#between tricks: an anthology

[ecc-poetry]

Find a Google doc version of this poem here.

For a plain text version (no footnotes), see below the cut.

WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED (OR: INVENTORY AND APPRAISEMENT OF NEIL GAIMAN, HEREAFTER "DECEDENT")

prepared by Elisa Chavez 

I.  Do you know how much beauty there is in the world that you didn't create?

II.  The whole time, I wanted to put my hands to the screen to stop you coming through. In 2007 while you squirreled away another victim, I met you in San Diego. Asked a question. She and I were both 18 that year,  our hair and skin the same shade and more in common with each other than we'd ever have with you. But of course, I didn't know that. Then.

III.  I have read your poems.

Yikes.

If you understand you have failed, and if you pretend not to understand you have also failed. Eating is not sacrifice. Even birds know how to mimic. For years I wished I'd never seen those poems of yours, but I couldn't forget what they taught me: your hollow. Your knowinglessness.

IV.  Some of us are starting to feel like all these stories that gleamed stardust were really bits of ground-up glass you tricked us into swallowing. This is complicated by knowing that watching us swallow ground-up glass would probably get you off. When I cut myself on something in my house, the blood is scarlet. Once I stepped on a pin, saw an inch of it vanish in the meat of my big toe, and all I thought was, That's got to come out.

V.  Other men got to me, of course, which I think is my point: Even at your worst, you are replaceable.

VI.  In the forest, just past the thorned-over castle where the princess sleeps, there is a woman. Do not rape her. Turn left, where there is another woman. Do not rape her either.

Do not trust the you that breaks the wishbone of no between his fingers and spells success with it. Do not trust the little chorus you raised up from radishes.

Sometimes the act of handing out instructions demonstrates why they will not work.

VII.  Don't worry. Most of us will outlive you, and then we'll get to tell the story. I'm drafting your eulogy as we speak: It's an anthology  of tricks women learned to survive you,  how they chewed through your paper cages to hold each other, how they are putting out new leaves.

VIII.  I get my mushrooms from the supermarket  or the farmer's stand. I am not a myth about creation. Just like you are a master of holding the truth underwater until it stops moving. You ghost. You could strip a thousand women and you still wouldn't have anything.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 146: Hedge Magic

This episode references episode 123

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: blood; group sex; oral sex; anal sex; enthusiastic consent

A/N: Another one that's not a request, but it's much softer than the last couple so it'll be a pleasant palette cleanser

####################################

The Technocrats were closing in. You'd lived here for a while without issue, but nobody stays underground for long. You could get away, sure, you knew more than a few tricks to slip through the grasp of a couple of assholes in black suits, but it'd be a shame to lose what you'd built with Andy, not to mention all the stuff you'd accumulated over the last half a decade or so. You had a friend living in New York, a slightly washed up old ascension warrior calling himself Blitz. He owed you more than a few favours from the old days, and would be more than happy to put you up for a while in exchange for some enchanted drugs. Only problem was getting you, your bull-headed squeeze, and a flat's worth of aggregated crap together and across the Atlantic without passing through an airport. Air travel is a pretty risky bet for a tradition mage when they weren't on to you. Right now, airport security was a damn good way to find yourself face-down in a ditch, or worse. The Techs could always find worse.

You had one good ace up your sleeve though. That particular magic that makes such concepts as "here" and "there" meaningless: Correspondence. You smiled to yourself, it was Blitz who first taught you how to teleport, years and years ago, when you were a bright eyed young witch looking to change the world. Now you're older, a little more jaded, a lot warier around outhouse-sized men with German accents. But, you'd retained his lessons, and you knew exactly how to get to NYC before the afternoon. It'd just take power.

Power. That's always the rub. It's different for every tradition. The Hermetics start chanting in dead languages, the Ecstatics get drunk, the Chorus pray, more than a few Virtual Adepts swear by a handful of some stimulant or other, normally washed down with their preferred caffeinated drink. You're a Verbena, from a long line of witches and wise women. Two generations ago, your forebears may have found a goat to slaughter, but you believed in a more ethical form of magic. Blood was still important, sure, but it could be your own. The real catalyst for your power was a little more enjoyable to get: cum, lots and lots of cum. Sex has power, and you knew a few men who'd happily give you some. It'd work with women too, but it's more traditional to seduce a bunch of guys, not to mention more fun.

You lay in the living room, delicately scratching glyphs and runes into your flesh with the tip of an athame. Andy was standing by, watching patiently as blood dribbled from the shallow wounds, beading on your skin before following your curves down to the increasingly ruined mattress you'd dragged in here for precisely this reason. Paul and Brian were coming to see you off, just as soon as they finished up some odd jobs they had to do. They didn't know where you were going, nor how you were getting there, only to light the candles you'd prepared when you'd gone, and find somewhere to burn the mattress. They didn't need to know the why, the closer they came to knowing what's really going on, the more danger they're in. You all knew that. You also had another caller on the way, a serval called Leo, very much another pseudonym. He was an Etherite, but he was also a good lay, and down to fuck whenever so when you were planning your leaving party, you sent an invite.

You finished carving the last letter into yourself, feeling your skin him and prickle with energy as you passed the bloody knife to Andy to put away, before reclining on the mattress. As if on cue, the two lupines opened the door, hanging up their coats, talking between themselves and a Moroccan accent you hadn't heard in years. Seems like everyone's here.

You didn't bother waiting for them to all get ready before getting started. The whole point is to get as much fucking as possible within a short time, and you'd just finished carving yourself up. It wasn't a usual pain pulsing from your wounds. It didn't make you want to rest and heal, it spurred you on. Magical wounds made with a magic dagger, for the purpose of channeling a particularly carnal magic.

You felt your face flushing as you wrapped your arms around Andy, kissing him as his hands slid over you. Your cunt was dripping, dribbling slick over your legs as you grabbed at his balls, each one the size of an orange.

His cock extended from his sheath, hardening between your legs. You closed your thighs around it, humping his shaft as he grunted. The voices from the hallway were becoming more distinct, before stopping altogether and they stepped through the bead curtain into the living room.

Leo laughed "You Verbena, always finding the fun ways of doing things. I call first dibs on her cunt"

You grinned, Andy wasn't going to like that, but that means you'll just get it harder from him later. You stood up, taking in the looks of shock on Paul and Brian's face, contrasted by the feline smile from Leo. You knelt in front of him, letting him push his crotch to your waiting mouth. It'd been so long since you'd been with a felinid, you'd almost forgotten how eager they could be. Your tongue barely started teasing his sack before you felt his hands in your hair.

He pulled you up to the his sheath, purring as your tongue dipped inside, meeting the tip of his rapidly hardening cock. The barbs always felt strange on your tongue, firm and rubbery. You ran your tongue around the tip, feeling him tightening his grip before you leaned backwards, dragging him down before rolling and trapping him under your hips.

"Wanna make my boy jealous?" you murmured into his ear, urging him on before lowering yourself onto him. You rubbed up and down, grinding your clit against his barbed cock, reducing the Etherite below you to a panting mess.

Paul must've gotten over his trepidation, he stepped up, positioning his drooling, knotted cock in front of your face. You put on your best face, opening your mouth as you gazed up into his eyes and stuck out your tongue, inviting him in. Another canid cock rubbed over your asshole, oozing the prodigious quantities of precum they were famous for. You felt a stream of cool lube, massaged into your crack as he pushed gently in.

You shifted slightly, allowing Leo to slide in, the ample amounts of slick letting him sink into you, all the way to the base. You moaned into the cock in your mouth, hearing Paul groan at the vibrations of your voice. You leaned back slightly, feeling your asshole stretch around Brian's member. Your hips rocked gently, feeling the barbs in your pussy, the knot against your ass. Four pairs of hands fondled you, guiding your movements on the men inside you. You let the pleasure wash over you, the barbs in your cunt rubbing against the smooth cock in your rear, the salty-sweet taste of the precum painting your mouth, knowing that this was just the starter, whichever hole came free first would get a foot of minotaur schlong jammed into it.

Waves of sensation flooded over you. Your heart thumped in your ears. Your legs spasmed. Your muscles clenched. Andy pushed your head into Paul's crotch, making you gag on him as he started to pump down your throat. He knew what he was doing, jamming the lupine's knot into your mouth, force-feeding you cum. You gasped for breath between pumps, alternating swallowing and breathing.

Leo wasn't far behind, holding your hips down onto him as he unloaded into you, thick cum squirting inside. You shuddered with the feeling of being filled from both ends. Simmering power building in your cuts flushing you with endorphins. Your legs tightened up against Leo, trapping him in as your cunt milked him dry.

The knot left your mouth with an audible pop. Andy pulled you off Leo, positioning his own dripping rod against your used hole. You were as light as a panting, sweating ragdoll in his hands, your skin streaked with drying blood as you circled your hips on him.

He didn't care for foreplay. He'd just watched you get fucked by three other men, and wanted you to know who you belonged to. You gasped as he entered, the wide flare stretching you. Every thrust made you squeak, every pull dragging a dribble of felinid cum out with it. Your eyes rolled back, you loved it when he used you like this.

Your hand closed around the other lupine, jacking him off as your man used you to jack off. Your legs were still twitching from the last orgasm. You tried to guide him to your asshole, Andy picking up on what you wanted, thrusting into you more than lifting you up, letting you stuff your other hole before he redoubled his efforts. Your moans drowned out your thoughts. The buzzing magic made your head spin. You groped at your tits, feeling the next wave coming over you.

Andy pressed you against the mattress, forcing the other knot inside. As soon as your ass tightened around the base of Brian's cock, that was it. More hot ropes spurted within you. More power fuelled your ritual. More of that delicious haze filled your head. You could barely think at all now, focused on getting a wombful of Andy's spunk. You squeezed on him. You stroked his wide chest. You stuck your tongue into his mouth. You felt those gargantuan balls slapping against your ass. Every shuddering stroke they got tighter, rising inexorably as you sank.

You brought your mouth to his fluttering ear, smelling the musky sweat slicking his wiry fur to his skin. You uttered your command

"Cum in me"

You can't do mind-altering magic. You never learned how. Never wanted to. But as soon as those words left your lips, it was as though you were a master. The shuddering breathing was replaced by deep, braying roars. Andy stuffed the last few inches of his member into you, making you gasp as you stretched. He held you down onto him, throbbing and mooing. Then you felt it. Thick, hot, spraying so hard you could feel the pressure against your back walls. He would've filled you to bursting, had so much of his prodigious load not squirted out of you. It pooled underneath you in a puddle of glue-like seed. Your juices mixed, the cum of the four men, your own natural lubricant, and of course the blood still dripping from your etchings.

Your body buzzed, like a hive of bees were under your skin, trying to get out. You were only dimly aware of Leo herding the other men out. You clung to Andy. Both your hands were on his head, fixing him with your gaze. Your ears rang. You tasted ozone. The seed boiled within you. The world flickered, and the room was gone.

Your head cleared, the intoxicating power spent. You looked up from your lover, his softening cock slipping from you in a flow of cum.

You were in a warehouse, surrounded by a circle of wires and humming server racks. A bored looking man leaned against a pillar; overweight, balding, what hair he had was dyed acid pink, wearing a pair of black jeans and a band t-shirt under a jacket made of more patches than denim.

Blitz.

"Heard you'd be coming to visit" he threw a gym bag at you "change of clothes and documents. You're called Melanie now, and the big guy's Hector. Born and raised in Utah. Help me get your shit in the van"

You dug out your new fake ID. It was immaculate, Blitz was an ass, but he's an old man in a profession where most die young. You pick up some tricks.

Melanie. You could get used to that name. You turned to Andy, now Hector

"Here's to a new life"

[ddodol]

   [ 💙 — fluff ] [ ♨️ — smut ]

   quick drabbles ⭑.ᐟ

connected — j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ sungchan keeps losing his airpods. ]

bedache — l.cy ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ nothing better than spending mundane birthdays with anton. ]

terms of endearment — s.es ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ eunseok tries out different pet names. ]

starry-eyed — p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ showing off some tricks using wonbin's old hair tie. ]

past life — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ drunken nights where you can't help but overthink. ]

   oneshots ⭑.ᐟ

you got me — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you just can't help but play along when the cute pizza delivery guy attempts to prank you. ]

throwing a bone — j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ sungchan was there for your every need, heavy emphasis on every. ]

just a little — s.es ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ eunseok likes your haircut a bit too much. ]

sick man — p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ wonbin gets you out of more work and thinks he should be getting rewarded. ]

popsicle — l.cy ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ the summer heat is starting to get to anton. ]

get even — j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you feel responsible for sungchan's injury, it's only right if you help him out. ]

two on a good day — p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ wonbin should know better than to challenge you. ]

after hours — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ sohee finally sleeps over at your house, though sleeping is the last thing he had in mind when he agreed. ]

new hobby — s.es ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you only thought about picking up a new hobby, not a new man. ]

tastier — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ they say food is tastier when you say how much you love them. ]

acting up — j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ date nights with sungchan are always fun when there's a bit of mischief. ]    song series ⭑.ᐟ

soft — s.es ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ glossy lips look a bit too good on you, eunseok just can't get enough of them. ]

blushing! — p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you get high with your friends at wonbin's house, not knowing you'd get this needy. ]

oh no — h.sh ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ oh no, you just love him too much. ]

candy — l.cy ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ a sweet girl like you deserved better and anton was down to prove that. ]

cotton candy lemonade — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ 💙 — [ late night hangouts with sohee. ]

too deep — s.es ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you and eunseok were in too deep. ]

last chance — l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ — [ all you wanted was to reminisce a little, you didn't expect to have sohee back in your life so suddenly. ]

saturn emoji — p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ you just love the way wonbin makes you feel. ]

guess — s.es, j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ — [ you just got your first tattoo. ]

pretty please — s.es, l.sh ꩜ .ᐟ — [ and they say trios never work out. ]

guess — j.sc, p.wb ꩜ .ᐟ — [ you just got your first tattoo. ]

   mini series ⭑.ᐟ

all the ways — o.sr ꩜ .ᐟ — [ the cute kindergarten teacher thinks you're anton's mom. ] [ kindergarten teacher!taro series ] [ all the ways 💙 ] [ the kids are weird 💙 ] [ can i give you what you need? ♨️ ]

good girl — j.sc ꩜ .ᐟ — [ you make it hard for sungchan to keep it in his pants ] [ dilf!sungchan series ] [ good girl ♨️ ] [ anniversary♨️ ]

working — riize ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ the corporate lifestyle can be unexpectedly fun sometimes. ] [ anthology ] [ #✧₊⁺ working ] [ lost ] [ ...baby one more time ] [ look at me a little more ] [ nonsense ] [ nasty ] [ you can be the boss ]

between friends — riize ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ tba. ] [ anthology ] [ #✧₊⁺ between friends ]

   series ⭑.ᐟ

good luck, babe! — riize ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️ — [ it's rent day! luck was, in fact, not on your side at all— but hey! you have seven handsome guys by your side and that's a win in your book. ] [ choose your own route! ] [ #✧₊⁺ good luck babe! ] [ 787 ] [ 888 ] [ 877 ] [ 1111 ] [ 770 ] [ 780 ] [ 1122 ]

user doddol's kinktober2024 — riize ꩜ .ᐟ ♨️

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn��t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

[st4rgzer]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY

—> spencer reid

coming soon…

Fortnight…

-in which your unlawful affair with fbi agent spencer reid must come to an end, instead, a revelation is made.

The Tortured Poets Department…

-despite your complicated relationship with spencer reid, you need him, and you know he needs you.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

-in which you dismiss all the warnings from your friends, but who could deny spencer reid when his eyes light up every time he sees you, like a new toy.

Down Bad

-in which passion takes a form of frustration when you can’t have what you want, the object of your adoration being spencer reid.

So Long, London

-a withering relationship you can’t stop from fading which you decide shall come to an end.

But Daddy I Love Him

-your parents worries of you becoming an fbi agent increase when they find out who your heart desires.

Fresh Out The Slammer

-a night in prison bring out a realization about who’s arms you wanted to run into, fresh out the slammer.

Guilty as Sin?

-fantasies in your head start manifesting and interrupting your life, and spencer reid can tell.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

-your rivalry with dr. spencer reid reaches a near end when he takes it too far (burntout!reader).

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

-you try and trick yourself into thinking a relationship with spencer reid won’t crash and burn…but what if it doesn’t? (postprison!reid).

‎loml

-you thought it was perfect, everything with spencer reid was new and familiar at the same time. what are you supposed to do when it ends?

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

-profiler spencer reid can see behind your big bright eyes and witty remarks, yearningto know where your mind goes when you’re alone, when you’re not surrounded by people.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

-in an unfortunate series of events, spencer reid betrays you. he threw everything away, and for what? you decide to see him one last time.

The Alchemy

-in which the undeniable chemistry between you and spencer doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

Clara Bow

-…?

*********

summary pending…

The Black Dog

​​imgonnagetyouback

The Albatross

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

How Did It End?

So High School

I Hate It Here

​​thanK you aIMee

I Look in People's Windows

The Prophecy

Cassandra

Peter

The Bolter

Robin

The Manuscript

a/n: if anyone has any ideas for any of these fics, please share! this is long asf ik but just bare with me. also took “florida!!!” of cause i had no idea what to write for that one

[katysfavoritethings]

The Waterboarding Department: The Anthology: Track 6- But Daddy I Love Him

“But Taylor, we love getting in your business!”

Supposedly a track written to fans, “But Daddy I Love Him” seems to sonically rise from the ashes of previous track “So Long London.”  The hopeful synths and strings sneak in, setting the stage for the melodrama of it all.  First, the speaker blames her parents for being controlling, and then she comes for the Swifties: “Sarahs and Hannahs.”  They try to save you because they hate you.  

Then, here come the wedding bells in the chorus:  “I’m running with my dress unbuttoned/Screaming ‘But Daddy I love him!’” and then, the mean trick:  “I’m having his baby/No, I’m not, but you should see your faces.”  While I cannot speak to being shocked at the first half of this lyric, due to not hearing it properly the first time,  I have definitely seen reaction videos where the Swifties on screen shriek upon hearing the “news.”  

I, personally, got off of the “let’s tie every song Taylor writes to crumbs she leaves for us in tabloids” train after “reputation.”  That album, in particular, exhausted me in trying to keep up with the Tay-lore, because “reputation” makes zero sense if you don’t do your research. As much as I feel it’s fine for people to still do the digging, I think it takes away from the transformative nature of music as art.  When you tie every lyric to a definitive event or person, it gives it one meaning and one meaning, alone. 

I have always found Swift’s music to be most evocative when it is specific in details, yet general in theme.  The strongest example of this, in my opinion, is the sleeper-hit-that-could “All Too Well” from “Red.”  While we all may not have danced in the light of a refrigerator, the idea of a private and spontaneous experience with your ex definitely hits most of us.  

All this to say, I didn’t take her joke, here, seriously once I heard it properly.  If I recall, I only realized this song was angled at fans after reading theories in the fandom.  However, the theme of sticking with a crazy love seems to go back to the affair detailed in the first 4 tracks.  Everyone in the song wants her to break up with this person, but it only fuels her desire to stay with him. 

She uses the imagery of fleeing in a car in a couple instances, which brings to mind the best song on “reputation” (don’t @ me) “Getaway Car.”  I also find this to be represented in the instrumentation, with the driving high-hats leading the charge of the thumping kick and snare pattern.  But, “Getaway Car,” this is not.

The story is split between chastising fans and alluding to imagery of running away.  I find the narrative aspect of “Getaway Car” to be most engaging as it unfolds over the expertly-crafted beat.  And here, she adds church bells for drama, but I find the lack of focus on the deranged nature of this relationship makes this story… almost boring?  I find it hard to connect to this relationship as its own entity when she’s pulling so much from “The Little Mermaid” and “The Notebook.”

In the last verse, she fantasizes about how everything will iron out nicely in this relationship that no one understands.  Even her daddy changes his mind about him, but we, the Sarahs and Hannahs, are not invited to the wedding.  But, as we see across the rest of this album, maybe there won’t be a wedding…

Lyric Score:  3 / 5  Music Score:  3 / 5  Total Song Score:  3 / 5

Running Album Score:  3.1 / 5

Up next:  Track 7- Fresh Out The Slammer

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things (2x09): “The Gate” Review

If you haven't yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things reviews:

Stranger Things Episode Reviews:

Season 1:

The Vanishing of Will Byers

The Weirdo on Maple Street

Holly Jolly

The Body

The Flea and the Acrobat

The Monster

The Bathtub

The Upside Down

Season 2:

MADMAX

Trick or Treat, Freak

The Pollywog

Will the Wise

Dig Dug

The Spy

The Lost Sister

The Mind Flayer

Stranger Things Play:

Stranger Things The First Shadow

If I were to pick an episode from the show that is the one, this is it. Not only is "The Gate" my favorite season finale, but it's also my favorite episode in the entire series (so far). Season 2 in general I rank as the best season because it had so many individual moments and arcs that I enjoyed, as well as the right combination of thrills, laughs, and heart to keep me entertained. I loved all 9 episodes, and I could rewatch everything from this season and never grow bored of it.

I stated in my review of “The Upside Down” that I was glad the show continued past season 1, that it didn’t become an anthology series a la American Horror Story or The Twilight Zone, and that they overruled doing a major time jump so they could keep the main cast. In addition to all that, another reason why I’ve never been on board with the “Stranger Things should have ended at season 1” crowd is because season 1 itself finished on a pretty bleak note. It wasn’t a downer ending, but it was the kind of ending that left a sense of dread, like things weren’t over and were about to get worse. El was presumed dead (doesn’t help that the Duffer Brothers originally planned to kill her off at the end of season 1), Will was throwing up slugs in the bathroom and hallucinating the Upside Down, the Gate was still opened (meaning more monsters would be able to come through and terrorize Hawkins), there was the fact that (regardless of what happened to Brenner) the Government covered up the deaths of multiple people while browbeating everyone else into silence, and most of the main characters were left with bitter regrets over how things went down (i.e. Barbara’s death, Hopper’s guilt over betraying El, Mike’s grief, Jonathan and Nancy not getting together, etc). You could argue this is similar in tone to the endings for John Carpenter’s Halloween, The Fog, and The Thing (all movies that served as inspiration for Stranger Things), but damn, talk about a depressing way to go out.

By contrast, while I wouldn’t say "The Gate" ends on a completely happy note, it’s framed in a more hopeful and cautiously optimistic way compared to “The Upside Down.” The titular Gate is finally closed, and even with the Mind Flayer hovering angrily over the school from the other side, there’s nothing it can do about the situation (for now). Hawkins Lab is permanently shut down, and government officials are held accountable for Barbara’s death. Relationships are culminated and kept, from romantic (Mike/El, Lucas/Max, Nancy/Jonathan) to friendships (Steve/Dustin) to even relationships where the people involved are just there for one another (Joyce/Hopper, Nancy/Dustin, etc). We get to see the character development of certain individuals (Steve, Lucas, Hopper, Max, El) come to fruition in this episode. Most of all, there’s a sense that these characters can finally move on with their lives.

Best way I can describe it is like how Terminator 2 (which was one of the movies that inspired season 2) wrapped things up: Unlike the first movie, which ended with Sarah's acceptance of a future war between humans and the machines, the second movie subverted that with the destruction of Cyberdyne Systems, the melting of the remaining terminators, and the end of Skynet as a threat. It’s not "happily ever after" (though there was an alternate ending filmed that was framed as such), but the final scene is nevertheless hopeful: It concludes with Sarah narrating how, despite the unknown future, she has the sense that things can improve for the better:

Likewise, that’s how I see this episode: It feels like a conclusion where aspects set up beforehand are paid off here, plot-threads are tied up, the main threat has been stopped, and even though the characters don’t know what the future holds for them, they at least know they can move forward despite their losses and everything that’s happened.

I don’t know how season 5 will play out (as of writing this). I always hope for the best, and I pray the Duffer Brothers end the show on a satisfying note. However, even if season 5 turns out to be a total dud, I can always come back to this episode and headcanon it as where the show truly ended. Like I said, season 2 is my favorite, and the one I enjoy rewatching more than the others.

Part 1: Steve’s Character Development

I still remember back in 2017 (way before I ever got involved with the fandom) the praise that was heaped on Steve following season 2’s conclusion. This wasn’t just limited to the internet. I was in college at the time, and I remember multiple people at my university were talking about Stranger Things in-between classes. Whenever the show was mentioned, Steve’s character development was always brought up positively. People were impressed with it. So was I. If you had told me when I first saw season 1 that Steve would grow to be my favorite character, I would have laughed. Some of my anger towards him had abated by the time I finished season 1, but I was still ambivalent about his presence on the show. I’m sure there are those who still hated him at the time, but I was more in the “Let’s see where his character goes from here” crowd like most people were. And it paid off in a huge way. He’s now beloved.

I know it’s been talked about to death how his character changed in the writing process, how he originally was supposed to be a jerk before he'd be killed off, how the Duffer Brothers liked Joe Keery and realized they could do more with Steve’s character beyond writing him as a one-dimensional bully, and how his friendship with Dustin was unplanned………………and to put it bluntly: I don’t care for fans who see this as a negative. Writing a story and characters is an ever-changing process, and Steve wasn’t the only character on this show who was retooled for the final product. Sometimes, changes are necessary to either make the story work, or because writers realize they can do more with a character beyond pigeonholing them into a stereotype. They could have easily kept Steve as a bully if they wanted to, but considering the plethora of other bullies on this show (Billy, Angela, Troy, Tommy, Carol, etc), I’m grateful they decided to do something new with Steve instead of being predictable. Plus, think of what we would have missed out on if Steve was absent from the show.

What works about Steve and how they handled his arc this season is it's both a logical and emotional progression from how things ended for him in season 1: Steve felt awful over how he acted towards Nancy and Jonathan (as anyone with a conscious would), went to apologize to Jonathan at his house, got pulled into a nightmare where he encountered the Demogorgon for the first time, was given the option to leave by Nancy but chose to come back to save both Nancy and Jonathan, and had his entire worldview shattered by the realization that another darker dimension filled to the brim with monsters existed next to theirs. So not only was Steve feeling immense guilt for his behavior towards Nancy and Jonathan, but any sense of safety and security was gone now that he knew what lurked on the other side (and could even climb through the walls to attack him at any given moment). The only people he could depend on now were the ones who also knew about the situation, and the only person he was close to at that point was Nancy. Furthermore, having that kind of traumatic experience (by which, I’m referring to a life-or-death situation), causes a major shift in perspective going forward. Suddenly, that which seemed important in the moment becomes immaterial in the grand scheme of things.

This is why I shake my head at fans who claim that Steve still gave a crap about popularity or getting one over Billy at this point. Putting aside how this was always a one-sided rivalry Billy instigated, and how Steve’s reactions to Billy’s prodding (including in this episode) have ranged from indifference to contempt, Steve’s experience with the Upside Down fundamentally changed him to the point that those aspects of high school he might have once cared about ring hollow to him now. He may have done a good job initially disassociating himself from the horrors by trying to act like everything was normal, but that wasn't going to last forever (just like Nancy couldn’t keep her grief over Barbara’s death buried any longer). In any case, it’s significant that Steve's establishing character moment in the first episode this season was him writing out college application essays for Nancy to go over while also discussing what their potential future looked like. His focus wasn’t on popularity, or what the crowd would think about him. The crown for King of Hawkins High School was worthless to Steve in the grand scheme of things, and most of his efforts this season were centered on trying (and failing) to keep his relationship with Nancy together.

It's not just about Steve still loving Nancy (even after their breakup). It's that she’s also the only stable factor in his life right now. When he loses her, it’s devastating not just because it means the end of their relationship and any future they had together, but also because he has no one left to hold onto, and he’s in free fall.

All of this makes his eventual friendship with Dustin not only important, but also cathartic. In addition to both characters having a crush on Nancy while also having dealt with the horrors of the Upside Down in the past, they’re able to listen to each other and understand one another. Steve sees Dustin struggling with finding ways to appeal to girls, gives Dustin the best advice he knows how to, and goes above and beyond to keep Dustin and his friends safe from the demodogs, as well as from Billy (even if Steve gets the shit beaten out of him by doing so). Dustin recognizes this compassionate side to Steve underneath his hardened exterior, and it’s a big reason why he advocates to the others to bring Steve along with them in the car: It isn’t just about needing Steve while they burn the tunnels; Dustin wasn’t going to leave an unconscious Steve with Billy in case Billy woke up and decided to attack Steve again. Dustin knows, for all of Steve’s grumbling, Steve would follow through on protecting them, not just because of the promise Steve made to Nancy, or how Steve stepped in on Lucas’s behalf when Billy attacked him, but also because Steve couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to them in the tunnels. Steve had several opportunities during the first two seasons to walk away from this, and he didn’t. Dustin knows he’s not going to now.

Just like with “Dig Dug,” this episode gives several nods to The Goonies. Not just with Dustin and D’Art paralleling Chunk and Sloth’s friendship from that movie, or even the kids exploring underground (with the difference being they’re intentionally distracting the Mind Flayer as opposed to looking for buried treasure), but also the comparisons that can be made between Steve and Brandon Walsh (Josh Brolin’s character): Both of them are older male athletes put in the position of looking after the kids on their adventures. Both are gruff, snarky, and reluctant to be on this adventure in the first place (and even try to stop the others from going at one point), but ultimately step up to the plate in keeping the kids safe to the best of their abilities. Difference is while Brandon is an older brother to Mikey (Sean Astin’s character), Steve acts more as an older brother figure to Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Mike. And while that movie ends with Brandon getting the girl (Andrea Carmichael), the same doesn’t happen with Steve and Nancy.

Honestly, I don’t mind they did a subversion to that. Steve’s character has evolved past having his motivations centered on Nancy. He’s a part of this group now, regardless of whether he’s in a relationship with her, and he recognizes that what’s going on right now is bigger than him or however their relationship ended. It’s why he’s out there looking for heaters and other supplies with Nancy for forcing the Mind Flayer out of Will. It’s also why he doesn't guilt-trip her for what happened, and even encourages Nancy to go with Jonathan. Aside from knowing that Nancy is in love with Jonathan, Steve recognizes he wasn’t a good boyfriend to her. Steve regrets that, but also sees Jonathan was able to be there for Nancy in a way that he wasn’t. Not just with everything that happened in season 1, but also how Jonathan went to bat for Nancy in taking down the Lab whereas Steve hesitated and didn’t. There’s also how, in the last episode, you can see Steve staring at Jonathan comforting an unconscious Will while Nancy was quietly there in that moment supporting Jonathan. Steve knew Nancy needed to be with Jonathan as they were taking Will to Hopper's cabin. Jonathan was not in a good place emotionally, and was at risk of losing Will, and he needed someone to hold on to in order to get through this. Nancy was that person, not just in being the one Jonathan could cling to while Joyce forced the Mind Flayer out of Will, but also as someone who didn’t have the same emotional attachment to the situation as Joyce and Jonathan did, and could act with a clear head and improvise when needed (like when she used the hot poker on Will to get him to stop strangling Joyce).

And no, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Steve was aware of Jonathan’s needs and emotional state in this moment. If we’re going by the interpretation some fans have thrown out there over how Jonathan lied to Nancy in “The Pollywog” about Steve asking him to take Nancy home from the Halloween Party, then (as I said in my review at the time), I’d imagine that Jonathan wasn’t just trying to spare Nancy’s feelings, but also extend some grace towards Steve since he likely knew Steve would feel bad about how he acted later.

And Steve did. The “I’m a shitty boyfriend” line isn’t just him being self-deprecating, but also trying to atone for that by letting Nancy go without her feeling guilty, ending things amicably between them, and helping to support Jonathan without being overt about it. Steve already felt awful about how he acted towards Jonathan in season 1 (which is why he showed up to his house to apologize to him despite not knowing Nancy was there at the time), and now he has another chance to fix that and extend the same grace towards Jonathan as Jonathan once did for him. It was still Nancy’s choice to go with Jonathan to Hopper’s cabin, but now she can go without feeling burdened by how things went down between her and Steve. Steve loves her and wants her to be happy in this moment. And if he must let her go, that’s what he’s going to do. It still means he’s going to support her and the rest of the group in whatever small ways he can. We even see that towards the end of this episode when he attends Barbara’s funeral with Nancy and Jonathan.

That’s some massive growth on his part compared to how self-absorbed he was in season 1.

It's also why I (and other fans) felt bad for him at the end. You can tell by his look from the car after he drops off Dustin that he really did want things to work between him and Nancy. However, he also knows Nancy deserves someone who can make her happy, even if it's not him.

The whole love triangle between Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve echoes the one between Duckie, Andie, and Blane from the 1986 movie Pretty in Pink. Both love triangles feature a girl (Nancy/Andie) choosing between an upper-class preppy guy (Steve/Blane) and an outsider (Jonathan/Duckie) who both have crushes on said girl. Pretty in Pink goes deeper into themes about classism and the wealth gap between students (which is a major factor in the problems Blane and Andie face during the movie) but Stranger Things also touched on those themes briefly with Nancy and Steve’s relationship and how it was judged by characters around them. Not just with how Barbara was a confidant to Nancy about her relationship with Steve similar to Andie and Iona, but also how the main antagonists from that movie (Steff and Benny) have the same contemptuous attitudes towards Andie and Blane as a couple as Tommy and Carol have in seasons 1-2 when they were belittling Nancy and Steve’s relationship. At first, both Steve and Blane put more stock into what their snotty friends think of their relationship, leading both characters to screw it up through their own insecurities and poor choices, which drives a wedge between them and the girl they love. However, both eventually realize the error of their ways, and just like with Blane, who finally gets fed up with Steff and Benny’s attitudes and cuts them off, Steve does the same thing with Tommy and Carol. Steve doesn’t end up with Nancy like Blane does with Andie, but he does channel Duckie’s growth towards the end of the movie where he encourages Nancy to be with Jonathan similar to Duckie recognizing Blane cares for Andie and pushing her to pursue a relationship with Blane.

Steve may not have finished this season with a romantic relationship (which Duckie was implied to have gotten at the end of the movie from the Kristy Swanson character, Duckette, who smiles at him during the dance), but he got a valuable friendship with Dustin in the process. He’s also a lot closer to the Party than he was at the end of season 1, and doesn’t feel as alone as he once did. His future is still uncertain to him, but he isn’t tied down by shallow notions of popularity or fears about how he’ll be judged by people at school. Being there for Dustin, and by extension the other members of the Party, is what he’s got going for him in the moment, and he’s content with that. He’d rather be there for people who care about him than gaining the approval of those who don’t.

On a last note, regarding Steve, I’m curious if Dustin told him after the Snow Ball that Nancy danced with him. Knowing Steve, I think he’d be proud for both of them: Dustin for getting the best girl of the evening (and a Junior in high school no less), and Nancy for her act of kindness.

Part 2: Max and Billy

Just like El hitting Angela with the roller-skate was a long time coming, so was Max finally standing up to Billy and making it clear she was done with his shit. It brings to mind the scene from The Shining when Jack Torrance (whom Billy was based on) threatens his wife, Wendy, after she sees his deranged manuscript, and she proceeds to knock him out with a baseball bat. Except in this case, Max drugged Billy, but never actually hit him with the spiked bat.

I know some fans bemoan that Steve lost badly to Billy during their fight. While there’s a part of me that wishes Steve had won, I’ve accepted the way this scene played out for two reasons: 1.) Steve would later get one over Billy in “The Battle of Starcourt” when he rammed the car he was driving into Billy’s car to save Nancy’s life, and 2.) From a narrative perspective, it needed to be Max who stood up to Billy. She is the one who put up with his abuse, and she was the one who finally reached her limit and drew a line in the sand. It never ceases to amaze me how many people in real life behave like Billy and Angela, and then get upset when the people they’ve been tormenting strike back in a way they can’t ignore. It’s like watching someone abuse a dog and then seeing them get upset when the dog eventually bites back.

It's significant that what finally drives Max to drug Billy and threaten him with the spiked bat is what Billy does to Steve. Like I said in previous reviews, and as revealed in the tie-in novel Runaway Max, the main factor behind Billy and Max moving to Hawkins in the first place was Billy breaking Nate’s arm back in San Diego and intimidating Max into silence, which permanently wrecked her friendship with Nate. What happened back then was traumatizing to Max, and she still carries regrets over wishing she'd done things differently (even though that situation wasn’t her fault). Now she’s in a similar scenario, except Steve has taken Nate’s place, and she knows Billy will go further with Steve than he did with Nate:

But even without the tie-in novel, or the backstory about Nate, there’s what's occurred on the show between Max and Steve: Despite just meeting, Steve willingly worked with Max, treated her just like any member of the Party under his charge, and protected her from the demodogs. Up until that point, Max never had anyone step in on her behalf, which made her feel like she had to weather horrible circumstances on her own. Then, in addition to Dustin and Lucas reaching out to Max, Steve steps in for her: First with the demodogs, and now with Billy when he threatened her and Lucas. They haven’t even known each other for 24 hours, and Steve is already acting like the protective big brother Max wishes Billy had been.

So when Max sees Billy viciously hurting Steve with no intention of stopping, she knows she needs to act. Not just because she’s scared of Steve either dying or getting permanent brain damage, but because Steve was there for her, and she intends to be there for him. She can’t fix what happened with Nate in the past, and she can't change the kind of person Billy is, but she can stop this current situation from escalating while also returning the compassion Steve showed her.

The sad thing about all this is it didn’t have to be this way. Runaway Max goes more in detail about this topic, but when Max first met Billy and Neil, she was initially excited at the idea of having an older step-brother. She wanted a sibling relationship with Billy, and it wasn’t from lack of trying either. Billy, however, already decided that he didn’t like Max, didn’t want anything to do with her or Susan, made zero effort to try and cultivate any positive relationship with Max, and was repeatedly nasty to her. She basically became the person he could take his rage out on while deliberately isolating Max from her friends. And this was BEFORE they ever moved to Hawkins.

This is a big reason I roll my eyes hard at Billy stans who claim Max wasn’t sympathetic towards Billy’s situation. She was. There’s even a scene from the book when she tried to intervene on Billy's behalf when Neil was whipping Billy with his belt. Billy was so ENRAGED with Max over this that it scared her away. Every single instance Max tried to reach out to Billy to have any kind of meaningful relationship with him, or even show compassion to him, Billy spat on it and repaid her with cruelty. He was VERY CLEAR in his actions and words that he resented having Max in his life. At best, he wanted nothing to do with her, and at worst, he used her as an emotional punching-bag.

And let’s be clear: Regardless of Billy’s circumstances, there was a choice here. He could have recognized the cruelty Neil inflicted on him for what it was, and not direct that towards Max. He could have been kind to Max. He could have worked to be the big brother she wanted. Instead, he showed zero empathy for her, or the fact that she was living under the same roof he was, and proceeded to do everything in his power to control her, abuse her, and isolate her. I’ve said before that Billy’s motivations can be best summed up as “I’m miserable, so everyone else gets to be miserable with me” and I meant that. If he was going to suffer, then by God, so would she. Same for anyone else unlucky enough to get in his way (like Lucas and Steve).

I talked about this in the last review, but I have no respect for people who want to pretend that Billy didn’t have any autonomy or agency with how he treated others. I especially find the view among Billy stans that, because of what he was going through with Neil, it somehow gave Billy carte blanche to be as vile towards everyone else as Neil was towards him, to be repugnant. There’s this extremely infantilizing perspective I’ve seen from certain fans over how Billy acts, as if Billy just can’t help but be cruel, abusive, racist, misogynistic, and bigoted, and how dare anyone call him out for his behavior, and how he needs to be swaddled and cuddled. From how they frame it in their heads: He just can’t help himself, and needs to let his emotions out somewhere, and why can’t people just be understanding of that and let him rage all over the place (even if that involves him purposefully hurting other people in the process). 😩🙄

It's already bad enough seeing people in real life engage in that kind of navel-gazing (especially when it comes to abusive men and all the asinine apologies made on their behalf) and seeing it here with Billy stans doesn’t make it any better. Those self-indulgent bullshit excuses can take a flying leap into an active volcano for all I care.

It doesn’t help that, aside from characters like Joyce, Jonathan, Will, and Max who’ve also suffered abuse and didn’t become abusers themselves, there’s El’s backstory from season 4: In addition to being stolen as a baby and losing the one friend she had at the Lab (Kali), she was repeatedly bullied and abused by the other special kids, was constantly dehumanized, and got groomed by two different sociopaths (Brenner and Vecna) who each had their own agendas. All of this happening before El was 9 years old. She had every excuse in the book to take Vecna up on his offer to break out of the Lab and begin a campaign of destruction and chaos, or even to kick the dead bodies of her “brothers and sisters” who’d abused her for so long. Instead, not only was she horrified and disgusted with Vecna, she fought him and banished Vecna to the Upside Down to stop him from hurting anyone else. Even with her circumstances and at her lowest, El still had empathy for others, and this is despite having no other emotional support around her and being surrounded by people who wanted to use and manipulate her.

Billy, on the other hand, has no empathy for people. He doesn’t care how his actions hurt others. This isn’t like he’s unable to understand that his behavior is wrong either. He knows. Just like with Angela though, he justifies his cruelty and runs with it. And if anyone is in his path while he’s on a rampage, well too bad, so sad. Internet user Lewis Lovhaug (Linkara) once said “There’s difference between having a sympathetic backstory and actually BEING sympathetic.” Given the number of abuse apologies I’ve seen on Billy’s behalf and the desperate attempts to make Billy’s behavior look endearing and justified when it isn’t, it’s pretty clear to me that fans cannot differentiate the former from the latter (or don't want to).

This is why I find it satisfying when Max finally gives Billy the ultimatum over how things will continue from this point forward. She’s done. She has tried everything else she could possibly think of to appeal to Billy, and it hasn’t worked. So she’s going to speak the language he understands. And boy does Billy get it.

There’s an irony in how Dacre Montgomery mentioned that Billy feared emasculation from Lucas and Steve, and while both characters get one over on Billy (Lucas by kicking Billy in the groin when he had Lucas pinned to the wall, and Steve getting a few punches against Billy thrown in), it’s Max who ends up emasculating Billy in the end.  

As the years have gone by and I’ve witnessed people who've used their emotions to purposefully annihilate anyone who crosses them, including repeatedly treating others as collateral damage to their rage while feeling a sense of self-righteous entitlement to act like this, I find Max’s story to be deeply relatable. I am past the point of giving the benefit of the doubt, especially after seeing so many people like this over the past few years who've refused to take any responsibility for their mean-spirited behavior, and are continuing to double-down when called out on it. It's to the point my sympathy has dried up, and I am hard-pressed to feel bad for them when they face harsh consequences later.

In any case, aside from stealing the keys to Billy’s car, Max driving them to the tunnels was hilarious, especially with Steve’s freak-out and the revelation she’d only driven once before in a parking lot (which Runaway Max reveals was at a Jack-In-The-Box). I also appreciated the shocked but impressed reactions from the boys over Max subduing Billy, and even Mike’s compliment of “Incredible!” to her once she drives them to Merrill’s Farm.

What I like is this wasn’t about Max proving anything to the other guys (even if she still wanted to be in the Party). It was about proving to herself that she was able to overcoming adversity, she was capable of more than she realized, and she didn’t have to be bound by others.

I should talk briefly about Karen and Billy’s meeting at the beginning of the episode since it factors into next season. I know the Duffer Brothers and Shawn Levy in Beyond Stranger Things joked about revisiting Karen and Billy as a thing in season 3………………….and I wished it had just stayed as a joke and never made it past the drawing board.

No Shawn, the world did not need this. 😒 I get the intention with the bubble bath, glass of wine, and the bodice ripper novel (Heart of Thunder by Johanna Lindsey, which was published in 1983) was to emphasize that Karen is in a loveless and unfulfilling relationship with Ted, and that her scenes with Billy were meant to parody the covers of those kinds of books. If it had just been a parody and stopped there, I would have just rolled my eyes and said “whatever.” It’s the fact they took this idea seriously and carried it over to season 3 that bothers me. I’ll talk more about that when I review the next episode.

As for Billy, the “charming persona” he puts on for Karen reminds me of the way Neil in Runaway Max charmed Susan into getting into a relationship with him. People like Billy and Neil are good at hiding the uglier aspects of their personality when they want to, which just makes my skin crawl since the audience knows how both guys have acted behind closed doors. That’s also including Billy's misogynistic comments about girls, and how he’s gone through relationships like tissue paper. All of this makes his interactions with Karen skeevy.

The one thing I agree with Billy on though: Nancy isn’t his type. She would NOT have put up with his behavior, and would have seen through his bullshit immediately.

Part 3: The Battle Against The Mind Flayer

One of the best aspects in this episode is how the visuals look AMAZING. The tunnels Steve leads the Party through are just as disgusting, twisted, and grotesque as they were when first introduced. Will’s exorcism and the piece of the Mind Flayer that escapes him is terrifying and ominous. Even the Gate itself looks unearthly yet strangely beautiful. Worlds Turned Upside Down has discussed how the Duffer Brothers put an emphasis on practical effects with the necessary CGI and green-screen for the scenes that needed it, and the result is it’s breathtaking to look at. It reminds me of the craft and care that went into The Lord of the Rings movies, and how those visuals still look impressive 20+ years later.

Speaking of The Lord of the Rings, both the books and the movies came to mind when I thought about how all three of these arcs (the tunnels, Will’s exorcism, the Gate) connected. Will’s deterioration under the Mind Flayer reminds me of Frodo succumbing to the influence of the Morgul Blade that the Witch King stabs him with, which slowly turns him into a wraith. In order to save both Will and Frodo, they have to be taken to a different location, which is Hopper’s Cabin (where the Mind Flayer can’t locate them) and Rivendell (where Sauron’s servants can’t reach Frodo). Just like how Arwen in the movies (but not in the books) and Elrond fend off the Ringwraiths and (in Elrond’s case) sweep them away before they cross the Fords of Bruinen, which saves Frodo from his fate, Joyce is the one who takes the initiative in burning the piece of the Mind Flayer out of Will (with help from Nancy and Jonathan). In both Frodo and Will’s case, they’re left scarred in some way. Frodo’s wound from the Witch King never truly heals while he's in Middle Earth, and Will still maintains his connection to the Mind Flayer despite its particles being forced out of him. Anytime Frodo is near the Ringwraiths, the wound acts up, similar to how Will feels the Mind Flayer’s presence whenever it’s active.

Likewise, the scene where Steve, Mike, Max, Lucas, and Dustin distract the Mind Flayer by burning the tunnels (causing it to send the demodogs to attack them) can be seen as a parallel to when Aragon, the rest of the Fellowship, and the forces of Rohan and Gondor arrive at the Black Gate to serve as a distraction for Sauron and his forces. Both groups act as a diversion in order to achieve the real goal: Frodo and Sam destroying the One Ring and ending Sauron’s reign of terror, and El and Hopper closing the Gate on the Mind Flayer. Just like with Sauron, by the time the Mind Flayer realized what was happening, it was way too late. The only difference is the Mind Flayer isn’t yet destroyed and still an active threat plotting its revenge from the Upside Down.

It makes me speculate on what the Mind Flayer’s “One Ring” is. As The First Shadow revealed, the Mind Flayer existed way before Henry/One/Vecna encountered it in the Upside Down, so only killing Vecna likely wouldn’t eliminate it as a threat. Maybe there’s some kind of “heart” or life support system in the Upside Down that needs to be destroyed for the Mind Flayer to truly die. But I digress.

With Will’s exorcism, while I’m glad the show paid homage to The Exorcist, and also invoked a little of The Evil Dead with how Deadites possessing humans from that series would act, I appreciate how this scene did its own thing. Major props to Noah Schnapp for making his violent convulsing look realistic (something Charlie Heaton praised him for in Worlds Turned Upside Down), as well as showing how animalistic and unhinged the piece of the Mind Flayer inside Will had become. That scene where Will violently chokes Joyce was scary. Considering that Bob was originally slated to die in episode 4 by Will’s hands, it makes me wonder if a possessed Will was going to choke Bob to death before the Duffer Brothers changed that.

During the scene where Joyce remembers Bob and proceeds to turn up the heat, I recalled a specific moment from The First Shadow between Joyce and Henry/One/Vecna in 1959. This was AFTER Henry had killed his mother and sister, and fled to Joyce’s play at the school (you can read more about that in my review) to persuade Patty to run away with him before Brenner found them. During a moment when the power had gone out and they were alone in the basement, Henry confronted Joyce, telling her that she was a good person while ominously warning her that the world would punish her for it and take away everything she held dear. There’s a dark irony in his words considering he’d the one responsible for most of the tragedies later in Joyce’s life, including Bob’s death and Will’s disappearance and possession. At that point in the play, Henry had surrendered to the malevolent influence of the Mind Flayer. I think he expected Joyce to be as breakable as he was, and that conversation was him projecting onto Joyce. Unfortunately, he underestimated Joyce, and failed to understand that Joyce always had an inner strength regardless of how hopeless things got. That ended up costing Henry/One/Vecna and the Mind Flayer, especially in this moment when Joyce saves Will.

I am curious if the piece of the Mind Flayer was intending to get back to the Gate once it was out of Will’s system, or if it intentionally hid itself in this world before the Gate closed. As we see in season 3, a piece of the Mind Flayer in its black particle form can still exist. Shutting the Gate doesn’t completely destroy it, and the Russians opening the Gate again simply revived that piece. It only seems to be when those particles are possessing someone else’s body (like its Meat Flayer form composed of all the bodies of the people and rodents it controlled) and the Gate closes on it that said particles appear to truly die. I don’t know if the Mind Flayer was aware of this, or if it was just a happy accident that the separate part of it got revived when the Russians opened the Gate again. Either way, it makes me wonder what knowledge the Mind Flayer had about how it could operate in this world, or if it knew that the Russians had already come to Hawkins with the intention of opening the Gate again, and it was simply bidding its time.

In any case, this was a heartwarming scene of the Byers family reunited and relieved after everything they’d been through:

I also enjoyed the later scene of Jonathan filming Will dancing with Joyce before they went to the Snow Ball. Sames goes for the picture of Superhero Bob Newby. That was a nice way to honor him.

The quest in the tunnels was amusing and thrilling, and reminded me of both The Goonies and the climax for Super 8 when Joe and Cary are underground searching for Alice (complete with using firecrackers as a distraction for the Alien in the tunnels similar to what Steve and the Party do by lighting the tunnels on fire). Dustin’s over-the-top reaction to getting sprayed with spores and the group’s annoyed responses were funny. Ditto for Steve’s “I’m in such deep shit” comment. The scene where Steve sets fire to the hub and then shouts at the others to run invoked the same energy from the Aliens movie when Ellen Ripley burns the Queen’s nest after she saves Newt and makes a beeline for the dropship.

Dustin’s reunion with D’Art in the tunnels was bittersweet. It was sweet that D’Art still had affection for Dustin (even if he was pissed about getting knocked into the basement) and didn’t attack them (even though the Mind Flayer was directing all demodogs to kill them). It was also sweet seeing Dustin get to be the hero briefly in distracting D’Art and saying goodbye to him (as confirmed in Beyond Stranger Things). The bitter part was that D’Art was slated to die since he was connected to the Mind Flayer. It’s still unclear if that’s a connection D’Art was born with, or if he somehow ended up possessed by the Mind Flayer's black particles (not that Dustin and the others would have had time to force those out of D’Art if that was the case), and I’m hoping that’s something season 5 clarifies on. I also wouldn’t mind seeing another arc centered on the difference between Demodogs, Demogorgons, and other Upside Down Monsters possessed by the Mind Flayer vs those that aren’t, and how the latter group would combat the Mind Flayer’s influence.

Regardless, RIP D’Art. In another life, you’d have made a loyal pet for Dustin, a deterrent for bullies, and had all the 3 Musketeers you’d want.

In regards to Mike’s role in this episode, I maintain he was well within his rights to be furious with Hopper over being deceived about El’s supposed death (even if Hopper had valid reasons for keeping him in the dark). Despite telling El at the beginning of this episode that he hadn’t given up on her, his conversation in the previous episode with Max about how the Mind Flayer took El implies he was starting to come to the belief she had perished. He held on to hope for as long as he could (helped by briefly seeing her through the window of his house after the Demogorgon’s defeat in season 1), but there was only so long before doubts were going to creep in. Mike being angry with Hopper, especially after an entire year of grief, depression and being misled, is understandable. I get where he's coming from.

Same goes for his plan to burn the hub in the tunnels despite Steve’s protests. I don’t doubt Steve’s intentions were to keep them safe (and he still goes along with Mike’s plan in the end), but Mike made the right call: The reason the others were able to succeed in driving the Mind Flayer out of Will and closing the Gate is BECAUSE of the pain they inflicted on the hive mind. The Mind Flayer was not thinking rationally being attacked on all fronts like that, and it paid the price as a result. 

Finally, there’s El and Hopper’s arc. Like Ronia The Robber’s Daughter where there’s a reconciliation between the titular character and her father, the same can be said for Hopper and El during their drive. Hopper recognizes he needed to have been honest with El from the beginning about a lot of things, like what really happened to her mother, or when she could leave, or even about his past. I forgot Hopper hadn’t told El about Sara before this episode. There’s a lot about Hopper’s past that he’s kept El in the dark about (the tie-in novel Darkness on the Edge of Town, which takes place after season 2, is about Hopper recounting to El what happened during his time in New York City back in the 70s), and how much of that is because he considers the information too personal to share with El vs how much is his reluctance to be emotionally vulnerable is up for interpretation. What is unambiguous though is how his depression has molded his worldview:

Sadly, that view doesn’t seem to have gone away by season 4 since he’s telling Enzo/Dmitri that he views himself as a curse on his loved ones. Speaking from my personal experience as someone who’s dealt with depression for years, and painfully understands the feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing that are pervasive on a daily basis, I understand where Hopper's headspace is. Even when you’re surrounded by friends and loved ones, there’s always the nagging fear that you’re a burden on them and life would be so much easier if you weren’t there. It’s hard work trying to find ways to deal with depression without feeling overwhelmed by hopelessness, but it is possible.

That’s probably why I’m a little more lenient with Hopper in this episode than most fans are (season 3 is a whole different issue). He is trying. He didn’t get it right with El, and to his credit, not only does he own up to that, but he tries to fix things with her to the best of his ability. First by not blaming her for leaving after his outburst, apologizing for how he acted beforehand, complimenting her new look (even if it’s a backhanded compliment of “MTV Punk”), and opening up to her about his shortcomings. He even succeeds in what he initially promised El from the beginning: To get a deal with Dr. Owens so that El can live a normal life and not be hunted by the Government. It helps that the circumstances have provided the right opportunity to make this kind of arrangement, and that Owens wasn’t going to refuse this favor since he’s a honest man and El was about to save them all.

To her credit, El recognizes she’s also done stupid stuff (including her regrets about running off in the first place), and wants to try and make this arrangement between them work as well. She recognizes Hopper is giving his best effort, and El finding out about Sara allows her to understand where Hopper is coming from regarding her safety. He’s never used or manipulated her like Brenner has, and he isn’t going to ever act that way with her either.

I know Becky gets mentioned briefly in this episode, and I’m curious how Hopper handled the message Becky left Flo about El and Kali. I’m guessing he either had to call Becky, or drive over to clear up the situation so that she wasn’t left worried about what happened to El. It also makes me wonder if El later told Hopper about Kali. She doesn’t in the car scene (only saying she never should have left), but it’s possible she did once they closed the Gate.

Speaking of Kali, even though she only appears in a brief flashback in this episode, I like that the Duffer Brothers demonstrated how her advice has elevated El’s powers. I mentioned in my review of “The Lost Sister” that Kali didn’t have anything to do with the Mind Flayer and she didn’t tie into what was going on in Hawkins, and I was speaking in relation to her arc over seeking vengeance, which wasn’t connected to the Upside Down or the Mind Flayer’s plans to infect Hawkins. However, the side-plot with her and El was important in helping El develop her abilities and finding an emotion (anger) that she could use to channel her powers effectively. Beyond Stranger Things discusses how Kali was meant to act as the Yoda to El’s Luke Skywalker, except Kali would be a darker version of Yoda in that her advice was coming from a place of revenge. In this scenario, I don’t think this is a bad thing because El’s anger was not only needed to close the Gate, but also to give El catharsis in dealing with the injustices wrought upon her as she was growing up. Kali was giving El the best advice she knew at the time. It’s why I referred to that conversation between Storm and Nightcrawler from X2: X-Men United: “Sometimes, anger can help you survive.” There is a fundamental truth in how anger can be a driving force to keep someone going. However, as we see in later seasons, it isn’t the only force, and there is another that’s equally as powerful: Love.

The trip to the Lab and confrontation with the Mind Flayer echoed some story elements from the video game Silent Hill 3. Both feature a teenage girl with a traumatic past being forced to confront the horrors of another world that they’re connected to.

El grew up bullied and abused by the other special kids, and manipulated by Brenner and Vecna to their own ends. She managed to defeat Vecna by banishing him to the Upside Down, but it caused a chain reaction that would later lead El to accidentally open a Gate and unleash the Upside Down on Hawkins.

In a similar vein, the protagonist of Silent Hill 3 is Heather Mason, the reincarnation of Alessa Gillespie and Cheryl Mason (the other half of Alessa’s soul). In the first Silent Hill game (which I talk about briefly in my review of “The Upside Down”), Alessa was born in the town of Silent Hill with supernatural abilities and also grew up bullied and abused by her classmates. She was also manipulated by the adults in her life, specifically her mother, Dahlia Gillespie. Both Dhalia and Brenner even shared the same abusive trait of locking Alessa and El in an isolated area if they displeased them. In Alessa’s case, she was used by her mother (who was a part of the religious cult called The Order) to birth their God and start the Apocalypse. During the ritual, Alessa body was burned badly and her soul ended up splitting, with one half becoming a new baby named Cheryl Mason, who would later be adopted by the protagonist of the first game, Harry Mason, and the other half of her soul residing in her burnt body, where her mother kept her in a state of excruciating pain. The result is the ritual was unsuccessful, and the events of the first game deal with Dahlia manipulating circumstances so that Harry and Cheryl come to Silent Hill. Cheryl is recombined with Alessa to give birth to their God, but Harry manages to defeat it, and a dying Alessa reincarnates into a new baby for Harry to take care of, who grows up 17 years later to be Heather.

In any case, aside from backstories involving abuse and exploitation, both El and Heather are forced to reckon with their pasts and return to the area where they once escaped: El from Hawkins Lab, and Heather from Silent Hill. Both are forced to take down a world-ending threat (The Order from Silent Hill, and the Mind Flayer in Stranger Things). Both end up losing a parent, which acts as a driving force for their actions (El finding Terry in a catatonic state, and the death of Heather's adoptive father, Harry). Both girls partner up with an older man (Hopper/Douglas) who lost their own child a long time ago (Hopper lost his daughter Sara, and Douglas lost his son), with the girls having similarities that remind these men of their own deceased kids. Even the car drive El and Hopper take to the Lab parallels the drive Douglas and Heather take to Silent Hill midway through the game:

And just like with El's fight underground against the Mind Flayer, Heather is forced to descend into a pit to fight the newly born God before it can wreck havoc.

I’ve mentioned before in previous reviews that the Silent Hill video games were a major inspiration for how the Duffer Brothers constructed the Upside Down. However, the parallels between El and Alessa/Heather’s arcs are hard not to notice, and the games dive into themes regarding trauma, abuse, human failings, and confronting the past that Stranger Things also explores in detail. Both Heather and El are forced to confront their pain, but they ultimately come out stronger from it, and even turn the tables on the forces (The Order, Hawkins Lab) that used them for their own ends.

There are shout-outs and nods to other video games and movies (some intentional, some not) that factored into the battle against the Mind Flayer in this episode.

First one that most fans will know is Aliens: El’s confrontation with the Mind Flayer mirrors Ripley’s fight with the Queen, which also involves the characters holding off the personal armies of these monsters. Even the Queen’s design has some similarities to the Mind Flayer's form:

Additionally, Jaws has also been cited in Worlds Turned Upside Down and Beyond Stranger Things for the encounters the characters have with the demodogs and the Mind Flayer. Bob’s death in the previous episode was a nod to Quint’s death at the hands of the shark. Likewise, El combating the Mind Flayer as its particles cross through the Gate was meant to parallel the same intensity as when Richard Dreyfuss’s character confronts the shark underwater from his shark-proof cage. In both cases, the characters survive, but barely.

There’s also the video game The Last of Us with the comparisons that can be made between the dynamic Joel and Ellie have to Hopper and El here. Just like Joel, who puts himself on the line to keep Ellie safe from the infected and other dangerous humans, Hopper acts in the same protective way with El by shooting the arriving demodogs so that El has time to close the Gate. Both work as a team, and have an established bond of trust that's developed during their adventure. In this episode, despite how shaky things have been between them, El and Hopper manage to rebuild the trust that was shattered several episodes ago, and it’s through them being willing to be vulnerable with one another. The game explores this as well with Joel and Ellie where, despite how rocky things start out between these two when they first meet, a familial bond is established similar to El and Hopper: Adopted daughter with adoptive father taking on the world.

Another inspiration comes from the horror series, Hellraiser. The Duffer Brothers have cited Clive Barker (creator of Hellraiser) as inspiration for how they designed the monsters of the Upside Down. Vecna himself was based off Pinhead from that series. For the Mind Flayer, while I don’t have direct confirmation on this, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the beings from that series that helped inspire the Mind Flayer was Leviathan (AKA Lord of the Labyrinth):

I’ll be honest in admitting that my knowledge of the Hellraiser series is limited to the first two movies, but I know that Leviathan was a major character in Hellbound: Hellraiser 2, and was revealed to be the creator and ruler of the Cenobites (Pinhead, Chatterer, Butterball, etc). Similar to the Mind Flayer, it is the overarching Lord of its domain (which in this case is a dark, hellish, endless Labyrinth), and has a desire for control that manifests in enslaving others. It also has a low opinion of humanity, seeing them as chaotic beings that disrupt the order of its world, much like how the Mind Flayer views humans and despises the “unnatural structure” they enforce. Even Leviathan's transformation of the sociopathic Dr. Philip Channard into a Cenobite puppet (combined with a fleshy, phallic-like tentacle attached to his head) mirrors the relationship the Mind Flayer has with Vecna, where Vecna also acts as its puppet despite thinking he’s the one in control.

There’s also similar plot threats that Hellbound: Hellraiser 2 shares with the show: The main protagonists of that movie, Kristy Cotton and Tiffany, attempt to defeat Leviathan and the other Cenobites while closing the gate that’s opened between their world and Leviathan’s. There’s even the theme of Leviathan/The Mind Flayer’s control being shaken by those it tries to subjugate: In the movie, when Kristy reminds Pinhead and the other Cenobites present about their human origins before they became what they are now, they briefly shield the girls from the newly transformed Dr. Philip Channard (under the control of Leviathan), who punishes the Cenobites by slaughtering them before reverting them back to their human forms. In the show, D’Art rebels against the Mind Flayer’s control to allow Dustin and his group to pass, despite it costing his life. We will see this again in season 3 when a possessed Billy briefly wrestles back control and protects El from the Meat Flayer, resulting in it gruesomely killing Billy in retaliation.

Like I discussed in my review of “The Spy:” “The Mind Flayer’s entire existence is about control, and if it can’t control something, then that thing must die.”

Finally, while this isn’t a video game cited as inspiration, it did come to mind when analyzing Will’s arc and the Mind Flayer’s presence in season 2:

In 2000, there was a trilogy of video games released that acted as prequels to the 1999 found-footage horror film The Blair Witch Project. The first video game, Blair Witch Volume I: Rustin Parr, takes place in 1941 in Burkittsville, Maryland and deals with one of the historical events described in the movie: The kidnapping of 8 children and murder of 7 at the hands of a hermit named Rustin Parr, who took the kids to his isolated house and forced the lone survivor (Kyle Brody) to stand in a corner while he butchered the others. Rustin Parr was later arrested after confessing to what he did, claiming that he acted under the influence of the titular Blair Witch. The game itself follows a woman named Dr. Elspeth Holliday, an agent working for a secret government program called “Spook House” that investigates paranormal occurrences across the United States, as she travels to Burkittsville to discover what’s going on.

Despite the serious question of whether or not these games are canon to the Blair Witch series, the game itself is an intriguing survivor-horror experience, and features a story that adds its own spin to the Blair Witch mythology. As the game reveals, the real threat turns out not to be the eponymous Blair Witch, Elly Kedward (who was scapegoated for all the supernatural occurrences in the woods), but a demon from Native American lore named Hecaitomix. Said demon has established dominance in the area of Black Hills Forest, controls many of the supernatural shadow creatures Dr. Holliday encounters during the game, and holds the ability to twist and change the woods so that people unlucky enough to wander into them get lost (similar to what happens to the protagonists from the 1999 film).

The game also features ideas that I see parallels to in season 2 of Stranger Things: Will’s “Truesight” into the Upside Down vs the concept of “Givn-ur” (or sight) that Asgaya Gigagei (a Native American shaman living in Black Hills Forest) gifts to Dr. Holliday to allow her to see the evil that exists in the woods.

Additionally, the game also explores the theme of traveling to different dimensions, with the difference being the twana stick figures imbued with magic are what create paths to those dimensions.

With the various pathways, the woods in the game echo the haunted, twisted environment of the Upside Down (complete with its own monsters). There’s even a theme of how time works in the woods because of these paths:

While the show has been consistent on the idea that time in the Upside Down operates the same as time in Hawkins (i.e. Will missing for a week in the Upside Down = The same amount of time passing in Hawkins), the reasons for why the Upside Down froze in time on a specific day (November 6th 1983) are still left vague. The game (and even the 1999 movie) feature the protagonists ending up at Rustin Parr’s house, even though the house was burnt to the ground by the townsfolk after he butchered those kids. It’s still there, like it’s been frozen in time as well. The game leans towards the idea that different time periods converge with one another, enabling people from the past to interact with those in the present, or even people in the present to see snippets of the future. Despite the game taking place in 1941, Dr. Holliday manages to interact with a witch hunter from 1786 named Jonathan Prye, and she even briefly sees what happens to the protagonists from the 1999 horror film (whose venture into the woods took place in 1994) while at Rustin Parr’s house in the other dimension (though she doesn’t know who these people are, or that she’s looking into the future).

The reason I bring this up is that, while the show hasn’t gone into the idea of time loops, maybe it’s possible that (similar to how Rustin Parr’s house is “frozen” in a different dimension) there is a convergence of different time periods in the Upside Down, and that dimension as an exact replica of the world on November 6th, 1983 is simply one of them. Or maybe both the Upside Down and the Rustin Parr house are meant to be a captured moment in time, like a camera that takes a photograph, or even a video that lasts only for a certain amount of time, forever in a loop. There’s also the idea of different paths in the game leading to different worlds (one of which is a place Hecaitomix would be hard-pressed to escape from if he was ever transported there), which makes me wonder if they might introduce other dimensions beyond the Upside Down. Or if defeating the Mind Flayer would mean trapping it in a different realm beyond the Upside Down where it would be rendered powerless and unable to escape. But I digress.

Additionally, the game also features a similar plot thread where Kyle Brody (the remaining survivor of Rustin Parr’s massacre) is possessed and used as a tool by Hecaitomix, similar to the Mind Flayer using Will for its own ends. Dr. Holliday manages to drive out Hecaitomix from Kyle Brody via a magical twana, while Joyce uses heat to drive the Mind Flayer out of Will. Additionally, Hecaitomix’s true form (which is seen when Dr. Holliday rescues one of Hecaitomix’s victims, Bleeding Boy) has a similar dark form to the Mind Flayer.

One thing that's consistent with most of the media I've listed is how their plots combine a world-ending threat (or in the case of Jaws, a threat to Chief Brody's community on Amity Island) with the protagonist either facing down ugly truths from the past, or trauma they need to reckon with. It’s a major reason why the scene of El closing the Gate while recalling the hallucination of Brenner telling El she has a wound she needs to deal with strikes a powerful chord with me (and is one of my top 10 favorite moments from the show). There something empowering in that kind of arc, which invokes the idea that, no matter how scary or overwhelming something might seem, it can be overcome. And it doesn’t have to be done alone either. El may have closed the Gate, but the reason she got as far as she did was with help from Hopper and her friends. Same thing can be said for the other inspirations: The Lord of the Rings and its core theme of companionship with the Fellowship. Aliens with Ripley and the help she receives from the android Bishop and Colonial Marines like Hicks. Jaws with Chief Brody and the help he received from Matt Hooper and Quint. Hellbound: Hellraiser 2 and the partnership of Kristy and Tiffany in defeating Julia, Dr. Channard, and Leviathan. The Last of Us with Ellie and Joel working together. Dr. Holliday from Blair Witch Volume I: Rustin Parr gets as far as she does via help from her companion Stranger, the agents at “Spook House,” and Asgaya Gigagei. Same can also be said for Silent Hill 3 where Heather receives aid from trustworthy sources (Douglas) and those with their own agendas (Vincent). The kind of help varies, and each person gives their own unique contribution, but it helps the protagonist succeed in the end, and imparts an important life lesson: Sometimes, help is needed in overcoming difficult challenges, and there's nothing wrong with that. You don't have to be alone in your struggle.

Part 4: Snow Ball and Miscellaneous

While the fight against the Mind Flayer was the highlight of the episode, the last 14-15 minutes were also golden, and featured some truly memorable moments.

Murray camped outside Hawkins Lab and getting flipped off while cheerfully waving goodbye to military personnel was hilarious. Someday, I hope that will be the same reaction I have towards certain individuals in our Government when they're finally forced to face consequences after constantly abusing their power. If you’ve followed this blog, you know which individuals I’m referring to.

When the news was talking about how “several high-ranking members from the U.S. Department of Energy” admitted their involvement in the cover-up of Barbara, I was curious if one of those members was Brenner. I talked about this in my review of “The Upside Down,” but I was under the impression he’d fallen out of favor with the Government by the time season 4 rolled around, or at the very least had gotten some kind of punishment from his superiors for the shit-show that happened when El opened the Gate. Hopefully, this was another black mark on his diminished reputation. I’m assuming Owens was also forced to admit his role in this (it’s his voice on the tape Nancy made), but it doesn’t seem to have gotten him fired. That apparently occurred after the Russian invasion in season 3.

For those wondering what happened to the dead demodog that Dustin and Steve shoved into Joyce’s fridge, the tie-in comic “Winter Special” reveals that it turned into sludge overnight. I don’t know if this is canon on the show, but I don’t mind this explanation because it gives an answer to why there were never any dead demodog bodies found through-out Hawkins once the Gate closed (at least those that weren’t underground at the time). It also explains what likely became of the Meat Flayer’s body in season 3 when the Russian Gate was destroyed.

The scene with Hopper and Owens prior to the Snow Ball was amusing. I have an appreciation for the friendship and trust these two developed. It feels earned after everything they went through this season. I only wish we’d gotten to see more positive interactions between them, given the direction their characters go in later seasons. The moment where Dr. Owens offers his sandwich to Hopper (and Hopper later takes a bite) is a nod to the 1982 film Diner (which also starred Paul Reiser).

The movie is set in 1959 (same year in-universe when Henry Creel would kill his mother and sister) and deals with a group of older male friends who reunite in Baltimore for the wedding of one of their own (Eddie). The eponymous diner is the location where the guys hang out and banter. For the most part, aside from Eddie’s upcoming wedding (which is contingent on his fiancé passing a test regarding her knowledge of football) and Boogie being in dept, the movie for the most part just follows these guys on their misadventures as they figure out what they’re doing with their lives. It’s like what St. Elmo’s Fire tried (and failed) to be. It helps that the writing is better in this film compared to St. Elmo's Fire. The Duffer Brothers have cited Diner as a favorite of theirs (as well as one of the reason they cast Paul Reiser for Dr. Owens), and even credit the movie for paving the way for Seinfeld (which has been described as a show about nothing, similar to how they describe this movie being about nothing). While Diner isn’t my cup of tea, I can see how the group's dynamic from that movie is incorporated into the show, specifically with Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin. We see that banter at the beginning of the season when they’re at Palace Arcade, and we even see it in this episode when they’re joking about Dustin’s hair at the Snow Ball.

Speaking of which, I’m really happy they followed through on that plot-thread they set up in season 1 from that conversation between Mike and El. The Duffer Brothers admitted in Beyond Stranger Things that the Snow Ball was planned from the beginning of the season. Overall, it was worth it, and it looks visually stunning. Cinematographer Tim Ives mentioned that the Snow Ball was inspired by several John Hughes movies. The two that came to mind when I was watching were Pretty in Pink (Dustin’s hairstyle even mimics Duckie’s when he goes to the dance with Andie) and Sixteen Candles. Both movies feature a dance, but (and this is something the Snow Ball sequence excels at) they also explore themes about teenage insecurity and the fear of being rejected.

We see that play out with Dustin where he comes in confident (helped by encouragement from Steve), gets his self-esteem shattered when no one wants to dance with him (not helped by the reminder that Max chose Lucas), and is left feeling alone and sad. It reminds me of Sam’s (Molly Ringwald) situation in Sixteen Candles when, in addition to everyone forgetting her birthday and feeling unworthy of the attention of a jock she has a crush on named Jake, leaves humiliated during the dance to hide out in the auto-shop. Ted (Anthony Michael Hall), one of the geeks at the school who’d been making moves on her, finds Sam and talks privately with her. The scene itself is laced with comedy, and there’s also Ted’s motivations about wanting to win a bet with his other geek friends, but both him and Sam share a moment of authenticity, and he later does an act of kindness for her by encouraging Jake to date her.

On the other hand, the moment between Dustin and Nancy isn’t laced with comedy or ulterior motives (nor is it supposed to be), but it is genuine and filled with pathos. Not only does it call back to Dustin’s crush on Nancy in season 1, but it also features Nancy lifting Dustin up in a moment of affection (which is a major contrast to her shutting the door in his face from the first episode). Nancy’s undergone her own character development since season 1, brought out by hard experiences and losses, and it’s nice seeing her subtly acknowledge that to Dustin. Plus, given that she knows what it’s like to be humiliated, she wants to spare Dustin that. It’s rooted in compassion (same as Steve’s support of Dustin prior to the dance, showing his own character development). It's also rooted in wanting someone else to be happy, and letting them know things will improve. It invokes the spirit of early John Hughes movies, but it also calls back to the theme of these characters raising up one another in moments of loneliness, and giving each other a reason to continue moving forward.

We also see that with Joyce and Hopper later in the parking lot when they're smoking a cigarette (a call-back to the memory they shared from their school days in “Trick Or Treat, Freak”) and Hopper hugs Joyce, giving her reassurances about grief getting a little easier to bear each day. They’re both world-weary, but they’re doing what they can to make it through.

Finally, in regards to El, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max, I’m glad they each got their moments at the Snow Ball. Will still gets called “Zombie Boy,” but at least it’s not in a mean-spirited way, and the girl he dances with seemed genuinely interested in him (and was the one who asked him to dance in the first place). I even chuckled when Mike had to gesture for Will to go with her as Will looked befuddled. The slow dances between Mike/El and Max/Lucas, along with their kisses, were a heartwarming way to end the season for their characters.

Part 5: Song Choices

In addition to being a well-written episode, some of my favorite 80s songs were played here. Most of these are ones I grew up listening to in high school, and hold a place in my heart.

First song heard in this episode is “The Way We Were” by Barbara Streisand. This plays when Karen is reading her novel in the tub while Ted is asleep on his chair, and Billy rings the Wheeler's doorbell to see if Max is there.

Since the song is playing while Karen is avoiding Ted (and yelling at him to get the door), I honestly question if either Karen or Ted have any positive memories with one another. I seriously doubt these two have ever shared a candle-lit bath together (not that I want to picture what that looks like). Their relationship in The First Shadow (which mostly consisted of snogging in school) wasn’t anything to brag about, and everything we’ve seen between Karen and Ted (as well as Nancy’s conversation with Jonathan in “The Flea and the Acrobat”) indicates this has been a loveless marriage from the beginning. With that in mind, the song comes across ironically when it’s describing “Misty water-colored memories, Of the way we were.” From Karen’s perspective, there aren’t any.

Next song is Donna Summer’s “I Do Believe (I Fell In Love).” This plays when Karen meets Billy at the door, and she later gives the address to the Byers house where she believes Max might be. This is also when Billy puts on the charming act, and Karen is smitten by it. 😒

Yeah………….just like with the previous song, I’m assuming this one was also meant to be ironic considering the context of the scene it’s placed in. These two might THINK they’re “fallin’ in love,” but everything about how this scene is framed (i.e. Billy eyeing Karen’s figure, and Karen staring at Billy’s ass as he leaves) can be summed up as LUST. That ain't the same as love.

Speaking of which, the next song is “Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benatar. This plays when Steve drops off Dustin at the Snow Ball.

The song fits perfectly with Steve and Dustin, who’ve both had their experiences with heartbreak and recognize that “Love is a battlefield.” The song itself is referring to a couple who are working to keep their relationship together amid the trials and tribulations. In the context of this scene from the show, without the romantic undertones, the chorus conveys a sense of two people uplifting one another “We are strong. No one can tell us we’re wrong. Searching our hearts for so long. Both of us knowing: Love is a Battlefield.” Steve is hoping Dustin has a good experience at the dance despite his own pain over the end of his relationship with Nancy, His motivation for helping Dustin is rooted in altruism.

This leads to the next song that's heard once Dustin goes inside the school: “Twist of Fate” by Olivia Newton-John.

This song was introduced to me by this show. I have a CD of the soundtrack for the first two seasons in my car, and every time I listen to it, I love playing this specific song (sometimes repeatedly). It’s uplifting and inspires hope. Despite where the song is placed in this episode, I’ve always attributed it to specific scenes from the first two season finales. Some of the lyrics invoke the image of Will escaping both the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer’s possession of him (“This is a new beginning. I’m back in the land of the living.”), Mike and El’s reunion after being apart for nearly a year (“Two hearts that lost the beat will now resume”), as well as how the main characters have survived two horrific ordeals, almost as if guided by a higher power (“The gift of life extension by divine intervention. It's gotta be a strange twist of fate. Telling me that heaven can wait. Telling me to get it right this time.”). Sometimes, a twist of fate can be a blessing instead of a curse.

Next song is a personal favorite: “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper. This plays during the dance when Dustin is rejected by several girls, and is left heartbroken, only for Nancy to come and dance with him. It’s also plays when Will dances with the girl who asked him, as well as when Max and Lucas slow dance together.

This is one of the few songs I get emotional when listening to because it perfectly encapsulates the passage of time: Looking back at the past with nostalgia, with the hope that those you love will always be there for you regardless of where you are or what’s going on in your life. It’s the longing for someone to catch you when you feel alone and lost (“If you’re lost, you can look, and you will find me, time after time. If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting, time after time.”). It’s a perfect song of raw vulnerability. It also works beautifully in this scene. Nancy being there for Dustin. Lucas being there for Max (with the Snow Ball acting as one of the happy memories she would later use to evade Vecna in season 4). Hopper being there for Joyce. Mike being there for Will. Everyone in this group is catching the other when they fall or feel alone.

Finally, we have the song that’s not only associated with the Snow Ball, but also with Vecna and The Mind Flayer: “Every Breath You Take” by The Police.

Even when I listened to this in high school, I always picked up on the creepy tone and stalkerish vibes, despite knowing at the time this was mistaken for a love song by so many people. I enjoy listening to it because it has a haunting melody, and even with Sting’s interpretation of the song (which he described as “sinister” and meant to invoke the idea of Big Brother from George Orwell’s 1984), I could still see how people might interpret the lyrics in a romantic sense. The idea of someone watching over you can be a comfort or the creepiest thing on Earth, depending on who the person is.

I love how the show frames the song in both a romantic AND a sinister context (as the Duffer Brothers intended).

The song starts when El arrives at the Snow Ball and dances with Mike, with both being happy to be with each other again after a year of trauma and separation. (“Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace. I dream at night, I can only see your face. I look around but it's you I can't replace. I feel so cold and I long for your embrace.”) There's a sense of longing between both characters, and it’s understandable. El wanted to reach out to Mike the year she was in hiding, and Mike wanted to believe El was alive during that time. They finally get the relief they've sought all season by meeting again, and now they can feel safe in this moment. Same goes for Max and Lucas.

But then the camera cut away to the outside while the song continues to play until we’re in the Upside Down. Suddenly, the main chorus (“Every move you make, every step you take. I'll be watching you.”) take on a more menacing meaning when we see who’s hovering with rage on the other side:

“Oh can’t you see? You belong to me.”

Again, Sting based this song on the idea of Big Brother from George Orwell’s 1984, and what character embodies that more than the Mind Flayer in its desire for complete control, unquestionable submission, and the idea that you are always being watched?

Overall, this was a stellar episode that ranks #1 in my book. To finish this review, and to show my appreciation for Steve Harrington, these are a few collectibles from season 2 that are some of my favorites:

[strxnged]

ALHAITHAM: # magic.

My secret santa gift for the illustrious Miss Ying @mlkbwunnies (AKA Mrs. Alhaitham)! Thank you for tolerating my poetic inclinations—I can't be normal about anything including your selfship. I am so glad to have met you in the last year or so. You are truly a light in the (many) communities you contribute to! I love being in your server and getting to chat with you and seeing your life updates on my dash. I hope this coming year is full of blessings and light!

Word count. 0.9k. Genre. cozy; established relationship w. a touch of magic.

Alhaitham was roused by the sound of music.

Nascent light of a sun hinting to rise cast a gentle glow on the bed he shared with you. His gaze fell on your bare shoulder. He felt a dreamy rise of strings, a melody of chimes, and his own heartbeat swell as he leaned over you and placed a warm kiss on your cheek. Though he meant for it to only be one kiss, he saw your beautiful lashes and flushed cheeks and he couldn’t resist planting a few more. “Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered. This woke you enough that you half-hummed, half-sighed with a dozy smile—maybe at him, maybe at your dreams. Smiling, he tightened his arm around your waist and gave you one final embrace before he slipped out of bed and donned a housecoat. The music was fading.

It was only as he shut the door to the bedroom that he paused, listening. The music had suddenly stopped, leaving him in somewhat confused silence. It was only a minor hypnopompic hallucination, a common and harmless occurance of post-slumber muddlement. Alhaitham was skeptical of anything deeper than this; he knew that the space between the land of dreams and reality was only a mental trick. Even on a magical day such as today, his mind was only playing tricks on him, he was sure.

Yet he was acutely aware of a sense of wonder. Would it… come back if he opened the door again?

Alhaitham set his hand on the cold doorknob, considering. He was the only one aware of this idea. Kaveh wasn’t around to seed doubt, and you would only think that he was gazing at you one last time. This was something that, at the thought of it, eroded any other concerns. After all this time, he couldn’t get enough of gazing at you. He turned the knob. 

You were still adorably bunched up under the blankets, fast asleep as he’d left you. But the music came flooding back.

Anxiety crept through his body. Perhaps it was a confirmation bias? An expectancy effect? If he closed the door now, the plucked harp floating through his mind would stop, but only because he thought it would. So he thought, determined, that of course it would continue, because that was how hallucinations worked.

The door shut. The music stopped.

It was all Alhaitham could do to step lightly as he sped across the house to one of the bookshelves—yours, which was filled with charming fairy tales, poetry, and anthologies of holy and magical phenomena. Neither of you were very superstitious, but sometimes coincidences occurred in this world that could not be explained by the comforts of science.

He set the book on the table by the window, turning immediately to the index. Slipping his reading glasses onto his nose, he dragged his finger down the list until he saw “Christmas.” He flipped to entries which denoted werewolf children, burning shoes, baths, pudding, elves—but nothing, to his comfort, about music playing in the mind. He was about to close the book, make a coffee, and pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Music, he thought.

Guided by the index, he journeyed through several more entries until he saw one that made his heart skip a beat.

Musical Fantasy: A misunderstood phenomenon characterized by hearing beautiful music in one’s mind. Despite popular conceptions, it only occurs when the one you love is dreaming of you in the early morning. These melodies can sometimes be heard by and channeled through spiritual mediums, and thus transcribed into playable notes. It is said that hearing Musical Fantasies indicates mutual, undying desire.

Alhaitham closed the book and returned it to its position on the shelf. As he brewed his coffee his brows were furrowed in consternation. There had always been a part of him that fancied mysteries, a part that was drawn to the magic of the world. It was against his best judgement and beyond his control. To step into the murky waters of the supernatural would mean to let go of his need to understand—to let go of his impulse to feel in control. He didn’t hate it—he feared it—he was captivated by it. Despite everything, he was intrigued. 

It was not too different from that shine in your eyes that had gripped him all those years ago.

He heard your quiet footsteps like a cat’s down the hall, and he stood, his chest fluttering. Music or no music, he needed to see you, and needed to feel your gaze returned.

As you stepped into the room you seemed to hit a warm, gentle wall. Alhaitham’s hands pressed the small of your back and your hair, drawing you into a tender but tight embrace. The music rang in his head, and yet it seemed to fade into the background when he felt your skin against his. Electrifying. Profound.

His breath tickled your ear as he said in that low, alluring voice of his, “I love you.”

Alhaitham felt you melt into him. And in that unique, familiar way, magic and logic coincided to explain exactly how he knew you were his.

Author's note. I must add that I'm pretty rusty at writing romance these days, so I hope you don't mind that I added in some contemplation with the magic component. Merry Christmas, Ying! And pass it on to your husband, too. (。・ω・。)

[whencyclopedia]

The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky

The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky is a folktale from the Arapaho nation about a girl, Sapana, who is tricked by a supernatural sky-being into traveling to his home, where he keeps her, and then must find a way to return to her people, helped by the buzzard and the hawk.

The story is nearly identical to the first part of the Cheyenne legend of Falling Star in which a young maiden climbs an ever-growing tree in pursuit of a porcupine and finds herself in the sky realm, unable to return to earth. In that story, the young woman dies trying to escape, but her son, Falling Star, is rescued and raised by the meadowlark, finally returning to his people as a great champion. In the Arapaho story, Sapana is rescued by the birds who hear her cry and come to her aid.

The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky deals with many themes common in Native American literature including devotion to a cause and determination (exemplified in Sapana's pursuit of the porcupine), things not being what they seem (the porcupine is actually a sky-being), and the importance of one's home. The tale also serves as an origin myth explaining why the Arapaho always left food for the buzzard and hawk after a buffalo hunt. The story is still among the most popular Arapaho tales, is also told by citizens of the Caddo nation, and is frequently included in anthologies.

Cheyenne, Arapaho, & Bird Figures

It is not surprising that the Cheyenne Falling Star and the Arapaho The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky share similarities as the two nations were – and still are – closely related. The Cheyenne and Arapaho allied against common enemies in the early 19th century, and, although they were different nations, they had, and have, many cultural aspects in common. Scholar Adele Nozedar comments:

When the settlers first came upon them, the Arapaho were already expert horsemen and buffalo hunters. Their territory was originally what has become northern Minnesota, but the Arapaho relocated to the eastern Plains areas of Colorado and Wyoming at about the same time as the Cheyenne; because of this, the two people became associated and are also federally recognized as the Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes. (25)

It is unclear where the name Arapaho originated, but it seems to have been given to the people by European colonists who mispronounced the name given them by the Crow – Alappaho ("Many Tattoos") – and then the Arapaho began to refer to themselves by that name. They called themselves Hinono'eino ("the people" or "our people"), and the Cheyenne called them Hitanwo'iv ("People of the Sky"). After forming their alliance, the Arapaho and Cheyenne intermarried, and their histories became entwined. As Nozedar observes, their close relationship is recognized today by the US government, but it should be noted that they are distinct nations, each with their own culture, religious rites, and stories.

In regards to religion, the Arapaho have acquired the reputation of being more spiritually oriented and introspective than other nations, which has led some writers to make sharp distinctions between them and the Cheyenne. Scholar Michael G. Johnson, for example, comments, regarding the two in the 19th century:

The Arapaho were often noted for their religious and contemplative disposition, less warlike than the Cheyenne. They were a nomadic equestrian people, hunting bison, developing military and age-graded organizations, and observed the Sun Dance. (119)

While Johnson's observation on the religious disposition of the Arapaho is accurate, the other aspects listed apply equally to the Cheyenne. The Cheyenne also had military societies, hunted bison, had age-graded organizations, observed the Sun Dance, and were no more "warlike" than the Arapaho. The Cheyenne Creation Story and Arapaho Creation Story also have much in common. The differences between the Cheyenne and Arapaho, though marked, are not as great as their similarities, and this is evident in their literature, which features common themes and figures, including birds.

Birds frequently appear in the tales of all Native peoples of North America and often as helpers, messengers from the gods, and guides. The use of birds in stories, lore, legend, and ritual prayer is not at all unique to the Cheyenne and Arapaho, but there is a familiarity between birds and humans in the stories of both nations that, generally speaking, seems warmer than the same relationship given in the stories of the Sioux or Pawnee or Cherokee or other nations.

In Falling Star, it is a meadowlark who saves the hero and raises him, and in The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky, it is the buzzard and the hawk, and in both, the birds are presented more as family members, helpers, than as spiritual guides or messengers. Like family members – in theory at least – they may not always be able to save or even help a person, but they are always there to lend what help they may. In Falling Star, the meadowlark is unable to save the maiden but raises her son. In The Girl Who Climbed to the Sky, the buzzard is presented as a friend and helper, but it is not always depicted that way in Native American literature. Vultures are sometimes portrayed as "helpers" who dispose of the dead and clear away waste but, often, are seen as bad omens symbolizing death or disaster.

Continue reading...

[thoughtsaboutshows]

My Fanfic Masterlist!

all fics are on AO3, the names are links!

I have fics for the Empyrean and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina fandoms

Empyrean/Fourth Wing Fics:

List of all my fics below the cut!

Let's Play Pretend: WIP, Explicit, Xaden/Violet Fake Dating AU,

When Bodhi and Ridoc plan their elaborate wedding down in Mexico and inform Violet that her ex is coming, she comes up with a fake boyfriend to avoid dealing with it all. But instead she finds herself in an even bigger mess when she accidentally tells them that she's dating Xaden Riorson, the bane of her existence and someone she has claimed to hate for years. When he accepts her request to play along she's shocked, but he has reasons of his own to go along with the lie. As the week goes on the line between love and hate gets blurred and Violet can't help but forget the reasons she hated him in the first place. And memories of a night from years ago slip back into her mind and remind her of time she didn't hate him...not at all.

Captive's Call: The Curse of the Onyx Storm: WIP, Explicit, Xaden/Violet Pirate AU. Co-authoring with @saranova

Seeking to escape her arranged marriage, Violet Sorrengail finds herself adrift upon the Emerald Seas and within the grasp of disgraced duke-turned-Pirate, Captain Xaden Riorson. And the Captain is always in control, always has a plan, and will do whatever it takes to break the curse that plagues him and his crew ... that is, until he meets a certain Admiral's daughter.

Missed You: WIP, Mature, Xaden/Violet

Missed You: Or little tumblr drabbles/ficlets from an ask about non-sexual intimacy

Because the empyrean crew deserves ALL the soft moments

Not A Victory March: Not Rated, Complete (for now), Xaden/Violet

The immediate aftermath of OS Chapter 66. No one's claiming victory here. Spoilers for Onyx Storm

It's Takeout, Your Honor: Complete, Teen and Up Rating, Xaden/Violet

What happens when you know your partner so you can sense when they’re sad? And what if you have the same idea?

If the Fates Allow, A Solstice Anthology: Complete, Explicit, Xaden/Violet, my gift for another member for the RQ Discord Solstice Exchange

What if battles and wars weren't the only thing archived? Over the years Xaden and Violet recorded what they were doing on Solstice to remember any bright times in the midst of chaos. Originally redacted from the historical text due to be considered "filler" and "unnecessary to include," Jesenia collected them to be its own anthology.

Or, a collection of missing and future scenes with our favorite shadow daddy and lightning wielder as they experience the Solstice.

Say You Won't Let Go: Complete, Mature, Xaden/Violet

Violet hates goodbyes. Especially when she’d rather stay locked in Xaden’s room. And in his bed.

A missing scene in Iron Flame. It sorta kinda works in the timeline so we’re just gonna throw in there as happening sometime after Vi finds out about Xaden’s second signet but before they go back to Basgiath.

I'm Gonna Be: Complete, Mature, Imogen/Garrick

Long distance relationships suck. Especially when Imogen is stationed on one end of the country and her friends are on the other. But it’s Garrick she misses the most.

all that you rely on, and all that you can save: Complete, Explicit, Xaden/Violet

In the late hours of the night Violet studies. She now studies old tomes and history books from Poromiel, anything she can get her hands on really to help save him. She studies alone because there are few they can trust to share his secret. But when Xaden comes home from a week long patrol to find her huddled over a desk in the Archives, he thinks of far better uses for it.

Forgive Me?: Complete, Mature, Xaden/Violet

Xaden's and Violet's stress levels are high, leading to more arguments than they'd like. But what if Violet tries to take a risk that Xaden thinks is too far? How will she win this argument? Or bring him to his knees?

Or the time Violet has a trick up her sleeve to get Xaden to let go of the argument.

Spoilers for IF and FW. Takes place after the end of IF.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina Fics:

Thicker Than Water: WIP/Sort of Abandoned, Mature, Nick/Sabrina

Nick had been Summering in Greendale, NC his whole life. Their big white house on the beach stood as a staple in the Scratch family for generations, a pillar of the family dynasty. A dynasty he wanted no part of, but was forced to take over come September. After avoiding the responsibility for as long as he could, Nick decided to give himself one last Summer in the place that had formed him, memoires both good and bad. But this time he would do it his way, away from the big white house. He had planned for quiet, for solitude, his favorite way to write. But that was before he realized that Sabrina Spellman was back too.

Sabrina Spellman was the mystery he could never figure out. Sabrina Spellman, who ran the Mortuary Grill and whose hair was as white as the sand and smile as bright as the sun. Sabrina Spellman, who didn’t hate the summer vacationers as much as her local peers did. Sabrina Spellman, whose lips tasted like tequila when they brushed his 10 years ago.

Nick wasn’t so certain he’d have a solitary summer anymore, not when the mystery was about to be solved.

Right Where You Left Me: Complete, Mature, Nick/Sabrina

It's the first Solstice after Sabrina was risen from the dead. The first Solstice without Nick. In the midst of her tears and sorrow she accidentally conjures him, which leads to a tradition they do year after year. Every Solstice, for 24 hours, Sabrina can call upon her love Nicholas Scratch and they can be together. Only on this one day a year can they touch each other, and they make it count. In classic Nick and Sabrina fashion each year isn't perfect but it doesn't matter what happens, they'll always love each other.

For Fluffs Sake, Angst-hole: , Complete, Not-Rated, Nick/Sabrina

This is a collection of short writings/scenes from an ask I did on Tumblr for Nabrina!

It used to be all fluff, but now there's some agnsty ones in there too!

Moment to Moment: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Just a few moments in the future, when Nick and Sabrina got everything they'd ever wanted.

Behind the Curtain: Complete, Not rated, Nick/Sabrina

The stuff we didn't see. What went on between what we got. Because there is so much more Nabrina to dive into.

White Christmas: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Sabrina has always loved Christmas and has dreamed of the holidays in Greendale ever since she left five years ago. She didn't know what drew her back this year, but felt like it was time. Little did she know the reason she'd left was back too and completely unavoidable. Nicholas Scratch had once considered Sabrina Spellman the love of his life. And this Christmas he'd be reminded of what he always knew, that dreams took many forms: bookstores, and big cities, and even starlight blondes who he'd loved for half of his life.

Christmas in Greendale: Complete, Not rated, Nick/Sabrina

Daily drabbles from tumblr's Nabrina Winterfest

Illicit Affairs: Complete, Mature, Nick/Sabrina

She had never really meant for it to start. It wasn’t like her, the secret meetings, hushed whispers, and built up lies. But there was something about all of it that dragged her under the current and swept her up that she couldn’t deny or ignore. It was never her intention to start an affair with Nicholas Scratch. Though it was somewhat of an inevitability. From the minute they met, a line in the sand was drawn and they spent the better part of two years trying not to come closer to it. But the magnetic pull between them was undeniable, and soon the line in the sand was just as messed up as their sheets.

She hadn’t planned it, and the second she let her guard down they’d both fallen into a hole they couldn't quite climb out of. She’d been sleeping with Nick for months and talked to him about more things than she never dared to with Harvey.

Harvey.

The high school sweetheart she couldn’t let go. Or rather she couldn’t admit the relationship was failing, because she wasn’t a quitter. But she couldn’t seem to quit Nick either.

A Thousand Words, But You're Worth More: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Sabrina has been stressed. And her lovely warlock boyfriend has taken notice, and decided she needed a night out. So Nick planned the perfect romantic date, with a little help, and doesn't tell her a thing about it.

Or, a one-shot based on a "Sweaters" prompt

Or, a missing scene/my take on when Nick and Sabrina took that picture

Take a Breath, I'm Still Here: Complete, Mature, Nick/Sabrina, Ambrose/Prudence

In the days after the Void nearly ripped Sabrina from her family, they decide to celebrate a late Yule. Nick and Sabrina can't stop touching each other and Prudence and Ambrose finally talk.

Born to Love You: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

***This is a follow up to my one shot Marry Me. If you haven't read that go read it first!!***

So Sabrina left Harvey at the altar for Nick. What now? Tune in for snapshots into Nick and Sabrina's life now that they've admitted their true feelings. What happened after Sabrina left Harvey and ran to Nick? Did they live happily ever after?

This will be a collection of snapshots of this version of Nick and Sabrina. I don't know how often it will be updated, but we will get a look into their life together.

I enjoy writing my fics based on songs, so if a particular song screams this Nick and Sabrina to you please message me on tumblr or comment below and maybe I'll write a scene based on it!

Marry Me: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina, inspired by the song: Marry Me

“No, No, No.” Nick said as he shook his head at Prudence. “Sabrina is my best friend. That’s it.”

“Sure.” Prudence shrugged her shoulders.

When she explained to her brother that they were likely more she had said it as a statement, not an invitation to have a conversation about it. She was entirely annoyed by the Spellman girl, and had found it odd and irritating that she and her brother had been attached at the hip from a young age.

“Besides she’s marrying Kinkle, Prudence.” Nick explained more to himself than to Prudence. His eyes were wild and looking around the room, searching for something to land on. “Not me.”

“Do you want her to?” Prudence asked as she leaned forward. Nick paused, unsure how to answer that question. Nick had been in love with Sabrina Spellman for most of his life. But she was happy with Harvey Kinkle. Prudence rolled her eyes and stood up sighing, and placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. She was rarely affectionate and this was as comforting as she got. “You may want to figure that out.”

Cruel Summer: Complete, Mature, Nick/Sabrina

A mix between AU and Cannon, where the young members of the Church of Night also attend Baxter High. The young witches and warlocks then go to the Unseen Arts Summer Camp to bolster their gifts. Sabrina, having signed her name in the Book of the Beast is to attend for the first time.

Set between two timelines- the present and the summer, Sabrina attends camp for the first time and grows closer to Nick only for them to be torn apart as school starts.

Burning House: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Sabrina hasn't seen him in months but she still sees him everywhere. Nick sees her every night in his dreams. They both know what they want, but won't let the other have it. Not yet. Not when Nick will hardly talk to her and Sabrina used well...THAT candle...

Crash Into Me: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Set after Part 3 and some time after Nick and Sabrina's breakup. Just a little one-shot of a mission they get sent on by Zelda. Tough conversations and some tears...and one bed

i run to you: Complete, Not Rated, Nick/Sabrina

Nick and Sabrina love two things. Research and each other. But their research often takes them to far away places, and far away from the person they love most.

[ecc-poetry]

WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED Elisa Chavez 

1. Do you know how much beauty there is in the world that you didn't create?

2. The whole time, I wanted to put my hands to the screen to stop you coming through. In 2007 while you squirreled away another victim, I met you in San Diego. Asked a question. She and I were both 18 that year,  our hair and skin the same shade and more in common with each other than we'd ever have with you. But of course, I didn't know that. Then.

3. I have read your poems.

Yikes.

If you understand you have failed, and if you pretend not to understand you have also failed. Eating is not sacrifice. Even birds know how to mimic. For years I pretended I had never seen those poems of yours, but I couldn't forget what they taught me:  how little you knew.

4. Some of us are starting to feel like all these stories that gleamed stardust were really bits of ground-up glass you tricked us into swallowing. This is complicated by knowing that watching us swallow ground-up glass would probably get you off. When I cut myself on something in my house, the blood is scarlet. Once I stepped on a pin, saw an inch of it vanish in the meat of my big toe, and all I thought was, "That's got to come out."

5. Other men got to me, of course, which I think is my point: Even at your worst, you are replaceable.

6. In the forest, just past the thorned-over castle where the princess sleeps, there is a woman. Do not rape her. Turn left, where there is another woman. Do not rape her either.

Do not trust the you that breaks the wishbone of no between his fingers and spells success with it. Do not trust the little chorus you raised up from radishes.

Sometimes the act of handing out instructions demonstrates why they will not work.

7. Don't worry. Most of us will outlive you, and then we'll get to tell the story. I'm drafting your eulogy as we speak: It's an anthology  of tricks women learned to survive you,  how they chewed through your paper cages to hold each other, how they are putting out new leaves.

8. I get my mushrooms from the supermarket  or the farmer's stand. I am not a myth about creation. Just like you are mainly a master of holding the truth underwater until it stops moving.

You ghost.

You could strip a thousand women and you still wouldn't have anything.

[kabr0ztrousers]

I would love to a part 2 to 61:Angels & Demons!! Maybe some angels go looking for him and get caught by the hell hounds and they end up forming a demon/hellhound orgy.

Idek I just want more corruption of angels tbh ;)

Kabr0z Writes Episode 150: Search Party

This episode will make more sense if you've read Episode 61

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

I swear I'm gonna update the AO3 eventually!

CWs: dubcon; coercion; corruption; pain; transformation; knotting; oral sex;

A/N: I feel like the CWs for these episodes are starting to get similar... Maybe I need a beta reader to help me catch stuff I don't. Although if any of y'all get a squick you weren't warned about, give me a shout and I can always amend them

###################################

Oriniel was missing. He had been for months, last seen three months ago descending from Heaven. A week later, the beurocracy started to notice his work piling up. An investigation was launched and agents dispatched to Earth to search. Scouring the entirety of creation for a single missing angel would take time though, and you wanted your friend back.

You'd worked with him for the last millennium or so, scouring the fiction sections of the humans libraries, recommending works to one another while waiting for choir practice to start. The other angels were understanding, but put too much faith in their systems. You weren't content to wait for a full search. You knew a faster way, it wasn't strictly permitted, but back channels exist for a reason.

Your first trick was writing a coded message. When you got down there you'd publish it to the internet in a story. The immaculate algorithm would immediately recognise it for what it is and send it to the celestial codebreakers. The story is unimportant, it exists to be decoded, the really vital thing was making sure it took at least a few days to break, and of course the content. Your name, where you're going, who you're meeting, and an instruction: don't look for me.

The flight to Earth was easy. Go down. Listen for a prayer, latch on to it. Follow it in. Someone's always praying for something, it doesn't matter who's praying, what they're asking for, it didn't even matter who they were praying to as long as they weren't trying to call up a demon. What mattered was the intention, the right intention and the prayer's all you need to slip into the mortal realm.

Sure enough you found one, someone praying for a new car to somehow land in their lap. It probably wouldn't be answered, but that didn't matter. You locked onto it, angling your flight down the metaphysical contour, slipping into the human's world a dozen or so miles above what you're pretty sure was Britain.

Always nice when you appear nearby to where you needed to go.

You zoned in on a desanctified church you were familiar with. Far enough from any collection of people that you weren't going to be disturbed. You flew unseen, millions of people lived on this rainy island, and not one of them ever seemed to look up.

The church was quiet, only accessible through a hole in the roof. Ivy grew in through broken windows, mouldering pews scattered the floors. You dragged the furniture, such as it was to one side, taking a couple of slivers of rotting wood as you did.

The ritual to call forth the demon was simple. A thimbleful of mouse blood and the pair of wooden chips, applied with just the right know-how, and you'd done it.

The thinned veil of the church bent, warping under the strain of the ritual, before it snapped altogether, and the demon stepped through the gap.

Silusirex, an augur of some repute. Not above working with angels, despite the aeons long cold war between your peoples. Calling him here was forbidden. If word got out you'd made a deal with him, you'd be demoted. Depending on the deal, that might be lenient.

Silusirex stood before you, examining his nails. He didn't have a face, merely a void where a face would be. If you looked straight into it, you could see the void extended far beyond the back of his head, into unknown space behind him, inky black, filled with stars. His skin was white as white could be, shadows refused to fall on it, though it emitted no light of its own. Instead, where he stood it seemed as though someone had cut a demon-shaped hole in the world, showing the pale nothing behind. His nails were long, and black, his feet bare, a crown of ivory atop his head, held in place by black iron horns growing through gaps strategically drilled in the yellowing bone.

As with so many demons, he didn't wear a stitch. Where you hid your feminine body under a shapeless cassock, not even cinching the waist to display your hips, he left nothing to the imagination. Indeed, the one detail of his torso he chose to draw attention to, the only part of him that didn't blend into the sea of flat, featureless white, was a sheath between his legs.

You found your eyes drawn to that sheath. You knew enough about demons to know you were probably going to become intimately familiar with it soon. An augur can answer a great many questions, but a price is exacted. You stared so long you didn't notice his gaze turn to you

"Why have you summoned me, angel? What would you ask of the Grand Augur of the Ashen Radiant?"

His voice was like a headache, ringing in the back of your skull.

You winced. You'd never felt pain before. It wasn't much fun. Then the pain subsided, and you wanted more

"I have come to find someone" you spoke clearly, putting the unbidden desire from your mind "A missing angel named Oriniel"

Silusirex laughed. You clutched the sides of your head as it thundered through you. Your mouth parted slightly, a trickle of bloody saliva, glittering and golden, dripped from your lower lip.

"I know where the one you seek is, and I will tell you. But you must meet my price, angel, or you will never hear it from me"

You stared into the void of his face, waiting for the pain to subside again. Your heart fluttered. You were anxious. You'd never been anxious before, not about anything. You were protected by the ritual, that much is true. If the price is too great, you'll just leave, let the demon slip back into Hell and be home before anyone's the wiser, with plenty of time before your code hits the beurocracy in order to take it back.

"Name your price, demon"

He smiled. You're not sure how a creature with no mouth smiles, but you know he did "Get on your knees, open your mouth, and don't resist"

You could see the tip of his cock poking out of the sheath. Blood red against white flesh. You swallowed hard, hearing him chuckle as you weighed up your options. You'd heard of angels giving head before and not falling, but you'd also heard about desire. How when it starts, it's hard to stop. How you could end up chasing it and chasing it until before you realised the path you're on it's too late.

The laughter bounced around your head. It hurt. You wanted more. You needed more.

Your knees hit the ground.

Your hands rested on your legs.

Your mouth opened.

He stepped into you.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. It wasn't bad. You'd always expected a cock to smell repulsive, of ammonia and old sweat. This didn't smell like that. There was a hint of something musky, like the smell that clings to someone after a run, and something else you couldn't place, sweet, sharp, savoury, all at once.

The next thing was the size of it. Silusirex's hand was at his crotch, working the length of his member free from the sheath. You watched with awe as it just kept growing in his hand. By the time the knot sprung free, it had gone from being an inch-long nub poking from the end of the sheath to a gross protuberance, well over a foot long and three inches thick in places, the knot even wider than that.

You steeled your resolve. You're here for Oriniel. You balled your hands into fists, gripping the hem of your robe and closed your eyes. You couldn't get the image of it out of your head though, nor could you stop your mouth from watering at the thought of it.

Long-nailed fingers gripped your hair. Only one hand, the other off doing Heavens know what. He pulled you in, sliding himself down your throat.

You gagged. The cock was already at your tonsils, seeping precum into your throat.

You could feel yourself blushing, only imagining how you look right now, a demon's cock not even halfway in your mouth. You couldn't help but picture it, an angel being towered over by a demon, feathery white wings twitching helplessly as she gags on his cock, him guiding her over just the last third. He hasn't even really forced you yet. He could if he wanted to. He could drag you down to his hilt, use your throat like a pussy: a warm, wet hole to fuck, to empty his throbbing, pendulous balls into.

Fuck. Why isn't he?

Your hand leaves your thigh, jumping to the one in your hair. Silusirex's grip loosened for a split second, before you curled his fingers between your thick locks. You took him as deep as you could, to the very edge, after which your body wouldn't let you continue, still holding his hand, guiding him.

"What's this? My my my, the angel wants more?"

Again, the pain in the back of your brain. It focused your mind, made you want it more, harder, every sinew in your body screamed for it.

You nodded.

He pushed.

Your hand wasn't needed any more. You'd altered the deal, and he'd accepted. You could feel him halfway down your throat. You couldn't help it. Your other hand strayed up your thigh. You felt wetness spreading over your crotch. Your fingers touched it. A strum of pleasure raced through you, like someone had plucked the lowest note on a guitar.

You lifted your hand to inspect it. A thin film of silvery liquid strung between your index and middle fingers. You held it up for the demon to see, you're not sure why.

"Why, little angel, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

You moaned when the pain started, your eyes unable to focus. The wetness spreading beneath your clothing.

You nodded.

Silusirex pulled out of your mouth.

You gasped as he pulled you up by the hair, bending you over a pew.

He gathered your cassock in one hand, baring your ass and glinting pussy to him. His cock sat at the entrance to your cunt

"Only if you want it, angel, but I won't be held responsible for what happens next"

You whined for him, reaching backwards to stroke his cock, shifting yourself to tease the tip

"Close enough"

Hands closed around your waist as he pressed his weight into you. You moaned as his cock parted you, your hips working with him, riding him as he fucked you from behind. You could feel his tip knocking on the door of your cervix.

It hurt like hell. Wave after wave of pain flooded you, every grinding press into your cunt made him prod harder. You didn't care.

Your halo squealed above you. Your legs started to shake. Your mouth dropped open. Your hands gripped his.

Then

Release

You squirted when you came. First it was silver, then steel, then iron, then pitch. The screaming metal run over your head shattered, shards sticking into your head. Your skin bubbled and changed, your body becoming softer, more pliable. Sensation filled you as a thousand hyper-sensitive clits grew along the depth of your cunt, each one throbbing as you pushed back upon the demon. Your wings burned to ash, feathers blackening and falling as so much dust.

You were complete.

You wanted more.

You looked back at Silusirex, willing him on. You bucked your hips "fuck me, daddy, and make it hurt"

The demon behind you laughed. You groaned. He pulled your hair, he dug his stilleto-sharp nails into your back. He burned you with magic and slapped your ass. Every new punishment he gave you made you clench and leak around him. Every shock of pain brought you a little closer.

He stuffed his cock the rest of the way into you. You felt it slam into your back wall, forcing through the tiny entrance to your womb. The pain was exquisite, flooding you, making your eyes roll and your head spin.

Then he knotted you.

He was all the way in. His hips kissed yours, over and over again as he tugged the knot out, and slammed it back in. Every thrust stretched your ruined cunt harder. Every time he hit the top of your womb, sending waves of sweet agony through you. More inky-black squirt sprayed from you, soaking both your legs, pooling on the floor.

You collapsed, no longer possessing the energy to prop yourself up.

He knotted you for the last time, cum streaming from him as he held your waist, keeping your hips tight against his as he cooed to you.

He lifted you up, a new demon in the arms of her creator, and carried you to your new home.

He'd tell you of your friend's fate, of course, but that could wait until you woke up

[thesimonkshow]

My theories about Season 3 of The White Lotus (Who dies)

So the newest season The White Lotus premiered a few days ago after being off air for a couple of years & we were immediately plunged into a new era of the show, no Jennifer Coolidge, no vocal trills in the opening and instead of arriving in the aftermath of the seasons murder, we were thrown into the thick of a shootout at the Thailand resort, everything we think we know about the show is thrown clear out the window.

I have a feeling one of the only similarities we are going to get from seasons before (other than Greg) is that we'll be dealing with multiple deaths and I'm going to talk you through who each of the unlucky guests/staff will bite the proverbial bullets.

Out of all the new guests, the Ratcliff family have been the characters who've attracted the most amount of attention, though not for the best of reasons: the Patriarch Tom has gotten himself into shady business dealings which are starting to catch up with him after a journalist called him for an interview about his company, Matriarch Victoria is a heavily sedated mess who doesn't have much of a spine and seems quite judgemental and let's not get started on their offspring!

Saxon, Piper & Lachlan take centre stage in my main theory, I think everyone has cottoned onto the 'Hear No, See No, Speak No' theory in their first shot of the series as each have formed a pose like the money forms in a respective manner. Saxon is mouthy, saying some really icky and weird things during his screen time about other women at the villa including his own sister, however Piper's Hear No and Lachlan's Speak No have not yet played out, but as time passes, they will be shown.

For Piper, I think her Hear No elements will be displayed as she begins to commit to converting to Buddhism (as shown in the weeks ahead trailer), she'll end up shut out her mothers protests but for Lachlan, I think his Speak No moment will be more serious. The indecisive Lachlan is the important piece of this story, he's always stuck between choices: Duke or Cal Tech, Temple or Pool etc. The way the characters are framed from his POV look very much like an angel and devil on the shoulder, he's always trying to appease both sides but eventually he's going to have to land on one overall choice.

'A few days before the show aired, I got a message from a friend who showed me a now deleted tweet about Saxon getting involved with his brother in some sort of satanic sex ritual, which also coincided with the same week I saw someone saying they'd seen six eps of the show in advance, it sounded very Riverdale esque, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. However, after seeing Saxon & Lachlan's interactions in the first episode, especially their bedroom scene, I realised this theory might end up happening, this show despite being an anthology, always has some hallmarks: full frontal in the premiere, a death at the end of the show & one controversial gay sex scene roughly halfway through or so. It wouldn't be a shock if Saxon & Lachlan have this scene this time around.

Something else about these scenes is that someone always watches on, and that brings me to Piper. Something I've noticed in both weeks ahead trailers is that there's a scene with her in the dead of night spotting something & then screaming. I think during this scene, she's going to see them going at it (it's worth noticing in the opening titles there's a painting of some men watching two naked women together, which could be a misdirect which leads to Piper finding Saxon & Lachlan or it could be what it says on the tin and Saxon & Lachlan watch two of the friends having a drunken one night stand). Anyway Piper freaks out and threatens to tell, which leads Saxon to plead with Lachlan to do something and making the most pivotal decision of his life, he tricks Piper into eating food laced with the juices of the Poong-Pong tree that Saxon noticed in the first ep, fatally poisoning his sister & pushes her into the lake. Piper will be the dead guest, the shooting won't be the cause like we all think it will but it could be pivotal later on.

Ultimately the Ratcliff's will end the season two down, Tom wheeled off due to his shady company dealings and Piper in a body bag, Victoria will be despondent, lifting her hand out for Lachlan to stroke like Piper used to, which he accepts, his other hand locked with Saxon's. Lachlan will never speak of what happened in Thailand, Saxon will never comprehend the awful things he's saying, so by Piper overhearing the brothers, she breaks her metaphor and thus pays the price.

As for the other guests/staff going down in the finale, I theorised Greg being shot way before the show came back, but I pushed it out of my mind like with Saxon & Lachlan as it seemed too fan servicy, but now that he is officially back, my theory is back on. I think he is planning on murdering his new girlfriend in a similar manner to how he offed Tonya last season, with the new manager Fabian as his new accomplice after Quentin died. I hope through their secret relationship, we see Greg open up a bit more about their partnership, as I though Arriverdverci lacked a scene of Greg finding out, so this could be the peek into Greg the viewers deserve. Ultimately I think the plan will backfire on both and both will end up catching bullets and while Fabian will die immediately, Greg will be clinging to life when Belinda finds him. The weeks ahead trailers have shown him fixating on her as someone who knows Tonya and when she voices her concerns to Fabian, he brushes her off, which is why I think they're partnered. He tries to get her to help him, but she's worked out what has happened to Tonya and decides instead to take his money so she can start her centre.

As for who is doing the shooting, it won't be a gang of thugs, nor will it be Tom, I think the one pulling the trigger is Gaitok, the hotel worker who has a strong friendship with Mook. Both the generic trailer and weeks ahead trailer have shown him being forced to step up as a security guard following multiple incidents, he mentions to Mook he doesn't want to hurt anyone but she encourages him to commit to his position. I think with him being somewhat privy to Tom's phone calls, he'll work out what's going on and try to detain him, leading to the first shot ringing out, we do know there's time between the first shot and the others, so my guess is Tom will be nicked in the leg or somewhere not fatally as Gaitok stares horrified, he'll panic & in that moment will inadvertently squeeze the trigger, sending more shots out, some of which will hit people either fatally or not.

Ultimately due to the deaths, Gaitok will be used as a scapegoat and Mook will benefit from it as she'll be appointed the new manager to close out the season, as we always go back to the location for the final shot. Sritala might get hit by a bullet but even if she doesn't, I think her experience with Rick will make her take a step back from public life, so Mook takes everything to close us out.

[keystonepublishing]

Sheriff, Rancher, Soulmate: A Solidaritek Anthology

Ignore the title spelling error, please

So remember how I made those three Solidaritek ficbinds? Just as I was finishing them, a little thought whispered in my ear "What if these fics are all together in a thick book? What if you add-in comments and meta and extra stories from Tumblr? And what if you made it all pretty and super extra?"

And from that, I embarked on a month-long quest to create an anthology of Solidaritek fics. With my drive for wanting things to look pretty, I added some new tricks and effects to the book that I normally wouldn't, such as pasting marbled paper (actually wrapping paper - the same ones I used for the past ficbinds) to "divide" the stories as well as making graphic double-spread title pages.

Creating those graphics was one of the more time-consuming parts of the project. It took literal hours of scouring the web to find the right pictures, graphics, and effects that could best fit the vibe of the stories. It took hours more to finesse them all together in Microsoft Word, a program not known for being good with graphic design.

All the three stories are formatted like how I did their individual past binds. But also I added an additional section to this book that took up even more time: the Meta and Comments section.

This was inspired by some of the ficbinds I saw on Tumblr - if fandom is a transformative place created between discussions and insights between fellow fans, then the comments section deserves equal credit in the creation of fan pairings. As such, I archived selected comments from all three fics for how they appreciate the stories, the authors, or how they understood the pairing.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE.

Over the months I lurked in the Solidaritek pairing, I have saved a number of Tumblr ficlets. Given how my earliest intrusive thoughts on this project is to save them from deletion, I decided to put a spin on the binding concept: create an accompanying booklet of Tumblr ficlets and a book cover-pocket to store said booklet.

The ficlets are, in order of printing:

The Canary of Death and his Coal Mine by @fellfromavent

They Have One Bed by @kitspot (sadly deleted)

Jimmy meets his soulmate through death by @percivex

"But do they have to mean that?" by @habeascorpseus

"Good morning Canary," by @silverskye13

Hermitcraft / Empires Reunion by @pixiemage

In all, from formatting the first page of this book till today, the entire production of this took a full month. While I may not engage in such a complex project again for the near-term (or god forbid, do this again), I am still so proud of this book!

[st4rbe0m]

HIGH SCHOOL IN JAKARTA - TEASER

TEASER WC ▸1.1K

PAIRING ▸ jock!older! Yeonjun x reader

SUMMARY ▸ The world is about to end. It's crashing and swooping down around you, because tomorrow is the first day of highschool. Not even the most extreme hyperboles can explain the battlefield that is navigating the next 4 years. Luckily, or unluckily, you have the summer to prepare - and maybe a cute older boy as well to put in his 2 cents of tips and tricks. But does the summer ever last forever?

RELEASE DATE ▸ RELEASED

PART OF "THE ANTHOLOGY" SERIES

The world as you know it is ending. There’s meteors and asteroids crashing down, balls of fire and smoke rapidly descending on your world. The world you’d built since middle school. 

Not the world as we know it, of course. No, the world with its 8 billion population and sprawling cities and countries wasn’t coming to an end - but it was your world, with its own islands and own niches coming down to debris rapidly. 

Your world meant the things you did - it meant how you stayed up all night on school nights to play Minecraft with Soobin and Beomgyu, your two closest friends since childhood. It means the music you listened to. Usually that included whatever preppy tune that used to overtake the charts. The One Direction boys’ perfect harmonies were all the rage of 2014. Justin Bieber had the hearts of young girls by the fist. But that was middle school. That was 2014, which ended a few months ago. 2015 was the incoming year of the new batch of freshmen in their town’s high school. 2015, and there’s new artists and new bands and new games. It’s 2015 and the world you crafted with wide-eyed dreams and glitter pens is over, and the swooping lurch of reality hits you square in the chest just as the summer heat settles over everyone. 

The First Summer - summer before freshman year 

“Soobin, can you pay attention maybe? Fucking hell.” Beomgyu’s loud usually. Beomgyu’s louder when irritated however. And today he decided to be loud, irritated and angry, and the unnecessary screaming match between Soobin and Beomgyu was just the strike of the match of patience you had needed. “Enough!” Seriously, if you’re gonna fight this much, just beat each other up! I’d rather have you both in battle than this silly screaming match.” Your voice is shrill and the annoyance is heavy. Yet, it does nothing to affect the pair. Instead, all they did was give short laughs. “You can’t shout at us like that Y/N '', the pouty eyes and whining tone of Beomgyu softened you up immediately, and you grinned back with a retaliation ready. “Beomgyu, let Soobin text his sweetheart next door, or else he’ll wilt like a plant deprived of sunlight.” The statement leaves the both of you in a fit of giggles the moment the entire sentence left your lips, and left Soobin to be the pouting one this time. “What do you both even know? To be in love with someone?”, the dramatics were oozing off Soobin, the sore subject of his very strong feeling for his next door neighbor making him more susceptible to teasing from you and Beomgyu. “And what do you know? You haven’t confessed either!”, accusatory, as you told him. It would be wonderful, absolutely delightful for Soobin to pull up his big boy pants and finally ask the other girl out. Not only because they’d make a delightful couple, but also because maybe he’d shut up about the qualms of unrequited (which honestly was quite requited if he just stopped being so blind) love. 

“How’s the existential crisis popping along, Y/N? Are we still the lamest duo you could hang out with that will kill your nonexistent street cred?”. Chucking a throw pillow at the boy, you sighed, the dramatics being your concern now. “You guys don’t get it, do you? This is highschool. The real deal. The next four years of people’s cherished memories.” “You want to peak in highschool badly, don’t you?” “Shut up Soobin!”

They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t get how highschool mattered to you. How being 15, then 17, then 18 happens only once in life. You’re young in love as a teenager once, and you’re living life on the cusp only one. Romanticizing highschool was a silly cliche, and you were by no means a daydreaming romantic (Eh, maybe sometimes). But living, to experience, to feel, to love, meant something to you. It meant something to the little girl who watched those romcoms in the darkness of her room on a blue light screen. Watching how wonderful guys fell in love with wonderful girls. Watching how the boy loved the girl regardless of status quo. High School was a lake and you were a small pebble ready to skim its surface with accuracy and precision. 

“Are you Machiavelli or something? Stop making that scheming face, seriously. It’s giving me the creeps I’ll be honest. This just resulted in another pillow to the face.

The summer heat, a slow wave of buzzing energy that rolled over the entire town, made most of its residents lethargic. But lethargy wasn’t an option for 15 year olds, especially 15 year olds in the Y/L/N household. Several nags and a good scolding from her mother had Y/N working at the convenience store two blocks down. A job that Y/N was certain of, might just be the first of its kind in the way it could kill the employee of boredom. “At least you get the AC, Y/N. And us!”. Huening Kai was an absolutely wonderful person. Honestly, there was no way to say anything negative according to Y/N, which made Taehyun roll his eyes often. The two boys would frequent the store often. The first day because Kai was craving an ice pop to battle the heat. But once the pair had seen the pretty girl working the register all by her lonesome, and the boys not having anything interesting to while away their time with, began to visit Y/N on her shifts, eating the almost expired stock and chitchatting. 

Even from the corny sentence Kai had just said, Y/N could only bring herself to frown, but not get annoyed at the sunshine boy. The summer reinvention was in full swing for Y/N. Calling it a reinvention made her uncomfortable sometimes. It was just a few tweaks right? It’s not like she was gonna lose herself completely.  A harmless fine-tuning of the machinery, shinier gears to turn her and a fancier covering. 

Convenient store afternoons were idyll - no customers, and usually no Kai and Taehyun, who’d take the most deep afternoon naps they could take. Today, however, they’d decided to forego the naps, and they hung around the back, to analyze which candy was the best for the summer. 

Y/N’s sitting at the till, bright light shining right through the spotless plexiglass, hair gently swooping over her face, illuminating the strands. There’s a slight breeze from the droning AC that cools whatever sweat was beading her forehead.  A lazy afternoon, light and airy, with the low hanging summer making the world around simmer like a boiling pot. It was this afternoon, that the bell tinkled as the convenience store’s door opened, the sound jingling faintly over the sound of buzzing cicadas and grasshoppers. It was this afternoon, uneventful like the rest, until it wasn’t - that Y/N looked up to meet the eyes of Choi Yeonjun. 

[tough-n-dumb]

weave a lovers' tapestry: an anthology of stand-alone Kanej fics and ficlets

Latest ficlet—chapter 8

a skip in perception

Inej spends an evening watching Kaz perform card tricks. (For @insignificant457)

Excerpt: 

After fumbling with the lock and wiggling the pins for much longer than she would have liked, Inej shoves the window open, finally earning her reprieve from the rain. The attic is cold but blissfully dry.

But the sight she’s greeted with takes her breath away faster than the frigid weather. Kaz is seated at his desk with his shirtsleeves pushed up and hands bare. He shuffles a deck of cards and the way they move between his long, slender fingers is reminiscent of wind in tall grass.

Read on AO3