#and like ive been high before i know what its like. and there were specific aspects of being high that i somehow took and made different

[ghoulodont]

guys this is so humiliating and embarrassing but i want to talk about it and you already know some of it anyway. basically my psychotic emergency room experience that ive talked about on here was brought about by edibles and i cant ever say that because it makes it seem like something it really wasnt. i took a normal reasonable amount & reacted completely differently than in the past. they thought i was just really really high off 1000000mg of weed. honestly it was a blessing because there was no mental health treatment involved and it could have been way worse for me. they just let me leave in the morning when i regained contact with reality

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[strangeangel22]

i love being transgender i love doing my silly little t shot every week i am so proud of who i am and what ive done to get to where i am now I LOVE BEING TRANS!!!1!!!1!😸😸😸

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. ��Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jason tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas�� face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

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⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[ririblogsss]

Ive been in a mood to write angst but I keep writing happy endings

So I read this fic ill link it when I remember the name, its basically a Suaci_al teen goes on a roadtrip before you know. But Damian escaped his mother and wanted to go meet his father, so he entered this teens van and accompanied her, and basically had a whole jurney together with each other so they could take Damian to gotham.

Anyways I got inspired by it, and thought what if the bat burger explosion still happened, but Danny decided he was more scared of becoming Dan. So he grabbed Sam's car and left Amity. During his drive he decided to honor Dani (who also passed) by going to each state before he went to the realms and locked himself in one of the darkest corners so he would never hurt anyone.

But when he was going through Philadelphia specifically he stumbles upon 2 teenagers fighting to the death arguing in front of a basically destroyed street. Danny mentally tells himself "not my crircus not my monkeys" over and over. But then he hears they are both child heroes, and he basically says 'FUCK IT WE BALL'.

Danny goes up to them and ask them if they need help with helping people out of the debris and the kids glare but relent. Cause they do need help in rescuing anyone that's in the debris.

As they finish rescuing everyone and taking them to the hospital if they need it or giving them to paramedics. They introduce each other. The younger being Billy batson (Aka Shazam) and Damian Wayne (AKA Robin) .The kids try to deny they are child heroes, but Danny just tells them he is also a hero and transforms, so they can trust him.

Apparently both Billy and Damian were sent to a nearby school to make sure nothing illegal was happening, but things got out of hand, as they always do. They bond over burgers (a veggie for Damian) and smoothies. The three fight about were the best burgers come from, Danny saying that the Best were from nasty (he gets a hazy look in his eyes when he mentions the joint). Damian argues that the bat burger are the most acceptable (high praise apparently). Billy argued for Big Belly.

In the end they parted ways, but Danny didn't know that both Billy and Damian snuck into his car. Look they didn't want to face the consequences of going against orders just yet. They had failed to tell Danny they hadn't actually been officially sent for the recon they sent themselfs.... oops

Look normally Danny would have been able to sense them or even notice the weird way his things were shifting every few minutes. But Danny wasn't in his right mind. He wasn't copping with his loss and grief as he should (not that there is a right way to grief) but Danny wasn't himself, so it wasn't until he got to savannah as a pit stop that he noticed the 2 extra passangers.

the interaction went something like this:

Billy: Can we stop now. I need to pee!

Danny: HOLy SHHH MaCaRONi!! (swearing the car almost causing a car accident)

Damian: Your spacial awareness skills need refining. But given your current position is understandable.

Danny: MY current position/?

Billy: Hahahaha about that you mutter and speak to yourself out loud a lot.

Damian: yes and clearly you are under no position to be making decision. So we are taking responsibility about your well being.

Billy: ahahahaha yeah no other reason, its not like our adopted father who is also our vigilante boss is currently hunting us down for disobeying not at all hahahahaha.

Danny: What the FU-dge stick

thus commences the road-trip of hell. Somehow Billy and Damian were able to convince Danny of bringing them along and trying to avoid the Big Bat.

[awsugar]

And I forgot about the DRUMS!!! I think this is an album they may have been working on for years. I think they are going for a magnum opus

yea so i read this went you sent it at 6am cause ive been out of work sick for a few days now and my sleep is allll messed up. and i tinhatted EXTREMELY close to the sun on this one. but i kind of think im cooking. so let me explain.

also ill just say i think because we know somethings coming but we dont know what BUT we know there are threads throughout somehow connecting things from years prior like. all tinhatting is plausible until proven otherwise. if we want to draw a connection between two things we CAN. and i think thats why im so on board with mcr5 now when i havent been since 2019. bc ive done this before. i was in the trenches for the danger days rollout/promo and the transmissions on the website and everything and THAT was one of the most exciting times of my life and THIS reminds me of that. im glad people never gave up on mcr5 but they never gave me ENOUGH before now to really run with. and now they have and its a free for all. THIS is what being an mcr fan is about. tbh. this is what this fandom has been missing for AGES. when they dont give us teasers and lore and crpytic messages we devolve into like theorizing and arguing with each other about who they are as people. but this is the basis of mcr community to me....getting together with your pals inside your phone and inside your laptop (who now have grown ito irl friends for so many of us) and dissecting every shred of info they give us. thank god for my chemical romance.

ANYWAY sorry that. went down a path i didnt intend when i started. so yes um so what you said about them going for a magnum opus. let me tell you a little story. when i was in my first year of being a my chem fan, i was 13, i became QUICKLY obsessed, first with the black parade and then after i spent i think 2 months straight listening to nothing but the black parade on repeat all day every day (literally) i ventured into their other stuff and got like really sucked in to everything else, reading articles and interviews and watching every video of them youtube had to offer and talking about them 24/7 on the forums instead of doing homework, i would sneak the family laptop into my room at night so i could keep reading about them and talking about them instead of having to go to sleep it was THE most exhilarating and exciting time of my life. anyway. i remember (16 years later) reading a specific review of the black parade that said something like "my chemical romance will never top this album and they know it" and i STILL REMEMBER sitting on the couch and crying over it. because i had never listened to music that had made such an impact on me as the black parade IN MY LIFE. nothing had ever made me feel that way and that strongly as listening to that album. you know how we all always say we wish we could listen to my chem for the first time again just to have that feeling again. that was me. i had never experienced an album of their when it came out and i felt like the author of the article was telling me that i would basically never acheive that high again. it was devastating. i promise this is relevant. bc regardless of your PERSONAL FAVORITE my chem album, it is generally agreed upon that the black parade is their magnum opus. it just is. both in scale and musically and its impact on pop culture and its the best known to a general audience.

so you say they're going for a magnum opus. when the black parade is DEAD. they killed it. (in the new lore they were sent to the MOAT which i assume is some kind of exile and stripping of their status as the national band)

and so i started thinking about "in the face of extermination say FUCK YOU" and i think this applies here two-fold actually. MAYBE 3-fold. on one hand, in-universe. extermination being the concrete age, the dictator holding the people down and exterminating their livelihood. but also the extermination of the black parade! and then - irl - we have the extermination of mcr's chances of doing something huge again like this. music publications resigning them as soon as the album came out to never achieving something as epic and grand as that again.

and the FUCK YOU being, the opposition of the dictator from the people, the black parade being reinstated but? maybe they have plans to overthrow the dictator? IRL mcr saying fuck you, we can actually use the concept that you said was the best we would ever do, completely turn it on its head, and make something even more grandiose and epic and MAGNUM OPUS.

and also hail just reminded me obv of the UNKILLABLES drumhead in sydney. which both relates to franks personal experience there but also like. with this concept of in the face of extermination say fuck you. along with his end of tour post being a cockroach, notoriously unkillable! notoriously a target for extermination!!!!

god theres so many layers to this but i needed to get it off my chest do you still like me

[rqbossman]

Hello Mr Bossman! (and possibly anyone else who reads this)

Its an honour to be here, I have a few questions. First i appologise for the long paragraph, you may dismiss it for the questions at the bottom. For context, i am here after finishing TMA and being up to date with TMAP, i then went over and listened to RQG, and have just finished listening to Epilogue 3 and might i just say, good sir I am grateful for your podcasts. I am currently just a few months away from my final exams of High School, and as someone who even just 1 year ago was very lost, struggling with school and being just overwhelmed. TMA isnt exactly comforting, but the characters and plot managed to serve as a good form of escapism while sorting myself out. I found my self engaging more in creative things that i had originally put aside in favour of maths and science (which i hated but thought i needed to do). I started drawing again, even if just fanart. and i found things going well. By finding podcasts, story telling and these communities have helped me in my own understanding of what i want in life. I got an ADHD diagnosis earlier this year, and almost directly after started RQG and as my first hyperfixation (that i was aware of as an hyperfixation) gosh dang it hit hard. (in a good way). Ive been able to do so much more creative writing and drawings, and got re-involved with a small dnd group with some friends who i played one game with almost 4 years ago now. So overall, inspirational sounds cringe, but it was. Im doing my best with the upcoming exams, but trying to get in to Medicine is not my only prority, and the fact ive been re-introduced to my first love (Literature and story telling), im planning to go do an Arts degree and i know i wouldnt have been able to confidently make this decision, or even have survived this long in the school system without the work you and your coworkers do. Now the sap is out of the way, Question time! (if you could answer even just one of these questions it would be so cool)(they go in order of RQ relevant to random stuff)(dont feel pressured to answer all/any. i know i wrote alot): 1. what would you say is the best way to draft out a long-form story. (with "Erasing the Line" as an example) Did you start at the end, with the links to the overarching plot.

2. When working with the players (in a form of TTRPG), what did you do to make sure you didnt miss relevant timing of plot points/ avoid creating spoilers while still giving enough detail?

3. What are good places to start with making a job out of storytelling/voice acting/audio etc. In the case of RQ, how is this a job and where do i sign up please! /j (what i mean is, how is best way/how did you find all the people involved and was there a common path that you were all on before getting to where you are now?) 4. Do you have recommendations for Terry Pratchett Books, i may be an literary-leaning student, but it seems i have never actually properly read any of his books. so where is best place to start?/What did you read first?

5. Similar authors or similar inspirations? Did you have a favourite podcast you listen to in your free time that you havnt had a hand in producing/directing/working on. 6. Favourite song/album/artist. And more specifically, what you like listening to in background when doing either writing or (for ttrpg) character research/game planing. 7. Since the olympics are on at the moment, what has been your favourite sport to watch, if you have been watching at all. Thank you for your time :)

Thankyou for all the kind words. Knowing our work is helping people really keeps our engines fired up. Let's see if I can't answer your questions: 1. I "sandbox" which is where I just shove everything I can think of into an unorganised bullet point list. Characters, setting, plot, all of it in one big mess. Then I decide what type of story you want to tell, copy and paste to a new document and then start to organise the thoughts (with the sandbox on standby if new stuff comes in I don't know what to do with). I think of it like scultping, you cut away bits and reshape until something comes out the other end that is story shaped. Only then do I attempt to build the sandcastle and put something coherant together like a synopsis or scratch draft etc.

2. Very tricky. I did a complete review and update of all notes after each recording session and don't forget the audio eas edited. I made lots of gaffs that you never heard as audience.

3. I contacted anyone I could convince to take part and just proved I was serious by overworking. I don't reccomend that route. Unfortunately it really is "who" you know. That doesn't mean chase established professionals as much as it means you need to get out there and associate with other up-and-comers who match your vibe. For me the route was long and windy and not a particularly good example. 4. I normally recommend people do not read his books in publication order. Don't get me wrong, its wonderful watching his craft grow from one title to the next but I would recommend new readers tip their toe into his later works to see if they like where he ended up before committing the time. I often recommend 'Monstrous Regiment' as people's first one. My favourite though is 'Thief of Time.'

5. I don't get much time to listen to podcasts in the last couple of years. I used to listen to a lot of non fiction. 'Stuff you Should Know' and that ilk. I also read a fair amount of classic YA fiction to unwind (Windinsger trilogy, Bartimeous, stuff like that.) 6. Paul Simon's Graceland but when working I assemble a playlist for each seperate project that is tonally appropriate. If I really need to focus I listen to Classical Minimalism. Or the Old School Runescape soundtrack. I'm allowed to be ecclectic. 7. I am actually in an incredibly busy work crunch at the moment so haven't seen any of it!

[silverschaos]

bite my tongue / tate langdon.

Pairing: Tate Langdon x Reader Description: You turn into a flirt and Tate apparently has an issue with that. Warnings: mentions of murder (more specifically tate wanting to murder someone 💀), mentions of death. Word Count: 1290 A/N: listen ive never wrote tate before and i wasn't gonna but im in my ahs rewatch era and... this happened. i also ramble a lot. sry. apparently i need a backstory for everything and dont know how to end things 😩

The thing was you'd been stuck in this house for years. Years upon years and you were starting to get bored. So bored that you'd decided to seek out some 'fun' as you called it. Did that fun consist of trying to find someone in the house that you could spend some time with? It sure did but what else was there to do? You couldn't leave, you couldn't go out and live the normal life that'd you'd planned before you'd met your untimely demise so the house and its inhabitants were all you had to occupy your time with. It wasn't like you were seeking to sleep with anyone. Just a little flirt here and there but it was enough to make your best friend - Tate Langdon - furious.

This wasn't you. You didn't do things like this. That was why Tate liked you. You were everything he wasn't. You were good, you were kind, you liked to see the best in people. As long as he'd known you, he'd never seen you this way.

Tate was at his wits end when he saw you flirting with his mom's old boyfriend. What was his name again? Travis. That was it. Tate had never been a fan. Not that he cared who his mother dated. He didn't in the slightest but he cared about who you were messing around with. It seemed like you'd taken a shine to Travis. The mere thought of that stirred up the rage swirling within him. Was there a way to kill someone that was already dead?

"Why do you care who she spends her time with anyway?" Hayden asked him one day when he stood watching you laughing at something Travis said.

"Because she's my best friend."

"Best friend? Okay, sure."

Tate rounded on Hayden, an accusatory brow raised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Hayden laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

Weeks passed and it was getting harder and harder for Tate to not say anything. It was driving him crazy. Well crazier than he already was. His jaw clenched as he watched you flirty place your hand on Travis' chest. That rage flared within him again -- imagining a thousand different ways he'd kill Travis if he was actually still alive.

Meanwhile, you were oblivious to Tate's inner turmoil. Travis was fun, he made you laugh and maybe, besides Tate, he was the only decent looking one in the house. Minus Ben but he was about thirty years older than you and the thought alone made you want to barf. That was a no-go. And, Tate, well, he was your best friend. He had been before you died and he was still now when you were both stuck in this purgatory hell of a house. Maybe once or twice you'd thought about what it'd be like to kiss him but that was it. Definitely not daily. Definitely not something you'd had dreams about. Nope.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Tate watching you talk to Travis. He leaned against the doorframe of the spare bedroom adorned in one of his infamous striped sweaters, his hair a mess of blonde curls. The look on his face was anything but friendly, though. It was a look you'd recognise anywhere. A look that would make a lot of people quiver in their boots but not you.

Tate had been your first friend in high school when you'd first started there. Technically, he didn't really have a say in it. For some reason the school had thought it was a good idea for him to be the one to show you around thinking it would be nice for him to talk to other students since he was often a recluse. At first, he didn't utter a word to you as he walked you around the school then he started opening up a little bit more. Soon, you found yourself seeking out his company, spending time together outside of school. He confided his secrets in you and vice versa. So, when you had the accident on his front lawn and he found you, that had been the start of his spiral. Losing his best friend like that - along with everything else he'd gone through - had been the tip of the iceberg.

He had his demons, you had yours but still even now he was the one person you knew would always be by your side. He was a terrible person - there was no doubt about that but there was also a side to him that only you knew and that was the side you hopelessly clung onto. It was why you'd defend him whenever anyone in the house started to say anything against him. The rational side of you knew they had every right to call him the names they did but your heart wouldn't have it.

Another glance in Tate's direction and you saw that he'd disappeared. Saying your goodbye to Travis, you headed out into the hallway. "Tate?"

It took a millimetre of a second before he came out of the next room, arms folded over his chest looking at you. "What?"

"Okay, wow, did someone piss in your cereal?"

"Ha ha, hilarious," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you?" Your eyes narrowed, folding your own arms across your chest.

Flabbergasted, Tate shook his head in disbelief that you were even asking such a question. "I can't keep biting my tongue anymore. I have to say something."

"About?"

"You! And how you're acting! Seriously, do you think I haven't noticed you throwing yourself over Travis especially? Are you just trying to make me mad? This isn't you! You don't do this. You're... you're the good one. You're the one that makes good decisions." Tate ran a hand over his face, his eyes almost pleading as he looked at you.

"Why is it any of your business who I flirt with anyway? Maybe this is me now. Maybe being stuck in this place for the rest of eternity changed me. Maybe I'm just like everyone else here." You shot back at him. Hopefully the faux confidence in your voice threw him off the fact that your dead heart was beating hard against your chest.

"Because I love you! I love you and you don't even look at me!"

That threw you off centre. Literally. You almost fell backwards, having to place a hand on the wall beside you to right yourself. All the air was knocked out of you. Surely he hadn't really just said that.

"I know you better than anyone here," Tate continued, taking a step forward. A cautious one. "You're not like anyone here. You never will be. I won't let you be. You are the only thing I care about in this forsaken place and I won't let this house ruin you like it did me. So, stop. Please, stop. I can't stand by and watch you throw yourself at everyone else when I've been right here the whole time."

Tears brimmed in your eyes when you noticed his eyes were watering, too. Tate had always been a sensitive boy. Constance always said it and you always witnessed it first hand. Seeing him cry always broke you. Taking a step forward, you place a hand gently on his cheek, wiping his eyes with the pad of your thumb.

"Okay," you said, softly. "I'll stop. For you. I'm sorry. I-I didn't know."

"S'fine."

"No, it's not. And, for the record, I think I love you, too."

And, there it was, that infamous Tate Langdon smile that you would never, ever tire of seeing. Eternity wouldn't be so bad if you saw that everyday.

[fir3ylolol]

hi fir3y :3333 can we have more johnny cage x camera stuff (anything related, nothing specific; cameras in house, recording w phone etc) w him having a long time crush for y/n 😁 kind of like how you did w smile! you're on camera (i cant remember if i sent this if i already did im sorry 😥😥)

dazed and confused

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: it's been a while since you've seen your good friend johnny. but what happens when long-time crush mixes with weed?

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, blowjob, eating out, cunnilingus, long-time crush, weed usage, intoxicated sex, loss of inhibitions, praise, filmed, sex tape, cumming inside, cum eating, putting on a show, whimpering men heheheh, afab!reader, gn reader

a/n: YAYYY finally another post!! its been forever. this was requested by @keiiikomegumi. gotta love men who fall hard and fuck desperately O.O also i think this is the longest fic other than we want you! ive ever written lol

word count: 2.65 k

Ao3

It’s been about 3 weeks since you last saw Johnny, which kinda sucks. He’s always a lot of fun, and you’ve been really stressed lately. So when you get his text reading, “come over 4 dinner, we can chill 0.o”, you quickly respond, “see u thennn”. You leave shortly afterward, excited to finally relax. You roll into his driveway after about 30 minutes of driving, seeing Johnny’s shadowed figure standing in the doorway. You hop out excitedly, walking over and capturing him in a tight hug. He laughs, hugging you back just as tight. “Hey! I’ve missed you, it’s been wayyyy too long. Come in, I’ve already got some food ready.” You walk in, drinking in the familiar sight of his home. You see the table set, two spots right next to each other, with a suspicious look on his face.

“So what do you have in store for me?” You sit down, watching as he disappears into the kitchen. “Well, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and so have I. So…” He walks out, a large silver plate covered with a cloche. “I figured we deserved a treat,” he says with a smirk, lifting it and revealing two brownies. Realization hits you hard. You see, this is California, and if there’s any pastime Californians love, it’s getting high. Johnny is no different; in fact, he likes edibles more, since he says smoking will “damage his star-quality voice and flawless skin.” But he lives a stressful life, and he needs a break just as much as you. So seeing two, delicious-looking brownies on separate plates, you know exactly why you were invited. And you nearly cry.

“Johnny…” you smile up at him, “thank you. So much.” His eyes light up, placing the plates down for you two as he sits down next to you. “Yay, I knew you would be happy! Ok, I’ve got plenty of snacks in the fridge and cold ass water, so we’re set.” He picks his brownie up, and you follow, clinking them together like glasses before taking a bite. It’s rich, fudgy, and absolutely one of the best brownies you’ve ever had. With a mouthful of food, you try to speak, “Schit manm, ‘his is schoo good.” He laughs at you, finishing his bite before speaking, “It’s been barely a month and you’ve forgotten your manners?” You smack him lightly, before standing up and getting a glass of water, downing the whole thing. He follows you, giving you a big hug from behind. He’s rocking back and forth, face buried in your neck. He’s always been more touchy with you than his other friends, but you don’t mind. He’s warm and gentle and always smells fancy. But you laugh, rocking with him. “The room’s already spinning, oooooh.” He lifts you slightly, walking through the kitchen. “You’re so high, oh noooo!” He set you down, laughing still. “You’re so much fun, I missed you.”

You feel a slight twinge in your heart, the words must mean more to you than it does to him. You’ve been a little glad not to see him honestly, but only because your feelings for him have gotten that intense. A break was just what you needed, but now? When you’re going to be wasted and he’s just so nice and so close? You might break. But for now, you appear cool laughing as well before managing to say, “I missed you too” without seeming suspicious. And you start to fall into the same routine as usual, he leads you to the couch to chill together and watch something fun. He used to go to the cinema room, but once he got too high, watched Rambo on the big screen, and had a panic attack. Plus, you can’t cuddle in there, and he can’t stand for that, loudly declaring that he’ll rip the chairs out every time you two go in there. But he never does. You two end up talking about the weeks you didn’t see him. He’s been working on a new film, but won’t reveal any details other than it’s “based on a super true story”. And he laments how hard you’ve been working, trying to convince you again, “You should just quit and hang with me all the time. It would be awesome.” But alas, you turn him down again, as tempting as it is.

Before you know it, it’s been almost two hours, and you’re definitely feeling it more, the buzzing in your brain is a little louder, and Johnny’s touch gives you more goosebumps. But he leans back suddenly, looking you up and down. “Wait, I just realized, I can’t remember the last time you told me one of your famous bad date stories. What’s going on?” You fluster at his words, so direct and to the point that you can’t think for a second. You finally manage to speak again, your tongue feeling a little too heavy, “I’ve just been busy, man.” He scrunches up his face, thinking deeply. “When was the last time you got some? You know…” He nudges you, eyebrows raised suggestively. You take an embarrassingly long pause before speaking again. “...a year.” 

He leans forward, directly in front of your face. “A year?! How are you even alive??” You push him as playfully as you can, completely flustered by the whole thing. “Quit it, it’s not funny!” He sighs dramatically, splayed out across the couch. “So what’s up? Someone catch your eye or something?” You pause again, trying not to look at him, but your mouth betrays you. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s fine, he doesn’t like me like that.” He scoffs, head still tipped back, “What an idiot. You’re awesome. He’s really lucky I don’t just snatch you away for myself.” His whole body freezes as if he said something he didn’t mean to. You look at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. “W…what?” You ask tentatively. But he stands up, walking away while waving his arms around, “Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” But you can see the tips of his ears are bright red, and he’s tapping his foot on the ground, something he only does when nervous. You stand up and walk over, staying behind him. “Johnny, it’s something. Just tell me, it’ll be ok.” He takes a deep breath before speaking, still turned away from you. “I said he was lucky I didn’t take you for myself. I didn’t mean to say it, but honestly, it’s true. I mean, what kind of idiot doesn’t like the most stunning person alive? I just…I said too much, and I didn’t want to weird you out because you’re such a great friend and…” He’s babbling on, saying way too much and not making a ton of sense.

But you grab his hand lightly, which causes him to turn around. His eyes are watery, his cheeks and the tip of his nose are red, and his mouth is scrunched up in a frown. You can’t help but smile at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “Do you like me, Johnny?” He nods like a child, free hand coming up to wipe his eyes. “I like you too,” you say with a smile, no longer nervous or guilty of your feelings. He sniffles, looking at you with his wide brown eyes, “Really? You do?” As you nod, he sort of snaps back to usual, but not in a performative way, in a happy way. “Well of course you do! Who could resist all this?” He smiles before pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers in your ear before he pulls away. But not fully, as you two lock eyes, and the air grows thick again. You swallow hard, eyes darting across his face nervously. He cups your face with his left hand, and slowly leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s exactly like him, warm and gentle, and it makes you dizzy. In fact, you feel your knees buckle slightly, which he laughs at into the kiss. As he pulls away to breathe again, you can’t help but feel hungry for more. You’ve only gotten a taste of what you’ve wanted for so long, and it’s very appetizing.

Johnny quickly pulls you back to the couch, barely able to think before you find yourself on his lap, hands wandering around your back, eyes locked onto yours. His touch is even more intoxicating than normal, with heavy breathing and racing hearts shared between you two. One hand reaches your neck, pulling you back in. But he’s not as gentle this time, like he’s trying to devour you whole. His other hand is on your hip, guiding you to grind against him slowly. Your hands wrap around his neck loosely. He groans into your mouth, squeezing tighter. You feel his tongue in your mouth, desperate for more of you, more than there is. You can feel yourself growing wetter, so high that your previous inhibitions are gone. Everything is happening so fast, and you’re starting to feel desperate.

He finally breaks away, panting heavily, before looking at you needily. And with how pretty his flushed face is and how badly he wants you, you can’t help but slide down to the floor between his legs. His pupils are blown out, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He tries desperately to pull his pants down quickly, struggling slightly.  But he finally frees himself, cock bouncing out as the angry red tip leaks out. He’s embarrassed, turning his head away slightly, but keeping his eyes locked on you. You have no time to tease, absolutely hungry for him, for this. You take him in your mouth, getting most of the way down before you stop, looking up at him sweetly. He gasps, eyes wide and hands clutching at the couch cushions. You start to move, swirling your tongue around him as you keep a steady pace. His eyelids are fluttering, and very quickly he darts his hands out to grab your face lightly, bringing you up to face him. “C-can I film you? I just…I’ve wanted this for so long and you just look so pretty and I just…I don’t want to forget this, any detail of this.” 

You nod lazily, a smile spreading across your lips as you watch him scramble for his phone. He holds it up, hands shaking as he starts filming. You decide to put on a show for him, looking up through your lashes as you go down again, able to get almost all the way down, gagging slightly. He white knuckles the phone, staring at you intensely. His other hand comes up, grabbing your hair in one hand. His voice rasps out, “Wanna see that face, all of it. God, you’re so good at this. Fuck…” He sighs as you reach your hand out, starting to stroke him as you lean your head down, licking at his balls. He jumps slightly, but the most lovely whine escapes his lips, so you continue, trying to overwhelm him with pleasure. And overwhelm him you do, as he starts squirming back and forth at the intensity of it all, more heady whines. He finally remembers to hold the camera steady, trying to still himself. But as you go down again, rapid and sloppy moves, eyes watering as you look up again, his grasp on your hair tightens. He cries out as he cums, shuddering as you keep going, swallowing it all. You pull off with a pant, looking into the camera and sticking out your tongue to show what you did. He’s breathing hard, letting go of your hair and going slightly slack on the couch. But he tugs at your shirt, pulling it over your head. Even fucked out, he wants more.

You stand up, half-naked, and he tries his hardest to get your pants off too. But his hands are too shaky, and he’s trying to keep his grip on the camera. So you step back and slowly peel them off for him, and you can see his cock twitch slightly at the sight of you. You climb back on top of him, kissing him gently. But he leans to the side, propping the phone against the arm of the couch, and flips to the front camera. He shuffles down a little, leaning slightly to pull his pants down further as you pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his warm skin against yours. He kisses your cheek, and down your neck, reveling in the way you arch your back at the feeling. He whispers out shakily, “You ready? Gonna put a show on for me?” You nod, head dizzy again, as he rubs himself against you, audibly groaning at the feeling. He has no time to waste, sinking into you with a heady whimper. You gasp, taking a second to adjust to him, feeling his hands cling to your hips.

But it’s not long before he’s bucking up into you, using his grip on you for leverage. He’s bit down on your shoulder, whimpers slipping out. Your arms are behind his neck, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You feel him let go, raspy whispers in your ear, “You’re so hot, shit, so tight around me. You like putting on a show for me? Yeah?” You nod, moans pushed out at the force he’s moving now. His voice is shaking more now, but he can’t stop talking, “Shit, I don’t know if it’s the weed talking or what, but you’re so fucking good. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you sooner-” He’s cut off, a whimper as he manages to push deeper, completely enveloped in you. He’s losing his mind, hands wrap around your back for more leverage. But it’s not long before he’s cumming again, a whine as he pushes you down as far as he can. He’s trembling more, heavy pants in your ear. But finally, he’s lifting you and setting you down on the couch. Both of you are breathing heavily, trying to calm down after everything. 

That is until he grabs the phone and puts it in your hands. Confused, you look at him, but suddenly, he’s between your thighs, kneeling on the ground. “Can’t leave you wanting, especially after all that.” He dives in, with no sense of patience, as he sucks at your throbbing clit. His fingers pump inside you, your wetness mixing with his cum. You keep the camera on his face, legs pushed apart as you flinch at your sensitivity. He’s looking up at you, sweet eyes locked on you. He lets go slightly, mumbling into you, “Good job, baby, you’re doing such a good job.” You’re moaning, high-pitched, and slipping from your lips. He’s whining into your sopping cunt, vibrations against your clit causing more jumps. But you cling to him, eyes screwed shut as you cum hard, feeling his tongue lapping everything up with fervor. He finally separates from you, sitting down on the couch with an exhale.

He takes the phone, stopping the recording as he puts his arm around you. “I’ll save those for later,” he says, making you giggle slightly, but you’re quite tired. “We should get high more often, huh?” You snuggle into him, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat under your ear. “Maybe. But hey, those videos better not get leaked or anything.” Your words cause him to whine out, slightly annoyed. “Come on, you know me! I would never. Besides…it would make too many people jealous, you know? Such a pretty thing like you, all for myself.” You laugh again before looking up at him, sleepy but happy eyes. “You’re stuck with me now, by the way.” He hugs you tight, squeezing you with a wide smile on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[shreddeddescent]

OKAY!!!!

okay. so. i want to share this for anyone who is like.... cool about this worst case scenario bullshit i keep talking about. i think im writing it kinda good or at least in a compelling way, and honestlyyyy i just wanna post shit to be like hey. im having fun with it, and i think its really interesting to see how it all turns out. i think its been fun every other time ive posted about it, you guys seem to like it, but this is the part that will come off the most weird. if you dont know, ive tagged all previous things in this timeline as #wcs (worst case scenario)

so i think yall get this is like. the fucked up timeline. but like that its the going to be okay timeline too.

to explain more about it if you dont know, lets just say like. shredder did the fucked up thing he wanted. i think ive made that clear in previous posts about this. shredders dead now. they had to deal with the consequences of what he did to them. if the implications of that squick you out its totally fine. if youre not sure what i mean, im sorry. you DO NOT need to read further. but theres nothing specific about it here, this is just alllll the result of that. the results will be made clear by the end.

they went to big mama's hotel to get help from her with said consequences. its been dealt with. theyre now just recovering, being normal kids, still going to therapy. they're coping. but big mama's help always comes with a cost, but they havent figured out what that cost was yet.

so like. its been fun to explore in writing. IF YOURE WILLING to hear me out about all the fucked up shit turning out okay, feel free to read further. even if it sounds weird. i hope everyone can just be like.... respectful.

this doesnt have to be canon to the rest of my au, but if youve enjoyed it when ive talked about it....this is a big reveal shit for that timeline. if you are cool about everything im implying so far.

if youre not, again, you dont have to read forward. this isnt mature rated or anything, its just the implications of what the characters have been through are dark.

but the characters are going to be okay. and this right here is the reason they will be.

okay? okay. please be fucking nice.

missing context would be: raph saw someone in their room the night before, but he thinks he made it up. donnie also saw what he thinks was a ghost.

they went out for breakfast, and raph saw a turtle yokai he couldnt help but chase to the elevator who said her name was jennika, but she really wouldnt look him in the eye. and then they all discussed whether shredder had another experiment done before they existed.

questioning their origins, donnie and mikey scout the pool for recon as leo and raph come back from their joint therapy session with big mama.

--

The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the pool area. It seemed to be a rooftop pool, but the elevator had felt like it was going down. The view was the highest they’d seen, and yet the air was warmer than it had been in their room. And there was no wind, unlike their room.

They looked around and spotted their brothers, Donnie was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in, looking at his phone, while Mikey was doing laps.

Leo grabbed Raph’s arm and the two of them wandered over.

“Hey guys.” He said. “How’s the mission going?”

Donnie looked up and looked around. “No other turtles spotted here.”

Mikey jumped out of the water with a splash. “Yeah, just old people really. I don’t think they liked us.”

“You were doing cannonballs, that's why.”

Raph wandered over to the edge of the roof, resting his hands on the railing and staring out at the city. It was so high. Higher than fathers tower was. In fact he could see Foot Tower in the distance, dwarfed by this view.

He was above it. He was beyond it. But god were they ever high.

He felt Leo walk up behind him. “I hate this view.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’m surprised I don’t feel sick. I hate heights.”

He felt him step beside him and press his shoulder against his. “I know what you mean… it’s like it’s not a real height. There’s none of that wind whipping in your face. Like a big realistic dome with a view.”

Raph nodded, squinting out at the view. “The feeling of the window was freezing.. like ice. And here there’s no wind at all.”

“Me and Slash got Big Mama to tell us there’s some kind of cross dimensional portals between the floors.. that there’s protection magic around the floors. I wonder if something broke the one by our window.”

Raph tapped his fingers against the railing.

“Maybe…”

“You okay..?”

He looked up at him nervously.

“I’m… scared, honestly.. and I’m not sure why.”

Leo smiled down at him. “We’re gonna be okay. We got this, partner.” He held out his fist for a bump.

Raph ignored it to give him a tight hug.

Leo rubbed his back lightly and looked back over at the twins.

“Should we get the raisins out of here? Or do you want more recon?”

Raph sighed and let go. “I think I’d like to stay out of the room for a while. Try and relax.”

“Didn’t bring a bathing suit. Mikeys got those shorts, but you’re wearing jeans.”

Raph shook his head and looked around at what other yokai were wearing. Some were in bathing suits, others looked more naked from what he could tell.

He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable being naked though, shell or not.

“Maybe I’ll just sit.” He said as he spotted a lounge chair to the side.

Leo walked past him to go talk to the twins again and he watched them. He felt like a mom again. Out with her kids. At least he didn’t look like Splinter this time. Bathrobe and all.

It was about noon and the sun was shining, so it was getting busier the longer they stayed out here. But he just sat in the warm sun and let himself feel calm, he watched Mikey try and splash Donnie to coax him in, watched Leo strip down to his sweatpants to wrestle with their baby brother in the pool.

At some point Donnie wandered over to hand him his electronics and he smiled at him.

“You wanna get in?” Raph asked him, surprised.

He shrugged. “Might as well live in the moment for once. It is a nice day, and we’re not too weird here.”

“You want me to help you with your braces?”

“Nah, I’ll need them. I don’t care if they get wet.” He pulled his hoodie off and Raph stared at him. He never went anywhere without something on his chest.

He was surprised how weird it felt to see him like that in public. Donnie was somewhat round like Raph, but had more masculine features, for a turtle. But no muscle definition. Even in the cage he’d been wearing his hoodie. But he was feeling more free right now. Maybe this place was good for them.

Donnie pointed at his phone and headphones.

“If you don’t wanna join, you can like... Read or listen to music. There’s free wifi here.”

Raph hummed and put the headphones on.

“Thanks Donnie…”

He shrugged and made his way into the pool to try doing laps. Which for him was holding the edge the whole time.

Raph eyed the phone and looked through his music. Not much he recognized. He found Queen though, and decided to play that and close his eyes. Letting himself be a turtle basking in the sunlight for about 20 minutes.

He sensed someone sit near him and opened his eyes.

A tall furry lion Yokai was in his sunlight, looking down at him.

And suddenly he felt uncomfortable.

They seemed to be talking to him so he pulled the headphones off.

“Huh?”

“I said kinda a weird look for the pool. The jeans.”

Raph looked down at himself and back up.

“Yeah. Wasn’t planning on coming to the pool.”

He gestured over to his brothers with his head.

“Those your kids?”

Raph furrowed his brows and looked over at his brothers. They seemed to be having fun splashing each other.

“Kinda, yeah?”

“Huh. That one your… husband?”

Raph felt his face flush as he looked over at Leo.

“No, that’s my brother.”

He raised his brows and smirked. “So you’re a single mom?”

‘Female female female!’

His body felt cold despite the heat from the sun.

“Sorry, bet they dragged you out here without a bathing suit. Shame, you look like you’ve got a good figure…”

‘You’re going to get assaulted again!’

His heart was pounding in his chest. He looked in Leo’s direction desperately, needing someone to help him.

“Hey kid.” A deep familiar voice behind him said as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The lion looked over him nervously.

Raph watched as the backside of a tall muscular turtle stepped into view, shielding him from the Lion’s gaze. They were wearing flowery swim trunks.

“That’s my son you’re talking to. He’s 17. Do I need to call security?” The voice said angrily. “Or are you gonna fuck off?”

Raph tried to quiet his beating heart. He felt like he might throw up. He felt like Slash might jump out.

And yet… This turtle made him feel safe.

“U-uh no problem man! My bad!” The lion quickly rose up and left. And the turtle took the chair and sat down beside him.

Raph looked at him nervously.

Broad shouldered and maybe 30 years old, his skin was a dull light green, his plastron wide and pointier than Raph had ever seen. Thick legs and strong arms. He looked tired but smiled warmly at him with wide, kind eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Raph stared at him nervously, pressing his hand to his chest.

“I-I might be having a panic attack…” he said softly.

The turtle reached out to offer his hand.

“You want me to count for breathing?”

Raph nodded quickly, taking his hand.

“In one two three four… out one two three four...”

He closed his eyes and followed the turtle's instructions. After a few minutes he felt okay again and stared down at the hand in his.

Two fingers. Their hands were so similar, but his were much larger.

He looked up at his face. He’d seen those eyes.

In the dark.

“It’s.. it’s you.”

He grunted softly in affirmation.

“You keep trying to get into trouble.”

Raph stared at him hard. He wanted to look away but he was terrified the man would disappear.

“What.. What's your name?”

“Kirby.”

“W-why are you following me? Why were you…”

“I just said you keep getting into trouble.”

Raph felt his eyes water as he stared at him.

“I-I’m not trying to, I thought I could just… be out in public, but I guess I’m too much of a s-slut…”

Kirby winced and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding Raph's hand in both of his, staring at him so kindly.

“You’re not. People always want to take advantage of you. I’m sorry, it’s not fair.”

“W-why do you know that..? W-who are you..?”

He shook his head. “Just someone who cares.”

“D-do you know Jennika..?”

He laughed. A familiar laugh. “Yeah. We know each other.”

“Why… why did she cry when she looked at me?”

He shrugged. “She’s got complicated feelings. Hard to explain.”

“I-I’m not scared of you. I should be, I don’t know you…”

“You kinda know me though.” He said, a weird glint in his eye.

Raph grunted and stared at him frustrated. “Why are you so vague and annoying?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. Ah. Leo’s noticed. You should be fine now.” He pulled away from his grasped hand.

“Hey!” They heard Leo yell from the edge of the pool.

Raph didn’t turn. He watched Kirby bolt up and give him a salute before disappearing into the crowd, he presumed to the elevator.

Raph just stared blankly at the space he’d been.

Leo sat in front of him, dripping wet and waving his hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?!”

Raph looked up at him and shook his head slowly. “No… h-he… uh, saved me..? There was.. a guy trying to…” he closed his eyes and winced. “He saved me.” He looked back at Leo, who looked worried.

“What did he say? Did you get anything out of him?”

Raph rolled onto his back and stared at the pool.

“His name’s Kirby. He says I keep getting into trouble. He pretended he was my dad to make a guy leave… I.. I felt really safe.”

Leo groaned and lay back on the chair. “What the hell is going on…?”

“I-I didn’t want him to leave..” he whispered and held himself. His heart hurt.

Leo looked at him sadly. “Raph..?”

“I-I knew him… h-he said I knew him…”

Leo frowned and rubbed his neck. “Maybe it’s like.. You said he pretended to be your dad. Maybe it’s not pretend. Maybe he’s our real dad. Maybe he’s our dad, and Jennika’s our mom and that’s where we really came from.”

Raph looked up at him. “Jennika wasn’t female… she.. she had a plastron like you, not me. Her tail was long. A-and dad.. dad was so clear our human stuff is his… They couldn’t have made us.”

He sighed. “Let’s just imagine we get to come from somewhere better though, yeah..?”

He looked up at him sadly and nodded.

“O-okay…”

“Do you want to go back to the room..? Cuz we can go…”

He looked over at the twins and saw they were just splashing each other. It looked fun.

“I.. I wanna join, but…” he looked down at himself. He couldn’t swim in these jeans. It was naked or nothing. And he couldn’t do naked.

Leo smiled and bumped his shoulder.

“Trade pants. These are fine.”

Raph blinked and shook his head.

“Then you’ll be in wet jeans…”

“Eh, it’ll dry.” He picked up a rolled towel from a rack nearby and held it up in front of Raph as a privacy barrier.

“C'mon, you go have fun for a minute.”

He groaned and relented, unzipping his jeans and pulling them off. Leo dropped the towel on his lap for privacy and quickly undid his wet sweatpants and passed them to him. Raph put them on, they were a little snug and too long but it was stretchier than the jeans. Leo put the jeans on and smiled.

“See? Easy. I’ll watch the stuff, you go swim.”

Raph eyed him nervously and unzipped his hoodie.

He wondered if Yokai had weird gender rules even without nipples.

He tried not to let it bother him, Leo was being nice and it would be a waste to make him do all that and then just chicken out.

He tossed the hoodie on the pile and decided to jump in.

He let himself float on his stomach for a while, feeling the refreshing water and the sun on his back. He probably looked like a corpse.

He felt someone jump on him and whipped around, seeing Mikey had decided to clamber on his back.

“Raph’s here!” He cheered and hugged him.

Raph laughed a little and shoved him off. “Careful, I’m not that strong a swimmer.”

He looked around. Leo waved at him from the lounge chair.

Someone splashed him and he turned, seeing Donnie holding on to the side of the pool.

Raph beamed. “Oh? We’re doing a splash off now?”

Donnie yelped and started swimming away.

Raph laughed and chased after him, Mikey was cheering from the center of the pool.

“You can escape Donnie! Kick those legs!”

Raph caught up and waved his arm at him, causing a big splash to hit him in the face.

“Nooooo!” He cried dramatically and pretended to sink.

Raph laughed and dove under water, grabbing him around his middle and standing up straight in the shallow end to carry him over his shoulder.

“I caught you!”

Donnie shrieked and laughed, pounding on the back of his shell. “Stoooop!”

“I’ll save you!” Mikey rammed into Raph who dramatically threw Donnie into the deep end.”

And then Donnie didn’t come back up for too long.

“Shit.” Raph dove down and saw him sinking, he grabbed his arm and swam up, dragging him back to the shallow end of the pool and stood holding him up.

He was sputtering and struggling to breathe.

Raph held him against his chest and climbed out of the pool with him and patted him on his back.

“Cough it up, you’re okay.” Raph tried. He was trying not to freak out and placed him on the ground to sit.

He was still wheezing

Someone touched his shoulder and he turned to see a sweet turtle face smiling sadly at him. “I can help.” She said as she pushed him out of the way and waved her hand in front of Donnie’s chest.

She was gaunt. Her arms and knees were wrapped in some kind of bandages, and she was wearing a strange one piece swimsuit on top that fit around her shell. The shell looked too big for her body, slightly off center.

She waved her two fingered hand from chest up to his nose, and a floating bubble of water came out of Donnie’s mouth and then dissipated on the ground.

Donnie stared at her in awe. “W-water bending?” He was panting and taking croaky breaths.

She laughed a little and smiled, confused.

“I don’t know what that means. Simple magic. Are you okay?”

Donnie was clapping himself on the plastron, trying to breathe without croaking. She rubbed his shoulder.

Raph looked between them. Their skin was the same deep blue green. She looked like she could be his older sister.

“I-I think I’m okay…” he glared up at Raph. “Why would you throw me in the deep end?!”

He kept staring at the woman.

She turned to look at him and gave him a sad smile. “His knees aren’t strong enough to keep himself afloat. Maybe with some practice.”

He kept staring at her. She was his height, and much thinner. But she had the same flat plastron and short tail.

“…how do you know that?” He asked.

She laughed sadly and looked down at her own limbs. “Experience.”

Raph looked down and realized that her feet weren’t actually on the ground. She was hovering 2 inches above it.

Donnie seemed to follow his gaze and his eyes went wide.

“Are.. you the ghost?” He asked quietly.

She turned to look down at him and rolled her eyes. “Do I look like a ghost? I’m quite corporeal.”

Donnie looked up at her frustratedly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

She tapped her chin in thought. “Do I?”

He groaned.

Raph put his hand on her arm gently.

“I.. I know you…” he said quietly.

She turned to look back at him with sad eyes.

“We’ve never met. I’m Venus.”

“I’ve… never met another female turtle…” he couldn’t help but say.

She tilted her head sadly. “No.. I guess you haven’t.”

“I-I’m sorry…” he said suddenly.

He didn’t know why he was sorry.

She laughed a little. “You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not bad to be female.” Then her eyes got sad. “But I guess that’s to be expected…”

Donnie shot up and stepped between them.

“How are you floating? Is that like something you were born with or can you learn? Does it help with weight distribution? Is that why you do it? If I could do that I bet it would help. Oh but then you wouldn’t be exercising your knees…”

She blinked and sighed playfully, placing a hand on her hip. “You are too inquisitive.”

Raph stared between them. They had the same snout. The same smug look on their faces.

“Venus…” he said softly.

She turned to look at him. She saw something in his eye and winced, looking away.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay, kid. Don’t go swimming where you can’t stand up, and keep a brother with you at all times in the water!” She saluted and seemed to float away.

Raph wanted to chase her but he just… let her go.

Donnie groaned and looked at him funny. “She could have taught me magic! Bones don’t hurt magic!”

Raph looked down at him sadly, he knew there were tears in his eyes and Donnie’s expression confirmed it.

“Raph what’s wrong..?”

“Sh-she looked just like you…”

He scoffed and folded his arms. “Hardly. She was thin and agile.”

He shook his head and reached out to touch Donnie’s snout. “She had your snout.. your skin.”

Donnie was looking more nervous as Raph looked at him. He pushed Raph’s hand off him. “She can’t have been my mother. Shredder would have seen her as useless damaged goods. Maybe there’s just.. turtle yokai out there who come in such variety that she somewhat looked like me.”

Raph rubbed his arm. He was right, if she was chronically in pain like Donnie, and small and female like Raph… she would have been dead to their father.

“You’re not sure though…” Raph said. Donnie was making a face.

He sighed. “Hereditary illnesses are a thing, I suppose. But I don’t think she was old enough… unless she was… you know, younger than us when it happened.”

“Which Shredder would never have done, obviously..” Raph rolled his eyes and hugged his arms, turning away.

“Sorry…” Donnie mumbled.

He sighed and looked over. “I’m sorry I threw you in the deep end, I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking ‘don’t let him crack his head’ more than I was thinking ‘he needs to hold on to the edge to stay up’.”

Donnie shrugged and leaned against him. “I get it. We’re not used to pools and stuff. Thanks for jumping in after me.”

Raph smiled and rubbed his back. “I mean it would be shitty of me to let you drown don’t you think?”

Donnie grunted and nodded. “Extremely shitty cuz it would have been your fault yeah. Still. Thank you.”

“Are you as done with pool time as I am?”

“Yeeees..” He whined. “Need to recharge.”

Raph laughed and nodded, giving his head a kiss. “Okay.”

They wandered back over to Leo and towelled themselves off, Leo stared up at them questioningly. “How did the recon go? I hope that was what the FAKE drowning was?”

Donnie rolled his eyes as he was letting Raph rub his back dry so he could put his hoodie back on.

“Unfortunately that was a real almost drowning. I am fine, thank you for asking.”

Leo winced and stood up. “Shit, sorry. Are you okay?”

“Fine. She literally water bended the pool water out of my throat. And she was FLOATING! Did you see that?” He couldn’t contain his excitement.

Raph pat his shoulder and decided he should collect Mikey while Donnie got him up to speed.

He turned to the pool and didn’t see him.

Mama turtle went in overdrive.

“Mikey?” He called out, darting between people in the crowd.

The more he looked the more worried he got.

‘Idiot, you almost kill ONE brother and LOSE the other?’

He groaned and smacked his head. “Shut up Slash.”

That was new but he couldn’t blame him.

He did a lap around the pool and saw the backside of a turtle behind the bar to the side. He rushed over and realized this turtle was bigger than him.

“Jennika.” He breathed.

She turned in surprise and he could see Mikey behind her, smiling up at him.

“Oh, hi Raph!”

He whimpered and rushed forward, ignoring her to grab him around his shoulders.

“Where did you go! I was worried!”

He grabbed his arms and pushed him back.

“I’m fine! I made a friend, see?” He held his hand out to Jennika, who was standing awkwardly beside them. She was wearing a big white t shirt and baggy trunks.

“Sorry, you… guys were distracted and I wanted to make sure he was safe somewhere…” she barely looked at him.

That hurt for some reason.

“Thanks…” he stood back up, keeping his hand on Mikey’s shoulder to make sure he knew where he was. “I.. sorry, I shouldn’t.. assume things but. You’re… not female like me, are you..?”

She blinked and shook her head. “Uh… no. I used to be… sad. About that.”

A new emotion came over him and he gave her a look of awe.

“Are you… trans..?”

She gave him a surprised look. “Is that… okay?”

Raph could feel his eyes water but he smiled big. “I… I’ve never met a.. I mean, you’re a turtle like me, and you’re.. trans too! A-and that.. makes me happy, I-I don’t know.. sorry, I’m not… not trying to be weird.”

She smiled and shook her head, her eyes were wet too.

“No, it’s not weird, I really get it…” she rubbed her arm. “I didn’t know uh…” she coughed and shook her head. “No, I guess I’d always hoped you were. I didn’t understand myself.”

Raph was confused by her words but kept smiling at her.

“You’re beautiful.” He told her. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tell her that. It was overwhelming seeing someone like him out in the world.

She stared at him with a shocked smile. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“O-oh…” she sniffed and then laughed, rubbing her eyes. “F-fuck, can I hug you? Th-this is a lot but..”

Raph reached in instantly to wrap his arms around her. He just wanted to make her feel as happy as he felt seeing her. She was taller than him and thicker up top, but she was just a beautiful turtle girl to him.

She seemed to be crying above him as she held him back.

Mikey wandered over and smiled up at her. “See, she’s a friend Raph!”

The two of them parted and Jennika got down on her knee to idly punch his shoulder.

“You’re a good judge of character, but you still shouldn’t run off with people. Not here. There’s bad guys here. Only trust turtles, got that little man?”

He made a determined face and nodded. “Got it.”

Jennika then leaned in to hug Mikey. It looked like a bone crushing hug. Mikey just took it and tried to hug her back just as strongly.

Raph looked between them. They looked.. so similar. She looked like if Mikey had been well loved as a child and grown up strong.

The idea was making him cry again.

“Jennika!” They heard a voice call out.

Raph looked over and saw Kirby again. He was standing by the elevator and waving her over, he looked frustrated to see Raph again, and maybe a little sad.

Jennika looked up and wiped her eyes. “Shit. That’s my brother, he’s gonna give me a talking to…” She muttered slightly annoyed.

Raphs eyes snapped up at her. “Kirby’s your brother?”

She winced and rubbed her neck. “Uh, it’s been nice talking!”

She shuffled away.

Raph was shaking suddenly.

“W-wait!” He started to run but they both looked at him inside the elevator with a sorrowful look and then disappeared.

And he dropped to his knees.

Mikey put his hands on his shoulders. “Raph? What’s wrong? Is it the voices again?”

But his head was silent, save for a ringing in his ears. He stared at the elevator blankly. It opened again and they weren’t there anymore.

He wasn’t sure how long he was staring, he knew Donnie and Leo had wandered up holding all of their stuff, and it took the three of them to lift him off the ground.

“What happened, Raph?” Leo asked gently as they walked his body towards the elevator.

He just stared inside. He hoped to god they’d just reappear and let him ask the burning question on his mind.

He couldn’t say this out loud until he knew.

The elevator door closed and it was just him and his brothers again.

‘You’re right.’

He whipped his head around to look, but realized the voice was Slash again.

“W-what do you mean I’m right?!”

His brothers looked at him funny but he paid them no mind.

‘You know who they are. And you’re right. Big Mama told me the first time you let me out, she wasn’t gonna crush the eggs. She said we’d never see them again. She lied.’

“B-but that makes no sense Slash! Th-they’re too old! I-it’s been a week!”

‘I don’t know. But you know that’s who they are.’

Raph slammed his head against the wall and shook it hard.

“N-no!”

Leo grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Raph. Talk to me. What happened?”

Raph looked around the elevator in a panic. Mikey and Donnie looked scared of him, scared of what was happening.

“I-I… not here… I-in the room..”

He didn’t want anyone's secret eyes on him right now. He couldn’t trust Big Mama. Leo was right. Why had they bothered to talk to her at all today? They were better off on their own!

The door opened on their floor and they quickly rushed back inside their freshly cleaned room. Raph checked every room, every cranny. The windows were closed and no one was hiding in the corners.

After his panicked rushing he sat on the freshly cleaned sofa and tried to calm his breathing.

His brothers all stood in front of him in the conversation pit. None of them wanted him out of sight.

“Raph.” Leo said sternly. He looked up and saw them all staring at him with worried eyes.

He looked between them. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It won’t make sense. But nothing here does. There’s.. magic and portals and dimensional travel…”

“At this point no theory is too out there.” Donnie said.

He opened his eyes and looked at them all seriously.

“They’re our kids.”

[tonydaddingham]

what does aziraphale know?

i wanted to have another look through the pre-fall scene because there was something that wasn't feeling Quite Right to me about it, and honestly the below is just a stream of consciousness rather than any coherent theory, analysis or otherwise - so read at your own peril.

so the school of thought for many reasons has been that the Angel Who Crowley Was (AWCW) was a powerful angel, and i don't think that can be argued sufficiently given what we have seen so far from s1 and s2. but after rewatching the pre-fall scene i do wonder if crowley's importance in the Grand Scheme of Things has been overestimated, possibly by noone more than AWCW/crowley himself, and if aziraphale was actually the one with status, however quiet and modest.

when we open with the pre-fall scene, we see crowley alone, and he calls at a passing angel for some help with the map/plan. now this angel seems to rocketing past at the literal speed of light, and i cant help but feel that they were actually intending on going somewhere. and at the below specific angle, that angel looks like they were heading in a downward trajectory.

given that AWCW points up when referencing "Upstairs", we can infer that whilst heaven may not be bound by concepts like upstairs or downstairs, it does seem to have a concept of a higher placement for a higher being (ie god). this is also going on the assumption that in this scene, AWCW and the angel are even in heaven-space (which arguably, they're not), but regardless the angel seems to be heading down, indicating that they've just come down from the Up.

in any case, when aziraphale arrives, has helped AWCW with the cranking, he then says, "was that it?". and the way he says it, his body language, indicates to me that he is being polite, but in a perfunctory way. to me, it almost feels like he has things he needs to get on with - not in any frustrated or impatient manner, but just simply, 'is there anything else you need from me?', because he has things To Do.

(gif quality does not display this lmao but it's the impression i got anyway)

but AWCW puts out there that that was just the starting the ignition, and gleefully says that the next bit is where the true magic happens. which, i think is obvious, is where aziraphale actually reacts in any of the same manner - he begins to really smile, and offers up his name, even going so far as to say hi for the first time in the conversation. and i do think this is because he's just gotten a slam dunk of 'oh shit this angel is cute', but that's almost immaterial.

the part of the dialogue that struck me however is that AWCW says, "ive been waiting for this since... well, always!". it's not particularly revelatory, but to me basically says that AWCW has literally been working on this since he was formed from the firmament, having concept and design meetings with god, but this has been his entire "life"'s work, and he has never known anything else. he could just be being hyperbolic and i could be reading into it, but it would make sense for this starmaker to have only ever been a starmaker.

and heaven is certainly portrayed as being the most desolate place ever conceived, whether its in the dreaded High Rise Penthouse office building or in this vast, empty, dark space (presuming of course that the latter is in fact part of heaven, which it may well not be - and instead be in the space between planes before the universe was actually created)

regardless it gives the distinct impression of being very Lonely. so can we surmise from this that AWCW is not only a starmaker, but The Starmaker? working entirely in a team of one (thinking about the ep6 line of a "team... of the two of us") to create this nebula, possibly even most of the universe? crowley is described as being the only demon with an imagination, and his weapon of choice is literally the same instrument with which he cranked up this nebula... was his imagination in heaven also that revered and that's why he was entrusted with this project? and other similar ones? possibly.

but that spells for loneliness - single genius can be lonely. so it stands to reason that AWCW would be eager to have someone around to get dizzy with him about the wonder that is this new nebula and appreciate him for his creation. but it's not out of it being aziraphale being the one to appreciate it - we can surmise that in the way AWCW brushes him off. is this a case of self-importance? feeling he has status and should be recognised for this achievement? i feel like this is potentially a likely scenario.

in any case, AWCW seems pretty set on creating not only for himself, which he evidently finds fun and self-rewarding - going so far as to preen at the heartfelt but small praise that aziraphale gives him, but because its part of gods plan, and he's doing it for her.

he's even given perhaps one of the most famous lines from the bible, "let there be light". do we even trust that in GO it was god that originally said it - was it in fact AWCW? well either way, he completely believes in her vision, as far as he understands her vision to be.

so imagine how it must have felt then, in this instance, to have this stranger angel tell him that hes fairly certain that god is planning to destroy it in the next few millennia. AWCW, who is entrusted with creating parts if not all of her universe, isn't even clued in on the full facts, but aziraphale seems to be.

aziraphale is even seemingly part of the team (or is the whole team?) that seems to be entrusted with the plan of god's ultimate creation - earth and people built in her own image... but in kind doesn't seem to quite understand the true purpose of the nebula AWCW has built, at least according to him.

do we take this as an indication that god doesn't readily share her plans between angels, or that the nebula doesn't actually have as much importance as AWCW believed it to have? in any case, aziraphale seems to have been entrusted with god's plan, and AWCW - a creator whose creation the plan directly threatens - isn't.

aziraphale then goes on to describe the people they are currently designing; if we went with the notion (ie not sure how true this is in GO!verse) that humanity is god's ultimate creation, aziraphale has been trusted to help with that. i can't imagine just any angel would be, so there must be something in aziraphale that god sees as being fundamental in helping her with building them. from what we know of aziraphale's characteristics even this early on in his arc, he seems to be a kind and selfless person, and these may be the qualities that in building humanity god considers instrumental.

when we further consider that aziraphale then ends up being guardian of the eastern gate, and seems to have gone unpunished in giving away his sword (spelling its own implications for humanity as concerns war, cruelty, and death) and lying to her about it, this really does indicate to me that aziraphale is literally one of - if not the - favourite. given his qualities that it seems the other angels seem to lack (yes, even AWCW to a certain extent), it might just be that aziraphale was god's perfect angel. that would make sense.

the other thing that struck me is that aziraphale warns crowley against questioning god. the fall hasn't happened yet, so what gives aziraphale the foreboding sense of doom if crowley were to directly question her and her motives? "if i was the one running it all, id like it if..." strikes me as being the foreshadowing that it's this exact phraseology that AWCW puts before god and spells for disaster; that crowley intimates that if he were in charge, he would do things better. which is eerie when you again take into consideration the bookend that is aziraphale, "if im in charge, i could make a difference".

i would take the context of this being set pre-fall to indicate that there isn't any concept of actual punishment in heaven just yet (other than what a supervisory angel might order another angel to do, or a general reprimand). so what exactly is aziraphale afraid of? why is he scared for AWCW? doesn't he trust god to be understanding and kind if AWCW were to ask questions? what is it that aziraphale knows that AWCW doesn't?

so this is where i come to wondering if crowley was indeed prince of hell (okay yeah, fuck it, this is now a theory). what if it was actually aziraphale? god's perfect angel, entrusted with creating and guarding her ultimate creation? would it really be implausible that aziraphale went back to god and mused on what AWCW had said to him?

that it would perhaps be beneficial to have further input on how things were being created, especially when all the hard work, the creativity and genius, that was going into making her plans a reality, was just going to be wiped out in a snap? AWCW had 'friends' that fanned the flames of questioning god, doubled down on his resolve, and aziraphale tried to forestall the punishment that would inevitably come for him... but in doing so was punished himself?

but because aziraphale is her Favourite, instead of making him fall, she wiped his memory of it? he evidently remembers crowley as an angel, but beyond that? especially his remark that he's never killed anything (when, even if indirectly, aziraphale actually has? s1 with the french guard and the airfield soldier (perhaps not taking book canon into account here re: soldier) and the demons in s2) - does aziraphale not remember being a soldier? had a hard factory reset and is back to the unblemished, untainted angel he was before?

what if crowley did indeed bargain for aziraphale to be spared? that it was his fault that god was going to make him fall, it was his questions not aziraphale's? i think narratively it could make sense in the way that aziraphale and crowley are put as two halves of the same whole; that crowley did a selfless thing and was damned for it, whereas aziraphale wanted something selfish for crowley but was spared from the consequences. it would also go some way to explaining why crowley always has to protect aziraphale - its literally been his way since the beginning, in recompense for what happened to aziraphale?

i realise that this is completely batshit, but i do like the idea (im a huge fan of a bait and switch), and poetically speaking i think it could work - that instead of crowley being the original fallen angel, it was actually aziraphale? borne out of kindness and fondness for his new friend, the friend that actively seemed to welcome his company and wanted to show him the stars, and wanting to make heaven and the world a better place?✨

[seeminglydark]

1. would caro and john be into the tv show, the x-files? would they buy tapes of the episodes and talk about their own conspiracies and guess about the outcomes of the episodes.

2. also your comic has help peak my interest for the supernatural and conspiracy theories. what are some stories or theories that you’ve learned about that you have found the most interesting? and were you a believer before starting your comics or has your interest grown as you’ve continued with your comics.

3.lastly, i’m trying to buy more secondhand items and become the diy punk that i’ve aspired to be since high school (too afraid since i was a closeted trans man and living with an unaccepting family), any tips?

i, like john, try to stay away from modern tech as much as i can. i’m able to stay off my phone for the most part and rarely use my computer but i’ve been looking around and audiobooks on cassette are kinda expensive around me so i like to narrate book as i read them in paperback. i was wondering if canonically john uses resources such as the library and what his favorite books and movies are. i love horror and am just now getting into sci-fi and i love watching movies on my vcr + tv combo and i sometimes use a blu-ray player for more rare or expensive (at least in vhs format) movies.

sorry for the long winded paragraph, i’m unfortunately unable to escape my strict household (despite being an adult) until i find a job and am able to save every cent. i also tend to isolate myself so i have no friends to help me out. sorry to vent to you about this but i just wanted to end this by saying your comic and characters inspire me and give me hope that i’ll be okay once i’m free.

YES. John is obsessed with x-files. every once in a while you can see he has the iconic 'i want to believe' poster in his younger years on his walls. He still has it as an adult. both caro and john like watching those together, they also enjoy the twilight zone, charmed, Buffy (they they agree the corny movie from '92 is the best) and those old Bruce Campbell shows noones heard of, re: Brisco County Jr. I think as kids they theorize, and as adults they talk about everything everyone gets wrong, now that they know how these things really work. John can always guess WhoDunnit.

Ive always been interested in the idea of the supernatural. im a big skeptic though, ill be honest there, even though ive had many 'experiences' myself. i kinda like the idea of the unbelievable. definitely making the comics has peaked my interest in things i wasn't too keenly aware of before, like cryptids. im fascinated by the concept of Missing 411, and missing people who reappear somewhere else, but Liminal Spaces hold my heart specifically. ive always been keenly aware of the off feeling in those places before i even knew what that meant. i love scouring the internet for images of things like abandoned hotels that give me a weird kind of uneasy, most of the things people tag as Liminal aren't really that, so its a scavenger hunt to find something that fits my idea of it. coming up with the lore of my stories has been an adventure. my interest has definitely grown, more in places and phenomenon than in ghosts specifically.

there are so mnay things you can do to diy punk stuff, in my opinion thats the best and most rewarding way. it sounds to me that you need to start small and slow for your safety, so let me reassure you right here anon, that punk is a set of ideals, and not just fashion. youre still punk no matter what youre wearing. a jacket or vest is always a good place to start, you can literally buy ANYTHING at the thift store that strikes your fancy. this is a canvas you will be adding too for as long as its yours. once you have your canvas, its time to create, and there is literally no wrong way to do this. you can use paint markers, embroidery, bleach, ect. dont have money for spikes and studs? you can use soda can tabs and bend them, metal lighter caps, hell even staples and safety pins always look cool. you can make your own badges by bending metal soda or beer caps around a soda tab with a safety pin through it and then paint whatever you want on the cap. dental floss is what you usually see when punks have the white stitching on their pants and jackets, its durable and doesn't break, since crust and gutter punks need tough clothes that last. if you're worried about your family, i would personalize it first in small secret ways that are just for you, such as a message beneath your collar as seen here on my friends jacket. and here, and here! he hides patches on the inside as well! Im including a pic of john hiding a patch on caros varsity jacket as well. i will post my jackets one day, my camera is broken but i figured id share his since he hides things more than i do!

John absolutely uses the library, its a fantastic resource for SO many things, depending on where you're located. He would also probably use a digital reader later, because many of them you can get library cards on and borrow books that way. he is not a strong reader so he mostly reads books that may be under his age level, like goosebumps, but who cares, do what you enjoy. movie wise hes very obsessed with cosmic horror (hence the UFO tattoo) his favorites are Alien, The Thing, Killer Klowns from Outer Space and the Blob from the 80s. both he and Caro love the original Evil Dead franchise, horror comedy like American Werewolf in London, lost boys, etc.

Thank you, Anon, for the long winded paragraph. You asked some really fun questions for me to answer, i love nothing more than to talk about my characters, it was a really nice little break from editing a new podcast episode. I am so so sorry about your situation, and i am sending you all the best and all the love and strength that you can come out of this free and on the other side and live as yourself. If my comics and characters stories can provide a tiny bit of hope that its going to be ok, than ive succeeded at what i set out to do. wishing you all the best. and look into your library, they may have resources to help you with this as well.

[fconvicted]

you NEED to tell me more about your au

(you don’t have to but i’m curious)

yeah! i'd love to share (im assuming this is about Airlock AU but you can always message me back if its in regard to a different au)- im hoping in january time i'll have more formal pieces to show case and a proper summary of what's going on.

i wanna start off by saying that the illustrations ive been posting are really just luring everyone into a false sense of security 'cause the actual plot of "Airlock" is kindda wild. before continuing, id HIGHLY suggest reading my "Eye of the Storm" PDF (at least the "Story So Far" pages), Airlock is in continuation of that specific arc.

ANYWAYS

what is Airlock?

it's approximately 5-6 years after the events of canon Overwatch 2. two major things have happened in Siebren's life at this point:

Siebren was put on trial for his association with Talon but got acquitted. The UN still didn't trust Siebren to walk as a free man with the powers he possessed. They offered him the options of being monitored by Overwatch when using his powers or don't use his powers at all. He agreed to no longer use his powers (to an extent)

Oscar de Kuiper was born; he was the genetically augmented child of Siebren and Kaori, hosting the same abilities as his father. For many reasons, including his birth, Siebren and Kaori decided to live in a small town close to Numbani that shared very similar ideology as the city.

With restricted abilities and a family to look after, Siebren did his best to continue living quietly. He purchased an observatory that was damaged back during the Omnic Crisis. He hired a brilliant young engineer by the name of Obiora to tend to the telescope and help up keep the observatory.

The political climate of the world at this time was very strained. Ramattra and his forces have been defeated, but it seemed like God AI's were stirring. There's no direct evidence of them completely waking up, but one thing was for certain: the Earth was running out of its natural resources at a fast rate. Pollution was rising high and the climate was fluctuating badly. People were speculating Omniums were being created in isolated areas, whether it was underground or under seas. Because of these lacking resources, Omnics and those with cybernetic augmentations were finding it both harder and more expensive to get their hands on new parts or resources to fix their bodies. Humans were often prioritized for repairs and Omnics were more or less ignored.

That was until Siebren discovered that Obiora had been working on a concept for a machine that would mine asteroids.

And so "Airlock" begins.

There was a little more to it: staff was hired and a decommissioned Omium restored to operate as their Earth base. Illari and Sloan were the first to be hired to fly out into the asteroid belt with Siebren, "corral" an asteroid, break it down into shipable pieces and begin the process of making the "Asteroid Farming Machine".

But what about Juno?

Overwatch had been kind enough to send supplies that would sustain the people on Mars. It was easier to ship things one way. Some plans were set up to get the Red Promise team back but it was a long process. It's through Efi that Juno found out a team was planning to set course for the asteroid belt. If they had a ship intended to go back and forth, then surely her family could hitch a ride back to Earth!

And so the Orbital Team was made! Siebren as the leader, Illari second in command, Sloan as lead mining expert and Juno as medic!

But little did the team know, someone else had a very similar plan set in the asteroid belt a little over 25 years ago.

Or more...

Something else.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie, rockstar, who goes on tours and gets raunchy letters from his fans. it also happens to make his wife jealous. she decides she's gonna show him how much better she is than some stupid explicit fan mail 🤷 or something i know that's specific

omg I love this!!! And who doesn’t love rockstar Eddie 😍

I got a little excited with this one so I wrote a fic about it :p

I was thinking about doing something smutty but tb him a little burnt out with smut since its all ive focused on writing for the last couple of months and it's been pretty difficult to work on since I’m constantly around people

But I hope you enjoy this!

No Exceptions

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines, @esme-viridian, @munsonology

Word Count- 1.5k

You glanced over at Eddie laid on his bed in the back of the tour bus as you heard him try to hide a little giggle. He and the other guys were in their separate quarters, opening and reading all the fanmail they had been sent over the last few weeks. 

Being a rockstar was a lot different than they had imagined it would be.

They thought it would be nothing but parties, girls, drinking and getting high whenever they pleased while just being able to hang out and jam for work. Instead it was full of long days of music writing and practicing, long drives to new venues, and barely any time for girls and weed. But Eddie didn’t need any other girl by his side while he had you. 

You always trusted him while they were out on the road, he wasn’t the type to cheat or lie to you, but usually the gigs they had were only a state away. A few hour drive maximum. This was the first time they were supposed to have a show nearly halfway across the country. And Eddie insisted you go along with them.

He was so happy that he was finally living his dream of being a rockstar, and with all the support you always gave him he wouldn’t dare want to experience this without you. The guys had no protests to him bringing you along, they loved having you around and always treated you with kindness and respect. Not to mention you could help find them the perfect girls while they’re out on tour. 

But over the last few hours the only stops they’ve made were at truck stops, gas stations, and fast food joints. Now they were just doing their own thing after getting a little bit of cabin fever and starting to get sick of constantly being around one another. They knew that was inevitable, especially being stuck on a cramped bus for hours on end, but for now they were all occupied with reading the dozens of letters they had gotten from their fans. 

They were excited to read them all and see all the wonderful things their fans had to say about them, not to mention how excited Gareth, Jeff and Grant got when they saw how many girls were DYING to see them and detailing all of the things they’d love to do if they ever got the chance. Eddie on the other hand always laughed at the letters he got that said things like that. 

Though Corroded Coffin was still a newer up and coming band, they had their own little group of fans that knew all about you and Eddie. 

You were that little groups power couple and they adored it whenever they saw you at a show, cheering on your man from right up front on the stage or watching him with loving eyes from backstage. Unfortunately, like all fanbases, there were a few girls who thought they would be able to steal Eddie away from you. Those were always his favorites. And lucky for you, he was giggling at the latest one he had just opened.

“What’re you giggling at?” You asked him with a smile before taking the letter from his hands and reading it to yourself, not being able to control the giggles in between nearly every word,

“’If I had the chance to spend just one night with you, I’d show you how insignificant that little groupie is and let you see what a real woman can do’?” You nearly burst out laughing just from reading it. 

“Wait, you didn’t even read the best part, look down at the bottom.” Eddie said in a fit of giggles as you laid next to him on his bed. 

You glanced down at the end of the letter and you could feel the tears start to prick the corners of your eyes,

“’From your most devoted fan, Sandra Murphy. P.S. I may be 44 but I promise I have the stamina of a 20-year-old.’” 

The two of you were laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.

“I think she might have a better shot at Wayne than with me…” Eddie said as he tried his best to calm himself.

Those were always your favorite types of letters.

It had nothing to do with their age, how many shows they’ve been to, or how many times they’ve met the boys after a show, there was always that one handful of people who thought that no matter what they would be the one exception Eddie would make during your marriage They somehow assumed that he wanted anyone other than you. And that meant one of two things:

Eddie would ignore the letter and keep it in his collection of favorites, pulling it out whenever he needed a good laugh, or,

He would let you write back to them if they started to get threatening and always made sure to include a polaroid of the two of you.

He had his own little collections of all those letters.

He always kept all the letters from the fans that told him how much they looked up to him and all the little kids that would write to him and say how they wished they could be a rockstar just like him when they grew up. Letters from parents saying that his music was corrupting their children and turning them into satanic savages. Letters from crazed fans who were absolutely obsessed with him (those ones were usually put into a shredder). And of course, his favorites, the letters written to him by all the girls that thought with enough convincing they could get Eddie to leave you for them.

This one was definitely getting saved.

You slowly were able to calm yourselves down, a sharp turn made by the bus that almost knocked you both off the mattress was a big help for stopping the giggles, but you just couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know Eds, she sounds pretty convincing.” You said to him as you handed him back the letter, 

“Think you’re gonna take her up on her offer? I mean, I don’t want to step in between you and your ‘most devoted fan’.”

Eddie finished his giggles and tossed the letter away onto the floor as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close to him, the both of you secured on the bed to keep you from nearly tumbling off again,

“Oh please, its not the first letter I’ve gotten like that and it definitely won’t be the last,” He held you close to him, arms draped around your waist as your arms went around his neck, his lips sweetly kissing you as your bodies shook from another bump in the road, “and like I said, she seems more like Waynes type than mine…” 

You giggled once more and kissed him back, your hand moving up to gently hold the back of his head, your fingers carefully tangling into his soft curls,

“Maybe you should do him a favor and let him be the one to write back to her. You never know, they might really hit it off.”

Eddie smiled,

“You know, you’re right. I might have to give him a call at the next stop.”

“You’re gonna call him at the next stop no matter what!” You lightly slapped his chest, “You said you would call him at the last stop to check in and you never did! That was almost three hours ago Eds.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll call him when we get to the next stop.” Eddie raised his hand up, “Scouts honor.”

“Sweetie, you were never a scout, you can’t keep saying that.” You said with another giggle at your lips.

“Hey, if no one knows, it doesn’t hurt anything.”

You smiled with one another as you lay in bed, holding each other close in your arms as the gentle rocking of the bus was starting to lull you both off to sleep. It had already been such a long drive, and you knew you had a long while to go until you reached your destination. A nap couldn’t hurt anything. Eddie could always wait a little longer to call Wayne, he knew he’d be alright. 

For now, all he wanted to do was enjoy the scene unfolding around him.

Laying in bed with the woman he loved, on a tour bus with his best friends on their way to a new gig at a new venue in a new place. He was finally living out his dream and though he knew there was always a price to pay when it came to fame and fortune, specifically having to give up the freedom of his personal life, but as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with you it didn't matter.

All those fangirls would get from him is seeing how much he loved and adored you.

And being able to show you off to everyone he could was his favorite part of his new rockstar life.

[the-a-j-universe]

Oh, speaking of the variable geometry warp, wich was designed to stop the whole "high warp is fucking up spacetime" thing, voyager has to do a section of the trip on sublight and its apparently faster to go across their territory at max impulse (wich I believe is 0.9c) instead of around it at... however fast warp 9.975 is. But the reason they have to do it on impulse is because the the people who control that territory are aware of warp damage so they refuse to use it but the intrepid was spicificaly designed to minimize that and they don't even bring it up. God. I love Voyager it was my fist proper show I watched all the way through but is has some really big errors. Ive said it before, Voyager has some of the best Star Trek ever put to screen bit it also has objectively the worst, well other than that one enterprise episode with the 3rd gender species.

Eh, It can't have been designed for that specifically, because the Intrepid was already in service when that problem was brought to Starfleet's attention (I think the Intrepid was actually literally mentioned in that same episode, by Geordi), but I get what you're saying. So much missed continuity in that show, in spite of all it does well.

If you'll allow me an aside, though, I can explain what I think the variable geometry engines were actually built for.

We know from how warp speed is described, in-series and in supplementary material, that a bubble is created around the ship at warp, literally warping space by dipping partially into another dimensional layer, while continuing to intersect with normal space. The design, exterior and interior, as well as the placement of a ship's nacelles is chosen to ensure that that bubble can be shaped to encompass the entire vessel.

Ships like that Galaxy, for example, don't do this particularly efficiently. Their warp bubbles are tall and, compared to ships like the Intrepid, or even, like, the Excelsior, wide and blunt in the front. They move as fast as they do by just applying more power to the problem and shoving space out of the way, so the "wake" they create when moving is violent and, as we learn in TNG, damaging.

Even before Starfleet knew of the damage, though, there would have been reason to want to change this. The Galaxy was the biggest ship that Starfleer had ever built, so it would've been their best example of the diminishing returns of just building ships to be more powerful without any specific consideration for how their warp fields would be shaped. Building ships designed to make use of flatter, more streamlined warp bubbles would save energy, in an era where reactors were already just so potent, freeing up that huge quantity of extra power for other things, even while at high speed.

That's why we see Starfleet ships start to have lower profiles and longer, narrower shapes in the Dominion War era, not just because this shifts the center of mass of a starship, even a large one, to allow for easier maneuvering, but because it turns the ship from a boulder into a bullet, allowing for more efficient travel at warp, displacing space as little as possible, and even preventing that damage.

And what modern ship class do we see that lower, longer shape on first? The Intrepid-class. Which makes perfect sense with what else we see on that class: Galaxy-style tech, but advanced beyond the original Galaxy project stage, a new, supposedly more efficient means of computer processing, and nacelles built with a new way to shape a warp bubble by moving. It was a ship that was built to take what was learned from the Galaxy-class and make it more efficient. So, even before the issue of warp speed damaging space was known, it still makes sense for ships of the Intrepid-class to be perfect for minimizing that damage, entirely by accident.

Of course, this is even more reason why this function of the ship should have been mentioned, but that's just par for the course.

[weirdmageddon]

can someone explain what “weed paranoia” is?

ive never experienced it, all i experience is like….relaxation, monotropic autism flow state, calms me down enough to not get overstimulated by my own thoughts (i feel more at ease with my thoughts coming and going, i kinda go into free flow thought tunnels without getting hung up or ever spiraling. in fact, the opposite, where it’s like a “catch and release” sort of experience to train of thought most of the time. i mean i’ll still definitely hyperfocusing on something which you could consider getting “hung up” on but thats just normal autism stuff and i feel like i can mine for more deeper insight riches in those hyperfixation tunnels when high.

it also definitely helps me unmask. like my mask is sort of built into my core personality and “self” but i find it hard if not impossible to shut off even when im alone because ive internalized the external social sphere. but THC (i should note im taking Δ9) like…. takes the edge off, and i feel less conflicted about my thoughts? like i’m more confident in getting my thoughts out there without worrying about people judging me for how i phrase things or how hyperspecific im being to my own interests. i feel like i dont have to water things down as much because i dont feel as threatened by judgment externally, and in turn internally

i looked up my question about what “weed paranoia” feels like on reddit and the common answers ive seen were:

generalized anxiety

“everyone knows” / you feel like people are watching or judging you and that youre gonna be in trouble

“You’re very aware of your own actions and existence, and assume everyone else is also.”

heightened self-reflection (for some people this freaks them out??) because different perspective

more vulnerable

but i’m not satisfied with these answers??

i want to know if people who get paranoid have these traits while sober/before getting high. like, is it just non-introspective people getting freaked out because they’re considering their own actions/thoughts and existence? or do introspective people who are used to metacognition also getting freaked out?

are people afraid of confronting their weaknesses that weed makes them aware of? are people who normally hide from truths more likely to get paranoid?

ok so i can only fully know my own mind; that is my reality. i have a habit of assuming people more or less share the same phenomenological experiences in their minds, but since i’m autistic i’ve had to expand this boundary over and over continually reconciling with way more diverging phenomenological experiences than i thought.

so i normally i have thoughts about my own thoughts pretty much at least five times every hour, every single day of the week. i do not experience is not a bad thing, it’s a neutral and even good thing. i think i am insightful by nature and always have been, ive been described as such. i don’t know how normal this is for the average person. weed does enhance these metacognitive thoughts i have to an even higher level, and i feel very, very pulled towards them in a good, flow state way. ive also been told my guarded chilly heart melts a bit and i become more open/vulnerable while stoned but that’s because i don’t feel as vulnerable as i normally do. so i dont hide or clam up as much away from psychological openness or whatever exact shit enneagram type 5 is on

but anyway even without weed i normally feel “outside” of my own thoughts, always judging them from a third person perspective, or even multiple third person perspectives through reframing. so i dont feel like i have a defined or clearly illuminated sense of self. i’m not trying to really “find myself” so much as uncover it. like, it’s definitely there to begin with i can feel its presence, but the specifics are obscured and i’m trying to bring them to light. i automatically isolate logical components from emotional components into their own boxes and rarely acknowledge the emotional box because it’s unhelpful in more circumstances than not so it’s all a pretty clinical process when i make sense of things

because i can do this i’m never afraid of the truth; in fact i actively go in search of it and honestly it feels like THC helps me achieve that on MYSELF and it makes me very satisfied

i also don’t know if what i said is normal. am i comfortable with truths and facing them to an unusual degree over most people, or about the same as them?

i saw this comment and it’s like….. that makes sense with disinhibition of the frontal cortex. i think way too much about the rhetoric and kairos of how im communicating information to others normally, but with these consciously overthinking circuits driving and modifying my social thoughts and behaviors being turned down while stoned, i find i dont care as much. it’s like my conscious autism masking is peeled away, so i feel more content while stoned. and it also makes me more open as a result.

like i said, “i feel more at ease with my thoughts coming and going, i kinda go into free flow thought tunnels without getting hung up or ever spiraling” which is how this guy is describing “going with the flow”

the takeaway is i dont have a negative reaction to when i realize unpleasant things about myself while high. it’s just this neutral acknowledgement. this even goes for physical things that usually tip people off like their heart rate being “too fast” while high. i do perceive it also but theres like no anxiety with it, again just neutral observation and acknowledgement

basically im Actively looking for this

so some questions:

can someone explain what “weed paranoia” is like, taking into account the gist of what ive said? if you experience it do you have any insight into why it happens? does anything ive said have to do with it? do you already have neurotic tendencies (low resistance to stress)?

what does my experience while high + my normal thought processes as ive described them say or imply about me?

why am i experiencing pretty much the polar opposite of the way weed paranoid people are describing anxiety of being judged? or like the thing about my feelings of vulnerability?

am i more comfortable with truths and facing them to an unusual degree than most people, or am i actually about the same as them? am i more introspective/metacognitive than most people, or am i actually about the same as them?

if people who ARE already introspective get high and feel paranoid, why would that happen—wouldnt they be used to uncovering things about themselves? are there other reasons? does one’s sentiment to oneself play into it? neurotic traits?

oomf said “your high is always driven by how capable you are of passively defusing triggers for a bad trip”. the explanation for how well people tolerate THC ive gravitated towards outside of genetics (since my mom doesnt tolerate thc well but i do) is ability to deflect stressful thoughts, or how impacted you are by stressful thoughts in the first place. is this anything?

i hope im describing these things adequately so i can get the answers im looking for lol. please tell me if any of this means anything to you or if its just words

EDIT:

^ to me everything is great and feels significant, but is that because the things that feel significant are themselves good? if weed makes stuff seem more significant (too much dopamine weighs negative inputs too highly), that means it amplifies what’s already there (while also amplifying “noise”). so that tells us about the nature of what is already there in the mind’s contents, then?

so again, question 2: what does my experience while high + my normal thought processes as ive described them say or imply about me?