated. I do see a side of him now that genuinely cares for others and actively wants to help, but it doesn’t erase his questionable acts, nor do I get any sense that he deserves to get the things he wants. I particularly don’t care for what’s already looking like a formula wherein sex seems to be his cosmic reward whenever he hits a low point or achieves something great. For a series that genuinely has such excellent worldbuilding and storytelling, that part feels cheap enough to undermine everything else.

But hey, a rapist died, so it’s not all bad.

I’m not sure I’d necessarily put Mushoki Tensei on the level of Frieren or Dungeon Meshi, certainly not thematically, but with all three off the air this upcoming Summer season, it’s been a minute since we’ve had a season of anime without one of those three lovingly-made fantasy series on the air. It feels like anime has a massive fantasy void now, and I desperately hope I’m proven wrong soon.

Urusei Yatsura (2022), season 2, second cour

The final run of the remade Urusei Yatsura ended on a strong note with an honest-to-God story arc! Lum and Ataru’s tempestuous situationship is put into stark relief with the fate of the world in the balance, except not really; Lum just wants him to think that because she’s fed up with his shit and that’s just how she operates.

Even as disjointed as this run has been prior to the final arc, there were still some gems this season. The time-travel segment where the gang tries to undo Mendo’s fear of the dark was a certified banger, Asuka’s violent androphobia is as funny as ever, and the introduction of Nagisa as a means of further muddying Ryunosuke’s whole gender situation was the most quintessentially Rumiko Takahashi shit I’ve ever seen. It’s the character comedy that makes Urusei Yatsura what it is just as much as the central will-they-won’t-they, and it was just as potent as always before the series hurtled towards its finale.

The four-episode arc to close out the all-stars run, similarly to the final arc of the manga and the final movie of the original anime run, centers on a blowup between our romantic leads over a colossal misunderstanding (sasuga Takahashi-sensei) involving a unilaterally-fated marriage between Lum and the prince of a dark planet, Rupa. Though Ataru and fellow dark-planeter Karula (basically Rupa’s own equivalent Lum) foil the wedding, a carbon copy of Lum created to ensure a proper exchange of vows tells Ataru that she’s over him. Ataru’s feelings are genuinely hurt, and he tells the real Lum that they’re through, and he returns to Earth with Karula, accidentally spreading spores of the dark planet’s enormous mushrooms.

Said mushrooms rapidly grow enormous when exposed to sunlight, so Earth is already in certain danger. Lum sees an opportunity to manipulate convince Ataru to finally get serious, so she sets familiar stakes: She’ll enlist Rupa’s help in destroying the mushrooms, but only if Ataru can beat her in a ten-day game of tag by grabbing her horns, just like when they first met. More importantly, though, she’ll let it all go if he can just say out loud that he loves her. And you know damn well by now that these two are both as stubborn as they come.

As I’ve said before, this is a shorter run, so we may not have the benefit of the entirety of Urusei Yatsura up to this point to be properly salivating for the finale, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t still hit like a freight train. The emotional climax was still meaty and satisfying in ways that made all of this worth it. Half of the joke of this series is that Ataru’s never going to get serious about Lum in a way that matters, but every time the mask slips is a well-earned shot to the heart. The ending is no different, and it made the shorter run still feel worthwhile.

And with that, that’s a wrap on a modern (if truncated) retelling of a legendary comedy manga. I’ll be forever grateful to this iteration of Urusei Yatsura for finally pushing me into getting into Rumiko Takahashi’s classic works, and I’m beyond excited that there’s also a Ranma ½ remake on the way. If David Production takes that one on as well, it’ll be in great hands.

Anime I Watched Two Episodes of and Will Probably Get Back to Later

I Was Reincarnated as the 7th Prince So I Can Take My Time Perfecting My Magical Ability

I mean, you read the title.

This is less an isekai and more of a lateral reincarnation story; magic already very much exists in this fantasy kingdom, but this is about a guy who is very obsessed with magic but sucked at it suddenly gaining a wealth of talent and the opportunity to go absolutely sicko mode.

Lloyd’s existing knowledge of magic serves him well, and he becomes a virtuoso at a young age. He manages to subjugate a demon lurking in the palace’s library and turn him into an adorable familiar (and having the demon go from being voiced by Akio Otsuka to Fairouz Ai was a brilliant move) and just terrorize the poor little shit with his experiments and travails. The kid could basically do a Hollow Purple by the second episode. He’s kind of psychotic, and I love that for him.

This is definitely a comedy, but the comedy is kind of all over the place early on. Prince Lloyd is surrounded by beautiful young ladies-in-waiting who, uh, seem way too into him, and that kinda sucks. Lloyd himself is drawn and animated a little too lovingly for a child as well. It’s definitely uncomfortable in parts early on, but I’ve heard it lightens up on that and gets crazier in the parts that matter, so I’ll be coming back.

And it started with a menacing monologue from Takehito Koyasu himself, so of course my interest was piqued from the jump.

Oblivion Battery

It’s weird, I love both anime and sports, but sports anime was just something I never sought out too much until I picked up Blue Box recently (also please read Blue Box, it whips ass and the anime is gonna be incredible). Oblivion Battery’s debut coincided with the start of the American baseball season, so it seemed like a great time to hop in.

I can’t say I was too intrigued by the premise, though. The intentionally generically-named Taro Yamada quit baseball after middle school after getting utterly rinsed by the high-powered battery of pitcher Haruka Kiyomine and catcher Kei Kaname, so he enrolls in a high school without a baseball club, only to find that his classmates are… Haruka and Kei. Kei, as it turns out, took a bad hit to the head and has completely forgotten all about baseball, and now spends all of his time trying to be a comedy boke for unwilling participants. Taro and Haruka would like Kei to learn about baseball again, so they start up a new club, alongside other classmates who also quit baseball because of the titular battery.

Fine premise, but eh. The hook wasn’t enough of a hook for me, and even MAPPA handling the animation didn’t keep my attention for long. I’ll probably get back to it eventually, but I ended up watching plenty of other anime this season that felt like higher priorities.

Also, I’m pretty sure Oblivion Battery’s manga introduced a character named Aoi Todo before Jujutsu Kaisen did. I still prefer the latter.

YATAGARASU: The Raven Does Not Choose its Master

See, this one I probably should’ve picked up sooner, because it seems like it’s very much my jam, and I’ve seen plenty of praise for it. It’s a dense one, though, and I’d rather not cram it just to turn around and review it a few days later.

I won’t even go into the details because even two episodes in, there are darn near too many of them. This is a massive ensemble cast in and around a succession battle in a fictionalized, imperial Japan-esque kingdom created and ruled by yokai. We’ve got a battle of brides-to-be vying for the hand of an embattled prince, a cunning but resentful empress overseeing the proceedings, a possible spy or two, and a rambunctious little shit who looks like he got plucked out of Avatar: The Last Airbender getting roped into working in the palace. It’s a lot of moving parts, but I’m curious to see how they tie together.

Two episodes in and this show looks good, but probably not as great as it could. I know I’m spoiled on The Apothecary Diaries, but something like this already feels like it deserves better than some of the stiff character animation I saw early on. I’ll reserve my judgments for now.

YATAGARASU is continuing into the summer season, so I’ll take my time catching up on it. This one feels like it deserves to be sipped slowly, not chugged, and I’ll have my tasting notes in due time.

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER THREE: SITUATION-SHIP

↢ chapter two | series masterlist | chapter four ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [9.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, talks / mentions of self deprecation, mental spiral (overwhelming thoughts and anxiety), steve being an overthinking mess, overall fluffiness bcs we all need it rn.

summary: when Robin calls you with an impromptu invite to Hawkins you can't turn it down especially when you've been dying for an excuse to see Steve again. but it all comes to a daunting turn as Steve endures a night full of prodding and pestering by his friends. it gets the best of him, taking him down the familiar road of anxiety and fear, but that was before you strayed towards his side, showing him that this situation isn't as complicated as it seems.

“Look into his angel eyes, one look and you’re hypnotized…”

You hummed along softly with your hand on your hip standing in front of the kettle that boiled slowly on the stove. It was nearly midmorning and though you weren’t an early bird yourself, it felt nice to roll out of bed with the hope that today was going to be better…you were going to be better.

And better meant making an effort, one that probably would go nowhere, but at least you tried. It was about time you pulled yourself out of the slump instead of sitting around waiting for yourself to magically get yanked out of it with ease. Instead, you set the mood, turning your living room into its usual workspace that would hopefully help you get into the groove of things.

The curtains had been drawn letting the sunshine cascade the walls and floorboards of your apartment.

Your new ABBA record spinning on the turn table beside a freshly lit candle.

Paint bottles, brushes, and other material had been set on the coffee table, ready to be put to use.

A new canvas on the easel already primed and just waiting for you to step forward and bring your art to life.

“Okay,” You sighed, nodding to yourself as you took a sip of your hot coffee and walked towards your living room.

Setting down the mug after taking another sip, you reached for your sketchbook, flipping through the pages that you had filled over the course of the past few days. It wasn’t anything too out of this world, just scenes in your head that were committed to memory and couldn’t stop thinking about.

Four pages were full of rough sketches:

A piece of half eaten cherry pie on a plate.

A vase of flowers sitting on a window sill.

A pile of quarters sitting next to a jukebox.

And a silhouette of a man who looked way too much like Steve — shirtless and covered in beauty marks where he stood in your living room.

Who were you kidding? It was Steve. All four sketches had to do with him… the muse if you will.

The half eaten pie was a flashback to your first time meeting him and the longing gazes you two would share in his living room. The vase of flowers took you back to the day where he came over with summer arrangements in his hands. The pile of quarters reliving the moment he asked you to dance and gave you all his pocket change just so you could listen to your favorite songs over dinner.

And of course, shirtless Steve, a beautiful reminder that he was living in your head no matter how far apart you were and how blurry the lines between you both were drawn. Friends had a nice title to it, but there was that gnawing feeling of more, a kind of relationship you couldn’t quite place.

Embarrassingly enough, the sketch didn’t take you long. You even mapped out the littlest of details like the three moles he had resting on his stomach and the hair that decorated his chest.

‘It’s ten in the morning and you’re thinking about Steve, that’s so pathetic,’

Sure it was utterly pathetic and honestly downright ridiculous but you couldn’t sit there and pretend like you weren’t affected by him. Even if the sketch didn’t do real life Steve any justice, it was still Steve. The Steve that would send you into a love sick daze if you decided to paint him today so instead you opened for the slice of cake, just as memorable as shirtless Steve.

With the graphite pencil in your dominant hand, you used light strokes against the canvas, roughing out the original sketch and creating a guide that would make it easier for you to paint in sections. The details like the crumbs sitting on the plate and the mush from the cherries didn’t correspond the way you’d like just yet, but you know it’s part of the process and once the paint hits, it’ll come together eventually.

“Not bad,” You whispered under your breath, dropping the pencil down and stepping back to see the composition.

You had drawn the plate sitting against his wooden coffee table, a few crumbs littered across the dish with the fork resting on the edge. It’s a simple scene, something that you shouldn’t have to tilt your head at and begin to pick apart, but you do so without realizing it’s that incessant criticism again.

Even if it’s just a sketch, you’re already imagining the colors clashing together and looking murky if you even think about painting it. The pie itself doesn’t even look half eaten, instead it looks like it had been torn apart from the inside by maggots — disgusting and revolting.

“Nope, c’mon, get it together,” You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head back and forth as if that would make the gnawing thoughts leave your head.

When you opened your eyes you could picture the slimy larvae creatures moving across the plate and onto the fork, making you groan as you flopped back onto the couch and ran your fingers through your scrap tugging at your roots frustratedly.

All of it felt so fucking impossible and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the fact that you weren’t strong enough to combat your own goddamn thoughts and pick yourself up or maybe it was beginning to dawn on you that your spark was gone.

The ideas that you had in your head and even the sketches that filled your book was just the remainder of what was left. Before you knew it, it was all going to be gone eventually and you’d have to settle for the fact that your dreams as an artist were going to be crushed. And not because someone else was telling you that you couldn’t do it, but because at the end of the day it was always you.

Where was the girl who was sitting across from Steve at the diner that she painted all by herself? Where was the girl who looked around that same diner and realized that her potential was not limited by herself? Where was that girl who powered through all that stress and walked away with all the experience that made her better?

Where was she now and how could you find her again?

RING! RING! RING!

The search party was over pretty quickly, you weren’t even sure if you would have been able to find her in the first place. Reaching for the phone from where you were sitting, you picked it up and pressed it to your ear while you relaxed your head back against the cushions.

“Yellow,” You answered with a heavy breath.

A gasp rang from the other line with excitement, “Green! Are we going in order of ROYGBIV?!”

The voice on the other line immediately erased the frown on your face, calming the anxiety that was brewing in your chest as soon as Robin came through when you needed her the most.

“Robs!” You greeted happily this time, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you asked, sitting up somewhat.

She let out a “mhm!”, and you could hear some noise, probably something on the tv that she was playing to pass the time, “I’m calling you from work actually. I hope you aren’t too busy.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, glaring across the small space at the innocent easel and canvas, “Not busy at all, quite literally just giving my art supplies the nastiest glare in the world right now.”

“Still nothing new?” Robin wondered sadly.

You reached for your coffee mug, taking a sip and humming a reply before speaking, “Yeah, I think I’m throwing in the towel for the day.”

“Well don’t stress it, I’m sure it’ll come to you in no time.” She said encouragingly.

There was a special bond you and Robin had despite not knowing each other for long. For you, it felt like you have known her forever, possibly the bestest friend you’ve ever had because you didn’t have many.

Every thoughtful word came from her heart and you could feel it in the way she spoke to you with sureness even if you weren’t entirely sure of it yourself.

Your stress began to mellow, giving yourself the chance to finally breathe, “Thanks Ro. I miss you.”

“I know, I miss you too, buttttt we won’t miss each other for long because I was wondering if you’d wanna come down to Hawkins tonight!”

Her voice was always filled with excitement but this time around you caught the glint of hopefulness — as if you would ever turn it down even when you clearly had work to do.

You sat up wiggling your shoulders, “What the occasion?”

“Joyce and Hop are hosting a housewarming barbecue and because they’ve been hearing so much about you, they’d really love to meet you if you don’t have anything going on.”

You nibbled on your lip absentmindedly, “Hop and Joyce are the triplets parents’ right?”

You coined El, Will, and Jonathan under the nickname the triplets because of how similar they looked despite not being fully blood related. If Nancy hadn’t explained to you that the El was technically the boys’ step sister, you would have never guessed it.

You could hear the faint ding coming from what you assumed was the customer service bell followed by her saying, “Correct! So are you in?”

Glancing over at the time on the clock, you estimated that you had just enough time to start baking and then a little extra to get ready. From what you had heard, Hop and Joyce were the most laid back and involved out of all the parents. Knowing this you were more so excited than intimidated – if Robin and the rest of the group loved them, then so would you. 

“I’d be crazy to miss out on it, do you have an address?” You reached forward, picking up a ballpoint pen and napkin from your coffee table, ready to jot it down.

She mumbled under her breath, “Uhhh, hold on, I’m trying to remember.”

You were sure that you could picture the scene of her pinching her eyes shut and thinking especially hard with the “uh’s” and “um’s” from the other line. There was another voice in the background, a bit muffled yet closer and you wondered if it was Steve or their weirdo boss, Keith. Either way, you couldn’t hear what was being said, just the other person asking Robin something and her reply in pensive hums.

Then there was a slight shuffle, the phone feeling farther as she spoke. “Shit, here, talk to Steve while I try to get into El’s file.”

Your eyes widened and you sat up a little straighter, clearing your throat as you responded though you were sure she couldn’t hear you.

“O-oh, okay!”

Maybe it was because you spent a good chunk of your morning thinking about him and staring at the sketch of his shirtless body, but for some reason you had felt more skittish than normal. Almost debating on whether or not to hang up and let Robin call you back once she found the address. But it was just because you hadn’t spoken to Steve in five whole days.

It was Friday now and the last time you got to hear his voice is when he called you ‘sweet thing’ and you’d be lying to yourself if you said that you hadn’t been thinking about him saying it on repeat in your head — but that's besides the point.

It only took you five days of not speaking to him for you to realize that you missed him a lot more than you should’ve. That thinking about him the way that you were wasn’t entirely normal and the sketches even spoke for themselves. That night where he showed up to your gallery and spent the evening at yours was the catalyst to something inside of you that felt so foreign yet comforting.

By now it would be futile to try to pretend like you weren’t a plate of mush when it came to him.

“Hey, stranger.” He spoke smoothly.

His voice was cheery and you swore you could picture him leaned up on the counter with his phone pressed to his ear. A sight that you wish you could see with your own eyes instead of in your imagination.

You grunted out a short laugh, knowing there was no malice behind it, simply just trying to contain yourself, “Hiya, Steve.”

“How’s it going?” He asked with a short pause, “Being nicer to yourself?” There was a teasing lift to his voice that you caught making you roll your eyes playfully.

Laying back on the couch you kicked your legs up behind you, “I’m trying, but you know, I gotta say I’m a little annoyed at myself.”

He drew a breath in, voice coming out concerned as he spoke, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m a total idiot who forgot to ask the guy who bought me a dozen cronuts and my favorite latte for his number so I could thank him sooner,” you giggled, closing your eyes as you heard him laugh and the unease was replaced with humor.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m an idiot for not leaving it. I just thought you wouldn’t want me flooding you with calls if I had your number.” He said it quietly trying not to be heard by Robin, but you ended up stifling your laughter as you heard her chirp in the background

“Oh, I already do that, and she doesn’t mind!” Robin quirked up as you heard him groan, hissing at her to be quiet.

“She really does and I don’t mind. one. bit.” You assured him, hoping he’d take you up on the offer and finally ask for your number. 

He chuckled, humming before he spoke again, “But seriously, how are you?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, prompting an “uh-oh” from Steve who picked up on your underlying mood right away. Even if he hadn’t asked, you probably would have ended up telling him anyway.

“I tried painting today. Didn’t really end up going well, seeing as though I’m sprawled out on my couch right about now.” You grumbled slightly annoyed at yourself for this reason.

He sucked in a harsh breath of air, “Yikes, sorry to hear that, but hey! You’re trying and that's what matters,” he tried his best to be encouraging.

“I guess,” you replied.

“You’re doing it again,” he warned.

You furrowed your brows sitting up, “Doing what?”

“The whole being means to yourself thing,” he said obviously.

“No, I’m not,” you defended yourself though you know that’s exactly the path you were about to go down and it just so happened that Steve caught you.

“But you kinda were.” You could feel the small smile forming on his face because you know he sees right through the facade even through the phone.

You paused, guiltily sighing, “Yeah, I kinda was.”

The two of you shared a short laugh, his coming from his chest while yours came from your throat. The tightening of the muscle loosening with the sound of his laughter easing all of the pent up stress and anxiety within you like an instant cure.

“Well, stop it.” He murmured, “I know whatever you’re working on is gonna be great when it’s finished. For now it’s just gonna take a bit of time.”

That’s what you were hoping for, just a bit of time to get you out of this funk so that you could return back to your regular self that didn’t see creating art as a task. You wanted to get back to enjoying it wholeheartedly instead of being so hard on yourself.

You smiled into the receiver tucking the phone closer to your ear, “That’s really kind of you, Steve, thanks for saying that… and I'm sorry for being—”

He swooped in before you could finish the sentence not knowing what you could possibly be sorry for.

“Nope, no sorries either. No more being mean to yourself and no more apologizing unnecessarily.” His voice was laced with determination like you should know this by now.

You giggled faintly, shaking your head, “Fine, it’s a deal.”

There was a short pause of silence, wondering if you should tell him that he could get back to whatever he was doing instead of keeping you company over the phone, but he spoke first.

“Are you coming tonight?”

You hummed wiggling the pen in your hand, “Yeah, unless Robin can’t find the address.”

“She’s gonna find it, she just sucks at using the computer.” He joked lightly before you could hear Robin in the background.

“Oh shut up, I found it. Give me the phone!”

You giggled, moving yourself to sit up properly with a pen and napkin ready in hand to jot down the address.

“Okay… here’s Robs,” Steve said, getting ready to hand off the phone to Robin.

“See you tonight, Steve,” you said bubbly, excited to see him and the rest of your friends later in the day.

You could hear the phone being passed back to her from the slight shuffling, but it was quickly retracted back to Steve’s hand followed by Robin’s gasp.

“Wait!” He said hurriedly taking you aback, “You’re gonna wanna take Cornwallis instead of Mirkwood,” he began.

“Huh?” You asked confused.

“On the map, Mirkwood is the shorter route to Joyce and Hop’s but it’s a sketchy back road so don’t take it. Cornwallis is the safer route, granted it will take you a little longer but it’s safer so just…please, take Cornwallis.”

You bit your lip, holding back a smile that was borderline self indulgent because he almost sounded distressed. Like the thought of you taking the shortcut would send him into full panic mode and who were you to do that to him? Never would you ever think about worrying him like that.

“Okay, I’ll take Cornwallis. Promise.”  You said firmly followed by a sigh of relief on the other line.

“Okay great, I’ll see you—sorry, I don’t know why, I’m saying that, I literally just said it five seconds ago.” He stumbled over his words apologizing unnecessarily. 

You grinned, biting back laughter. “It’s alright, Stevie. I’ll see you tonight!”

The nickname had slipped without you even realizing it. A sweet sweet nickname that rolled off your tongue innocently while it made Steve’s heart pitter patter a little faster in his chest, almost making him go dizzy because it was you saying it to him.

“Y-yep, gotcha, see ya tonight.” He stuttered, pulling the phone away from him.

“You guys make me sick,” Robin muttered jokingly, flicking Steve’s forehead as she took the phone and began reading you the address on file.

It wasn’t long before you and Robin said your goodbyes, reminding you to take Cornwallis once again after Steve had shouted it out from across the store. She whispered something about him being totally overprotective, but you didn’t mind, if anything you found it endearing as he was looking out for you and you knew Robs was just teasing.

So your productive morning didn’t turn out the way that you had planned it to be. Instead of fulfilling the blank canvas at home, you headed out to pick out some things for the party knowing it would be rude to show up empty handed.

At the farmers market you picked up a bundle of fresh rhubarb and a carton of strawberries — a gift to Joyce who made the best strawberry rhubarb pie according to her children. Then at another stand you picked up two bottles of cider, black currant and apple ginger for Hopper.

The rest of the things you picked up were little gifts like an assortment of freshly made jams that came in cute little reusable glass jars, a bundle of herbs, and a gorgeous bouquet of bright sunflowers.

Once you had arrived back home, you committed most of your time to assembling dessert. A trifle recipe that you had bookmarked in a cookbook yet hadn’t gotten the chance to try to bake until today — though in hindsight you should’ve picked something a lot simpler, but you always like to see how much you could crunch your time.

It wasn’t long before dessert was sitting in the fridge and you were covered in flour and pastry cream as you got to work personalizing gifts for the three siblings: El, Will, and Jonathan. Their gifts were practically free, coming from your collection of office supplies, yet also coming from your heart.

El’s was a baby pink spiral notebook, college ruled with over 200 pages she could write her heart out in. You had decorated the outside cover with silver and gold stars and in cursive letters you had written “El’s Secret Journal” inside of a heart.

Will’s was a tan sketchbook with thick pages where ink and paints couldn’t bleed through. You kept the cover pretty plain, using sticker letters to title it “Will’s Spectacular Sketches'', and adding a smily face in the corner.

Jonathan’s was a photo album that would store his developed film pictures that he had told you were starting to pile up in a random shoe box in his closet. You used newspaper clippings of letters to spell out “Jonathan’s Photography” in order to achieve the vintage sorta look you knew he was into.

All of the goodies were packed into a thrifted wickered basket that the family could repurpose whenever they wanted. And it also meant easy transporting for you considering how many things were stuffed into the basket. Surprisingly enough, everything fit perfectly and you were crossing your fingers that the family loved it just as much as you did.

“Okay, c’mon,” You rubbed your hands together before getting to work on cleaning up your place.

Once you were done you quickly got into the shower, rinsing your body off of the perspiration and baking ingredients that clung to your skin.

It wasn’t long before you were dried and throwing on a simple outfit: a floral cami paired with overalls and strappy sandals to match. You dabbed on a bit of makeup before throwing on your everyday jewelry and rushing out of your bedroom

The time on the clock read a quarter to six and by now you were supposed to leave ten minutes ago — way to go for time management.

Quickly you slung your purse over your shoulder before grabbing everything and hitting the road to what you hoped wouldn’t be too long of a drive.You couldn’t wait to meet Joyce and Hopper and most of all you couldn’t wait to see your friends again… and especially the person whom you saw more than a friend.

Meanwhile the sun was setting over Hawkins and in the Byers-Hopper front yard was a group of kids too busy screaming their heads off playing tag while the others finished setting up to get together.

Nancy and Jonathan were busy setting up the picnic tables, trying to figure out a way for the paper plates not to fly off. Robin was helping Joyce inside the house, getting the veggies cut up and plated, though both of them knew they were really spending more time talking. And Eddie and Steve lingered around the grill helping Hop with the barbecue duties.

El, however, was not participating in tag, tired from chasing around her friends and wanting to catch a break as she stayed close to her fathers’ side and talked his ear off about the girl from Roane who was going to be here any minute now.

“You’re gonna love her, dad.” El bubbled watching as her dad flipped the burger patties and Steve held an aluminum pan out for him.

Hop’s chest puffed out, peering down at her. “From what I heard she sounds like you’re grandma, so I’m a tad bit concerned.”

The young girl frowned sadly, detaching from his arm. “That’s what Mike said.”

Eddie and Steve both held back their laughs watching the way Hop’s face had fallen at the sheer thought of being compared to Mike. It was obvious that the man still had a hard time accepting the fact that his own daughter would ever consider dating such a little twerp — but to each their own.

Hop coughed, shaking his head regretfully. “Well, in that case, I'll take it back. She sounds lovely, all of you can't stop yapping about her so she must be nice,” he rolled his eyes somewhat though El didn’t seem to catch it.

“The nicest!” El gushed happily, clapping her hands together. 

Steve was smiling, not minding that the conversation was centered around you because… it was you. He honestly didn’t blame El for being so excited, after all they only got to see you a few days out of the week and when they did it was always something he looked forward to the most.

Eddie was the one who wiped the smile off his face, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow nearly making him drop the pan of burger patties,“Especially to Steve.”

“Asshole!” Steve shouted, regaining his grip on the pan and glaring at the metal head who shuffled a few inches away.

“Hey!” Hopper clanked the metal tongs together gaining the boy's attention, “Make fun of him all you want but don’t you dare drop the food. Spent way too much on all this crap and the last thing I need is dirt covered burgers.”

“Yeah, c’mon man, get it together.” Eddie chided with a grin as El giggled and shook her head, clearly amused by the grown men’s banter.

The sizzling of meat on the grill accompanied the shouts of the rest of the kids who were calling a timeout wanting to take a water break. The automatic porch light flickered on, giving light to the dim area as the sky turned darker with each passing minute.

“Isn’t she supposed to be here by now?” Eddie raised his brow, taking a look at the time on his watch.

“Probably stuck in traffic or something, Roane gets backed up pretty quickly.” Steve said, holding out the pan closer as Hop placed the cooked meats on top of one another.

Hop glanced around raising an eyebrow, “What’s so special about this girl, anyway? All I’ve been hearing for the past two weeks is Roane, Roane, Roane—”

Eddie snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “Well for starters, she lives in Roane.”

The older man glared, responding sarcastically, “Wow, no kidding. Thanks Munson."

“Always my pleasure, sir.” Eddie saluted before patting Steve firmly on the back,“You. Why don’t you tell Hop about her since you two are soooo close?”

El giggled, reaching out to poke Steve on the cheek as he chuckled and shrugged away from her and Eddie’s teasing. But he couldn’t hold back his smile, not when it came to this and bragging about all the wonderful things that he had come to memorize about you.

“She’s an artist. Sells her own work at galleries and she gets commissioned for custom pieces from time to time.” He started, leaving out the bit about you painting an elaborate mural, knowing you’d like to tell them that yourself.

“And she bakes.” El chimed in.

Steve nodded with a smile before turning back to Hop, “And she’s kind, like insanely sweet, even to Mike and that’s saying a. lot. But she’s also super generous, gave Will a bunch of art supplies and will probably bring some more tonight—”

Hopper couldn’t help but interrupt the never ending list, pointing at him with the tongs, “Are you and her seeing each other or something?”

Steve blinked, shaking his head vigorously and pursing his lips. “W-what, no, we aren’t—”

“You sure?” Eddie tilted his head.

Steve groaned, narrowing his eyes at the metal head. “You’re literally friends with us, I’d tell you if we were.” he replied with a sigh giving him that knowing look.

The metal head shrugged, a teasing smirk pulling up at his lips, “Yeah, but I didn’t know you spent the night at her place until the next day.”

“You spent the night?” Hopper blurted crossing his arms over his chest.

Steve swallowed, “I wasn’t planning to, but there was a road closure and she offered. And like I’ve been telling everyone, nothing happened. We talked, then went to sleep.”

“And you got her coffee and did laundry before you left!” El added innocently, before slapping a hand over her mouth after Steve had widened his eyes at her.

“How did you know that?” He accused suspiciously as the girl took off shouting a “I don’t know” behind her.

Hopper and Eddie seemed entertained by the information while Steve on the other hand was mortified as to how she would know that unless you had told Robin who then had told Nancy who then told Max who then told her.

Knowing Robin for as long as he did, it was most likely her. You on the other hand had no idea that Robin was a blabber mouth and the world's worst liar — but she was still his best friend so there was not much he could do about it. 

“Husband duties already?” Hop joked, snapping Steve out of his worries.

He snorted, gripping the pan tightly in his hold, “I’m sure Joyce would have appreciated it when you and her started seeing each other.”

Hopper’s chest rumbled with a deep laugh and his face fell with a smirk, “Yeah, kid, I’m sure she did, but the difference is Joyce was my girlfriend but you, my friend, haven’t even asked—”

“You know what… that’s not the point!” Steve pinched his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself before opening them back up to see the smug smirks on Hop and Eddie’s faces, “I’m not a slob, I wasn’t going to leave her place without cleaning up after myself and at least thanking her for letting me stay over.”

The two men looked between each other, letting their shoulders fall with a shrug, “Sure, whatever you say.”

Steve was about to respond, a snarky comment about how Eddie shouldn’t be talking because his dating life was about zero to none and how Hopper should help Joyce with carpooling instead of rushing out of the house to get donuts every morning. But the remarks didn’t get a chance to break free as the front door of the home flung wide open.

“She’s here!” Robin shouted, jogging down the porch steps and whipping past the men at the grill setup.

He watched as she waved her hands up in the air stopping at the end of the driveway where your car had been approaching with the headlights dimming. As the yellow beacon of lights died, the car parked and he could clearly see through the glass beginning to unbuckle your belt as you smiled and waved.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve muttered, hastily thrusting the aluminum pan into Eddie’s hands as he jogged over to your car to greet you.

You should’ve known Robin wasn’t going to let you get out of the car before pulling you into a tight hug within the cramped space of your driver's seat. But you didn’t mind one bit, even if you were straining your neck to fully reach up around her and hug her just as snuggly.

“I’m so happy you came!” Robin squealed against you before letting you go.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you spoke gratefully as you took the hand she extended to help you out of the car.

And again you were met with “hello’s” and “hi’s” this time in rapid fire from the kids who quickly flocked around your car the moment they heard Robin screaming her head off. You honestly didn’t know if you had gotten to say hello to all of them before they ran off to wherever they were headed.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Hop and Joyce!” She singsonged, skipping away before she had heard you say that you were going to grab some things first.

It already felt a lot better being here with your friends than being stuck at your apartment all alone tonight. These days the thought of leaving your sacred space to hang out with your friends in the next town over didn’t feel so overwhelming. If anything it was a tempting every second thought that crossed your mind as you enjoyed their company just as much as they did yours.

For you, nights like this used to be so rare, filled with loneliness and pacing your apartment fighting the urge to cancel plans — if you had any, that is. It felt nicer to be wanted, even in a simple setting like this one on a week night that should’ve been spent at home with work being done.

If you lived closer you were sure nights like this would be more common than not.

“Here, I’ll help.”

You felt him before you heard him and it honestly was the best type of anticipation that you could sense in your bones. Something you had picked up on from the first time that you met him. The way that he was always near whenever you were around and it was safe to say that you liked it.

Turning your head over your shoulder, you screeched excitedly.

“Steve!”

Your arms threw themselves around Steve’s neck, pulling yourself to him as he braced you with his arms wrapped around your back. He could feel you smiling against his collarbone as you tiptoed to try to reach the rest of him before eventually giving up and standing comfortably in his hold.

The only kind of hug that you and Steve ever shared was the fully immersed one where you’re both chest to chest, every inch of exposed skin sweeping against each other as you took one another in. It’s the only kind of hug either of you know when it comes to each other, the one that feels the most comfortable and right.

“Hey, you,” He murmured into your hair, taking in the scent that his memory wouldn’t let him forget.

Though it had already been five days since he used the collection of Body Shop products that littered your bathroom, it felt like he couldn’t wash it away, even overtop his cologne. And even if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, like torture for being away from you for so long — it felt nicer when the smell comes from you.

When your hair danced in the wind and filled the air with vanilla like a cloud that smothered Steve. He didn’t even dare to stop his senses from committing the blossoming jasmine and ripened peaches of a garden that you’re standing in the heart of to memory.

Hugs like this are a sort of delicacy to him that he hoped is the same for you, though he’s not sure if his Old Spice even comes close to the allure that you are — he can only hope.

“How was the drive?” He asked, finally fighting the urge to stop taking your aroma in.

He loosened his arms briefly to pull back and catch a glance at your face that was tucked to his chest. You retract only inches, staring up at him through your lashes with a smile never ceasing.

“Wasn’t too bad! I did almost get lost but I took a u-turn and took Cornwallis like you said.”

You forgot to tell him that you nearly took Mirkwood after having no clue of where you were going and your eyesight is too bad for you to read the street names on the rusty signs. It’s was already buried in the back of your mind, too happy that you made it here safely… his arms and the home, of course.

His arms tighten around you at the admission, squeezing you gently as he gave you an apologetic smile, “Sorry, you know if I wasn’t working today I would’ve come and picked you up.”

It’s not just something he’s said for show, you know he meant it wholeheartedly and if only he wasn’t working you would’ve taken him up on the offer. The passenger seat of his beemer is way more comfortable, not because it was a luxury car, but because he the one sitting beside you getting you where you need to be safely. 

“That’s alright, Steve,” You reassured him before hugging him close again, “thank you though.”

It isn’t long before the hug is interrupted by the shouts from Robin who is clearly amused by the sight yet very hungry and ready to sit down and feast. Steve muttered something unintelligible while you turned your head and flashed her a half smile from where she stood in between the home owners.

Steve knew the pointed look Robin gave him from across the driveway, the one that reads “don’t start with me!” and because of this he knew it’s best to let you go even when all he wanted was five more seconds to hold you like this.

He tapped the small of your back with his fingertips before he released, “Go,” he begins, chuckling as Robin begins counting down out loud like a threat. “I’ll grab the rest of the stuff.”

“Okie dokie,” You laughed, letting your arms drop from around his neck, leaving behind the rest of the stuff for Steve to carry.

Your fingers twiddle on their own accord as you approach the couple, smiling shyly, “Helloooo.”

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi, honey!”

Robin held her arms out wide, motioning to them both, “This is Hop and Joyce. Joyce and Hop, meet my friend from Roane!”

“Thank you for having me,” you beamed, unsure if you should stick your hand out and be formal.

Thankfully, Joyce didn’t hesitate to close the space between you, wrapping her arms around you lovingly and giving your back a rub, “Of course, honey, we’re so glad you were able to make it!”

She reminds you a lot like Dorothea, only less intimidating and shorter. But she’s just as warm and inviting, making you feel comfortable as if you’ve been here a million times before. As she pulled away, she gave your shoulders one last kind squeeze before you looked towards the tall giant beside her.

On the outside he looked scuffy, a thick mustache and a mean scar above his left eyebrow. But you know he’s the father to three wonderful and good hearted kids who praise him for being the best in the entire world, so you know he’s far from that — if anything his Hawaiian print button down would’ve told you anyways.

He was the one who broke the short silence, tapping the metal tongs together as he smirked, “So you’re the girl my kids won’t shut up about, huh?” He said jokingly.

Will and El don’t miss a beat to whine “Dad!” from the picnic tables where they were ready to eat.

You grinned walking into his side as you gave him a small hug, “I suppose so, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” He nodded, patting your back and letting you step away.

The car door slammed shut and Steve was striding over with his hands full, “You can lock it now,” he said with a chuckle. 

You nodded, digging your hands into your purse to find the keys as you clicked the fob and watched the headlights flash twice before hearing the beep.

“Thank you, again,” you said quietly, reaching for the goodie filled basket and taking the weight from him as he hums.

Turning on your heel, you held it out towards them, Robin already long gone and joining the rest of the group of watches from their seats.

“These are for you guys and the family,” You announced, letting Hopper take it from you as he began to inspect the contents.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Joyce pouted with gratitude.

You shook your head reassuringly,“It’s really no problem! I didn’t want to show up empty handed anyways,” you insisted.

“There’s a bunch of local stuff from the farmers market in there, but I also customized a few notebooks for the three based on their hobbies and whatnot.” You explained watching as he pulled out one of the bottles of cider and began reading the label.

“Can’t wait to add this one to the bar,” Hop snickered, waving the bottle around in front of Joyce as she scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully.

She looked at you, pretending to conceal her mouth as she muttered, “He added a bar cart to the kitchen and now he thinks he can collect all the alcohol he wants.”

The married couple's banter made you smile, happy to see that even in their middle age they were still finding ways to poke fun at each other without actually hurting the others feelings. 

Hop looked down at her with fake annoyance eyeing around the yard. “Yeah, well, this barbecue was actually supposed to be me giving everyone a grand tour but all everybody wants to do is stay outside.”

Joyce slapped  his arm lightly , “Hop, you’re gonna bore her, please,” she said embarrassingly.

You clutched your hands together behind your back, jutting your chin up with piqued interest, hoping to actually get a tour of the place. From the outside alone it looked cozy yet simple. Rose bushes lined the porch along with rocking chairs on the wooden deck.

“I wouldn’t mind a little tour, the place looks beautiful by the way.” You said cheerfully.

Hopper grunted, passing a smug smirk towards his lady before trading the cold dessert Steve was holding for his grilling tongs.

“You’re on meat duty. Come on, kid.”

The man began leading the way towards the front door before you offered Joyce another grateful smile as you followed along.

“Scream if he starts going on a home improvement tangent.” She called out half jokingly as you turned around and flashed her a thumbs up.

Steve chuckled to himself, flipping open the grill, “She’s too nice to do that. She’ll probably stand there and let him go on and on.”

Reaching for the aluminum pan that sat on the grill’s edge, he began taking off the last pieces of cooked meat hoping to get away before he smelled of smoke.

“She’s real pretty, Steve,” Joyce nudged him lightly with her elbow.

With a kind smile, he replied,“she really is, isn’t she?”

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?” She asked, genuinely curious and unaware of the circumstances around you both.

He furrowed his brows, lips twitching as he tried to hold back a grin, “We aren’t…I haven’t — we’re not dating, just…yeah, just not dating.”

“You haven’t asked her out yet?” She speculated.

He shook his head, shutting off the heat and closing it with a loud metal clang,“yes…well no, no because we’re just friends — friends, that’s it.”

The quietness from the picnic table should have been a red flag considering that everyone was usually talkative, especially the kids. But their silence meant one thing: eavesdropping.

“Now that’s just bullshit,” Mike barked out while Steve and Joyce made their way over with pans.

Steve glared, placing it down directly in front of the little shithead, “You Wheelers just love the word ‘bullshit’ don’t you?”

Truly, Steve put up with a lot when it came to the kids and while he had a soft spot for them, they were on thin ice these days because of their meddling. They stuck their noses where it didn’t belong, barging in on him at work to talk his ear off about dating advice as if they were the experts who could solve his problem.

“I mean he’s not wrong,” Max began shrugging her shoulders, “friends don’t hug or look at each other like that.”

He furrowed his brows, taking a seat in the middle of the open space,“like what?”

“You know what,” The red head retorted with a scoff.

He pursed his lips tightly tapping his knuckles against the grain. “No, please, someone enlighten me.” Steve challenged, looking at the faces around the table that looked away from his hardened gaze.

The last thing he wanted for tonight was to be pestered on by a bunch of fifteen year olds who thought that they had the whole dating thing down the tee. Half of them could barely even stand in the presence of their crush without fainting and the others were on and off again for stupid little things.

Lucas was the brave one, speaking up with his hands thrown dramatically in the air. “Like you guys long for each other! You act like you haven’t seen her in ages but it’s only been like five days.”

“You rushed the car like you hadn’t seen her in months,” Dustin added feeling less intimidated.

Steve’s eyes widened, pointing his finger at his best friend across the table, “So did Robin!”

She held her hands up in defense, letting her shoulders come up cautiously. “Because I’m like her closest friend out of all of us, you dingus! I have car rushing privileges.”

He clenched his eyes shut,“Oh my god,” he breathed heavily when he opened them back up, “what’s the big deal?”

It was a real question — what was the big deal about him being just as happy as everyone else to see you?

“The big deal is you obviously like her but you’re just sitting here not doing anything about it.” Mike gestured, half glaring at the man.

“Look, what we’re saying is you need to just take the chance and ask her out.” Max put it simply, glancing around at everyone else who nodded their heads.

“The worst she could say is no.”

It’s not their fault, the kids are young and don’t have much experience out of their little friend group that they’ve established, but what they don’t understand is that you saying no isn’t the worst case scenario — it actually quite the opposite.

Steve Harrington had been rejected many times before, and he had been to move forward with life, taking their answer for what it was and not trying to push. Sure, him asking you out and you saying no would totally leave him heartbroken for a few weeks, maybe even months, but he was never going to try to force you to feel the same way about him.

But that was the problem… he knows you feel the same.

Feelings are reciprocated between the both of you, something that had been developing and brewing over the course of just two weeks. And Steve’s no genius but he picked up on all the little things you do that affirm what he knows.

It like a looped movie in his mind, a compilation of moments that the two of you had shared:

Glances from across the living rooms when no one else is paying attention.

Lingering touches that feel like electricity sparking up his heart.

Gentle words of solace, like a sacred promise that you’d never break.

Laughter that is so contagious and never ending.

There’s no denying it, especially in the way that you and Steve acted when people were watching. A space or world that you two created and transported to whenever it’s just you and him. Nothing could ever be so easy to see through, it’s not even hidden in plain sight — just evidently clear. 

For once in his life his gut and heart worked in tandem, not trying to fight it off the feelings or fleet away. He shows it in the way he conducts himself around you, not holding back on the longing hugs or the sweet words, totally just letting himself be.

Things, however change when he thinks about moving further, like his brain switching and telling him to not trust his gut or his heart because it’ll only blow up in his face at the end. That this… whatever this was, it was too good to be true.

Steve could never see it in himself to be the man you would ever want to be with, even if you were all in already.

He can imagine that after everything you’ve told him about your past, that it can’t be easy for you to trust again, to give yourself wholeheartedly to another person after all those years yet here you were slowly giving yourself to Steve in the same way he was handing himself over to you.

You’ll hold him, give him the safe space to talk about anything, his awful parents and his stupid boring life, but he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to hold you. If he has it in himself to give you the kind of love that you deserve… if the love he has inside of him would even suffice.

You’ve been hurt.

He had been the one dishing out the hurt.

But you’ve healed.

And he’s grown.

Yet it still feels like the two of you could be dancing with your hands tied and he can’t live to see himself be the one to hurt you — he can’t.

When Steve lost Nancy, it ate him alive, being so stupid and selfish for pushing her past the point of no return all because he couldn’t put his ego aside. But he’d been long over that, receiving her forgiveness and knowing that Jonathan loved and cherished her more than he ever could.

Losing you would kill him, just the thought of breaking your heart was sending him into a spiral of his thoughts.

He doesn’t even hear Eddie and Jonathan hissing at the kids to shut their traps and stop being so nosey. All of it feels like deafening silence even with the crickets chirping loudly in the grass and the dying charcoal sizzle in the grill a few feet away.

There’s a blank stare across his face, the expression so dull and lifeless, like his soul just got ripped away from him. Like a scene in a movie where the world goes on and on yet he’s still sitting there waiting for something to change.

“Steve, hey,” Robin said panicked, beginning to sit up on her haunches to get closer to him, “Dude, c’mon.” She said again, this time waving her hand in front of his face trying to pull him out of there.

The only thing he sees in front of him is his worst nightmare: you sobbing with your head in your hands, shouting that you never want to see him again as you get up and point him out the door.

No matter how loud Robin called for him to snap out of it and Joyce shaking his arm almost pleading — he couldn’t escape it.

The monster he’d become if he ever hurt you.

“What did I miss?” You piped up with your hand coming down to rest on Steve’s shoulders as you took a seat next to him.

It’s only then that he felt himself coming back down to Earth. Grounded knowing that you were right here in front of him with a smile on your face rather than a frown with tears coating your cheeks. You were happy right here with him, not trying to get away.

But your happy face quickly dropped with concern, hearing as though no one is answering you, not even Steve. He can feel it, the question on the tip of your tongue ready to ask him if everything is alright, and he doesn’t quite know the answer.

“I’m gonna go get a drink inside,” Steve finally spoke, getting up and leaving without saying another word to you.

Your eyes followed him, taking in his quick footing that took him through the front door in a matter of seconds. With your eyebrows furrowed, your voice drawled out, “Is he…okay?”

Looking around the table, the kids don’t dare to meet your eyes, not even innocent Will and El and that’s how you know something is up. Eddie only flashed you an apologetic smile as he shrugged his shoulders and took a swig of his beer. Nancy and Jonathan don’t even meet your eyes, theirs zeroing in on the living room window, trying to see where he went.

It’s Robin who takes a deep breath and lets her shoulders drop, “We don’t know.”

Joyce brings her hand to your arm, rubbing it warmly as she grimaces behind her smile, “I think he just needed some air, honey.”

You swallowed, nodding your head as you brace your hands on the wood and begin pushing yourself up, “I’m gonna go check on him.”

They didn’t try to stop you, insisting that it’s best for Steve to be alone right now because they truly don’t know what to do. The conversation had gone from all in good nature to triggering in a matter of seconds. 

You stepped through the front door making a beeline towards the kitchen where you could hear the ruckus of cans and bottles being shifted around in the fridge.

“Steve?”  You called out faintly, creeping around the wall to peek at him where he was hunched over in front of the appliance.

He turned his head over his shoulder, his face softening with just you in his sights, “Hey. Umm did you want a water or a soda?” He asked, holding up the two beverages in his hands.

You shook your head, watching as he forced a smile and put them back into the refrigerator, shutting it closed.

“Are you ok?” You approached him as he straightened up.

Steve nodded his head as if he was trying to convince himself, “Y-yeah, I’m fine—”

You knew he wasn’t. His easy going aura was replaced with someone that was tense and passive, trying his very best to put up a front. 

“Did the kids say something stupid?”

‘Insanely stupid and it sent me into a mental spiral’,  he thought.

“When don’t they?” He joked, rubbing a hand behind his neck as he tried to advert from your gaze.

You tsked, biting your lip as you watched him closely. “You usually don’t storm off like that, just had me worried, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” He assured you, as if that would make your concern disappear.

“But I do,” You professed, no hesitation behind your voice, just you and your brutal honesty.

There’s not much to say, not when you both know what’s brewing between the both of you right here all alone. But in all honesty, the pot was boiling over, the point of no return but to just let it all go.

There’s so much Steve wanted to say, like the way he worries about you too. How he thinks about you throughout the day, that you’re taking care of yourself and being kinder like you had promised you would. Or how he wants you to know you can call him whenever you’re feeling alone and need the company — he’d drive to you no matter the hour whenever you called.

“Are you gonna drive all the way home tonight?” He started, looking out the window where the dark sky already clouded over the town.

“What?” You asked, clearly taken aback by the sudden question.

He swallowed, looking back at you, “It’s dark and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive home all alone. I mean you just got here, but by the time you leave it’ll be even darker and the roads are hard to see and—”

“Steve,” You whispered quietly, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

It’s enough for him to shut up, to want to reel in the moment of your touch on his again, even if it’s just for a split second.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to spend the night at yours?”

He cursed at himself, realizing that’s what he must have sounded like. A pig who was trying to get into your pants when really that’s not what he was insinuating at in the first place. He just wanted you to be safe. 

“I—I’m sorry… you could ask Robin or Nance to spend the night at theirs if you want, I just really don’t want anything bad happening tonight if you decide to drive—”

“Steve,”  You started again, this time your voice firmer as you weaved your fingers through his and never letting up on your grip.

“Do you want me to spend the night at your place?” Your voice was sure, confident yet soft, letting him know that you’re not trying to make fun of him.

He knows you understand what he means. 

“I do,” he breathed, nodding his head and giving your hand a squeeze, “I really want you to.”

“Then I’ll spend the night at yours.”

Your words were all it took for him to relax, forgetting why he was so wound up and anxious in the first place. 

All of it doesn’t seem to matter when his heart was already in your hands. You have all of him – his deepest fears and his wildest dreams. He’s committed to you like a promise, something he knows he doesn’t have to hold out hope for any longer because he’s strong enough. 

You knew it all along and he finally started to feel it. 

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: chapter three is finally here!!!! thank you all for being so patient and sticking around!!! we're finally seeing some momentum picking up when it comes to glitch reader and steve...i wonder what they did at his place ;) HEHEEHHE (yes i am evil cackling bcs i have tricks up my sleeve 'cowboy like me' style) as always, a big big big thank you to my sweetest effie @translatemunson for helping me out with proofreading and guiding me throughout the whole process of writing -- theres no one i'd rather spill my guts to other than you, I LOVE YOUUUUU!!!! happy reading to all!!! 🙈🩷

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

projection as a coping mechanism, my beloved. this is 1k about mickey being tired from depression stuff. please avoid if that's something you need to avoid. nice next door neighbor ian comes through for him.

mickey’s fucking tired.

the bad kind. the kind of tired that he feels in the grooves of his bone marrow. it weighs his limbs down, leaves his head heavy, has him sinking down - back slouched into the canvas porch swing that was left on his balcony by the person before him.

he wonders if they ever did shit like this. here. if they ever felt so fucking tired that they couldn’t keep their eyes open before the sun’s even fully set. 

tired like mickey. the bad kind. 

the kind that’s got mandy up his ass, calling him and making sure he’s not being a total fuckup again. 

he’s not, for the record.

he went to work.

he ate dinner.

he took a shower and all that shit so it’s not bad-bad but god damn it, he’s tired. in his head. in his marrow. 

mickey slouches back, the swing creaking beneath him. it’s not really cold enough for a blanket but it feels good around him. keeps his bones from spilling out and rolling off of the balcony. keeps the wind at bay, only touching him to blow his bangs across his forehead and in front of his eyes - gently - the pieces that fell and never quite made it back up. 

he lets it happen. let’s his eyes close, the pressure around them heavy and unforgiving. 

even when the back door to the apartment next to him slides open.

wind.

weight.

“oh… hey…”

mickey doesn’t move. doesn’t suck it up and make it look like his shit is more together than it is, like he normally does for him. everything’s too heavy. 

all he does is nod once. eyes closed. head forward. hanging.

and there is a little part in the back of mickey’s head that wants to snap out of it. to look better. for him. but…

wind.

weight.

“you okay…?”

it washes over mickey with the breeze, from one balcony to the next. 

is he okay?

“yep…” he murmurs, and fucking christ, is it draining. like it’s taken all he’s got.

and he doesn’t even know if he heard him. over there. on his own balcony.

ian.

even if he didn’t hear him, he must be catching on quick. mickey knows he ain’t exactly the picture of mental fortitude right now, with his blanket and his closed eyes and all of his heavy bones.

he doesn’t say anything else.

ian.

but mickey can feel the attention.

he should look away if he knows what’s good for him. 

below them, a car passes slowly to pull into a driveway - tires gripping over loose pavement. 

wind.

weight.

and then the back door to the apartment next to him opens. and then it shuts.

mickey takes a long breath in, using the momentum to pull the blanket around him tighter. he’s gotta do it before everything spills out.

because he’s back to being alone again.

like usual.

was the person who lived here before him like this? alone like mickey and heavy like mickey and just so fucking tired…?

he takes in another deep breath through his nose, his lungs aching.

and then he hears it - the door opening next door.

and then he feels it - landing with a smack in his lap.

for what feels like the first time in days, mickey opens his eyes.

“got an extra…” comes floating from the balcony over, plastic wrap crinkling as ian leans his elbows against the railing that faces mickey’s.

another gust of wind, brushing bangs over mickey’s face as he blinks down at what’s waiting for him in his lap.

a cosmic brownie. 

“sister used to make me think these things were magic. like…medicine, or some shit.”

ian’s words are casual, but the weight behind them is obvious and it should be too much. should be the last straw, mickey’s body finally overwhelmed. 

but instead… 

he reaches out of the blanket, hand settling over the brownie, and not much else. he hasn’t thought that far ahead. “...thanks, man…”

ian hums, his mouth full. but mickey can hear the smile on his lips. 

it settles over them for a few moments, oddly comfortable. more comfortable than he’s really ever felt around him, at least. and he’s been trying to be around him more and more.

wind.

weight.

“can i come sit…?”

mickey glances over for the first time and it feels strange too. the movement. the sight of ian leaning against the railing, looking at him not like he’s being a fuck-up, but like he usually does. when mickey’s bones are lighter and the space behind his eyes doesn’t hurt so bad.

and he…wants to sit with him? 

ian?

here?

mickey frowns, his brain suddenly turning to how impossible standing to go unlock his front door is gonna be. 

but he’ll do it.

he’ll do it.

“uh… fine…lemme-”

but ian’s giving words back - saving him the trouble as he snags the end of the brownie wrapper between his teeth and then hooks a foot over the railing, using it as a stepping off point to leap over.

he lands on mickey’s balcony with a loud thunk and mickey’s chest flutters. something with his heartbeat. a startle. or something else. 

and when ian gets to his feet, he’s close and real and he’s got a gentle smile on his face, grabbing the brownie wrapper out of his mouth to say it. “hi.”

mickey wishes he wasn’t so tired. wishes he had enough energy to drag ian to hell and back, but it’s just not in the cards. not right now.

later.

so he takes a deep breath, scooting his body over a little so there’s room on the swing.

before he knows it, ian is filling the space. sitting next to him and saving him the trouble of conversation by shutting the fuck up first.

no expectation.

just existing.

mickey wraps the blanket around himself a little snugger, the brownie tucked safe in his hand.

for later. 

for now, he lets his eyes close again, heavy and exhausted.

but this time, he has someone to lean on, ian’s shoulder solid and reliable where he slumps to the side to lay his head.

[chaosology]

somebody else

— spencer reid x reader

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) /fem!reader

genre: angst part ii here | masterlist

content warnings: none? just bad writing, this is my first post :)

summary: heartbroken over maeve’s death, spencer snaps at the reader who happens to be in love with him, causing her to rethink her relationship with the resident genius

At only 24, Y/N had managed to become the youngest surgical intern at her hospital. She skipped grades and spent years of intense study in university completing her degree, all while juggling a psych class on the side. She had only taken it for fun of course, it was an interesting subject but it wasn't as hands on as the the thrills of surgery. Naturally, she had graduated top of her class with "record breaking" high marks, setting a scary new standard for the generations to come.

Half way through her intern year she was approached by FBI representatives, who were combing through the top 1% of potential candites. They assured her that the unit's headquarters were local and that she could come to the hospital three to four days a week, but would assist a team in tracking down and analysing potential criminals (or 'UnSubs" as the man so vehemently stressed). She was cautious at first, but they promised that it would look great on resumes and she could back out at any time. Eventually, she caved and agreed. Her friends and collegues at the hospital all supported her - after all, this was a once in a lifetime oppurtunity.

Before she was introduced to her new team, she was sent letters instructing her of what was expected. She was to complete a certain amount of hours at the gym, complete a fire arms assessment, a physical and a mental competency test. Probably to make sure I'm not a serial killer, she thought, but wouldn't that be ironic? She passed them all with flying colours (as to be expected) and was sent an email inviting her to an introductory dinner with the group. Whether they did this for everyone she didn't know, but she hoped they would welcome her with open arms and notthink less of her because of her age.

Immediatly when she met them she knew they were good people. They were walm and close and all around comforting . The biggest shock of all, however, was the young doctor Spencer Reid. She had never expected someone so close to her age to be working alongside her. She had heard about him from one of her professors in med school, who raved about one of his dissertations from Caltech. She never bothered to read it of course (who really cares about engineering, anyway?) but had always thought about the boy who had managed to capture the attention of her famously cold hearted teacher. She had assumed he would be cold, arrogent and stuck up, but instead her was awkward and clumsy. He told nerdy jokes that made only him laugh and treated her as an equal from the moment they met. From then on, she was consumed.

She eventually fell into a groove while working two jobs, balancing both her lives while simultaneously falling harder and harder for the boy who worked across from her. At first she thought it wasn't mutual, but as time passed she picked up on how he would often stay late to escort her to the bus stop and make sure to text to see if she was home safe. Or when he bought Doctor Who movies and sugary foods when she lost a beloved patient at the hospital. Or when he let her cry in his arms on the jet after a particurly tough case. She had overheard from Penelope that this was particurly unusual for the boy genius, who tended to avoid contact when possible (and if he did hug, there had to be a lot of years of trust and friendship built up mutually). When she pieced it all together, a thrill was sent through her body. Did he really like her back?

She never really had much luck with love. In eighth grade she recieved a rose on valentine's day in her locker from the boy she liked. As it turns out, he got the locker number wrong and intended it for her best friend. There was also her first year of college, where the boy she met on the orientation day insisted on walking her to and from all her classes. She brought him back for family Christmas and then noticed how he gravitated towards her older sister, wanting to hear all about her, leaving Y/N to sit at the table next to cousins she hadn't spoken to in months. It was always like this. A few months ago she thought she could pursue something with an attending at her hospital. He was a neurosurgeon that she clicked instantly with, but then she walked past the on-call room and heard him in an arguement with his girlfriend. Of course he was in a relationship, she had thought. Just her luck.

But of course, they didn't matter now. Spencer could be her everything. She knew it was important for the significant others of agents to understand the demand of their job, whic she did! They understood each other and would look at each other when they though the other wasn't watching. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, but the more time they spent together the more she thought about their future. Maybe he would shyly ask her on a date while they sat through a movie marathon. Myabe he would pick her up from the hospital at the end of her shift and tell her all about his day, his hand resting on her thigh while they sat at the traffic lights. Maybe he would grab her hand while they sat at the table where they first met and get down on one knee, asking her that one important question. Maybe he would tell her about the toxic properties in the paint she flicked it at him as they painted the bedroom the same light purple as his favourite shirt. Maybe, she thought. It had to be coming soon, his not-so-subtle glances were becoming even more obvious.

But then it slipped. It always slipped.

She first noticed his distraction while she told him all about the surgery she performed that day. Usually he would nod animatedly and interrupt to tell her a fact that even she didn't know. But as they stood outside the hospital entry (he offered to carpool every thursday), she couldn't help but wonder why he kept looking over at the payphone across the road. Maybe it was a one off? A tough day in the FBI isn't unheard of afterall, she thought. However, he continued his strange behaviour all the drive home. Uncomfortable silences followed by some unprompted facts about genetecists and their work. When he dropped her off outside her door, he told her he could no longer go through with their Thursday rituals. Something about scheduled phone calls, he said. He didn't make eye contact, either.

After a while, it was just her stealing the glances. She could no longer feel his gaze burning into the back of her head. When she would look at him, he was always smiling down fondly at his copy of 'The Narrative of John Smith'. In fact, he was always smiling. It was that same lovestruck smile she would recognise on herself when she looked in the mirror. A smile that definitley wasn't for her.

It was a windy day when Derek had finally called him out on it. The "Hey pretty boy, who's painted that smile on your face?" ringing out in the almost empty bullpen. She stiffened, looking up from her coffee and notes on the desk while discretely eavesdropping. "It's... It's nobody. Well, not nobody. Her name is Maeve. But don't say anything about it." He had whispered back. She had cracked. Her vision blurring the paper below her as she slowly stood and excused herself to the bathroom. Nobody had noticed her leaving.

She was the other girl. The somebody else.

She had always been a sacraficial person, which explained why she tearily offered herself as hostage instead of the beautiful Maeve Donovan. Like in eighth grade, when she sadly handed the rose back to her best friend. After all, she just wanted her to be happy. Or when she told her boyfriend to “go for it!” with her sister, even when they were still in a relationships. More than anything, she wanted the people around her to be happy. And as a doctor, she had a responsibility to keep those around her alive. So she threw herself in front of Spencer and towards the two women, landing unsteadily as she pleaded and cried. She couldn’t even here what she was saying, all the words a blur among the tears and rush of adrenaline. But what she dreaded most came next. The shrill cry of a bullet, the thud as Spencer fell to his feet in tears. Y/N stood still as time stopped. She looked around the room, feeling her breaths shorten by the second as the room started spinning. And then it all went black.

She had heard from JJ that he was ignoring everyone’s calls, only taking in gift baskets once he was sure the owner had left. In typical Spencer fashion, he was bottling himself and his feelings up. Surely for a man of his intelligence he knew it had to be a bad idea. She cared too much about him to let him suffer alone, and while she knew that facing him would cause her grief, she just had to see him. She knocked slowly on his door, calling out a soft “Spencer... It’s me. Y/N.” There was no answer, so she hesitantly took his spare key from his pocket and clicked open the door.

The apartment was dark, but she could still make out his figure wallowing on the couch. He was sitting upright surrounded by pillows and tissue boxes. There was the faint sound of the tv in the background, though she couldn’t make out what was on. “Spence... hey”, Y/N muttered. Her hand running up along the couch and onto the back of his neck. “Look, I know things are awful. And I can’t offer much, but if you need someone to cry on, to sit in silence with, I’m here. I know how it feels to live someone you love”. Her voice broke over the last few words but he didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. “She was amazing, Spence. Just let us help you. We can do whatever you want, just let us in... Please?”

He stayed silent. And as her hand started to move up his back, he snapped.

“Let you in? Let you in so you can do what? Get Maeve killed. You’ve done enough already, Y/N. Leave.” He yelled, standing up with enough force to send her scampering back. He was never the kind of guy to have a temper, and the slightest raise of his voice sent Y/N into a spiral. “It wasn’t the team that got her killed, Y/N. It was you”. The way he spit her name brought tear to her eyes, as if she was disgusting and worthless. “You walked in without backup. You, with no experience in negotiation. It’s like you wanted her dead.”

“Spencer, you know I would nev-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N! Her blood is on your hands, her parents lost a daughter because of you. It should’ve been you.”

“Please, Spence, you don’t mean that. You’ll work yourself up over it later, just please-”

“I do mean it. I wish it was you. Now leave”

“Spence-”

“Enough. Just leave. You’re no longer welcome here. You’re nothing to me.”

She had tried so hard to keep it together, but the venom behind his words was too much for her to take. She sobbed, grabbing her keys and walking towards the door. He had made himself clear.

“And on your way out, leave the keys. I don’t want you coming by again, Y/N.”

She paused, not daring to look back as she dropped them next to his wallet on the chest of drawers. She left without a word, holding it together until she got to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed she let out a loud sob, her hand coming to her mouth in an attempt to stay quiet. She knew he didn’t mean it, that he was overcome by grief and anger that was bottled up for too long and she just happened to be the victim. In a way, maybe it was better it was her so the others didn’t get their feelings hurt. It cut like glass, the way he referred to her as if she was so worthless. It cut deep.

Spencer had lost his love. And she had just lost hers.

She sniffled her way home and collapsed on the couch. She was too sad to cry, too tired to be angry. She almost felt nothing. She slept a dreamless sleep, feeling time pass her by as she later motionless in the dark room. It was peaceful in some ways.

When she awoke the next morning, she made sure to get there early. She marched straight into Hotch’s office and turned in her resignation. He could sense something was wrong but didn’t want to crack her already fragile state. When she was done clearing out her desk, the others had started to arrive. She embraced them all and promised to keep in touch. It had been an eventful few months she had told them, but it was time for her to go back to the hospital where she belonged. After all, it sounded better than “the man I love just shattered my heart into a million pieces by telling me I should have died, and now being around you all makes me physically sick.”

She looked back to her empty desk as the elevator doors shut. Maybe one day she would see Spencer again, when they were both healed, but for now she just had to grieve.

​

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another. — Thomas Merton

[edhelan-bouer]

Se a vida de EDHELAN BOUER fosse virar um filme, CONTROL de HALSEY com certeza faria parte da trilha sonora, tocando em seu aniversário de VINTE E TRÊS ANOS e acompanhando-a durante sua rotina como ATENDENTE NA GROOVE RECORDS, COMPOSITORA E CANTORA. Quem sabe até não justificaria o motivo DELA ser tão CRIATIVA, mas ao mesmo tempo tão VINGATIVA? Isso eu já não sei, mas acho que AVITAL LANGER ficaria ótima no papel!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ seu fervor incendeia. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ele irradia pressa em hipnotizar, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ atiça a fornalha. sua necessidade é se alimentar, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ a sede por fogo é tudo que vê.

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒆 ─── é uma mistura complexa de força, astúcia, determinação e vulnerabilidade. pode ser considerada uma jovem um pouco explosiva, apesar de se esforçar quando se trata do trabalho, já que é responsável com suas obrigações. se caso alguém cause um sentimento de desconforto em edhelan ela se lembrará de cada detalhe e até poderá usar isso contra a pessoa, já que além de possuir uma boa memória, ela é vingativa, sendo uma de suas barreiras emocionais que encontrou para se sentir segura.

confia em pouquíssimas pessoas, e as quais são premiadas com isso serão realmente pessoas de sorte. ela não é de expor sua vida pessoal, mas quando se tem uma proximidade maior com a pessoa pode revelar algumas coisas. por isso, dificilmente ela irá cair em uma lábia qualquer. por ser mentalmente instável muitas vezes acaba tomando decisões ruins, agindo pelos sentimentos momentâneos.

é uma mestre em utilidade, assim como os romanos, só cria algo se for para praticidade, e não só para enfeites. as vezes é comparada com uma pessoa fria e sem coração, o que de certo forma de aplica muito bem a garota. seu sorriso não é difícil de aparecer, mas nem sempre ele será verdadeiro. nunca foi de gostar de pessoas que a atrapalha quando está concentrada em algo importante, o que causa uma leve alteração em seu humor, ainda mais quando ela está compondo. gosta de curtir o momento sozinha.

o ruim de ser a garota, é simplesmente pelo fato de que ela não consegue muito bem comunicar com as pessoas com todo o trauma que passou em sua adolescência, o que a traz uma fama de anti-social, ou até mesmo antipática. involuntariamente ela acaba sendo, mas algumas vezes ela se esforça para não transparecer. sempre foi muito determinada, vai atrás de suas metas, e não espera ajuda de ninguém, muito menos espera um milagre. independente ao extremo, não aceita facilmente a ajuda das pessoas. assim como muitos, odeia que seu orgulho seja destruído, fazendo com que todas as coisas que diz sejam verdades, e não se deixa provar o contrário. mantém em mente sua meta, e até cumpri-la, não sossega nem um pouco.

𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 ─── tw: agressão; drogas; abuso; problemas familiares

edhelan bouer foi uma garota que cresceu em um lar bem problemático. o amor era uma palavra distante e desconhecida. seu pai após um deslize mental foi lentamente consumido pelo vício das drogas, transformando-se em uma presença sombria e ameaçadora em sua vida. não se recorda de como as coisas eram antes desse episódio. as palavras que saíam da boca de seu pai que ela ouvia quando era pequena eram como lâminas carregadas de desprezo. "você não deveria ter nascido", "ter você foi um erro". ele repetia incessantemente, e com o tempo, inconscientemente edhelan começou a acreditar que aquelas palavras eram verdade.

sua mãe, uma mulher pacífica e calorosa, havia se tornado uma figura apagada, com os ombros sempre curvados e os olhos sempre distantes. apesar de sua mãe tentar demonstrar que ela era amada e querida, muitas vezes ela descontava na filha, a afastando. um dos motivos que levou edhelan a aprender a guardar seus sentimentos, a esconder sua dor para não ser um fardo.

a maior tragédia da sua vida ocorreu com seus 10 anos, golpeando-a de forma irreparável. a única pessoa que ainda trazia algum conforto era sua mãe e ela faleceu repentinamente. ou não tão repentinamente. após uma noite em que pai voltou bêbado para casa, ed foi tentar confrontá-lo. claro que como uma criança ela não podia fazer nada, mas tudo aquilo a irritava profundamente. seu pai nunca havia batido nela antes, mas nesse dia ele fez. sua mãe, num ato desesperado, tentou pará-lo, causando mais ódio e briga. na manhã seguinte, a notícia. o choque foi devastador para uma criança de apenas 10 anos. edhelan não entendia o que estava acontecendo mas se culpou. logo após o ocorrido seu pai desapareceu. toda essa situação fez com que ela se sentisse como se estivesse afundando em um abismo sem fundo. como não possuía familiar que cuidaria dela, foi enviada para um orfanato, um lugar que se tornou o palco de seus piores pesadelos.

o local para onde edhelan foi enviada era um lugar frio e desumano. infelizmente ela não nasceu com a sorte ao seu favor. as regras do orfanato eram rígidas e inflexíveis, e as crianças eram tratadas como números, não como seres humanos. ainda em choque pela perda recente, foi forçada a se adaptar rapidamente a essa nova realidade.

a vida no orfanato era solitária. as outras crianças, muitas delas marcadas por suas próprias tragédias, eram agressivas ou simplesmente indiferentes. a amizade era um luxo que edhelan não podia se permitir, pois ela já havia aprendido que se apegar a alguém só levava à dor. ss adultos responsáveis pelo orfanato eram distantes, focados em manter a ordem, e não em oferecer apoio emocional. demonstrar sentimentos era um risco que a garota não podia correr.

foi lá que ela começou a buscar uma forma de escapar de sua realidade. durante as noites silenciosas no orfanato, enquanto as outras crianças dormiam, ela ficava acordada, criando melodias em sua mente. no início, era apenas um murmúrio, uma forma de se acalmar em meio ao caos. mas, com o tempo, a música se tornou algo mais profundo, uma forma de expressão onde ela podia derramar todas as emoções que era forçada a reprimir durante o dia.

edhelan somente tinha acesso a um piano antigo. fez muito para merecer poder aprender a tocá-lo. além disso, ela inventava canções, escrevia letras na mente, e essas composições se tornaram sua única companhia verdadeira. cada melodia era uma fuga, uma viagem para longe do orfanato, para longe de uma vida que parecia destinada a ser apenas dor e sofrimento.

conforme foi crescendo e os hormônios foram tomando conta, surgiu algumas momentos de rebeldia, como uma resposta à dor que sentia. se tornou uma adolescente difícil, desafiando a autoridade dos cuidadores do orfanato e recusando-se a seguir as regras. era a única forma que ela tinha de sentir que ainda tinha algum controle sobre sua vida. mas essa rebeldia não era apenas uma revolta superficial; era um grito desesperado por ajuda, por alguém que pudesse entender a angústia que ela carregava.

até completar seus 18 anos tentou não ser adotada. não queria viver num lar que para ela era apenas uma ilusão. após atingir a maioridade deixou o orfanato, mas as cicatrizes emocionais estavam profundamente gravadas em sua alma. nesse meio tempo ela recebia uma mesada por ajudar nas tarefas domésticas e conseguiu juntar um bom dinheiro para se mudar para uma kitnet. após um tempo, encontrou por acaso a groove records e conseguiu conseguiu um emprego como atendente. estar cercada por música era uma forma de se manter conectada à única coisa que a havia mantido viva durante todos aqueles anos.

edhelan continuou a compor e a cantar, utilizando as noites para se apresentar em pequenos bares locais. suas músicas, carregadas de emoção, raramente eram compreendidas pelo público, mas para ela, essas apresentações eram vitais. cada vez que subia ao palco, ela sentia que estava exorcizando um pouco da dor que ainda carregava.

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 ─── nasceu e cresceu em bray; participa bastante do cineclube.

[dustedmagazine]

Mope Grooves — Box of Dark Roses (12XU)

Box of Dark Roses presents the final 27 songs written, arranged and recorded by trans activist and musician stevie (Pohlman), a massive two-LP set that showcases her DIY art, passionate engagement and close links to other trans advocates, poets and revolutionaries.

Mope Grooves emerged in Portland, Oregon in the late teens, with a brash but vulnerable guitar rock sound and a message, from the beginning, about gender identity, inclusion and mental health. Their early albums, Joy and Vanished from 2017 and 2018 respectively, bristled with punk energy, with shouted anthems and loose-slung, infectious melodies. Dusted’s Jason Gioncontere called Desire, the band’s fourth album, “their most cohesive set yet,” late in 2019. And Portland’s Ben Parrish who caught them early and fell hard, wrote of an early show, “And Mope Grooves—Pohlman’s band—broke my brain. Imagine if somebody ran records by The Raincoats, The Clean, Beat Happening, Tyvek, and Marine Girls through a wood chipper and glued the pieces into a new super-record.”

Musically, Box of Dark Roses is more keyboard- and synthesizer-based than Mope Grooves’ earlier album, an uneasy sweetness percolating in its gentle melodies. The soft pretty songs are, in some ways, the most disturbing. “Forever Is a Long Time” pits tootling organ riffs against a sing-song melody, but sharpens the edge with rattling, off-kilter drumming. “Aileen” floats hauntingly graceful vocals over space-video-game pinging and rushing drums. “They’ll tell you you’re a criminal for paying them back in kind, but in the dark, in the wild, in the heart of the night, it is right to fight,” sings band member Lee. It’s a bracing sentiment in a song dedicated to Aileen Wuornos, a sex worker from Florida who killed seven of her clients, purportedly in self-defense. And “I’m Tired All the Time,” with its music box chimes, spiraling fiddle and slapping, just-behind-the-beat percussion, is a lullaby or a suicide note, depending on how you hear it.

Politics turn more explicit in the tracks with extensive spoken word incorporated. Marilyn Buck, the poet and May 19 Communist organization revolutionary best known for freeing Assata Shakur from the Clinton Correctional Facility for Women in New Jersey, speaks on a handful of cuts, including the opener “Controlled Burn” and “Here Comes the Moon.” The song “Continuity and Intensity,” tells the story of the Black Liberation Army’s Kuwasi Balagoon, who, when put on trial, declared, “We have a right to resist, to expropriate money and arms, to kill the enemy of our people, to bomb, and do whatever else aids us in winning, and we will win. The foundation of the revolution must rest on the bones of the oppressors.” The song “Dora” recites a detailed account of gender oppression in Weimar, Germany and the suppression of Magnus Hirschfeld’s Institute for Sexual Research.  The ratio of polemic to hook is pretty high on these tracks, but these were issues that mattered to stevie, and, as such, they belong here.

Box of Dark Roses was made near the end of stevie’s life (she killed herself in 2024), after a long struggle against gender dysphoria, physical and mental health issues, poverty and sporadic homelessness. In a lengthy, revealing essay included as liner notes, she writes, “I funded the recording process and the deposit on my surgeries by submitting my body to hyper-exploitation. I worked vanilla jobs 40-70 hours a week most of the time before relying increasingly on the informal economy. I was frequently in severe pain and losing work from chronic disabling illnesses that are aggravated by intense labor.”

And yet, though her suffering was real, she never lost sight of how much worse off others could be, particularly black and brown trans people. Before her death she stipulated that all profits from Box of Dark Roses should go to “gender marginalized survivors incarcerated as punishment for defending themselves, either directly to their fundraisers/commissary funds or thru the Survived and Punished NY mutual aid fund.”   This is a difficult, important record, a whole different experience from Mope Grooves’ earlier lo-fi garage albums, but well worth making time for.

Jennifer Kelly

[f1uffy-turtle-fanfic]

My Love, Mine All Mine

Ao3

It's been about a month since Luz and Amity had finished renovating the shack. While they could have moved in with Eda and Raine in The Owl House, Luz didn't want to impose. Eda insisted regardless that she inherits the house once she and Raine pass on or retire to Palm Stings -- whichever came first (Luz was assuming the latter, although Eda might not wish to retire from the University). Since Luz didn't know how else to respond, she gave her a hug. Eda was like a second mother to Luz, and she proved that more and more each day.

Luckily, the shack was far away enough from any city lights, so they were able to enjoy the night together in all of its splendor. The stars in the night sky danced across its indigo canvas as Amity leaned over the newly built balcony and took in the fresh forest air. The smell of pine and fresh rain water mixed with soil -- creating a much more pleasant scent than the forests of the Boiling Isles which smelled mostly of sulfur. Dew rested on the pine needles and slid down before falling on blades of grass and meeting with the puddles of rain.

A smile colored Amity's face. At first, all those years ago, she was afraid of the rain in the Human realm. Even after she crossed the portal that night and felt the cold water seep into her clothes, she couldn't help but be afraid that it would eventually boil again. But now the rain comforted her. She felt the dampness of the pressure-treated lumber under her forearms as she leaned in and sighed.

The door creaked open and Amity melted as she felt Luz embrace her from behind. “How is the night treating you, sweet potato?” She asked.

“Better, now that you're here,” Amity sighed and she turned her head to kiss her awesome wife.

It was like they spent an eternity in that peaceful bliss as they leaned into each other. Luz wrapped her arms tighter around Amity’s waist and in that moment, all their troubles faded like they were never there. Renovations -- classes -- none of that stress could compare to that moment they shared together underneath the moonlight.

Once they pulled away, Amity couldn’t help but gaze into Luz's eyes. Those beautiful, deep brown eyes. The stars reflected across those irises as if they performed a ballet as beautiful as the woman those eyes belonged to.

“So,” Luz asked, “what do we do now?”

“Savor the moment,” Amity whispered dreamily, leaning into the crook of Luz's neck, “I want this moment to last forever.”

“Me too,” She told her and pressed her lips against Amity's cheek.

They stood there for a moment as Luz took a mental snapshot of her surroundings. Dew drops landing in puddles. The songs of crickets and cicadas. Altogether they played a symphony in the night and gave Luz an idea.

She kissed her wife again but pulled away quickly and Amity looked back at her, worried.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

“No,” Luz reassured her, “nothing’s wrong.” Her fingers flipped through the vinyls she kept until she found a single and pulled it out. Luz carried it over to the turntable and lifted away the cover. As Luz pinched at the edge if the vinyl to unsheathe it, she felt the static in the air discharge into her finger. She took off the cover on the needle and carefully placed the vinyl disc on the spindle with the adaptor attached. Once she turned the dial to switch the power on, the record began to spin. Luz delicately lifted the needle and set it on the outer grooves, to which the speakers responded with a pop and some static before it stabilized.

The sound of music began to paint the air of the forest under moonlight. A soft piano, quiet cymbals, and a guitar played as Luz took Amity’s hand in hers and her other arm around her waist. Amity’s lips widened into a soft smile again as she followed suit and they began to sway with the music.

Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shining down on me

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?

As they danced, heat spread across Amity’s face and she buried her nose into Luz’s neck. Luz responded with a smile and kissed her wife in turn.

‘Cause my love

Is mine, all mine

I love

Mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world

Belongs to me

But my love

Mine, all mine, all mine

The piano played an interlude, accompanying the moon as its light shone on the young couple as they danced on the balcony. Their home, their love, their life.

“Is this all you ever wished for?” Luz whispered into Amity’s ear.

“And so much more,” Amity smiled.

“We only have the rest of our lives ahead of us.”

“And eternity after that,” she added.

“Then why don’t we make the most of it?”

Amity parted from Luz and studied the moonlight that shone on her face, illuminating the curves of her cheeks and the tip of her round nose. She’s beautiful, she thought, and my love is mine, all mine.

She leaned in and pressed her lips against Luz’s once again. And there they danced under the stars, both of them wondering how lucky they were to be together now and for evermore.

My baby, here on Earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

'Cause my love

Is mine, all mine

I love

Mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love

Mine, all mine

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love

Mine, all mine, all mine

[saintlaurentproblems]

I know Shawn canceled his tour due to his mental health, but I think that really screwed things up with him and Island records because he had a lot of sponsorship, including a Disney+ doc that he was supposed to do and island probably felt that was a lot of money that went to waste, even though they seemed like they were supportive of him. And now that he’s releasing a new song and a new album, it seems like the label isn’t promoting him the way they used to. So, it’s either they just don’t wanna promote him because they’re too focused on Sabrina or it was his decision to take a step back from doing promo because he just doesn’t want to do stuff like that anymore and is still trying to get into the groove of things. Either way I believe all of the funding that he would’ve gotten is going to Sabrina Carpenter. They just got Jenna Ortega to be in her new music video for her album release. 😭

Yes and isn’t island records suppose to be ending soon? Or am I thinking of another label

[grrl-operator]

Bleeps, Breaks + Bass [CD]

[vynssweater]

An Evening Dance

_

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“ 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . . “

♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

┆彡

__

It had been a long week of nonstop work. You were busy at the law firm with cases, with both the special ones and the regular ones mixed in. Your boyfriend, Vyn, was also busy at his mental health research center all week. You were both exhausted. It was now a Friday night with you staying at his home. You were in his room after changing into some pajamas in the bathroom, which was now occupied by him doing the same. His bedroom’s green walls were familiar as well as all the landscape paintings decorating it. Walking to his shelves decorated with a variety of books, you stand to the shelf next to his phonograph that was filled with old vinyl records he’s steadily collected.

Your fingers delicately flipped through each one, noticing many of them were classical music instrumentals or some albums from the 70s. It wasn’t all that surprising to you considering many things of Vyn’s had an antique and elegant aura to it. It was a very unique taste in a place like Stellis.

You only look away from the collection when you hear the bathroom door open and see your boyfriend come out of it dressed in his night attire. He looked ready for bed, but he noticed what you were looking at and smiled. “Did any peak your interest?” He asked while walking over to where you were.

“I don’t recognize a lot of these.. They’re older than we are.” You giggled, earning one from him in return as he nodded and pulled out one of the records. He soon spoke up. “We both had a long week of work, so how about we unwind a little?” He suggested while slipping the record from its cover.

You tilted your head in curiosity as Vyn delicately placed the large black disk on the phonograph, raising the arm and allowing the needle to rest in the grooves that played the music when spun. Soon the soft melodies of an orchestra filled the room, fitting its atmosphere perfectly. He turned to you afterward and offered a hand toward you with a soft smile. “Would you give me the honor of sharing a dance?”

Your face blossomed with warmth as he took your hand and pulled you close. Your hands stayed connected while his other went to your waist and your other free hand rested on his bicep. In slow movements, you moved in a circle between the white piano and the phonograph. It really did feel like you were at a ball with him. You were lost in his starry gold eyes as it continued.

Vyn was quite good at this, despite you not sure when he would be able to learn to dance this way. You were a bit clumsy, but he held you. He didn’t mind your trip ups and mishaps, just smiling in soft amusement instead. You don’t know how long you danced or how long that side of the record was. Time seemed to slow for you both to find a moment to enjoy each other’s company. The music faded more as all your focus stayed on him and his gorgeous features. You only remembered reality when the needle found the end of the disk and played a soft static in response.

Vyn gently placed a kiss on your lips, slowly releasing you now that it was done. “Thank you for the dance, my love.” He smiled affectionately before he retrieved the record and delicately placed it back in its cover. You walked up behind him, hugging him and feeling his pajamas slowly with your face buried into his back.

“Can you show me another one tomorrow night?”

“I can show you as many as your heart desires to hear with me.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

One of my favorite things about Vyn is the fact he collects vinyl records, cause I do it. I just imagine a huge shelf full of them in his room. I’m so jealous-

I had to write SOMETHING about it. I need it to exist somewhere. I just really liked the thought of dancing in pajamas to a record. After this I’m about to go put one of mine on cause I just really liked this little scene in my head- hope you enjoyed it too!

ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

[saltedteas]

>🎶✨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to. then whatever

my city now. Thanks @deneviere.

I. Cat - Milgram

People in a specific discord server got me into this song, and it’s a good one. Real jazzy, love the middle call and response bit, plus the mv and attached lore is real fun. You can make a compelling argument that the singer’s “I can’t stop, I can’t be normal” and other lyrics are him hiding his homosexuality and I agree! That’s a gay old man right there and i refuse to believe otherwise. The mv is just really good, there’s a lot to dissect and the art styles pretty fire. When Deco27 hits, Deco27 hits.

II. Arm Candy - Record Heat

On the list of songs on my huge liked playlist that I call “Manwhore Monday songs”. Got a push and pull feel to it that’s fun to jam to while doing tasks around the place. Makes me envision a little guy doing a stupid little dance, and if I could dance this would be a fun one to dance to, I’d bet. But the dance has to specifically be in a weird little gay way that makes you want to shout go white boy go at the dancer, grooving in place.

III. Flower Power Madness - Royal Republic

Another manwhore monday song to me, got that groove to it. Disco rock is a really good music style. If I could sing, this would be a fun one to sing.

IV. Hot Mess - Friday Pilots Club

“SHES A HOT MESS - 150 DOWN THE HIGHWAY IN A SUNDRESS / WATCH HER BURN IT UP, IM BEARING WITNESS / CAUSE IF SHE SAID I LOOK BETTER, DOWN THE BARREL OF A BERETTA - OH, I COULDNT PROTEST”

A fun song! Super high energy, makes the brain envision a lot of scenes. The rhythm goes hard.

V. Ejanaika - Dannie May

Do y’ever have songs that you listen to and the mental amv goes so hard it ends up being a song you listen to while working on a world, because for me, this is one of those songs. I always set it on when I’m trying to draw anything related to Mao the apprentice exorcist pheasant or anything in her world, because I have a whole amv in my mind centered around this song and her. Again, rhythm goes hard, and if the translated lyrics are anything to go by, whole songs fire.

Honorable Mentions:

- Hectopascal, because Bloom into You was good

-Supermassive Automatic by Kick the Robot, because high energy songs are fun to try and sing

-Anything by Mili. Self explanatory.

ain’t tagging anyone but if you wanna do one go ahead lol

[nematanthus]

Album Review: Infinity On High- Fall Out Boy

Release Date:

February 6 2007

Tracklist:

Thriller

"The Take Over, The Breaks Over"

This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

Hum Hallelujah

Golden

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

The (After) Life Of The Party

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love

Bang The Doldrums

Fame < Infamy

You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears But None On My Fingers

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

Favorite Track:

You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

Least favorite track:

The (After) Life Of The Party

Album art opinions:

While the album cover itself may not make a lot of sense as a visual component, the chaos of it fits the vibe of the record very well. The tone of the album swings wildly from high energy sarcastic and fun tracks to melancholy depressed ones with little to no rhyme or reason as to why the songs are arranged in the fashion that they are, and the mishmash of objects in the starry blue room tie that together rather well. The blue color itself also calls to several songs in the album where they mention the color blue, whether it's in reference to eyes, feelings, or something else entirely (looking at you, Hum Hallelujah). Take This To Your Grave is the only other Fall Out Boy Album cover that uses a predominantly blue background, but since that one uses a much brighter blue than this one, they can't easily be mistaken for one another.

Color: 9/10

Recognizability: 5/10

Vibes: 7/10

Total: 7/10

Music opinions/notes:

As mentioned in the art section, the tone of this album swings wildly between tracks, which can be upsetting while listening through the album, as you get stuck in a groove and then it gets upset by something sad and then once again right back into the high energy tracks, it makes sense as to what I believe they were trying to achieve with this album. Yes, life is good and fun and everything like that, but that doesn't always mean your mental health will be. This album came at the peak of early Fall Out Boy fame, and they have everything to show for it. Good production quality, fun and interesting song meanings, clever wordplay, this album is a near no skip for me. From iconic tracks that you can't help but to love, like Thnks fr th mmrs and This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race, to deeper cuts that still bring the energy and Fall Out Boy sound that has cemented itself at this time, like Fame < Infamy and The Carpal Tunnel Of Love, this album brings to the table what I consider the quintessential Fall Out Boy vibe.

Vibes: 9/10

Mix: 9/10

Lyrics: 8/10

Instruments: 8/10

Total: 8/10

Total Score:

7/10