#I was in 8th grade when this song came out

[abra-ka-dammit]

a video of a comedian with tourette's crossed my dash a couple days ago and i keep thinking about it because i realized id never actually.... experienced someone with tourettes? like it was a Concept in my mind that i knew existed and was out there but i'd never encountered it, and finally seeing it happen with a real life person was... idk, kinda jarring? because watching him i was like. yeah... if i didnt know what was going on id be pretty freaked out by that thing he keeps doing. and since my main touchpoint of tourette's knowledge was a south park episode largely mocking it, i only had a vague idea of what a real person with tourette's was like. obvs i knew it was more than randomly screamed obscenities but written descriptions of tics really dont do the actual acts justice when seen live, so it really was like. being slapped in the face with A New Thing I Don't Understand--which of course depending on the person can either lead to fear-based hate or acceptance of the new thing. i like to try to be the latter person.

and in my life, honestly just plain exposure has almost always been what makes me emotionally connect with "minority" groups, especially of the medical variety. its easy not to empathize with groups you don't belong to if you never actually have to see or hear them. it's easy to hate, then, too. without exposure to them, "people with tourette's" can just be a theoretical group of people you don't need to care about, because hey they must not number enough to matter because you don't think you've ever met one. hell, maybe they're not even real! but being introduced to real people who are Real Dementia Patients, Real Autistics, Real Tourette's Havers, etc.... seeing their human faces, hearing their human voices, seeing their movements and behaviors, learning about who and what they are and their experiences as that minority from their own lips; it helps you see them as human, and their status a human one.

theres not really an ending thought here. just having that wild experience of seeing something atypical "in real life" and coming to terms between my instinctual "what the fuck" and my logical "he has a disorder" to meet at "that's a person with a life experience I will never have or truly understand but i have no reason to discriminate against them for it, because they're really just another person"

[natashaslesbian]

Birthday Cake

Summary: Clint comes to watch your end of semester show, but there’s someone missing

Word Count: 522

A/N: I’m sorry this one hurts

————

“Well done Amanda that was a beautiful poem” your grade school teacher said as she guided the audience in applause. Today was your schools end of semester assembly, in which they asked a number of the kids to perform poems and songs of sorts to their family members. “Next up we have y/n Romanoff reading ‘my hero’ “ you had been picked to read out something you had written in class a few weeks ago and you were rather nervous. The audience welcomed you up with small applause as you came up to the microphone at the front of the stage. You coughed quietly before beginning. “My hero is my mommy, and my mommy is an angel” you shyly said. There were a few quiet gasps as people put two and two together. You were the black widows daughter, Natasha Romanoffs daughter.

You fiddled with your crumpled paper as you continued to read “my mommy is my hero because she saved the world. She gave me the best cuddles and told the best stories. My mommy is my hero because she was funny and pretty.” The room was silent as you spoke and the air felt heavy. You had sobbed so much that you were numb now, which is why you were confused when you saw Clint quietly crying in the audience. “My…my mommy is my hero because…uncle Clint?” You mumbled as a silent tear escaped your eye. You quickly wiped it away as you looked around the room, watching strangers sobbing at your misery. All those sad looks, all the pity, suddenly it all came back.

You pushed the microphone over as you ran down off the stage. “Leave me alone!” You cried as your teacher reached for you. She stood in sorrow as Clint ran down the hallway after you. Your little feet kept moving until your uncle caught up. “Y/n stop sweetheart” Clint said as he gently grabbed your arm “no!” You screamed as you tried to twist out of his hold. “I want mama not you!” You sobbed. Clint knew you didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that washed over him. If he could bring Natasha to you he would, and he tried. “I know you do” he said as he pulled you into his arms “but she’s not here y/n, I’m sorry” the archer cried, feeling responsible for all of your pain.

You flung your tiny fists about as Clint held you close “I’m sorry” he kept repeating. “Why did you leave her there?” You sobbed into Clint’s arms “why didn’t you bring her back to me?” You desperately asked. “I’m sorry y/n, I’m so sorry” Clint cried, wishing more than anything he could fulfil your wishes. He knew it was his fault, it was his fault that Natasha wasn’t there to watch your performance, his fault that she wouldn’t ever see you go to high school. Clint knew it was his fault that Natasha wouldn’t be making your 8th birthday cake - the one she baked every year. Little did you know that the last one, would be the last one.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @kkreader78o / @hatergirl-69 / @asv-xx

[ciaomarie]

Chapter 2: Getting to Know You

I recently wrote a post-season 2 story about Carmy helping with Sydney's apartment search. I wanted to back track a little to get into his head space just after the Friends and Family almost disaster, but prior to the apartment hunt, during which he is hopelessly crushing on Sydney. Mostly, it's backstory and gives more context to why Carmen is who he is :)

When Carmy stumbled frozen and broken out of the walk-in the night of Friends and Family, Sydney was waiting for him. However, something in his eyes made her reconsider whatever she had been planning to say. She pointed him to sit on floor against a stove she had turned on and made him hot tea. Wordlessly she sat on the floor next to him until he finished. When he tried to speak, nothing came out. His icy mottled fist began to circle his chest, but Sydney closed her hand over his.

"We'll start over again tomorrow."

Weeks later Carmen asked her why she hadn't quit that night. She said "Your face…it looked like mine did when I lost Sheridan."

In return she had asked him what happened with Claire and if it had been her fault.

"No. She thought she knew me, but she didn't and honestly, we didn't have anything in common."

The more Carm thought about Claire the sorrier he felt about how he'd behaved and the less he regretted the break-up. Claire was his high school dream girl. She was always kind to him, despite being able to mingle in nearly every clique at school. She was as comfortable with the student government club, as she was with the skaters. Everyone liked her and for no apparent reason she frequently stopped at his locker to ask if he had gum or invite him to study. So he always kept a pack of gum for her, but was too shy to join her study group. Once she and two of her friends ambushed him after school and convinced him to come to a party the night prior to graduation. He decided he might as well not end his high school career without ever having gone to one. The party was held in woods behind one of the football player's homes. There was a bonfire, cheap beer, too few cups, and couples making out or swaying to "Die in Your Arms".

Claire found a clean Solo cup and they shared a drink as she gazed into his eyes.

"I love this song"

"Yeah…it's popular".

Natalie had been playing Justin Bieber non-stop for the last few years and Carm was almost willing to give up all music if he never had to listen to him sing another note.

He didn't remember the rest of the conversation, but at some point Claire kissed him. 12 years later when they began dating she brought up the night of the party and how he looked so surprised and blushed.

"You were so cute. I bet it was your first kiss!"

"No, but almost" he said a little taken aback. As pleased as he was that Claire was interested, he felt like her project. Something about their relationship reminded him of a cheesy 80's teen movie. Too sweet. Not enough acid.

He could have saved them both a lot of trouble if he'd not given her any number, much less a fake one. But it was Claire, the brilliant, fearless, beautiful girl he'd used to sketch over and over again and she wanted HIM. He liked her so much back then. She went off to Michigan State and he began peeling mushrooms at a restaurant eventually becoming Carmen Berzatto "the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America."

But before Claire, in 7th grade summer school, there was Kyla Branson. Carmy needed to take 7th grade math again before they'd pass him to 8th grade and Kyla was a transfer student. She had just finished 6th grade, and was taking 7th grade math and English early, because she was a pianist. A whole freakin' prodigy that would be touring with Eric Clapton later that fall. The math teacher had told the class, much to Kyla's obvious discomfort.

On the third day the class split into pairs to do an assignment and Carmy and Kyla were paired. He could barely look at her. Kyla had thick curly eyelashes which framed her large black brown eyes, her hair was usually brushed up into a soft coily bun like a ballerina, she wore small white diamond earrings in her shockingly small ears, and she had an heart-breakingly cute overbite that showed whenever she smiled. Carmy was gone over this little black girl. She was very shy too, but an overachiever so she persevered in making him talk enough to get the work done.

Once she saw his sketches on the back of his notebook and said he was artist. Using his best charcoal pencils he drew a portrait of her in the privacy of the attic at home. On the last day of summer school he gave it to her when class dismissed and dashed out of the room, his face redder than Heinz ketchup. Kyla caught up with him outside and grabbed his hand leading him out of the view of the car pick-up line.

"Thank you Carmen. I think you're beautiful too" Kyla whispered and kissed him full on the mouth. For three seconds. Then she ran back to the car pick up line, got into her parent's car and Carmen never saw her again.

Once he thought he saw her. The eyes and overbite were startling familiar, but the name was different. It was the day that Sydney Adamu walked into The Beef. It was the day that someone saw who he really was again.

[weaselle]

let's talk racist algorithms

i have a weird relationship with music for reasons i won't get into, but as an example, despite loving music, i have not been able to make myself listen to music on purpose in about 6 months. Music is weird for me. BUT I DO LOVE IT

I'm a poet, if i'm really feeling myself i'd even say i'm a word-smith, so rap has a really special place in my heart

The first rap artists i heard and bought an album from them on tape cassette and would listen to all the time were Snoop Dogg, McHammer, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince (that's Will Smith for you young ones) De La Soul, and Vanilla Ice

This was 7th and 8th grade. Rap was the new rock, the kids were going wild for it, and because my school let students select the lunchtime PA music, Vanilla Ice was played at lunch almost every day at school.

We had zero black students at that school.

(I still remember the exact day Vanilla Ice stopped being popular at school, but that's about the severe homophobia of the time and a different story)

Now let's come back to today. When I listen to music it's often on Youtube, or Pandora. And i noticed a problem with these platforms pretty early on.

See, I had taken a big break from rap. Like i said, i have a weird relationship to music i don't have time to get into, but i didn't pay much attention to what was happening in rap for a long time. I'd had a friend who was excited to get me to geek out over Eminem with her a few times, and i went through a phase where i was in love with Digable Planets (high key recommend if you like an indie feel with a smooth jazz sound and east coast vibes)... I had a secret love for that one verse by Left Eye in Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls, could sing every word of Shoop, and i adored every Missy Elliot song that i heard on the radio. And that was about it. As a lyricist myself, the one that stuck in my head the most from this time was eminem, because lyricism is his whole thing.

I don't go to concerts. I don't buy albums. I tend to like specific songs more than specific artists. I know, i know, but that's not the point. When i can listen to music without it fucking me up mentally, I listen to music on Youtube and Pandora

And lyricism is my main attraction to rap, so when i came back to it on Youtube I put in Eminem first.

And right away, Youtube started recommending other rappers to me. And very quickly, i discovered that i was being recommended mostly white rappers.

I really like Hopsin, I went through a Dumbfounddead phase, i was into Dax for a minute, i like Domo Wilson, the J. Cole songs i like I REALLY like, I'm obsessed with Snow tha Product, I love the first Janelle Monae album i heard, i still fangirl over Missy Elliot, it's no surprise i like Joyner Lucas...

All of these i discovered and listened to via Youtube.

But because i like eminem, because I had a phase where i enjoyed a couple indie artists like Watsky, Wax, and Dan Bull, and because my depressed ass was drawn to NF and now a little Ren, when Youtube recommends rap artists to me, 90% of the algorithm recommendations are white artists. White men, specifically.

I had a similar problem with Pandora.

I actually had to create a special Pandora station that i seeded with three black artists and then ONLY liked non-white artists AND disliked every white artists that came up, just to get a station that wouldn't turn itself into a white rap channel.

It makes me furious, because i don' want to care about who is a white artist and who is a black artist!!!! I just want to listen to music that i like!!! But these bullshit music platforms make me have to care a lot about who is white and who is black just to not be pushed into racist music tastes and i fucking hate it.

And, if i'm being super honest, one reason i really hate it is because i know i probably really do have some internal racist tendencies when it comes to music, because i was raised white in america, and i really resent having to fight these fucking algorithms instead of, idk, being helped by them. I need to be able to look at my feed and assess it for my own unacknowledged racism... like, if there was no algorithm, and i looked at my music history and saw all white artists, i could be like, OH. I need to look in the mirror about this. But instead i have to play this weird tug-a-war with the platform about it and i can't tell what's my own deficiency and what is being forced on me. But SOME of it is being forced on me.

I mean for fucks sake, Snow tha Product does half her lyrics in spanish and the algorithm sees me love her and STILL recommends mostly white men. Hundreds of hours of listening to her, and zero spanish artist recommendations. Its infuriating.

Anyway, if you're curating your music tastes mostly online, and you start with white artists at all, then you really really gotta work to not fall deep into the bias.

And if that's what's happening with the music, how much more insidious must the social commentary content bias be

[thedevilsoftruth]

Here's some fucking Marc Spector hcs or whatever tf because I'm crazy.

New wave girlie. Mfs theme song in The Midnight Mission was literally The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen. You can't look at him and tell me he isn't in the shower and screaming the lyrics to Policy of Truth by Depeche Mode.

Played the drums for a little bit. He needed a new hobby to distract himself but he could never get into it.

Mf does not trim his beard or cut his hair. Steven has to do it because Jake isn't any better at shaving either. " Ah, the ladies love it " he says as an excuse.

" Steven I need a new suit, please help. "

Please don't call him. My bro does NOT like being called. Just text him, mf 😭

Ear gauges. Because I said so. He has an eyebrow slit, so he needs ear gauges to go with it.

After Marc began seeing Khonshu when he was 12, he began slowly becoming more hostile to people at school. Especially in 8th grade. he got into a lot of fights with people and kind of ruined his reputation for a bit until he got into high school. His parents had to change districts.

Hairy ass mf legs. My man is a monster when he's in control of the body because his body hair grows back like... Really quick and he doesn't want to do anything about it.

He did taekwondo when he was 8-13. (No, this is not me self inserting)

He loves cats. One time after a really big fight, he sat by a dumpster and called Frenchie to come get him and help patch him up, but a really fat calico with a few fresh scratch marks came and sat next to him, and he adopted it. Frenchie was really confused when they got in the car. " Who's the cat? " " His name is Frank. " Poor franks white fur was covered in his own blood and Marcs. Looks like Marc wasn't the only one getting patched up that night.

One of his dream occupations when he was a kid was to be an areospace engineer.

Used to have baseball days with his dad. They'd watch games together at restaurants n stuff.

Thriller movie guy.

Khonshu decided to punish him and strip him away of some of his powers because Marc refused to do a mission and finally expressed to him about how he felt abused, so when he went into the dangerous mission, he came out partially blind.

His first car was a Ford f150.

Hates California. Hates Texas even more.

Eats lucky charms for breakfast, even as a 38 year old man.

" Steven why the fuck do you need apple airpods and how does this benefit killing Scarlet Scarab? "

He has a habit of catching things that fall with his feet. One time Marlene dropped a knife when they were cooking dinner together and he tried to catch it with his foot and um... Blood was shed.

Went on a double date to the state fair with Marlene and Frenchie & Rob. made Frenchie take all the pictures and carry their food, Marc threw up on grass after going on a dinosaur ride for shits and giggles. Also because he ate too many doughnuts. He loves doughnuts, man. They also went and watched a duck race and Marc participated and let one of the ducks go and his duck won. He was very excited about getting a smiley face sticker and a rubber duck. He gave Marlene the rubber duck.

He is absolutely bisexual, I don't care what you say. You can't look at him and Frenchie ( and the punisher ) and tell me they weren't at least a little gay for each other.

[yourwitchybrother]

Apollo, My Beloved

Perhaps I couldn't wait any longer before I finally addressed my beloved patron and godspouse. Both of which are terms I will define in this post. Apollo has been part of my life, well... since birth! Being my Patron, he has been around for all of it. He's seen me at my best and at my worst, he's seen me through my relationships and my hardships. He saw me through my hardest moments, through the easier times, and through the trauma I've faced.

So yeah. He and I are pretty close. Let's get into it, this is going to be a long one.

Who is Apollo? ☀

I have heard Apollo referred to as the God of many things, and this description of him is not incorrect as much as it is a gross minimization of the things he takes Godly precedence over. He is the god of:

The Sun; Light; Poetry; Music and the Arts; Healing / Medicine; Plagues; Knowledge; Order; Prophecy; Truth; A God of Beauty; Agriculture; and Archery.

Some of these things are not as well known as others, and there are absolutely some things missing from that list. Again. He rules over a lot of things.

Apollo, in my life, has been more present as the God of music and the arts, and prophecy. A major part of my practice is the art of prophecy and divination, the concept of time and the future. Of course, I do not have as much time as I would like to delve fully into the concept of time as much as I'd like, but I still like to dip my toes into the concept of prophecy. It took me a while to accept the fact that prophecies do, in fact, exist, and they are things that can be accessed by someone who is not the Oracle at Delphi.

Apollo is also known for having many lovers and, more nuanced, has been claimed as a patron God of Queer individuals. He has had his fair share of gay lovers himself, and in fact, is quite known for having a series of lovers who have then turned into plants. For example:

Hyacinthus, who was turned into a Hyacinth. Daphne, who was turned into a Laurel tree. Cyparissus, who was (unwillingly) turned into a Cyprus Tree.

At a certain point, it is almost comical.

Apollo, as a Worshipper and Devotee.

Of course, everyone starts somewhere. And for a good portion of my practice, I started as a worshipper and devotee of Apollo. This meant that I was dedicating certain acts to him and gifting him little trinkets and leaving him offerings. My favorite instance was when I left him a pack of cookies for about a month. After a month, I went to eat them as to not waste them. The cookies gave me static and shocked me. Apollo and I had a conversation about boundaries following this.

I have been devoted to Apollo my whole life, I like to say. Ever since I could improperly hold utensils within my digits, I drew on things. When I first learned how to make illegible sounds, I sang. When I learned how to create poorly worded poetry, I crafted it. By no means am I a lyrical genius or a poet laureate. In fact, I'm horrible at writing song lyrics and I have only ever written one catchy verse, and in all my years of playing Ukulele, I have never been able to play and sing until November of last year.

However, in my early childhood, leading up to college, I was nearly prodigal when it came to musical instruments. I graduated high school knowing how to play clarinet, bass clarinet, saxophone, flute, xylophone, euphonium (my favorite), bass guitar, acoustic guitar, ukulele, trumpet, trombone, and kalimba. I'm sure there are people out there who know more instruments, but all things considered, this is a damn collection of instruments that I'm pretty okay at. In 8th grade I was the back-up singer in my military schools rock band, I was the acoustic guitarist.

I've also been acting for about 9 years (I'm about to be 20), which is a good portion of my sentient and cognisant life. I've done work both on stage and off, but yet still have not managed to be in a musical. They scare me.

Not to mention my history with other forms of art. In fifth grade, I painted a still life that was elected and ended up in a local art gallery. In the first week of May, one of my photos from study abroad was selected as being the best in its category and I won a prize. My history teacher hung a drawing I did of her daughter in the classroom because she adored it so much. However, that may have just been because it was a picture of her daughter.

This laundry list of artistic endeavors is not meant to be a flex or a brag. It's meant to showcase my extensive history in the arts and my devotion to Apollo. He has been an important part of my life. Before every performance, I pray to him. Before every concert, I'd ask him to send me humility and patience. Before every drawing, I ask Apollo for inspiration and a dash of creative whimsy. I also say hi to the sun every morning, wishing him a good morning while I drink my morning coffee.

Apollo, as my Patron.

As my patron, Apollo is my biggest mentor. He is there for me through thick and thin. When the going gets tough. I know I can lean on and rely on him.

My mother calls me Sunshine (my hair sticks up and gets all frizzy, and so she calls me Sunshine because she considers my hair to be rays), she always has. This is reflective of Apollo's presence in my life, in my opinion. A little ray of the sunshine that he emits.

But back to the mentor thing. Apollo has always been someone I can look to whenever I need guidance. Whether that means consulting the cards and asking him for some guidance, or using a pendulum and having an asinine round of "is that a yes or a no" with him, or him sending me a sign.

Very recently, I asked him for a sign that he's still there. That he hasn't gone anywhere or left me. I asked him to send me something bright orange, out of the ordinary, that I wouldn't expect to see. About two days later, at the beach, one of the friends we had been waiting on shows up wearing a bright orange dress. And I mean neon. And she never wears bright colors like that.

But, enough hyperspecific personal anecdotes. If I keep going, this post would be an autobiography.

Apollo, as a patron, is a very hyper and mischievous guide and mentor. He will say things that don't make sense in the moment, but will eventually make sense. He likes his riddles. He likes his complex-meaning messages. That is why it's important to write things down, of course.

Apollo, as a Godspouse.

So, let me start with the definition of a Godspouse. A godspousal to a God, Goddess, or any divine being with the intention to devote yourself to them wholly and fully for the rest of your life. This can look like a lot of things. It can be entirely platonic, it can be romantic, it can be a continuous boss-employee work style relationship, pretty much anything. The only difference between this and a normal worship or working relationship is that it is sort of binding. It is not a light decision to make, and it should be a decision you make after years of already devoting yourself to the divine being.

I am of the unpopular belief that you can start deity work at any time during your practice, not just later on. Apollo started my practice with me, and I am of the firm belief that I only understood parts of my practice and have made so much progress with his assistance. It obviously depends on the deity you work with, which deities you accept help from, and who you let into your life. But this is an entirely separate post for another time. Apollo and I have developed a strong, firm bond over the past 10 years. And in the grand scheme of my practice, we've been godspoused for only a short while.

Our relationship is more of a romantic kind, in the sense that we have our affectionate nicknames for one another (he calls me his songbird and sunbeam, and I call him Sunspot / my sunlight). We flirt back and forth and send one another gifts (I, in the form of offerings, and he, in the form of signs and literal gifts through people in my life). It's a sweet little give-and-take we have. My end goal, though, is to become a sort of oracle for Apollo. Again, this loops back to my obsession with time and prophecy.

The End (Finally)

If you read all of that, you rock! Apollo is important to me and he has left a major imprint in my life. He is a major source of light for me and to not ramble about him this much would be a cardinal sin of which I would have to repent for. Plus, he loves and adores attention. But I will stop running my mouth. As usual, if you have any questions or requests, feel free to comment them here or submit an ask via my tumblr. Blessed be, may the sun be your guide! A domani!

[koifly]

German crp headcanons

Nina:

Nina the Killer would listen to SXTN. She'd blast 'Von Party zu Party' in her pink, leopard print, maximalist room every day. She knows all of their songs by heart and introduces everyone who doesn't know them (very few) to SXTN.

Had a fat crush on the Kaulitz brothers (Tokio Hotel), Peter Shaw (Die ???), Julien Bam and Taddl (TJ_beastboy) when she was younger.

Watched Rebekah Wing's horror yt vids religiously. Tbh, she watched every German youtuber's horror vlogs.

Was a victim of the "Scheiss Grufti" and "Zieh dich mal vernünftig an" comments in her school.

Since she's Turkish in my AU, she had an accent when she spoke German, especially when she was younger. It's still there but not as noticeable.

Early and uncontrolled internet access kid.

CRO hater in public, secretly loved his songs.

Didn't go outside often when she was younger, she rather played at home or in her backyard.

Was that kid that went to primary school with a princess crown.

Wanted to go to the Longboard tour SO badly but wasn't allowed to.

Listens to Hobbylos. (Nett hier, aber haben Sie schon Hobbylos mit 5 Sternen bewertet?)

Toby:

Probably grew up in a small village on the countryside.

Was an outside kid, he hated being at home. Not only because of the abuse but also because he got bored too quickly.

Parents somehow convinced him to be an altar boy, he quit when he was 14 or something.

LOVED Die Ärzte and Pisse, his dad listened to Rammstein so he didn't listen to them as some form of protest. (I don't support the actions of Till Lindemann in any way btw)

Went everywhere with his bicycle until 13, then he just walked everywhere or took public transport.

Says 'Digga' in every sentence, doesn't even know how he picked it up but he did. (Digga is a German slang word, comparable to bro, dude etc...)

Toggo kid who actively hated on KiKa kids. Mainly because he once fell asleep while watching KiKa in the evening and woke up while Berndt das Brot was on. He got jumpscared basically. (Please google Berndt das Brot, that thing was every German kid's nightmare and biggest fear istg.)

Always got candy too when he went to the bakery. Loved Esspapier and Schlümpfe.

Absolutely despises AfD voters. (Which is good, don't vote right wing parties kids, be like Toby)

When the first Bibi und Tina movie came out, his sister forced him to go to the cinema with him.

Regularly falls into a bush of nettles. (Not that he cares or feels it)

Ate every god damn berry he found in the wild when he was a kid. An absolute miracle that he's still alive.

Has always been a Marvel boy.

Met Nat in primary school. They even lived close to one another. Thought Nat was weird at first but somehow ended up crushing really hard on her in 8th grade or something. Is still crushing.

Natalie:

Was a victim of the "Oui, oui baguette" comments at her school.

Was the weird girl at her school, no one really talked to her, was always drawing something and only wore black.

Absolutely loved Stutenkerle and St. Martins Brezeln.

Always had the prettiest lantern at St. Martin.

LOVED Bibi und Tina. Had everything from them, dvds, cds, posters, friendship bracelets, everything.

Had a big fat crush on Toby in 7th grade. (Nothing really changed about that lol)

Lived on a farm, had her own little pony and named her Sabrina as a reference to Bibi und Tina.

Lived in a small village on the countryside. (Same that Toby lived in obviously)

Ruhrpott dialect despite her French roots. I'm not gonna explain why, she just has it.

Had a crush on Beni from Woozlegoozle when she was a kid.

Even though her parents are french, they loved Schlager music. Nat has a love-hate relationship with it.

Was at EVERY Schützenfest in her village and those around it. Had no particular reason for it, she always went alone anyways. She just found it amusing to see people get drunk and do stupid shit.

Was a Die Ärzte girl.

[alaskan-wallflower]

i put my playlist on shuffle right and the squip song came on and now im just thinking about a be more chill au. but like adjacently.

walk with me por favor. im thinkin paul would simultaneously be rich and darry's squip simply bc im positive he's an absoulutely horrible influnce and is always telling darry "it's really not that bad, and besides if anything happens, my dad will bail us out" and darry who just wants to fit in with the socs so so bad always ends up going along with it (nvm the fact that 6/10 times paul's dad does in fact not bail darry out)

STOP I JUST HAD AN IDEA WITH MICHAEL IN YHE BATHROOM BEING TWO BIT WHEN DARRY LEAVES HIM FOR PAUL

that sounds so cool tho oh my gosh :( Also I don’t remember who said this but “Good For You” from Dear Evan Hansen is SO the gang when Darry almost goes Soc. (I don’t remember who originally said this but if I find them I’ll tag them) but OUGH the whole Darry almost going Soc thing is soooo much fun because his popularity from when he met Paul (8th grade) skyrockets by the time he’s almost graduating. Except he was seen as just another greaser until Paul befriended him.

There’s so much here that’s unspoken…AGH

[abominable-space-they]

One of my first Steddie fics was Steve going punk. I have a lot of feelings about Punk!Steve, so I am really pleased to see the fandom getting excited about it.

I was thinking about an Au in which Max discovers The Runaways & has a sweeping personal epiphany, gets into punk & starts playing the drums. She loves how cathartic it is, also that it's to loud for anyone to talk to her.

She starts teaching Eleven too as she learns. It turns out that once she's been exposed to the idea of making music, El has a gift. She picks it up with with an almost supernatural ease. Eventually they want to start a band, its the summer after 8th grade. Eleven switches to bass, bc she can, they recruit Erica who was absolutely scandalized to hear that no one knew she played piano & guitar. But they had a small problem when they wanted to do gigs. There was only one place, the hide out & they were extremely minors. In order to play, they had to have "a responsible adult".

There was no way any of their parents were gonna work for that duty.

Steve was the obvious answer to their problems. When he said he wasn't gonna spend every weekend sitting in a run down little bar, they offered him a spot in the band... which was a little unconventional but it was punk so whatever and actually Steve was perfect for a front man. He could talk to the crowd right? (Steve does not love the idea but sure fine he could do that maybe)

The thing is, these kids have worked so hard to make this happen, Steve can't actually say no... & If he was being totally honest with himself, he kinda loved being included. So he says yes to being a vocalist, co-vocalist.

He encourage them to also yell if they wanted... Erica has immediate ideas. The band progresses surprisingly well. When they decide they're ready Steve easily books a gig. Max & Erica are both massively annoyed it was so easy for him when it was their band and idea. But whatever they have their first gig planned

They argue about the name of the band for so long they have to emergency name it the weekend before the show so they can put up flyers. Max & El wanted to call it Mommy Issues, Erica had gotten really into X-Ray Spex & wanted to call them The Wrex. It got a little intense.

Steve in desperation suggested Cherry Rex... because it referenced The Runaways song Chery Bomb, and had the aesthetic energy of The Wrex & X-Ray Spex

To his shock they actually agreed on that.

Their first gig was on a Monday, to nobody but one very belligerently drunk guy who might have passed out in his booth. Of course they expected that more or less. It was more ok then they thought though, the girls had a blast... and actually so did Steve.

A month or three later and they'd slowly worked up the live band tenure and were getting their first Friday night slot. There would be four bands, two punk, two metal; Boondock Boyfriend, Death Vision, & Corroded Coffin. Cherry Rex were playing the opening spot being the newbies. Steve thought Corroded Coffin sounded vaguely familiar, but couldn't figure out where from. He wasn't to worried about it though, he was here for Cherry Rex.

Getting the parents permission to take the whole party to a borderline dive bar (he left that part out) had been one of the most trying experiences of Steve's young life, but in the end he got it done, and everyone was super excited.

------

Eddie always came early on the nights Corroded Coffin played, he liked supporting his fellow musicians, many of whom had only played parties and basements before they could get in here. It was a point of pride for him to not be a snob about it. He supported anyone and everyone who wasn't a bully or a bigot.

This weekend they had a whole new band, playing. He'd heard that it was a group of preteen punk rock girls, so of course the rock bros were grousing. He would have none of that though. He remembered when he first got into music as a preteen, the way it let him process feelings he was to scared to otherwise. He would definitely be there for their first weekend gig

So imagine his surprise when he finds Steve Harrington on stage. He introduced everyone Max on drums whom Eddie recognized from around, as well as her maybe? girlfriend?, who's name was apparently the number Eleven, on Bass. And Erica, who actually exhuded rock and roll energy, on guitar. Steve called himself their token adult. He spent half the time singing, but also dancing, sometimes being hype man for whomever was singing that particular song.

He was wearing a Hawkins High Tshirt that he'd scrawled The King is Dead across in Sharpie. Also light wash jeans, which Eddie had laughed about at first, but when he cut them off at the knee while they were still on his body, during Erica's song about self reliance, identity, and D&d... and he had fishnets on under them? He was completely won over. They were pretty good...and Steve Harrington, a punk? He was genuinely so fucked. So so fucked

(does Vecna & the upside down exist here? I don't know)

[spacebunniezzz]

Happy 17th anniversary to one of my favorite albums of all time, Mayday Parade's A Lesson In Romantics!!!

My introduction to this band was back when I was in 8th grade. I stumbled upon their music one day while searching for emo music (yes that's literally what I put in the search bar lolz!) and I came across this album and listened to it and my god is it a fantastic album! From front to back it is a masterpiece, I don't even have any specific songs from it to recommend because I think it's such a good album all the way through and i highly recommend it.

It is the perfect pop punk/emo album and it has gotten me through good days and bad days and it's so difficult to express how much I love this album and what it means to me. If you love pop punk music and don't know Mayday Parade please give this whole album a listen, it is absolutely amazing and a true pop punk gem.

Release Date: July 10 2007

Length: 46:42

Tracklist:

1. Jamie All Over

2. Black Cat

3. When I Get Home, You're So Dead

4. Jersey

5. If You Wanted a Song Written About You, All You Had to Do Was Ask

6. Miserable at Best

7. Walk on Water or Drown

8. Ocean and Atlantic

9. I'd Hate to Be You When People Find Out What This Song is About

10. Take This to Heart

11. Champagne's for Celebrating (I'll Have a Martini)

12. You Be the Anchor That Keeps My Feet on the Ground, I'll be the Wings That Keep Your Heart in the Clouds

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Here is the full album from Shi :3

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━ ( scene changes )

Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

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“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

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“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

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1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

[thisaintascenereviews]

Happy Birthday, Infinity On High.

Everyone’s got those albums that mean the world to them, whether it’s an album that they have specific memories attached to, an album that changed their lives in some kind of way, an album they just love, or an album that got them into music itself or a certain style, and I’m no exception. There are many albums that mean a lot to me, for one reason or another, and I’ve been wanting to work on a top albums list, because I haven’t done that in over a decade, but there are a select few that I put into the upper echelons of my favorite albums. These are the albums that are the best of the best for me, and I don’t have a whole lot of those. I’ve always thought there is a difference between my favorite albums and what the best albums of all time are, because I may love an album and it may be one of the best albums ever made, but it isn’t one of my personal favorites. I need to make a list of my top 25 favorite albums of all time, because that would be a fun and ambitious project, but that’s for another day. Nonetheless, It wouldn’t be a secret to say that my all time favorite album is Fall Out Boy’s third album, and major label debut, 2007’s Infinity On High.

I’ve made that clear many times over the the last decade, at least since I’ve been writing about music, but this is a record that can’t be understated. I’ve written about it a lot, but it’s worth writing about again, because it celebrates its 17th anniversary today. I’m writing this on its anniversary, and I felt compelled to talk about this record again, but I wanted to add something new to the conversation that I haven’t said yet. I’ve already talked at length about how catchy, infectious, and accessible this album was, especially for the band. They signed with Island for this record, and got a huge leg up when it came to guest spots, such as Jay Z providing some vocals for the first track, as well as Babyface writing and producing a couple of songs, which is reflective in its pop, soul, and R&B sound that shows up throughout the album. Infinity On High is their first blatant foray into pop, whereas 2005’s From Under The Cork Tree only flirted with it, and this album set the stage for most of their career afterwards. I would say that this is their most “experimental” album, although 2018’s Mania closely follows that, but Infinity On High is still my favorite album from them, as well as the album that got me into music. Without this album, I don’t know if I’d be the person I am today, or love the same music I do.

That’s also something I’ve talked about at length, but I find myself enjoying this album for different reasons as I’ve gotten older. I used to love it because it was an album that I had never heard before, especially as a teenager. Infinity On High wasn’t bound by labels or ideas, and it moved through different sounds and genres like it was nothing, but these days, I love the album for its unashamed experimentation and willingness to branch out and try new sounds. I didn’t know much about the band going into this album as a kid, but with all the context, and knowing how their career has gone, it makes the album hold up even more. Its experimentation is something I really love about it, but I do love this album for its hooks, melodies, and Patrick Stump’s vocals (the first time he was really able to express himself as a vocalist, and not be held back by standard pop-punk songwriting).

I love this album for different reasons now, but I can’t lie and say that nostalgia isn’t a big part of that. The album holds up extremely well, but this is one of those albums that has the power to take me back to when I was 13, and this album just came out. I have memories listening to this album in a Walkman in 8th grade, as iPods had just come out, or were starting to evolve, and I also kind of remember picking this up when it came out. Music used to come out on Tuesdays, and I didn’t get to go anywhere until Saturday, so I would always go to Target on Saturday, and pick out an album or two, then I’d spend that week listening to them, and only them, so that’s where my “rotation” comes from. I like to listen to a select handful of albums every week or two, at least until I get sick of them, but I remember picking this one up because I had sort of listened to Fall Out Boy before, and I saw that it came out, so I thought, “What the heck,” and the rest is history.

Fall Out Boy became my favorite band after hearing this, and they have the distinction of being my favorite band all of these years later, but it feels right. I’ve had other favorite bands throughout the years, but my music taste has changed, yet the one constant is Fall Out Boy, and that’s the big takeaway from my yearly celebration of this record. Even as I get older, and this record gets older, I still love it, especially as my taste has changed over the years. This is a record that I still love, 17 years later, and I still find reasons to love it even now. I’m gonna play this record today in honor of its birthday, and hopefully you do, too.

[lady-pug]

i'm in love (with an uptown girl) - Part I

Summary: In which Dustin is sure about your feelings for Eddie and Eddie's for Chrissy, but maybe he doesn't know the two of you as well as he thinks he does.

Pairing: Chrissy Cunningham x Reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of period typical homophobia

Notes: I may or may not have accidentally fallen in love with Grace Van Dien and, consequently, Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy was such a good character and she had so much unexplored potential, I wish we could have seen more of her.

This was supposed to be a one-shot turned into a two-shot turned into a three-shot when I realized how long it was getting. The title references Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’, a song Grace herself has mentioned would probably be Chrissy’s 'Vecna song', so I went with that.

Also also, I know renting ‘Return Of The Jedi’ means absolutely nothing (I myself used to rent Star Wars DVDs in a completely random order when I was younger, would just rent out the one I was in the mood for). I just used that whole interaction in order to help plant the seed about Chrissy, much like the series did with the ‘Fast Times’ scene about Vickie (as a kid I didn’t truly understand the purpose of having Leia wearing that in particular, both in terms of inside the universe and out, but now I do and I don’t like it).

Anyway, that was just me ranting, sorry about that! I really hope you enjoy this story, and if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Reader's gender not specified

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

“W-what?” your head snapped up so quickly you were scared you might have pulled a muscle, prompting the boys at the table to snicker.

“I said” Gareth emphasized, a smirk hanging from his lips “that she’s so pretty, isn’t she, Eddie?”

Said boy, who had been staring off into space and just so happened to have his head turned towards the jocks and cheerleaders’ table, snapped out of his trance almost as quickly as you had a few minutes prior.

“Who?” he seemed as confused as you felt.

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Jeff asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your heart, the poor bastard, clenched painfully inside your chest at the mention of the blonde’s name. 

“Yeah, I mean… sure.” Eddie waved his hands dismissively.

“Come oooon!” Gareth, who had been sitting to the left of Eddie, whined and poked him in the ribs “We all know you’ve had heart eyes for her since, like, 8th grade man. No need to pretend otherwise.”

“Guys…” Dustin’s eyes darted towards you, a concerned frown on his lips.

“I don’t have a crush on Chrissy Cunningham?” Eddie answered, although it came out more of a question, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dude, seriously? You think we haven’t noticed the way you stare at her at every chance you get? Especially when she’s wearing that cute cheerleading dress?” Grant spoke up, Gareth, Jeff and Mike snickering with him.

“Guys…” Dustin tried interrupting again, but the other boys seemed to pay him no mind.

“Yeah, man.” Mike piped up, his mean smirk making your blood boil slightly “If you stare any longer she’ll go from calling you ‘The Freak’ to calling you ‘The Creep’.”

Your fists clenched under the table, nails digging painfully on your palm. You were about to speak up but Eddie beat you to it.

“She’s not like that!” he closed his hand around the mini pretzel he was eating, crunching it in his fist from the force of his words “She’s kind and gentle and sweet.” he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes before speaking up again, softer this time “She’d never do that.”

“See?” Gareth pointed out “You’re already defending your girlfriend-”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Mike muttered under his breath.

“So you might as well make it official and ask her out already!” Gareth finished, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

You’ve had enough. Pushing your chair back with so much force it scraped loudly against the linoleum floor, you hastily grabbed your bookbag, stomping away from your usual lunch table and out of the cafeteria. 

“Great going dipshits.” Eddie threw a hard, stern glare towards his friends and quickly followed after you.

“What was that?” Jeff asked, bemused, still staring at the doors which you’d left through.

“I dunno.” Grant shrugged “One moment we were joking around, the next-”

“Guys!” Dustin yelled, startling his friends and earning the attention from other students at the nearby tables. Shrinking his shoulders, he smiled sheepishly, embarrassed, before addressing the other boys again “That was really mean. Even downright cruel.”

“What?” Gareth exclaimed “We were just teasing him!”

“Not to him, dumbass.” Dustin hissed sharply. “To her.”

“Your sister?” Mike asked, a frown twisting his features “What does she have to do with all this?”

“Seriously?” Dustin replied incredulously “You mean to tell me you’ve never noticed?”

The boys shook their heads and Dustin sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“For people who claim to have it all figured out, you surely are clueless.” he exhaled long and deeply, as if preparing to give a stern scolding to a bunch of four year olds “My sister has the biggest crush on Eddie.”

“What?”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Have you guys never noticed the way she stares at him? How she’s always giddy and happy around him?”

“Yeah, ‘cause they’ve been best friends since they were little?” Grant chimed in.

“No, it’s different.” Dustin tried looking for the right words to explain himself “It’s like… she feels safe with him. Like she knows at the end of the day she’ll always have a safe place right besides him to fall back in.”

“Except Eddie likes Chrissy.” Mike mumbled, the cogs turning in his brain.

“Exactly.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” Gareth stared back at Dustin, wide eyed “she also stares at Chrissy a lot. Always with this wistful, dreamy look on her face.”

“Almost as if she wants to… be Chrissy?” Dustin completed, making a lightbulb go up simultaneously in all four boy’s heads “Yeah. She’s head over heels for him, and you teasing him about his crush only serves to remind her of what she’ll never ever have!”

The guys had the decency to look ashamed at his outburst.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, getting up from their table and collecting his, yours and Eddie’s tray “I’m going to go find my sister and lend her my shoulder for her to cry on.”

Gareth, Jeff, Mike and Grant stared at his retreating form, guilt weighing heavily on their stomachs.

Dustin found Eddie in front of his locker, shuffling through the stuff inside, looking for something.

“Hey, Eddie.” Dustin leaned against the door of the locker adjacent to his, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, man.” Eddie answered, without so much as looking over at his friend. He looked annoyed, the boy dared say even slightly pissed.

“Have you seen my sister?”

The younger boy jumped about a foot in the air when the door to the locker was slammed shut, a smal, metallic black lunch box hanging tightly from Eddie’s fist.

“No, Henderson, I haven’t seen her.” he answered, a fed up expression crossing his face as he started walking away.

“Wait up, Eddie.” Dustin held him by the cuff of his jacket, preventing him from leaving “I wanna talk to you.”

The metalhead sighed and turned his attention to the boy, nodding for him to go on.

“I know you like Chrissy-”

“I don’t like-”

“Please, just let me finish.” Dustin held a hand up for him to stop interrupting, to which Eddie rolled his eyes but stayed quiet “I know you like Chrissy. I do, really. Just… don’t break her heart.”

“Chrissy’s?” Eddie seemed confused.

“No.” he said your name hurriedly, desperately trying to get his point across “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but she really really likes you. Like -likes you.”

“She doesn’t like me.” Eddie answered unphased, his calmness making Dustin’s heartbeat pick up in anger.

“Yes, she does! How come you don’t see that?” he rubbed a palm over his face, the pull on his cheeks stretching his lower eyelids so far Eddie worried his eyes were about to pop out of the socket “I just- I… I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

Eddie’s entire demeanor deflated, a small sigh escaping through his lips. As annoying as the young boy could be sometimes, Dustin had an enormous heart, always worrying about others and putting their needs and feelings before his own, and (Eddie felt a twinge of pride anytime he thought about it) he was loyal to a fault. Those were among the first things he noticed about the boy when he started his freshman year, prompting the metalhead to quickly take him under his wing. That and his Weird Al tee.

He laid a hand over Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I can assure you, with the same certainty that the sky is blue and ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ is by far the best one in the trilogy, I’m not going to break her heart.” seeing a tiny residual layer of distrust fleetingly cross through Dustin’s eyes, he squeezed his shoulder tighter “I promise.”

Dustin nodded thoughtfully, shyly smiling up at his friend.

“Thank you.”

Eddie smiled back at him, giving his shoulder one last squeeze, before he was back to his usual dramatic self.

“Now, I’m going to find your sister and beg for forgiveness. I’ll even drop to my knees and grovel if I have to.”

Dustin laughed at his antics, watching Eddie practically skip down the deserted hallway away from him, clutching the metal lunch box loosely on his hand.

“If you continue to stare at the table like that it’s gonna go up in flames and probably spread all around the woods. And I really don’t want to add crimes against the environment to my ever growing list of felonies, you know?” Eddie’s face morphed into a shit-eating grin as he stared at your slumped form.

You only spared him a half-hearted glare before balling your hands tightly. You slammed your fists against the wooden picnic table in front of you, jumping out of the bench and starting to pace along the leaf covered ground.

“It’s just so annoying, you know?” you huffed angrily “They notice one little thing, one wrong thing might I add, and just believe they’ve got us all figured out!”

“Yep.” he agreed, also mildly annoyed at the situation.

Throwing your arms above your head in frustration, you kicked some of the leaves with the toe of your sneakers.

“Even if you were into Chrissy, how is that any of their business?”

“Mhmm.”

You paused for a moment, wringing your hands together, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake.

“But they are right, you know?”

“How so?” Eddie’s entire face scrunched up in confusion.

“You have been staring at Chrissy a lot recently.” you spoke quietly.

His face softened at the way you seemed to withdraw into yourself, letting your insecurities get the best of you. He stood up from the other bench, the dry leaves on the ground crunching under his white Reebok’s as he closed the distance between the two of you, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder, not unlike how he had done with your brother earlier.

“I’m just looking out for her. She hasn’t been all that well recently and Carver…” he sighed at the mention of his arch-nemesis “They may be dating but the dude still scares me when it comes to her. And she hasn’t been really happy with him for a while now. I don’t want her to get on his bad side.”

Your heart swelled with affection towards your best friend. Eddie had a heart of gold, one he hid behind leather and chains and metal and fantasylands to protect it from being hurt. Only a few selected individuals got to see this side of him, and you were extremely thankful you got to be one of them.

“I do not have a crush on Chrissy Cunningham, okay? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” he squeezed your shoulder playfully as his once soft smile grew mirthful “Besides, from how well we know each other, I’m actually offended you’d even suggest such a thing.”

You giggled at that, eased by both his actions and his words. Sensing you were back to your usual self, Eddie smiled, taking a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You do know that this would all stop if you just told them the truth, right?” he asked seriously “At the very least Dustin?”

You snorted.

“Right, because that is super easy and plausible.” you mocked “What would I even say to him? ‘Hey, little bro! You know how you’re into Suzie, a girl? Yeah, so am I.”

Eddie threw his head back, a loud and full laugh escaping from his wide smile. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he clutched his stomach, almost doubling over at the hilarity of your words.

“Man, oh, man. The way you phrased that-” he hiccuped, trying to regain his breath while wiping away some tears that had escaped down his cheek.

You couldn’t help but giggle as well, his laughter contagious, and a small smile formed on his face at having helped improve your mood.

“Yeah, it sounded pretty weird, didn’t it?” you shrugged your shoulders sheepishly.

He nodded, finally being able to stop chuckling.

“Just tell him you like pussy, can’t be that hard.” he sat back down on the bench, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Edward Cornelius Munson!” you gasped and slapped his shoulder.

“What, so do I!” he threw his hands up in amusement before smirking “That, among other things.”

“I know, it’s just… I’m not about to use such a-” you hesitated as you took in his wolfish grin “foul language with my baby brother.”

“He’s a high schooler!” he almost shouted.

“No matter how old we may be, he’ll always be my baby brother.” you answered, sitting back down on the bench, your smile faltering for just a moment. It was only a moment, but Eddie noticed. He always did when it came to you.

“You should tell him, you know?”

Your face fell completely, smile disappearing as your shoulders slumped.

“You know I can’t.” you said softly, prompting a small sad smile from him “What if-” you swallowed thickly before whispering “What if he doesn’t look at me the same anymore?”

Eddie reached across the table, his hands laying palms up against the old wood. His fingers crooked in his direction, signaling for you to lay your own on top of them.

“He’s your brother.” he squeezed your hands tightly in his own “You said so yourself, he’s your baby brother. That kid worships the very ground you walk on.”

“Eddie-” you shook your head, but his hands closed even more tightly around yours.

“No, listen to me.” he said firmly, his stern voice promptly shutting you up “He’s your brother and he loves you, so very much. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing could ever change that.”

Your eyes prickled, brimming with unshed tears. With a sniffle you squeezed his hands in return, willing yourself not to cry.

“Thanks.”

He smiled at you one more time before dropping your hands, his smile turning mischievous. 

“But seriously, Chrissy Cunningham?” he smirked, a mock disgusted look on his face “How basic can you be?”

“We’ve been over this before, Eddie.” you giggled “It’s just- she’s so-”

“So pretty and kind and nice, yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before.” he waved his hands dismissively at you “Why don’t you talk to her?”

You snapped your head at him, eyes widening minutely.

“What?” you stuttered “Are you insane?”

“What, why? It was just a suggestion!” he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“I couldn’t possibly talk to her! She’s pretty and popular, she’s-”

“The Queen of Hawkins High?” Eddie completed.

“Yes, exactly. And I’m just-”

“A freak?”

You shook your head.

“-me.” you whispered sadly “She’s everything and I’m just… me.”

Eddie’s eyes softened, something akin to pity and concern crossing behind them.

“That’s not true.” he spoke softly, as if you were a cornered animal and any loud noise would spook you. He sighed at the way you shrugged, realizing he couldn't get past the insecurities that had lodged themselves in your brain.

“Besides, she’s with Jason.”

“Fuck that dickhead! He’s not worthy of her time.” Eddie blew a raspberry “She’s really nice. He doesn’t deserve her.”

Ever since she started buying from him, the two of them had become really good friends. Eddie was very fond of her and would do almost anything to keep her safe. Even fighting her own boyfriend if it came to it.

“Yeah, right.”

“You should talk to her. You have a lot more in common than you realize.” he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant “If nothing else, I think you two would be great friends.”

You smiled at him, a genuine smile this time. You were very grateful for having Eddie in your life. He was always there for you when you needed, always willing to drop everything just to make you smile. For a smile while you were afraid of losing him, having revealed your secret when he confessed to having a crush on you for a while. You were a sophomore, he was just starting his first round as a senior and you had known each other for a long while when he dropped that on you. You were scared, terrified even, that you’d end up losing him completely, but he hadn’t been disgusted nor weirded out, like you’d expected. Quite the opposite, in fact. He had been incredibly supportive and even revealed that he himself wasn’t very conventional when it came to relationships.

“I mean, as long as they love me and treat me AND my friends right… and don’t mind me blasting Black Sabbath on my sweetheart every once in a while, who cares? Guys, girls, people who are neither? Doesn’t matter, man.” 

“Thanks, Eddie.” you smiled at him, giving one of his shoulders a soft punch.

“If you want the teasing to stop, though, you’ll have to tell the boys from Hellfire.”

“And risk Mike Wheeler running his loud mouth around? Then get turned into an even bigger laughing stock for being something even worse than a ‘freak’ in their eyes? Or worse, get beat to a pulp by someone like Jason Carver? No, thank you.”

Eddie agreed. Then, for a moment, he looked up, brows furrowed, deep in thought.

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure Wheeler has a puppy dog kinda crush on me.”

“Oh, no, he does. For sure.” you nodded vehemently “He pretty much stole your style and your mannerisms, there’s no way he doesn’t have at least a small infatuation towards you.”

He chuckled.

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend, though?”

“Yeah, El. But he also talks about Will Byers almost as much as he talks about her. It’s always ‘Will this, Will that’... you might as well incorporate Will, the Wise into our next campaign.” that made him giggle and shake his head at your antics. No matter how much you teased your brother and his friends, you loved those munchkins very much.

Him, sensing you were finally relaxing, decided to throw in a joke to alleviate the mood even further.

“Soooooo, Henderson… when are you asking her out then?” he said, smirking at your smiling face.

You threw your head back, laughing at his jokester self.

“I dunno, Munson.” you shrugged “When are you going to ask Steve Harrington out?”

“Uh, never?!” his face looked almost offended, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks, but in truth you knew how much he liked the former ‘King’.

“There’s your answer.”

He chuckled, amused.

“See, that’s why I keep myself open to the opportunities. There’s plenty of fish on this sea.” he tsked “Try being more like me, won’t ya?”

“Oh yes” your face turned mockingly serious “I’ll be exactly like you. With at least twice, if not more, as much opportunity and yet you’re still alone.”

With a hand to his chest, he gasped dramatically.

“How dare you?!” he glared at you playfully “Low blow.”

“It’s the truth.”

He chuckled, pulling a laugh out of you, and for a moment, all your worries vanished.

“I swear to you, Max, if he so much as thinks about hurting her I’ll personally break every single one of his fingers so he can never play his precious guitar ever again.” Dustin hissed as he pushed the doors open at Family Video.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, exchanging a suspicious glance with Robin.

“Dustin here is threatening bodily harm.” the red-head explained as she walked towards the horror section, stopping briefly to stare at a copy of ‘Pretty In Pink’ in the romance section.

“To whom?” Robin asked.

Dustin sighed heavily, like the thought gave him an immense amount of pain.

“Eddie.”

Steve stared at Dustin as if he’d grown a second head. Normally Dustin wouldn’t shut up about his Dungeon Master, he basically worshiped the dude, to Steve’s mild annoyance. So for him to be mad at Eddie, something drastic must have happened.

“What did the dingus do?” Robin pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, don’t ask-” Max shouted from over between the shelves.

“I’m glad you asked!” Dustin cut her off, jumping up and sitting over the counter, ignoring the protests of both Steve and Robin “Okay, it’s kind of a long story.”

“Oh, no.” Steve mumbled under his breath.

“So, you guys know my sister, right?”

“Of course we do, she’s one of our best friends. Also works here all other days of the week?” Robin questioned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, her.” Dustin continued, unbothered “She’s got it bad for Eddie. Like head over heels bad.”

Steve almost choked on air. From the corner of his eye he could see Robin shooting the young boy a funny look, almost in disbelief.

“But the thing is, Eddie has it bad for Chrissy Cunningham.”

Robin and Steve stared at one another, jaws hanging open. 

“Okay, and?” Steve asked.

“And?” Dustin asked incredulously “And she’s bound to get hurt. She’s going to get hurt and-” he let out a shuddering breath “I don’t want to see that happen.”

Both Steve’s and Robin’s gaze softened at the boy’s kind words. 

“If it serves as any consolation, Dustin, your sister does not have a crush on Eddie.”

“Yes, she does!” Dustin practically shouted “She’s my sister and I know her! She is in love with Eddie! It’s so obvious, why can’t none of you see it?”

“Dust-” Robin tried interrupting, but the boy cut her off, offended.

“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t know my own sister?!”

Robin raised her hands, trying to calm the boy down.

“Okay, okay. Fine.” she sighed defeated.

Steve sensed Dustin was getting upset and tried to placate him into calming down.

“Hey, man. If, by any chance, he ends up breaking her heart, I’ll help you bash that metalhead’s skull in.”

Dustin smiled a toothy grin, reassured by his friend’s words.

“Now!” Steve clapped his hands “I assume the two of you aren’t here just to gossip now, are you?”

Dustin straightened his spine, jumping down from the counter and disappearing behind some shelves. Moments later he came back, dragging a reluctant Max by the wrist.

“Maxine here” he started (to which Max mumbled ‘Call me Maxine again and I’ll break your fucking nose’ under her breath) “has never watched Star Wars.”

Steve gasped dramatically.

“Seriously?! What a crime!”

Robin rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t watched it either, dingus.”

“Yes I have!”

“Sleeping halfway through ‘A New Hope’ doesn’t count as watching!”

“Anyway,” Dustin cleared his throat “Mike and I agreed that it’s about time she watched it and decided on a movie marathon. Lucas is also joining us. So if either of you can get me the tapes for the entire trilogy, we‘ll get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

Robin started typing in Dustin’s file while Steve went out back to retrieve the requested tapes.

“Uh, guys?” Steve came back to the front of the store holding one tape in each hand “Looks like someone already rented one of them.”

“What?!” Dustin’s voice broke as he reached for the tapes “‘Return Of The Jedi’ is missing! Who in their right minds rents only ‘Return Of The Jedi'?!”

Robin looked at Steve, a mischievous smile crossing her features. He knew she could only mean trouble.

“Let me check that out for you.”

“Uh, Rob.” Steve mumbled, concerned “That’s against company policy.”

“Come on, Stev-o, live a little! We do this all the time to find out stuff about people.”

“Oh, and checking the renting log for Star Wars 3 will tell us what exactly?”

Robin smirked. Oh, Steve didn’t like where this was going.

“If we cross reference it with the other two,” Robin started typing on the computer behind the counter “we can check out who rented all three of them together or rented all three of them separately but in the correct order.”

“And those who rented just this one?”

Robin’s smirk only grew. She looked at Steve dead in the eye and mouthed the word ‘boobies’. Steve could practically hear the moment the shoe dropped, his own face morphing into a smirk. 

“Are we missing something here?” Max asked, suspicious.

Robin dismissed her and continued typing. It took about twenty minutes, but she eventually had printed out an extensive list of names after having written down a bunch of names and connecting them on her little white board.

“Okay, munchkins.” she turned to them, swiveling her chair “I have it. After pulling the records of the past six months, I managed to find out all the people who rented ‘Return Of The Jedi’ solo.”

Dustin giggled, and Max rolled her eyes, but a tiny amused smile pulled at her lips. Steve awaited eagerly, hanging from the edge of his seat.

“Let’s see, from oldest to newest.” Robin cleared her throat “Eddie Munson, clearly; me; Vicki; Eddie again; your sister.” 

Steve side-eyed her, his brows furrowing in confusion, but Robin kept going without paying him any mind.

“Vicki again; your sister again; Fred Benson; Eddie; Vickie; Eddie; Jason Carver;” her face scrunched up in disgust (to which Dustin screamed a “Jason Carver likes Star Wars?! ”) before continuing “your sister; Vickie; me; Eddie aaaaaand… oh!”

Everyone froze, startled expressions paralyzing their faces.

“What do you mean ‘oh!’?” Steve asked, incredulous.

Robin’s eyes were wide as saucers, her eyebrows so far up her forehead they disappeared under her short bangs. Her mouth hung wide open and only small stutters came out. Swallowing hard, she exhaled sharply through her nose before turning to her friends, her voice low.

“The last person to rent ‘Return Of The Jedi’ and who currently has the tape is Chrissy Cunningham.”

Multiple things happened at once. Steve’s jaw fell almost to the ground, Dustin let out a loud disbelieving yelp and Max’s eyes widened just a fraction. 

“Seriously?” Dustin asked “Chrissy Cunningham, captain of the cheer squad, queen of Hawkins High, Jason Carver’s girlfriend, rented out a Star Wars movie?”

Steve and Robin glanced at one another. It was clear their incredulity stemmed from a totally different reason then the two kids. 

“Oh, well.” the boy threw his hands up in defeat “I guess our movie marathon is fucked.”

Max looked conflicted, slightly relieved but at the same time kind of bummed. Steve was already pulling the file for ‘Return Of The Jedi’ on the computer again, desperately trying to put a smile back on that kid’s face.

“She’s due to return it tomorrow. Why don’t you come by then? It’s Friday anyway, don’t you have Hellfire today?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Dustin shrugged “We were going to head straight to Mike’s after the club and Max would meet us there.”

“Tell you what,” Steve nodded his chin conspiratorially “why don’t you take something else for today, have a sleepover, and as soon as Chrissy returns the tape tomorrow I’ll drive by the Wheeler’s and deliver it to you, okay?”

“But what if Chrissy doesn’t return it on time?” Max asked.

The sound of keys being smashed on the keyboard pulled their attention back to Robin, who had taken over the computer.

“It says here she hasn’t missed one due date, and she’s been coming here for quite a while now.” she smiled reassuringly “You guys have nothing to worry about, Steve’s got this covered for you.”

After a few more moments trying to reassure Max’s everlasting distrust and restore Dustin’s goofy mood, the two kids left with a copy of ‘Gremlins’, one of Max’s favorite movies of all times. As they were about to set foot outside the door, Robin called out to Dustin.

“Don’t worry about your sister, okay? She’ll be alright.”

Dustin nodded and they left. With a huff, Robin slumped against the counter.

“So, what was that about our dearest Henderson having a crush on Eddie?” Steve asked.

“Trust me, dude, she does not have a crush on him.”

“Dustin seemed pretty adamant that she does.”

“She doesn’t.” the girl hissed.

“How could you possibly know? She might be one of your best friends since forever, but sometimes people rather keep-”

“Because I know!” Robin practically shouted “Because she’s also into the same stuff we both are!”

“You mean…” Steve’s eyes widened, before his confusion gave way to understanding “She did rent that Star Wars a lot.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Robin leaned closer to him and lowered her voice down to a whisper, even though there was no one else in the store at the time “We dated briefly in middle school. We were both going through a self-discovery journey kind of thing and we helped each other out. It’s good talking about your feelings with someone who actually gets it, who also knows exactly what you’re going through. That, combined with the fact we’d been friends for so long, had us both thinking that dating was the natural progression of things.” she smiled a sad, fond smile before shrugging “Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty cute, smart and all, but we quickly realized it was more like kissing a cousin than anything.”

“Ew.” Steve shrudded.

“Mhmm. So we broke things off about a month in.”

“Wow. That’s nice actually.” Steve smiled at her “It’s nice to know you didn’t have to go through all of that alone.”

Robin nodded in agreement, turning back towards her friend. She found him already staring at her eagerly. She closed her eyes with a sigh.

“Spit it out.”

“So our resident freak has a crush on the Queen of Hawkins High?”

Robin eyed him funny.

“No he doesn’t.” she scoffed “There’s only one person in this town whom Eddie fancies, and it’s certainly not Chrissy.”

“Who’s it?” he asked, like a kid who’s begging their parents to reveal the contents of their Christmas gift in advance.

Robin felt like she could facepalm. Better yet, bang her head on the counter multiple times.

“Seriously, Harrington?! Are you really that dense?”

Steve stared at her like a clueless puppy.

“What?”

She huffed and grabbed a pile of returned tapes to sort through.

“Anywaaay…” Steve sat next to her again “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Uh, duh? The fact that Chrissy rented that movie? You said so yourself and that list was pretty self explanatory.”

Robin smirked at him, a small chuckle climbing out of her throat.

“I think, my dear friend,” she topped her act off with a wink “that there’s more to Chrissy Cunningham than meets the eye.”

[hehehhe1d]

I first heard What Makes You Beautiful when I was in 2nd grade, and stupidly enough, I didn't like it. What's the big fuss about some teenaged boys singing at the beach? Nothing.

I heard Best Song Ever and I danced like there was no tomorrow in 5th grade, and then I felt Story of My Life was sad. But I didn't understand what it meant, or how much I'll be falling in love with these five boys in the near future.

In 7th grade, I heard about some guy leaving, some new song called Drag Me Down and then some band going on a break, and it didn't bother me much because they were just a bunch of rich singers.

8th Grade came, and Drag Me Down would play early in the morning on my school speakers of all places. Probably the first of their songs that I knew all the words to, but duh, who cares. And then one day when life got too hard, Rhea told me about this little boy band she's been obsessed with. And my egoistic 13 year old self pretended not to like it much. Then one day I found myself singing something called You & I that she'd forced me to listen to, and then I heard more of their songs, and then the old video diaries, and interviews and all of a sudden my life was full of Liam, Niall, Louis, Zayn and Harry.

One Direction pulled me through so much. I found myself obsessing over Little Things, it made me feel loved. I loved dancing to She's Not Afraid, imagining 18 playing when I would eventually fall in love some day, hoping one day I'd have as much fun as they did in the Live While We're Young video. I wanted to do nothing more than go to a One Direction concert when they would reunite.

The solo music came along then, and I loved every bit of it, but every night, right before I slept, I'd pray for a One Direction reunion, all five of them together.

It was all I wanted until Nanaji passed away. After that I wanted to kill myself every day, and I tried but failed every time. But these boys were here, pulling me through it. I prayed each night that I wouldn't wake up the next morning, but I did, every damn day. And these five got me through each day, making sure I was okay, even though they didn't even know I existed.

I got psychiatric help and eventually did get better for a while, and every day I danced my heart out to One Direction, and their solo songs. I even did that little fangirl scream after months, when I found out they were going to dance to Strip That Down on my seniors' farewell party. Mom and Dad would go to the temple after dinner, and that was our time, those 30 minutes each night. My silly ass would wait for them to leave, stick a picture of One Direction on the wall, plug in a pen drive to the TV and dance. The first time Where We Are was on Vh1, I sat on the floor so that I could feel like I was 'in the audience'. I didn't care if everyone thought I was crazy. I was happy, and I wanted to stay that way. Mannya did eventually get bored, maybe even moved on, but I didn't. I didn't need to when I have them, the best thing I could have had. And to have a video with Story Of My Life playing as the background music on my own Graduation Day with a picture collage of all my memories at school from 12 years? Absolute happiness. I met my new best friend, converted her to a Directioner, and it was just us and our favourite boys, doing everything nice. Nothing mattered except for the fact that my crazy little mind thought I could marry Niall and become best friends with Louis, Liam, Harry and Zayn.

COVID-19 was horrible. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come and how everything would go wrong. I was back to being depressed to the point that I wouldn't get out of bed unless it was to use the washroom. My family had their own troubles and it was just me, getting through things I couldn't explain to anyone. I was slowly losing interest in everything, even One Direction, and it was hurting me so much. I didn't want to live, but still, I hoped one day I could be okay again. I loved and supported the boys through it but there was always more on my mind, and I felt like I wasn't being the best fan, but I tried.

I'd only recently started doing better. I lived alone for almost six months, and it made me find myself again. And every chance I had, there was a One Direction song playing. Things were nowhere close to what they had been before 2020 but I was hoping I could change it. I'm almost old enough to get a job, and I would get myself and my family out of this mess. And probably, hopefully, still get a chance to see One Direction together. I still hoped for it after almost 9 years. Because they still make me happy. They've been the ones to get me out of situations where I wanted to kill myself, situations that I never discussed with anyone, not even my best friend.

Liam is not doing okay. I could see it. The amount of hate that he has been getting recently is disgusting. Nobody seems to care about what it could do to his confidence, and it scares me. People learnt nothing from Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's case. It worries me and I wish I were rich enough to get on a plane and see him and tell him I trust him and I love him and nobody in the world can ever tell me he could be so wrong.

I can't put into words the things that I have been feeling today. You have been pushing him too far. The man that makes my life better is suffering. To wake up to this news is not something I could have imagined. It's horrible, and I don't think I can ever recover. I think I can't trust anyone now, that I can't rely on anyone anymore. Maybe next time there won't be anyone to pull me out of things when they get too much. Maybe that could be a good thing. Because maybe I could go where he has gone and hopefully give him that hug, and tell him that I trusted him, and I can never hate him.

[eggs-and-autism]

a detailed explanation of every anime ive ever watched bc i feel like it

first of all no hate to ppl who like the stuff i trashed on here, same goes for ppl disliking the things i glazed. technically my first anime was pokemon -but thats everyone's first so ill be brief. my fav series was pokemon black & white, xy and xyz were pretty good but nothing compared to b&w.

as a kid i also loved glitter force and lolirock! not much to say i jst love cartoons. ok real post time:

in 4th grade i was really into animation story time youtubers; especially wolfichu. i NEEDED to have her artstyle. so around that time she among others had mentioned in passing tokyo mew mew, so i found a dub of it on youtube.

tokyo mew mew was okay, i wasnt invested in it i juast watched it to be more like wolfichu. i barely got like 5-10 eps in before i forgot ab it and moved on; deciding i would simply not like anime and draw in an anime artsyle in harmony.

and so i didnt watch anime for the next 2 years. i think i told people i did to be cool(i was not cool) but alas, i was a poser. in 7th grade i was online way more and saw ppl talking about anime a lot, so i made a big list of all the ones people told me to watch and decided i would watch them in the summer of 2021

a bit before summer my bff recommended i watch a silent voice. i really liked it, not much to say, its p fuckin good! i really like Shoko's design.

okay summer time-- first on the watch list was the promised neverland; i got though it in a day and felt mildly positive towards it. it was interesting when i connected it to my favorite comic at the time (space boy) but i didnt wanna rewatch.

then there was mha. my bff really liked it at the time so i did have motivation to watch it- but i felt nothing twords the plot and characters. i watched the first 3 seasons but i rember none of it bc i was so distracted and bord the whole time. no hate to mha fans!! i really wanted to get into it; but i once again came to the conclusion i am not a person who likes anime.

i focused on watching other cartoons for a while but my bff got really into attack on titan; so i said over and over i would watch it but never actually did. technically this doesnt count but i know the whole plot form he sending well structured wikipedia esc infodumps about it. so im mentioning it, sue me i dare you.

i also watched the first season of saki k. it wasnt outstanding but it was funny enough.

a good bit into 2022 i saw people on tiktok talking about watamote, it seemed interesting enough, so i watched it. i liked it more then any anime id seen before(spare a silent voice and pokemon). it wasnt really an interest, i had no further thoughts about it, it was pretty funny and the ending song is a fucking banger witch is still on all my playlists!

durring 8th grade i was also forced by my friend-at-the-time to watch komi cant communicate. now, at first i was told to watch the sub(as the dub wasn't out yet). i dont watch subs. i cant watch them at all, i read slow and there is no enjoyment for me and i dont care about the voice acting i need it out loud. but as mentioned komi had no dub for a while so i sat though the first ep and then gave up. months later; dub was out and i watched it. it was fineeee. standered. it was what i expected; i didnt really like it but i didnt hate it. i was just a person who didnt like anime. no changing that.

until-

around the end of my 8th grade year or beginning of my freshman year i saw someone on tiktok talking about school live club! it sounded really interesting so i watched it- and oh my god. i loved it. to this day i love it. SPOILERS!!: the other girls playing into Yukis delusions for their own peace of mind was fascinating. every characters personal story-- the twist with Megumi-- the depiction of ptsd with Kurumi-- the ending--- i loved it.

so naturally, i assumed it was one of a kind and i simply was not a person who liked anime.

during my freshman year i watched madoka magica. i was recommended it by a friend and it statemented itself as the second anime i turly loved. after madoka i started looking for anime i like again

bloom into you hit me on a personal level, it was like a truck that hit my face saying "hey, this is a kinda relationship that is possible", witch as of me figuring out im aroace has been more relivent to me then ever. i have trouble loving people so the idea of somone wanting a relationship because ill never romantically love them is smth i hope for- but obvi might not happen i just like that its possible.

summer before 10th grade-- i was at my fist con and decided if i couldn't find anything to buy i would at least network. i met a really cool artist and chatted with her for a while. she had a keychain i thought was cute so i asked her what it was from. thus my introduction to bochi the rock! and god, it i really wanted to like bochi. i loved guitar and wanted to learn it; i loved her design; the premise want miserably boring; i wanted to like it! but there was no dub, and god i cannot watch subs, its pathetic but i had to drop it.

during the first semester of my junior year i was still working on the future is blue. i mention this because apon seeing an anime with almost the same premise as my comic, i had to watch it. a lull in the sea was an interesting premise for sure, but i never actually finished it. the seris main theme is fish people face xenophobia, but what stuck out to me most was a pattern i noticed with how people treated the heroin. (this is from memory so i might get stuff wrong) i had BEEF with that way Manaka was constantly infanatalized by her friends. the main character constantly treats her like an idiot who is hopless without him. when she comes home crying after being cat-called by some old pos she is told shes being dramatic. like, no wonder she got close with the fisher boy so quickly, HES NICE TO HER!! still id rewatch it in theory if i have time.

and then there was talentless nana. the game changer.

♡ part 2

[sharas-bae]

the green day concert last night was absolutely everything i wanted it to be. i went with 3 childhood friends, the core group who got terrifyingly obsessed with them in 7th-8th grade in the way that only 13-year-old girls can. and it was pretty much perfect. (long reflection/ramble below the cut)

the band played all of dookie (30th anniversary) and american idiot (20th anniversary, fucking how. that album came out a few months after we all got into green day and now it's two decades old??) and a handful of songs from other albums.

the show went on for 3 hours and it was so satisfying and exhausting that i was actually ok when it ended instead of disappointed like i was at the mcr show (though of course i also would've been perfectly happy if it had gone another hour). it was a blur of singing and dancing and moments of re-realizing that this was actually happening. i was actually grateful there were a handful of newer songs i don't know as well so i could step back and just observe and soak it all in again.

the weather forecast had been very concerning, up until late morning it had showed that there would be thunderstorms until at least 6pm and that it would be pretty much constantly raining the whole time. my friend who's hosting ordered ponchos for all of us. but it ended up almost entirely dry (if cloudy, which. not a bad thing).

during the dookie set it actually did rain for several songs, but it was mostly a heavy mist? so it was basically just enough to be memorable, fun, refreshing, and then just as i was starting to regret not throwing on my poncho it stopped. and prompted a 'philly, you made me wet' from billie joe which. sometimes low-hanging fruit is the best kind.

the band's energy was fantastic. mike was running around, billie joe did a lot of the freddie mercury style 'eyy-ohs' and revving the crowd. he is such a Performer, it genuinely seemed like he was having so much fun and getting into the Very Dramatic Faces. tre came out in a fluffy jaguar-print bathrobe to perform 'all by myself' (sidebar i was wondering the whole rest of the album if they'd include the hidden track and got way too excited that they did) and was doing the hammiest 'who, me?' striptease. their little solo moments throughout the show really showed off how good they are at what they do, even when the composition is relatively simple.

the crowd was singing and dancing through all of it and i actually ended up headbanging at one point, but i couldn't tell you which song. also my knee is sore, but i expected something to be sore after that.

they had a goofy little 'bad year' blimp balloon walk around the floor (did i mention my friend scored us floor tickets??) during sassafrass roots. phone lights came out in force for give me novocaine (not as sure why this one) and a lot of people put them up for a 'tribute to loved ones' version for wake me up when september ends, which yes did make me teary.

they also invited their first opener, the linda lindas, to play a song. apparently their set was canceled (presumably because storm forecast? i'm not sure). and wow they were very good and i'm definitely chasing down all their stuff. it was cool too because while i'm sure it sucks that their set got canceled, they ended up playing for a packed stadium instead of whoever showed up early or specifically to see them.

one of the things i love about going to shows for groups that have been around for awhile is the age range of the crowd. at this show, at the mcr show, at the backstreet boys show my bff and i went to in 2011, you get middle aged fans who were full adults when the band started, plenty of people our age who were kids or teens when they took off (or in green day's case continued apace i guess), and kids who are just getting into them now. it's just really really cool.

whatsername is always bittersweet for me, so it was even moreso last night. it reminds me of the girl who i had the disastrous homoerotic friendship with, because she was part of this little circle too. one could argue from a certain light that she was the ringleader of the levels of obsession we got to. and the nature of the falling out and then later drama in our early 20s with my bff means she wasn't there with us. and the bff situation means i don't want to mention it to her, because that girl caused her a lot of pain. but that song did make me cry a little, just a moment to grieve the fact that if things had been different (and frankly, if i'd made some different choices when i was 15) she would've been there with us too. it was maybe the only thing about the night that wasn't as close to perfect as one could expect, that weird hole that we've all quietly healed around but is sometimes still very present.

anyway i'm glad they didn't end the show on whatsername. (they played bobby sox off their new album and then good riddance, which was our class song at sixth grade 'graduation' and kicked off all of this). and then we sat down until they kicked us out so the crowd could thin out a little, and took the septa back, and on the walk to my friend's house some guys porch-sitting across the street asked us if we'd been at the green day concert and cheered when we said yes.