#but now Tew is committed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chwocolatte · 4 months ago

Text

♪ 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝄞♭♪ . .

yūta okkotsu x reader ﾉ sfw — domestic fluff ﾉ features a sweet doting reader . . (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) ﾉ reader is admiring yūta’s handsum self ( a hundie percent warranted hehe ) ﾉ lottsa lottsa smoochies between reader ‘n yūta . . ﾉ ‘princess’ used as a petname tew refer tew reader ﾉ vrrie yumeshippie coded ‘n self indulgent . .

ohhhh . . . nu words cld ﾉ possibly ﾉ b adequate enough tew describe da sheer gorgeousness of yūta . . i did try m’ vrrie best but .ᐟ .ᐟ he is simply tew beautiful fwor mi tew paint wif jus words alone . . (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ⌑ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝) doesnt he shine sho pwettily ⭐️ .ᐣ

twinkling like a thousand stars, your eyes shine with a brilliance that could rival the cosmos, the universe itself. you are captivated within his gaze, the pools of cerulean that peer into your own. they hold abundant affection, the adoration evident in the way he regards you, the ardour a tangible thing.

gazing upon his visage, it's easy to lose yourself in the ethereal beauty that is his features. they are sharp, chiselled to perfection, a masterpiece of the gods, an effigy carved from marble. how could anyone compare?

yuuta may be considered average to some, but to you, he is a paragon of celestial splendor. he's the epitome of beauty, the pinnacle of perfection. a small pinch of his essence could send the most stoic of individuals into a frenzy, their minds clouded with the fervour that is him.

to put it simply, the young man is an angel in your eyes. an angel in every sense of the word. the term 'beautiful' fails to encapsulate the full extent of his splendor, the magnitude of his radiance and the depth of his ethereality. but it's all you have to describe him, and so you use it anyway, the adjective a pitiful attempt at expressing the immensity of your devotion.

“beautiful…��

the whisper leaves your lips in a reverent breath, and the sound of it causes the young man to flush a lovely shade of red, the tinge rivalling the vermillion hue of a rose. a shy smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and his teeth are a flash of pearly white as he laughs bashfully. the sound is melodious, a symphony of harmonies that reverberates throughout the room, the tune a cacophony of bells and chimes.

the flush reaches the tips of his ears, and the colour bleeds down the column of his neck, the sight reminiscent of a summer sunset. you can't help but reach out, the desire to stroke his flesh an undeniable pull. and so you do. your digits graze the planes of his visage, the contact feather light and delicate, a whisper against his skin. a lean in to your touch, a pause, a deep breath, and then…

he sighs contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut, the lids a curtain that shrouds his irises— twin windows to his soul. he leans further into your palm now, his profile nuzzling your hand, the gesture tender, loving. a silent plea for more.

and who are you to deny him?

mapping out the contours of his face, you commit each feature to memory, snapshots of him immortalised in your mind.

soft like a dream, his complexion is smooth beneath your fingertips, the texture akin to satin, the skin a silken sheet. his lashes are dark and full, a lush canopy of sable strands that fan out prettily, a feathered brushstrokes against his cheeks. they tickle you— oh, but not as much as the faint cupid’s bow that swiftly steals a kiss from your fingers does, a chaste peck that has you giggling like a fool. the sensation is fleeting, yet the effect lingers, leaving the pair of you smiling fondly.

it's a moment so intimate, the pair of you cocooned within a bubble of your own making, the rest of the world fading into obscurity that a part of you wishes to preserve it. to freeze time, to capture this precious fragment of life and etch it into your soul.

simple, yet exquisite, memories such as these are worth their weight in gold. they're treasures, and you want nothing more than to hoard them, to stow them away in the recesses of your mind, a gallery of cherished remembrances.

with a gentleness that speaks volumes of your feelings, your fingers dance until they meet their destination, the pad of your thumb brushing against his plump lower lip.

the flesh is velvety and inviting, and you can't resist the temptation. you give in, and, with a slight nudge, part his lips, your thumb slipping into the crevice, a small breach, before standing on your tippy toes, feet rising to meet him.

the miniscule space between the pair of you closes, and your breaths mingle, the air shared between your bodies, the heat radiating off of his person and seeping into your own. your nose is a hairsbreadth away from his own, the distance almost non-existent. and, in a moment so quiet and fragile, the tension so palpable it could be slit with a knife, you share a breath.

one, two, three… the beats pass in a pregnant pause. then, with a swiftness that belies his previous timidity, yuuta swoops down, taking your mouth into his.

confectionery sweet and sugar coated, the kiss is a concoction of love and longing, a decadent delicacy you can't seem to get enough of. the taste of him is a nectarine bliss, the sensation a pleasure akin to none. so special, so unique, you doubt there could be anything in this world that could compare.

you indulge yourself, drinking your fill, savouring the flavour of your loved one, the ambrosial treat a luxury. it's a sweet surrender, the submission a mutual one, gooey strings of honeyed saliva connecting the pair of you when you pull away, your bodies clearly unwilling to part.

however, the need for air wins out, and you reluctantly withdraw, the loss keenly felt. a whine, high pitched and petulant, escapes your throat— a child's tantrum, albeit an admittedly justified one.

the separation is a temporary one, though, and you're quickly pacified when peppered across your face are a barrage of kisses, the sticky film of his saliva sweeping over your skin as if to paint a picture. his mouth is an artist's brush, the tip dexterous as it dabs a mélange of imaginary pigments upon your features.

the final kiss lands squarely on your nose, a dot. the finishing touch makes the button twitch, the appendage quivering with a tingle, and the sound that leaves you is an amalgamate of laughter and giggles.

the pair of you are a mess, your visages smeared with the evidence of your affections. and, by the heavens, do you love it. the attestation of his infatuation is a badge of honour, the smudgy slaver a token of his regard. you don't dare to wipe it away. rather, you wear it with pride.

who could blame you? surely not him, judging by the grin he sends your way.

so dazzling, the beam is blinding, the brightness of it akin to that of the sun itself. it's a sight you would die a thousand times to behold.

"you really are the most beautiful boy, yuu.." the compliment tumbles from your mouth unbidden, truthful and raw. your words are nothing but an echo of your thoughts, an unconscious murmur of the musings that occupy your headspace.

"not as beautiful as you are, princess.. not even close." his response is immediate, spoken with that simper of his, the curl of his lips so pretty and soft.

in preparation for a protest, your mouth opens, the objection ready on the tip of your tongue, but a single finger to your lips is all it takes to silence you. a pout forms at the contact, the expression a puerile pucker.

"let me love you." the plea is a soft thing. "let me love you like you deserve. let me love you.. like you love me." yuuta repeats, a quiet request. his tone is a beseeching, the desperation written clear as day across his countenance. it's an entreaty that melts the last dregs of resistance left in you.

so, with a nod, you acquiesce.

you hear a suspire of relief, and then you're swept into the arms of a boy so in love, he's willing to do anything to show you just how much. and as you're carried off into the depths of his heart, the place that's reserved only for you, a singular thought occurs: perhaps, just this once, you'll allow him the win.

for a boy as wonderful as him, there's no harm in giving him the upper hand, is there?

248 notes · View notes

lionhanie · 7 months ago

Text

han taesan ; back 2 u (part two)

you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime

this is part two of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!

fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au

...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3

word count: 3.1k

warnings: cursing, alcohol mention/usage, reader is drunk (So is Riwoo), overthinking and insecurity, mentions of fwb/unprotected sex, leehan is lowkey a dick, suggestive comments but nothing too crazy imo

a/n: gongfourz for cover pic bc.... MY MAN IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! also bc they look tew damn fine for me not to use this pic sry

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

Sungho and Riwoo led the way to the house, having been there on countless occasions. The excitement rushing through you is undeniable— It’s not that you aren’t used to going to parties, but you’ve never really had much of a reason to be feeling so…Full of adrenaline. As in, you’ve never had Han Taesan personally invite you to one of his on a random Thursday afternoon.

The scene in front of you is so stereotypically movie-like: Music blaring from speakers placed around the room, air stuffy from the sheer amount of people packed in a small place, concerningly sticky floor from (hopefully) spilled drinks, and the never-ending movement of bodies dancing against each other. The door is opened by a tall man, brunette hair falling almost-too-perfectly in front of his eyes as he greets your friends upon entering.

You’ve never met him personally before, but you recall having him in one of your past classes. Kim Leehan: Taesan’s roommate who ironically shares a similar reputation— a set of unforgettable good looks that’s known to do everything except commit. You feel his gaze follow you up and down as you follow closely behind Sungho, his sharp eyes intimidating you. “Who’s this pretty ‘lil thing you bought with you?” Leehan questions. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

Leehan closes the door behind you as you walk in, placing his arm above your head as he leans in to get a closer look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Surely, you have some idea of who I am if you’re standing in front of me like this.” He winks, waiting for you to respond. Witnessing your interesting first interaction, Riwoo chuckles and pushes Leehan away from you.

“Jeez, Leehan, do you hit on everyone who walks through these doors? You’re gonna scare the poor girl,” Riwoo puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. “This is our dear Y/N!~ Sungho and I are going to be with her the whole night, so don’t try anything weird.” You know Riwoo is only half-joking, especially since the two of you are well aware of his notoriety amongst the other girls on campus, but you’re thankful he designates both himself and his roommate as your party buddies for the night.

“Ah, so this is Y/N… About time you came, then.” Leehan, now a respectable distance away from you, motions over to the alcohol in the corner. “Why don’t you two show her around our humble abode?And get some drinks while you’re at it, 'kay?”

He pushes the three of you in the direction of the kitchen, where people are crowding around for refills to their red solo cups. Sungho hands you a plastic cup, full of a liquid that you can’t exactly tell the color of because of the flickering LED lights above you. Soon after you’ve all finished your first (maybe second… and third…) rounds of drinks, you find yourself being dragged to what looks like the main area for dancing.

Half-empty beverage in hand, you laugh as you dance along to the beat with the comfort of your trusted friends beside you. It was actually… really good music, especially for a college party. In the past, you and your friends have had to leave parties solely because the music was shitty, so you’re happy that isn’t the case tonight. Riwoo finds himself in the middle of the dance circle, absolutely loving the attention he’s currently getting from the people around him. Sungho bursts out laughing at the situation, and you quickly join him as you watch your friend dance.

Just as you bring your drink up to your lips to take another swig from it, you feel a cold pair of hands wrap around your waist. Startled and ready to yell at whoever’s currently invading your personal space, you turn your head to look at who the hands belong to— only to find yourself face to face with one of the few familiar faces in the house tonight. “You came,” Taesan’s breath is hot against your ear, making sure you can hear him amidst all the noise. His hands on your hips pull you closer to his body, and you swear there’s sparks where his skin meets yours. “I knew you would come see me. You look great.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink (or maybe you’re just using that as an excuse), but you boldly wrap your arms around the back of Taesan’s head once you turn around properly, creating an oddly intimate scene between you two as your bodies sway to the music. He’s more than happy to comply, mesmerized at the way you feel against him. “Taesanie…” Your words are slurred as you inch closer to his face, pushing yourself up by your tippy-toes.

“Thought I told you to call me Dongmin,” His tone is playful as he looks down on you, still shorter than him despite your attempts to reach his impressive height. “Something wrong, angel?”

“Mmph, sorry... Dongminie…” Even in your drunken state, you maintain your eye contact with the man in front of you. Taesan suddenly finds himself flustered, shocked that he is the one to break it, looking away momentarily but keeping you steady against him. “Would you be mad if I said I really wanted to kiss you right now?” This isn’t something you’d normally say, but the effects of the alcohol and Taesan’s hands on your body fill you with confidence.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind, but… You’re drunk,” As much as Taesan also really wanted to kiss you, the last thing he’d want is to make any moves on you while you weren’t thinking straight. “Can’t wait ‘til you’re sober?” He sends you a cheeky grin. It’s amazing how he still manages to find a way to maintain his composure to tease you, even after you’d shamelessly confessed your desires.

“I can’t kiss you, Dongmin?” Out of nowhere, you grab his face with your hands, pouting at the denial of your request. “Why not?” Your actions paired with your words make Taesan’s heart race, everyone else around him suddenly vanishing; the only thing he has on his mind is you. He couldn’t tell you how much time has passed at this point, but he can’t stop looking at your lips.

“How much did you have to drink tonight?” His question is genuine and full of concern, once again making you rethink the rumors about him amidst your drunken haze. Something in you doesn’t want to accept the idea that the boy holding you so close is the type of person to break hearts so carelessly.

“I can’t remember,” The hands on his face fall back down to their original place behind the back of his neck as you rest your head on his chest. “I don’t know what you want from me, then.” Your voice is small now, the combination of music and voices from the nearby partygoers making it hard for him to hear you. It felt weird to think that he’d reject the advances of someone coming onto him so strongly. You can’t deny that you’re disappointed, perhaps even slightly hurt, especially after showing up to the party fully expecting to wake up in Han Taesan’s bed the morning after.

All of a sudden, the lights are making your head hurt, it’s feeling entirely too stuffy in there, and the outfit you’re wearing makes you want to rip off your skin. This is ridiculous. Why’re you so upset at being turned down? Now, you’re almost certain it’s the alcohol that’s making you feel this way when you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. Sensing something wrong, Taesan pulls you away from his chest, hand reaching down to your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes widen once he notices your tears threatening to spill, clearly shocked to see your sudden change in mood.

“Hey, hey.. What’s wrong?” You pull your face out of his grasp, hating the vulnerability you’re currently feeling. It’s hard to maneuver away from him with the amount of people surrounding you; Taesan only pulls you closer when you don’t say anything. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, pretty. Don’t want you crying under my watch, now.”

Even in your current state, you feel your heart flutter at his comment. Either Han Taesan is madly in love with you, or this is just his insane charm working its magic. Probably the latter. “Can we go somewhere else?” Your voice shakes as you speak— you're not even sure where you were asking him to go, but you didn’t want to be stuck in the center of the party a second longer. “Just… anywhere? Please?”

Taesan takes your hand in his, using his free arm to shove through the crowd. The grip on your hand is tight; he doesn’t want to lose you. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you’re not in the right mindset to want to question it any further. “Taesan, there you are!” The two of you are forced to stop temporarily after being called out by his roommate. He’s leaning against a wall with a beer in hand and a beautiful woman practically wrapped around his arm. Leehan whistles at Taesan once he notices your interlocked fingers. “Looks like you finally found her. Use protection this time, yeah?” He smirks, making the girl he’s currently with giggle at his side as she peers at the you two, making it feel like she's judging you.

The vulgar implications of Leehan’s comment followed by their snickering makes your face heat up. You feel… Gross. “Not the fucking time.” Taesan pushes past him in annoyance before bringing you to the entrance of what you assume to be his room. The change in environment seems to calm you down immediately. The door closes behind you with a gentle click, drowning out all the noise coming from behind it. It’s significantly cooler there than it was out in the main living area, giving you the chance to breathe properly and actually hear yourself think.

Taesan walks over to the corner of his room to turn on a lamp; a warm glow fills the area and allows you to properly take in its contents. It was obvious now to see that the space was without a doubt his— various band posters pasted haphazardly on the walls, clothes rack organized neatly by the door, and queen-sized bed made to perfection in the middle of the floor. “Uh, you can sit there, if you want. It’s comfier than sitting on the floor or something,” He points to the bed with his eyes, grabbing a bottle of water from the table beside the lamp he’d just turned on.

You trip on your own feet slightly as you walk over to the bed, startling him slightly as he moves to help you sit. A newly-opened bottle of water is placed in your empty hands as you take a seat, which you gratefully take a much-needed drink from. The feeling in the room is awkward as you avoid his eye contact, finding the cute plushie laying on his pillows more interesting than the man in front of you.

You’re playing with the plastic label on the bottle as you hear him clear his throat, prompting you to finally look at him for the first time since entering his room. “Thanks for bringing me here, and uh, the water.” The tension in the room slowly begins to sober you up as you’re the one to break the silence. “Sorry about all this. I think I just got a little overwhelmed out there, that's all.”

“Come on baby, don’t apologize. It’s all good, okay?” There he goes again with the pet names. “If this ever happens again at one of our parties, just find me, and I’ll take you back here." Yeah, if you muster up the courage to show your face at one of these ever again. You don’t think you’re capable of coming back to this house if it means you need to live through that whirlwind of emotions every time. You can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but you don’t care to check it.

1 new message from “Y/N’s bodyguards ♡”! Sungho: where are u Y/N?? party’s pretty much over now

“And disregard what that dumbass said earlier,” He’s talking about Leehan, letting out a frustrated scoff replaying the brief interaction in his head. “I wasn’t, er…” Taesan’s struggling to find an appropriate way to word what he’s trying to say. “...Planning? On doing that with you tonight.”

Your hands fidget in your lap, feeling a bit insecure now. What are you supposed to say to someone who just said they wouldn’t have sex with you? “Oh, uh… Yeah, I get it.” You almost want to laugh out loud to cope with how uncomfortable your conversation currently is.

Taesan notices the discomfort on your face after realizing what his words might imply to you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like… I'd never want to hook up, but…” He’s stumbling over his own words as he rambles on. It’s oddly endearing to see him so flustered, a complete 180 from his usual calm, collected demeanor. “Y/N, I think you’re attractive, like, seriously hot. But shit gets messy when there’s alcohol involved, and I didn’t want to make a move if you didn’t really want to… But I swear I would’ve kissed you right then and there if—”

There’s a knock on the door behind him, and Taesan mentally thanks the universe for saving him from the hole he just dug himself into. “Y/N, are you in there?” Although muffled, you’re quick to recognize Sungho’s voice. “Leehan told us Taesan brought you to his room… So uh, just… Finish up whatever you’re doing and come out when you’re done, I guess?” Your cheeks redden at your friend's suggestive words. Oh god. He definitely thinks Taesan brought you in here to fuck.

Taesan also finds himself embarrassed, even more so than he already was at his poor recovery seconds ago, quickly moving to open the door to reveal your two friends standing behind it. You smile sheepishly at them as you grab your water bottle and make your way towards the door, feeling completely sober at this point. Riwoo and Sungho quickly glance back and forth between you and Taesan, letting out a small breath of relief once seeing that seemingly nothing too bad happened while you were in there.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for leaving you all alone out there!” Riwoo engulfs you in a huge embrace, very obviously still drunk. “I promise, like really pinky promise, I won’t let you out of my sight next time!”

“Alright you big baby, we need to go home.” Sungho pries your mutual friend off of you, patting him on the head once he successfully pulls him away. “You didn’t see any of our texts Y/N?” You send him a confused look, reaching into your pocket to find your phone, only to be greeted with a series of notifications upon unlocking it.

8 unread messages from “Y/N’s bodyguards ♡”! [11:43] Riwoo: Y/N WE LSOT YOU I’M SO SSORRY [11:44] Riwoo: SUNGHO IS YELLIGN AT ME RN FOR MAKING THE DANCE CIRCLE TOO BIG 🙁…. my bad for being TOO good ig… [11:47] Sungho: YES bc Y/N and I got SEPARATED and look where we are NOW [11:47] Sungho: you’re an adult so…. i trust you Y/N [11:50] Sungho: BUT text us if u need anything or if you want to go home [11:51] Sungho: phone is on vibrate, i’ll feel it in my pocket [12:02] Riwoo: YA IAM READY TO LEAVE WHENEVER YOUU ARE OKAY I LVOE YOU Y/NNNNNN BE SAFE [1:35] Sungho: where are u Y/N?? party’s pretty much over now

“Ah… I guess I didn’t notice my phone going off earlier.” It’s only a partial lie, you knew you ignored his most recent message, but the rest of them were sent while you were too preoccupied with grinding back against Han Taesan on the dance floor; It’s only reasonable to think you weren’t going to check your phone then. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention,” Your gaze flickers to Taesan briefly, who’s still holding the door open as you explain to Sungho. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t worry you guys too much.”

“Don’t worry, she was with me.” Taesan unexpectedly chimes in to the conversation from next to you. “As long as Y/N’s okay, right?”

Looking past the doorway, you were shocked to see that the party actually was over. The previously crowded space was close to empty now, only a handful of partygoers lingering around the room. Looks like you lost track of time... How long were you with Taesan? Sungho’s holding Riwoo onto his shoulder as they begin staggering to the front door, you and Taesan trailing closely behind in silence.

The awkward air between you two was short lived, however, as Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms, similar to how you were earlier in the night. Your back is against his chest as he rests his chin atop your head, hugging you from behind. “Sorry for sounding like a douchebag in my room earlier. I really do think you’re gorgeous, though.” He twirls you around, taking your hand in his once more as he walks you to the door.

The brisk air from outside makes you shiver, your arms immediately wrapping around your torso. You didn’t notice how cold it was while the three of you were walking there, the alcohol from the pregame warming you up too much to feel the chill in the first place. Riwoo and Sungho are already a couple feet out the door, bickering over what kind of food they should pick up on the way back to the apartment.

In front of you, Taesan shrugs the jacket he was wearing off his back, placing it around your shoulders. The sweet gesture alone makes you heat up; you’re thankful that even after everything that’s happened between you guys tonight, he’s a gentleman. “Thanks, Dongmin.”

He waves his hand in front of him, as if to tell you it was no big deal. “My clothes look good on you, Y/N.” The hand he places on the side of your face is gentle as he brings your lips to his, giving you a short kiss. “That’s all you get for now. You’ll just have to wait ‘til next time to kiss me properly, hm?”

tags: @minwrlds @luna2nite @taesancore @cherrytaesan @helpsplease @taylorluvation @serejae @dimplewonie @nikiismyhb (send an ask or comment to be added!)

a/n: literally the longest thing i’ve ever written thus far sorry if there’s mistakes LMFAO i’m def editing it after i posted ... AWWWKKKK

149 notes · View notes

waitmyturtles · 1 month ago

Text

The wonderful @clairedaring noted in the comments of my post yesterday about yesterday's Spare Me Your Mercy (episode 2) that the original source material for the show consisted of two Thai Y books that have been condensed into eight episodes within a script.

That very much explains the pacing issues I saw in yesterday's episode, as I noted in my previous post, and further explains what, in part, I felt happened in today's episode 3. This episode was better than yesterday's, but was ::waves index fingers in circles:: A LOT.

Kan and Wasan/Thiu/Tew (I missed his chue len yesterday, thanks iQ) clearly have a history; they clearly were okay with sharing a tent and flirting, and after a night ::AIR QUOTES:: sleeping next to a lush stream, they're boyfs. Ding-dong, okay! Get 'er done.

So there's that; then, rewinding, there's Wasan/Thiu/Tew still not picking up on what he dropped by way of switching seats in the car and allowing nurse Orn to have the meds on her lap while they were driving to the mountain village. Plus, that wild interrogation scene with baby-orphan-turned-playboy-cum-pharmacist (SORRY NOT SORRY) Boss, who, what, whoa, wow, that's a hell of a storyline with the director that came fast (SORRY NOT SORRY). I love how that police officer KNOCKED ON THE DOOR OF THE BATHROOM to try to retrieve his witness/suspect ("Oh, hey! You in there?!"). The show's doing a REAL good job making the police look like bumbling dillholes (ACAB).

Making nurse Orn look CRAZY sus, then sympathetic as she's tending to her fellow villagers, then turning her into the curious and supportive auntie of the boyfriends. Damn!

And this whole night scene where the director's calling both Kan and Wasan/Thiu/Tew to come thru. And the preview indicates more wild stuff brewing, from the director getting kidnapped to Kan and Wasan/Thiu/Tew continuing to flirt while Kan has a literal oozing head wound.

Like I said yesterday, Manner of Death and Triage (SMYM's trilogy-mates) did also start out crazytown. But we had a grip on the material from the start -- we had theories and suspicions in MoD that were toyed and played around with fully, and in Triage, the loops almost immediately began gaining more context without us wondering too much about what was going on. The material of these two previous shows didn't feel as out of order or thrown together as it has felt this week with SMYM's episodes two and three.

The story of SMYM itself has actually gotten interesting. I love what Sammon's stories do with directors and accomplices; Dr. Sak and Dr. Doi from Triage were oozingly and appealingly evil from beginning to end, totally committed to their snakelike work. In SMYM, we now have our noses trained on nurse Orn and the suspicious forensic pathologist, along with the director, Boss, and Kan himself.

But it does still feel like the show and the series are rushing. We're now in a relationship (.... I think, at least nurse Orn used the word "serious," so.). Yesterday, we got an indication of history, and then we get a relationship after a seatbelt trope and a night of camping.

Maybe this show is figuring out what exactly to build on, and it's like the script doesn't exactly know how to prioritize its time. SMYM still has my attention -- it's clearly going to be a gripping story next week -- but I think what's happening that's confusing me by pace is that the show itself is playing a tug-of-war on its commitment to one or another bit. MoD and Triage were great STORIES that wove romance well into their scripts by way of earned paths of building context. We've skipped a lot of those steps this week with SMYM.

#spare me your mercy #spare me your mercy the series #euthanasia the series #torjj #jj krissanapoom #tor thanapob #kan x thiu #sammon

37 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 7 months ago

Text

Bja seems to not get it he's taking over the plan from Trump who hogged it and Trump is going to have reprisals and there's other groups that will try and take over this particular plan and the guy doesn't get it he was dumb people none of this stuff is going to ever iron out it's been who's dicey back then and now that's all it is and we have to help him and our people decision has been made that this internal war will take too long for us to wait and so tell me about the war up and our schedule so granted they want to try and evade but they all do so I'll be competing so it's going on now that we get it and we have some people who are helping we won't take long for it to get out our idea and the full concept we didn't say

Thor Freya

This is excellent he's awake he's alive he's mad and it's not terrific but I do love him and it's my husband tonight hope you get some help tonight really needs it he wants me to as well and those please got wiped out you didn't turn around and they're fighting each other right now thankfully that's what they should do

Hera

We're off to do our work but he's right they shouldn't be trying to run at the planet it's a damn outrage and it's an embarrassment it's humiliating and we think we're going to take it to the council or whatever it is the hey we don't know where to go with it there's no complaint center and he says you take it to the international community anyways a lot of them will be the party's sitter not listening and committing massive sacrilege it is possible that people are telling on them and we need to air that concern but we need to air the concern that you're just seeing it to him because you're steaming hot stupid or being stupid

Michael tew other than telling me I should know what's going on do you have anything to say

No it's time we're doing the job and we're going to stop them from harmless harming us and yeah they're trying to blow up where we are and that makes a difference

Well that was fun

Mac Daddy

Olympus

0 notes

deusfoundry · 1 month ago

Text

waah this is so cute thank u for the tag @lavlynyan !! 🩷

how do you spend your free time?

it honestly depends on what kind of free time i have! if im procrastinating on chores/school work i find myself literally rotting away on my phone. sometimes ill write if inspiration strikes me but most of the times ill do absolutely nothing. if its actual real free time where i dont have to worry about doing something else, i divide my time between writing, playing genshin, and watching anime or movies!

what are your hobbies and how did you get into them?

my main hobbies are writing and playing games! i got into writing when i was 12 and was really into it at the height of the pandemic but i laid low from 2021 bc my insecurities got the best of me SKSKDKSK recently tho ive been able to do it a lot more!! im just hoping ill be able to do it consistently from now on shjrhe

and by playing games i really only mean genshin and lnds lol i first got into genshin when yae miko was first released but i couldnt commit so i dropped it HDJHSHS i picked it back up later that year right before childe and yae miko's rerun banners and became obsessed for a good year and a half. i havent been playing as much recently bc of uni and just my general lack of interest in natlan but i havent dropped it yet bc im really looking forward to snezhnaya and khaenriah

lastly for lnds!!! i just got into it on a whim bc of sylus lolskfleksj

what book or movie left a lasting impression on you?

little women dir. greta gerwig gosh jo and laurie i will always ALWAYS love you and also the dark knight dir. christopher nolan HDJEHJS im SORRY its just tew good HEATH LEDGER MY GOAT 🙇

what kind of music do you enjoy?

my music taste is so basic im sorry i like kpop and mainstream pop artists 😭 as for the songs tho i tend to gravitate towards vocal heavy or softer love songs if u know what i mean like my favorite song of all time is call it what you want by taylor swift hehehjde my favorite artists are olivia rodrigo, red velvet, and lauv!

who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

OK LISTEN i have 3 answers to this IM SORRY but its kageyama, hinata, and luffy!!! its very hard for me to put into words how i feel about them but ill try my best lol i dont talk about luffy or one piece in general as much here but he'll also have a very special place in my heart. him and the straw hats feel like a family i can always come home to and right now theyre just waiting for me to get back into one piece HSHSHS as for kagehina ... they just feel so alive and the bond they share is so mindblowingly special. imagine finding a life long partner in someone who you know will always be there for you even if there's thousands of miles between you ... i yearn for this kind of soulmatism

but to answer who my favorite character is rn, its definitely and very obviously zayne!! everything about him is so healing to me i love him so sooo much my BOYFRIEND my HUSBAND

i loved this sm i love yapping thank yew and tagging u guys!!! no pressure tho ehehehe MWAH @bigclownshoes @cosmorom @zylusmusings @pomegranatepip @nezukoo-channn @leighsartworks216 @hwangintakswifey

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

392 notes · View notes

hawkinsindiana · 4 years ago

Text

this changes things

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER FOUR OF ELEVEN (!!)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.3k

a/n: we’re back to eleven chapters baby!!!! this one ended up being longer than i thought. i know i usually post on friday nights, but i couldn’t help but give you all a lil valentine’s day treat. pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve’s nervous.

It’s down to the wire; there's only a few short weeks left of his final high school semester. Four out of five college applications have been rejected. Each one received has fed the anxiety more and more.

Every day that passes without a lick of news from the remaining university has him reconsidering everything. His education. His career. His future.

The only thing Steve knows about his future is that he wants you in it, in whichever form that might be. You’re the constant. Without you, he’s afraid he’d eventually go back to being that person he was before. You make him want to be better. Trying to be worthy of you gives Steve purpose.

He imagined that getting a college education would help keep him on that path. It seems farther away with each rejection letter he receives.

Steve hasn’t told you that he hasn’t gotten into any so far. He’s afraid of disappointing you, especially after everything you’ve done for him.

The spring of ‘85 has been particularly unforgiving. It’s been storming all week - the air still hangs with that familiar smell of rain soaked concrete. You read that the Hawkins Post reported a record amount of rainfall; the local stream overflowed and flooded a few basements.

The mail is still damp when Steve retrieves it after practice. It sticks to his fingers as he shuffles through each envelope, drying his sneakers on the welcome mat.

And then his eyes linger on one addressed to him; Steve nearly drops his backpack when he sees who sent it.

Haphazardly, he tosses the rest of the mail onto the kitchen counter as he contemplates whether to even open the damn thing. Steve’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Is it an answer he wants?

Whatever the words inside this parcel read, it changes Steve’s life forever. His future is planned from the moment he breaks the seal - there would be no going back. Either he stays here in Hawkins, trapped by an education he neglected for far too long, or he gets to take a step to distance himself from this shitty town and prove his worth.

Steve isn’t a fan of the former option.

He wishes you were here to read it for him. He’d rather you tell him the news; hearing it come from your lips would make it easier.

By the time Steve decides to open it, a few minutes have passed. Why does this feel like the scariest thing he’s ever done?

Due to the water, some of the ink bled through the paper; pieces of the letter are illegible. But at the top, a familiar phrase answers his question: Unfortunately, we regret to inform you-

Steve curses, angrily throwing the envelope and its contents into the trash. He refuses to read anymore.

He has no one to blame but himself. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. There were multiple opportunities for him to change course and put effort into his schoolwork. By the time he finally tried, it was too late.

Thunder booms in the distance once Steve parks his car beside your mother’s. He doesn’t remember deciding to come here; the only thing he can recall is grabbing the keys, without a destination in mind. His heart brought him to your warmth.

As Steve gets out of the car, he wonders if this was maybe a bad idea. It isn’t very often that he feels afraid to face you - he’s scared of your reaction, and the outcome that could follow.

He knew that he could love you, that he could fall just as hard as you did for him. But admitting it to himself, and then you - he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it again. That phrase has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that Steve hopes he can wash away. Because you deserve to hear it too.

Maybe he’s closer to saying it than he thought, perhaps that’s why he’s so scared to tell you. Maybe-

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dustin’s voice startles Steve, who turns to see the boy walking his bike up the driveway. Steve fumbles his response, head spinning with thoughts about you, “I don’t, uh-”

Dustin interrupts him, not noticing the nerves Steve displays, “Hey, you should come in! It’s mac ‘n cheese night.”

Steve hangs his head in defeat, knowing that he’s going to follow your brother inside. He can’t say no to this kid.

Dustin hangs up his raincoat once the pair of them enter the house; the bell on Tews’ collar jingles as they run to greet the boys. The kitten weaves between Steve’s legs before he kneels down to give them a few pets.

“That you, Dusty?” Your mother calls from within; clattering silverware echoes from the kitchen. Steve chuckles at the nickname. Dustin punches him in the bicep.

He kicks off his shoes as he replies, “Hey Mom! Get out another bowl - look who I found loitering around.”

Steve scoffs, shoving Dustin as they walk forward through the threshold into the living room. Your mom moves to welcome them; her warm smile widens when she sees Steve by her son’s side, “Well look who it is! Steve, sweetheart, how are you?”

He’s baffled by her every time he shares a meal with your family. Her kind soul is infectious, and drastically different from the parents he was raised by. Steve tries not to think about the fact her beloved pet is secretly buried out back - he’s reminded of it whenever he sees her.

“I’m good, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” Steve answers, returning her grin. She envelops him in a quick hug, “How many times am I going to have to tell you? Just call me Claudia, hon.”

Steve laughs along with her as he follows her to the kitchen, “I think you’ll need to remind me one more time.”

And then his eyes meet yours from across the room. They smile nearly as much as your lips at the sight of him; your heart flutters at this unexpected surprise.

When you catch onto the sadness in his expression, the corners of your mouth drop. It’s obvious to you that something’s wrong. Steve doesn’t usually stop by without an invitation; something must’ve happened.

Throughout dinner, you take mental notes on his deflated behavior. It’s subtle enough to fool your family, but you know him better. With each minute that passes, the more anxious you become to hear the cause. So when he volunteers to help you with the dishes, as he always does, you know it’s only a matter of time.

“How was practice?” You ask before drying off a cup. Steve takes it from your hand as he replies, “Uh, it was good. Although it’s annoying that we’re still practicing even though the season’s over.”

You hum in agreement as he places the glass on the shelf. Steve glances back at you briefly, “What about you? What’d you get up to?”

A beat passes - you’re looking for the words to describe your afternoon. Maybe not the words, but the courage. It’s only when he turns around, brow creased, do you answer him.

“I studied at Nancy’s,” You say. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

You nod your head, focusing your gaze onto the floor, “It was nice, actually. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“Now when you say studying…” He trails off for a moment as he thinks, “You two didn’t… exchange notes about me or anything, did you?”

Steve’s growing smirk makes you laugh; you hit him playfully with the towel, “No! And I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A part of him can’t help but be relieved. There’s no limit to what you two could chat about.

“We just ended up talking about college most of the time,” You add, “She wanted to know some tips since she’ll be applying soon.”

Steve grabs a plate to dry; in order to try and quell his anxiety, he has to do something productive. But your mind recognizes it as a distraction - you’re no stranger to coping mechanisms.

“Have you figured out where you’re gonna go yet?” He questions, praying your answer isn’t far; lightning flashes outside the kitchen window, followed closely by the low rumble of thunder.

You sigh as you lean back against the counter, “I’m not sure. Nancy was helping me talk through my options earlier, but it’s such a big decision to make. I wanna make sure it’s the right fit.”

Steve nods slightly, forehead creasing as he wipes his hands on the towel. And by the way he clenches his jaw at your reply, you know that this is the source of contention.

You nudge his leg with your foot, “What about you? Get any responses back?”

The breath hitches in Steve’s throat; there’s no way this conversation doesn’t end with his reveal. The longer it takes for him to speak, the more concerned you grow.

“I, uh-“ A sigh passes his lips as he grips the counter, keeping his focus away from you. He doesn’t want to witness your reaction.

“I didn’t get in,” Steve mutters. He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief; until now, it almost didn’t seem real. It took admitting it to you for his brain to accept it.

You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. Over the past few weeks, you and Steve had been discussing how your relationship would persist once you both had made your college commitments. This wasn’t an outcome either of you prepared for.

“Holy shit, Steve. I’m sorry…” You whisper. Steve pushes his face into his hands; his voice is muffled from behind his palms, “Yeah, yeah… holy shit.”

You don’t hesitate any more to comfort him. Steve straightens as you place your hands on his arms; he melts into your touch, unable to prevent you from turning his body to face yours.

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” You reassure him, “College isn’t the only option, you know. There are other things you could do.”

The expression on Steve’s face breaks your heart. You’d do anything to wipe it away and brighten his mood. But Steve just sighs again, appreciating your efforts to help him, but nothing seems to be working.

“How’d your parents react?” You ask. The only thing keeping Steve grounded to this moment is the firm grip you have on his shoulders; he thinks he’d float away without it.

He scoffs a bit; the sound breaks the deafening silence that formed as he thought of a response. His eyes are still focused downwards as he finally answers you, “They don’t know yet. I just got the last letter today. I couldn’t think of going anywhere else.”

When your fingers brush against his cheek, Steve instinctively moves his hands to rest on your waist, “I’m sorry, I just-”

Steve finally lifts his head. Your eyes are wide, pupils filled to the brim with nothing but your fondness for him. All of a sudden, he’s confused why he was so scared to tell you. He realizes that he never should’ve doubted you.

“I was scared this would change things. Or that you’d be disappointed in me or some shit.”

Your brow furrows as you laugh softly - baffled by his words, “What could ever make you think that I’d be disappointed in you?”

A flash of previous memories answers your own question. You decide not to pull on that thread anymore.

“This changes things,” You mutter. Your eyeline drops as you pause, choosing your words carefully before continuing, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Finally, Steve feels a bit of relief. The sincerity in your voice calms the fear, and a deep exhale allows him to let it go. Your compassion and understanding permits him to begin thinking clearly again. He knew there was a reason he came here.

You’re right though. This does change how you both navigate the future. But with you here to support him, Steve figures he’ll be just fine.

“I mean…” The corner of your mouth curls up at the thought that pops into your head, “The only way my opinion of you changes is if you killed my brother or something like that.”

Steve chuckles slightly, “But Mike’s still fair game?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” You quip, “He’s had it comin’ for a while.”

Even though your voices are hushed, the joke still makes you crack a pair of brilliant smiles; it almost makes Steve forget about his future for a moment. Standing here in your arms, Steve can’t help but realize how safe he feels.

And then you sigh, reaching up to brush back a lock of his brunette hair - the sensation of your touch fills Steve with something new, something different. A direct contrast to the violent storm brewing outside, this is soft, warm, and golden. Like daylight.

Your eyes meet again. Honestly, he’s not sure he ever wants to look at anything else.

Your hand lands on his chest, “This doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Steve throws caution to the wind - he kisses you. And already, you can tell that this is one you’ll remember. His lips are soft against yours, but without sacrificing an ounce of passion. You almost forget that someone could walk in and expose your relationship; when Steve finally pulls away, it doesn’t matter anyways.

As if you weren’t left breathless enough from his kiss, the words he mutters afterwards could’ve done it themselves.

With one of his trademark smirks plastered across his face, Steve moves to hold your head between his palms, “Fuck, I love you.”

You kiss him again so quickly that you both didn’t have enough time to wipe the twinkling grins from your lips. Your noses are squished against each other, but neither of you cares enough. Your shared love dulls the pain.

Steve smiles into the kiss even further. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

— taglist: @djjarin / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #st fic #st imagine #steve harrington x you #my writing #almost paradise

359 notes · View notes

platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

Text

Popsicles

Harringrove April day 17, Popsicles. Tews commits crimes, and Steve and Billy work some things out because of them.

It started the day Dustin’s cat was convicted of theft.

They held a trial, with Mrs. Henderson crying on the couch, Mike arguing for the prosecution, Lucas for the defense, and Max as the expert witness, pointing out that a wedding ring was much too large to fit into the mouth of a small cat.

Will presided over the trial and declared her guilty, on the grounds that she had been the one to smack it around the counter when Mrs. Henderson sat it next to the sink while she fixed a leak in the pipes. It took her all day, and the handles turned the wrong way now, but the sink worked again, and in her triumph, she’d gone to take a shower.

Tews had given in to temptation and the call of the One Ring, and leaped up to pat it into, they all suspected, the Mount Doom of the kitchen, the crack between the counter and the stove. Dustin was also sentenced, as the one who had seen a small cat succumb to the call of Sauron, and done nothing to save her from his influence.

They’d all tried to pull it out for hours, with coathangers, the mop handle, and even the feather duster, with no success, and Tews had compounded her crimes by pouncing on all their weaponry. El tried last, glowering into the depths, but no ring had emerged.

Tews was convicted of grand feline theft for stealing Sauron’s one ring, which they assessed at over one thousand dollars.

“It’s not as though Sauron made more,” Mike pointed out, and Will nodded, his lips thinning grimly. “And it says here,” Mike said, hefting the law book he’d snagged from the library, “—that burglarizing someone’s house while they’re home heightens the offense.”

“She also tried to pretend she was actually playing with a potato chip,” Dustin sighed. “Wasting the investigation’s time, and perverting the course of justice.”

“And jumped on my head,” Will pointed out.

“Assaulting a respected and valued member of the court,” Mike said.

“Tews,” Dustin sighed, holding her up. “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.” She squirmed, meowing, and batted at his nose, and Lucas grimaced.

“Harsh, man,” he said.

“I’m gonna have to say guilty,” Will said, shaking his head.

“Let’s go light on the sentencing, though,” said Max, distracting the defendant with a piece of string. “—you don’t want her coming out a more hardened criminal than she went in.”

“She’s showing no remorse,” Mike said, as Tews wriggled on the carpet, batting at their pant legs. “I recommend house arrest to the jury.” He picked her up and presented her to El. “Don’t let pity sway you,” he said. “If some innocent creature finds the One Ring where it fell, their heart will be darkened.”

“She played with powers she did not understand,” Dustin agreed.

El blinked at them, and then at Tews, dangling resignedly from Mike’s hands. “Uh,” she said.

In the kitchen, a trickle from Mrs. Henderson’s homemade popsicles ran from the freezer down into the fridge.

A week later, Billy walked in and slid his arms around Steve’s waist while Steve was brushing his teeth. In the mirror, he had a weird look on his face. “...Harrington,” he muttered.

“F’meah?” Steve asked, his mouth full of toothpaste, and Billy raised his eyebrows.

“...just ate a popsicle…” he said, dragging it out, like Steve was supposed to make something of that.

“Hngmm?” he asked, intelligently.

“From the freezer,” Billy said, widening his eyes further, like that was helpful info.

Steve spit, and rinsed his mouth. “That’s where we keep ‘em,” he said, staring back, because he could be just as unhelpful, if he tried. He’d learned from the best.

Billy turned his head, groaning against Steve’s neck. Billy’s face was red, Steve realized, and he turned in Billy’s arms—narrowly avoiding elbowing him in the face—and gave him a kiss—minty from his toothpaste, and cherry-flavored, because Billy’s lips and tongue were still red from Mrs. Henderson’s homemade popsicles. Billy’s face was hot against Steve’s hands, and he was a little shaky, his eyes shiny and teary, and Steve wiped a thumb under Billy’s thick lashes.

Billy wrapped his arms around Steve’s ribs and hauled him out of the bathroom, tossing him on the bed, and sat on his chest, glowering down. “Why’re you playing innocent about this,” he hissed, grabbing Steve’s hands. “I ate a fucking popsicle, okay, it’s hot here at fucking eight o’clock in the morning.”

There was a different kind of heat on Steve’s mind, with Billy’s weight on his ribcage, and Billy’s chest and face filling Steve’s vision, but he cleared his throat, opening his mouth, as Billy whipped a wedding ring out of nowhere and waved it in his face.

“...you want to get married,” Steve whispered, his face heating as fast as Billy’s, like the blood tap in his chest had been turned entirely to ‘hot’. “Y-you want to marry me?”

“We can’t just walk into a church—” Billy growled, his fingers tightening on Steve’s wrists, and Steve started giggling, smiling so wide his face hurt.

“You want to, though,” he breathed.

“...I don’t wanna walk into a fucking church,” Billy groaned, letting Steve reach up and touch his face. “Rent some...shitty tux. Make invitations.”

“But you do wanna be married to me,” Steve told him, beaming. “You want me wearing your ring. You want everybody to know I’m yours.”

“Fuck yeah I want that,” Billy said softly, sighing. “Too bad we can’t have—”

“I can wear a ring,” Steve pointed out. “We can have a party. We can—we can make Hopper say vows.”

“...I’m just picturing it like him saying grace, that time,” Billy said, grimacing, and Steve burst into snickers.

“Good men, nice bed, well done, be wed,” he offered, and Billy cracked up, leaning in to kiss him, softly, and then lie on top of him, sighing. He was hot, and suddenly Steve wanted a popsicle, so he kissed Billy again, tasting the cherry on his lips. “...I want a popsicle too,” he realized. “For breakfast.”

“...anything more we’re gonna find in there?” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t shift, so instead of getting up, Steve ran his fingers over Billy’s side, and then squeezed him, at the thought that Billy Hargrove wanted to marry him. It was weird, and Steve couldn’t help snickering again, and kissing Billy’s hair. “...didn’t even know we had a popsicle making...thing,” Billy mumbled, squirming even though he couldn’t get closer. “...they’re pretty good, though. You’re such a freak, jesus.”

Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and considered his sudden memory of Dustin bringing over a casserole, and the bag of homemade popsicles. He remembered, additionally, Dustin saying they’d held a trial for his cat, and started laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

When Billy could get Steve to speak in sentences again, instead of gasping, he stared. “You—you’re saying…” he said, clenching the wedding ring in a white-knuckled hand.

“We have to give it back,” Steve told him, kissing his face. “We’ll get one that fits you, babe. We’ll go pick it out.”

“I thought you were asking me,” Billy said, his shoulder blades hitting the wall as he backed away. “I—I thought—”

“I’ve wanted to, I would’ve,” Steve lied, remorselessly, because he hadn’t thought Billy had the same dumb fantasies he did, and he wouldn’t have asked, for fear of Billy laughing him off. “I want to, I do, we’ll—look,” he said, setting his shoulders. “I’ll take off work. We’ll go today, and give Dustin’s mom her ring back on the way home.”

“Make an honest man of me, Harrington,” Billy said, smirking over at him, but he didn’t let go of the ring he’d found in his popsicle until he had another one sized for his finger, and Steve had pulled the car over, and slid it on Billy’s hand with an accompanying kiss.

“Think it’d take more than this,” Steve said, as Billy slid Steve’s onto his finger.

“...we coulda got cockrings instead,” Billy whispered against Steve’s lips, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, but if the idea is you want the bank teller to know I’m yours, d’you really want me arrested?”

Tews was cleared of grand feline theft, though not of the various cat crimes of jumping on the head of the judge, and interfering with an active investigation. Dustin apologized to her, though, and gave her most of a can of tuna, after running back to his mom’s room with the ring.

“It was my mother’s,” she said, when she came out to feed them more popsicles. Steve and Billy eyed each other over them, holding them up to the light to survey for more valuables, or spiders, possibly, Steve thought. He half expected to find a LEGO man fighting a toy dragon, but all he could see was red, so he bit carefully, and looked up to see Billy watching his mouth, and swallowing.

“We’ll get on planning you a ceremony right away,” Dustin told Steve and Billy, his eyes on their matching rings, and they shook their heads rapidly, but Dustin stood, waving his fist at the sky. “Lord of the Rings themed!”

Steve threw a piece of tuna to make Tews climb up Dustin’s leg, and they escaped.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

#Harringrove #Harringrove April #Cat crimes #Harringrove smooches

34 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

A/n: HAPPY [belated] 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 DAY!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ huzzah

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Wait, how do you know he'll go to his room?" Max whispered.

The six kids stand shoulder to shoulder, their backs glued to the wall of the dining room behind the lounge. There they stood, tucked away just out of sight until their target could make it to the other end of the house.

"My mom's gonna tell him to unpack, she's in on it." Y/n explains quickly in hushed tones, packing in closer towards Max so as not to be seen. "Now shh, I think they're nearly at the-"

BAM

The sound of the front door being thrown open was enough to make everyone jump.

"Dustin!" Mrs. Henderson scolds from the other room. "Easy, will you? What if Tews had been standing there?"

Eyes jump around the room at one another, sly smirks growing on everyone's faces when they heard the commotion. By the sounds of it, their plan had worked and Dustin suspected nothing. Will relaxed only slightly when he heard his friend's voice from the other room. And it was only when he began to imagine the look on Dustin's face as he was saying these things that made Will giggle to himself.

"Sorry, sorry," Dustin says half-heartedly.

Y/n wraps a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to hide an infectious laugh that they all eventually catch at his whine.

Sure enough, they each perk upon hearing the sound of his stomps as he makes his way down the hall in a pout. It is then five pairs of eyes lay steadily on Y/n, waiting anxiously for her next move as she stands at the very corner of the wall. Her head cautiously peeks around the corner with a level of stealth and commitment they couldn't help but admire. Several moments pass before she beckons the party with one lightning fast gesture and they all shuffle back around the corner and back into the living room under her tactful lead.

Once again they find themselves packed in against a wall, Will even finds himself glued to the brick of the fireplace that prods his spine in fear of being seen, but he stays quiet. Itching to use her abilities, Y/n's eyes land on her mother who still lingers by the front door, purse hanging from her elbow. Y/n's friends all follow her gaze to see Mrs. Henderson collecting her keys and reaching for the doorknob.

She smiled at her daughter and her friends and began talking in a not so quiet whisper.

"I'm running late for my appointment-"

Y/n shook her head frantically from beside Max, eyes wide as her arms began waving desperately to quiet her mother as they all were doing. Claudia giggled to herself quietly, eyes going wide as she realized her blunder and mouthed a 'sorry'.

"Hey, Dusty-!" She called, eyes still saying trained merrily on the kids she was in cahoots with.

"...yeah?"

"I'm sorry I can't stay sweetie, but I'm running late. I'll be back by three. I love you! Glad you're home, and say hi to Tews, okay? She missed you!"

The sigh that left Dustin was powerful enough to be heard from the front room, eliciting even more hushed laughter among the group. Though Claudia failed to see, that for the kids, their laughter was more nervous than anything as they silently plead for her to leave in fear of her giving them away.

"Okay, love you too!"

Mrs. Henderson turned back to the lot and winked, pulling open the front door and continued to whisper to them with a blissful ignorance.

"Mac 'n Cheese is in the fridge if anybody wants some." She turned her attention towards Y/n, who looked as if she was ready to melt into the floor. "I love you Pumpkin, have fun."

And with that, Claudia disappeared outside, leaving the party—save for Y/n—with the impossible challenge of not giving themselves away. Lucas was biting his knuckles to keep from laughing, Max was giggling breathlessly into his arm and El and Mike were having just as much luck keeping quiet. Y/n buried her face in her hands and it was a bit easier for Will to swallow his laughter.

Eventually, the moment passed. Just in time too, as the worst of the laughter subsided, the group of friends could barely make out the sound of Dustin talking to himself. Yurtle, they realize, he must be talking to Yurtle.

"At least someone's happy I'm home," he said somberly, and the six of us all shared mischievous smiles. "My own sister isn't even here. She's probably sucking face with Byers somewhere," he sighed.

Y/n's cheeks burned and her jaw dropped. It was the others’ turn to stifle giggles and she looked around shocked and frankly, quite annoyed. Will, of course was the only exception, to which the poor boy’s face could rival a beet. In fact, all he could find himself doing was looking to everyone wide eyed shaking his head, as if to defend his himself and his whereabouts in that very moment. This only made everyone laugh more, and in that instant Will could feel the blush in his cheeks spreading and stinging down his neck and shoulders.

Y/n didn't appreciate that comment much either, and her embarrassment had a very different outlet they quickly found; she looked ready to pounce after Dustin but luckily Max had caught her and held her back. Not without pulling her hands away in a hiss, shaking them out a little. Y/n grumbled something to her, what Will assumed to be a 'sorry' and everyone else knew at once her powers had unintentionally stung Max.

In moments, the air falls silent as the opportunity presents itself. And for the second time in several moments, the party of Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, and El Hopper look down the line expectantly at their seventh member, Y/n Henderson as they wait for her signal. She met their gaze individually before taking a quick breath and closing her eyes. They all watch—Will especially who was completely transfixed—as several waves of heat seeped out of her in steady bursts. Each of them felt warm bursts on their skin almost instantly that kissed the air and moved anything it and everything it could—including Max's hair, prompting the girl to bunch it up over her shoulder. She seemed equally as amazed as everyone else was; watching the room carefully as Y/n's powers slowly and carefully took over the house.

Little things started to move; first the books on the bookshelves just over their heads had started to scrape loudly against the wood. The iron tongs by Will's feet began to rattle loudly, a steady clang that Dustin was sure to hear. Then they all felt it. The shake in the ground that one could barely make out if they tried hard enough.

Will found himself smiling so hard it hurt.

Y/n's was getting better at controlling it, and Will couldn't be more proud. Or in awe.

"What the...?"

On cue, everyone aside from the Henderson girl all looked over at El at the other end of the line, opposite Y/n. Her eyes were already closed and that's when the first beeps and whirs coming from Dustin's room could be heard. Mike recognized a few; like R2D2 and the cymbals from that creepy Jolly Chimp he despised but most of them just seemed like garbled voice boxes. And they could all still feel the rumble in their feet and that's when Will looked back at Y/n.

Veins beneath her skin were starting to show themselves around her lips and eyes from what he could see, but they weren't nearly as visible as they used to be. His eye contact on her was stolen away by Lucas who instantly shared the same thought, the two of them grinning and biting back laughs when he heard Dustin getting closer.

"It's just a dream." He told himself. "You're dreaming."

The rumbling grew more intense, her hold on the world beneath her began to spread past her property without her knowing and everyone was shocked to hear a car alarm go off in the neighbors driveway. Y/n's eyes ripped open, but the shaking continued with few faltering moments. Carefully and with her back glued to the brick wall of the fireplace, she poked her head around the corner only to jump back. She sent everyone a reassuring nod, her eyes zoning into a spot across the room as she kept her focus. With an iron grip on reality that she clung desperately to, Y/n slowly but surely reeled in her grip on the world around her, trying her best to keep it tethered to the boundaries she had mentally built to keep her powers contained.

A skill she was still learning how to hone in the past few months. Something she quickly found with her powers, and her potential, and how closely they resembled a dam. A dam once broken, was hard to rebuild and her safety relied on keeping her powers from spilling.

Only moments had passed, and so it would appear to Y/n, she was the only one to notice her small panic. But time marched on and so did the plan.

"Now!" Mike whispered.

In perfect sync, Y/n and El both stopped and so did the commotion they had caused. The room had stopped shaking and the toys had stopped making noise. Will sent a quick glance Y/n's way; she looked winded but more excited than anything which relived him greatly. He would have had to have been to dead to miss her panic, and he was glad she had powered through.

Silently as a mouse, she motioned the party to follow her and they all complied, as light on our feet as possible.

Lucas handed Y/n a corner of the banner as the party entered the lounge, the six friends creeping on their toes. Just as they all had hoped, Dustin was bent down in the carpet investigating the army of toys El had commanded, a display they welcomed eagerly enough that they completely glossed over the can of hairspray in Dustin's left hand.

Y/n brought her party blower up to her mouth as they all did, and Max silently counted down from three as Dustin stood to his feet.

Three...

Two...

And-

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Y/n jumped back and stumbled into Will's arms as she covered her ears, dropping the banner in the process. Reflexively, Will hugged her tight to his chest as his arms encapsulated her, pulling himself and her both away from Dustin's line of fire with his eyes squeezed shut. Dustin was still screaming and so was Lucas, eardrums were bursting and Max had to intervene to pull Dustin out of shock and to Lucas's aid.

Poor Lucas was still screaming as he clutched his eyes, now collapsed to his knees on the carpet. Y/n, Will, and Max rushed over, Y/n dropping to her knees to help as everyone looked up at Dustin gawking.

"Dustin! What the hell?"

Dustin was still in shock, looking back and forth between the banner, the can in his hand and Lucas. Y/n manages to stop Lucas's screaming and wipes the most aggressive pools of hairspray from around his eyes and his eyebrows with her thumbs to keep any more from getting in. She winces as he panics and tries her best to calm him down. Weakly, he tries to bat away her hands but none of it works.

"Don't do-! OW, OW OW! You're rubbing it in!" He cries.

"No, I'm not! I'm not touching your eyes! I'm cleaning your- STOP MOVING! More will get in if I don't get it off your forehead!"

"No, it won't-aaahhh!"

"You'll need to flush your eyes,"

Lucas immediately freezes, all efforts to bat her away halt but his eyes remain screwed shut and watering profusely. To the best of his ability, he gives her a stern look, not realizing he is missing Y/n completely and glaring at the tempered glass window behind her.

"Uh, no way."

Y/n looks up at Max, and without saying a word, Max Nods. Stepping forward, she hooks her arm under Lucas's shoulder pulling him up to his feet and drags him away around the corner, Lucas protesting the whole way.

As they do, all remaining attention turns to Dustin, expressionless. Y/n stands up and rips the can out of his hand, sending him a glare before looking at it. A funny look crosses her face and she looks back at him, any trace of anger lost in amusement.

"Why do you have Farrah-"

Dustin's eyes widen in a panic and he rips the can from her hand before she can finish.

"Thank you guys so much for the surprise!" He laughs nervously. "That was, uh- you guys, eh, you guys got me. Yeah. That was good. That was cool. Hey, SORRY ABOUT THAT LUCAS! MY BAD!"

He takes off for the kitchen, calling after Lucas leaving Will, Y/n, Mike and El in confusion. A knowing look flashes across Y/n's face as she crosses her arms and she calls out to him before Dustin can disappear around the corner.

"Speaking of," her voice full of mischief when she connects the dots. "Steve says hi~!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A stubborn summer breeze swept through downtown Hawkins, bringing with it several dried up leaves that still lingered from autumn as well as the occasional rogue flyer and yet this was the most populated it had been in weeks. All that was missing from the desolate wasteland of a scene was a tumbleweed strolling down the road.

Joyce Byers stood alone in the window of Melvald's as she strung up what seemed to be the hundredth variation of the store's discount sale sign as she stood atop a small step ladder. The radio spilled a soft tune into the store, no one else was around to hear it so Joyce didn't feel so bad about turning it up.

The store's bell rang much to her surprise, bringing her attention to the door. She found herself smiling a little at who stood in the entrance and she muttered a soft greeting.

"Hey," Hopper said, fidgeting with his hat. "You busy?"

Joyce secured the tie on the banner and her shoulders slacked in shrug. "You're our first customer, so..."

Hopper can't seem to meet her eye, the pit in his stomach as stubborn as the unsettling image of the previous night playing over in his head that twisted his gut. He doesn't have to say anything for Joyce to understand his dilemma. She doesn't bother to hide her exasperation with him either and she cocks her head and gives him an unimpressed look as she scoffs.

"What now?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And then El, she just... slams the door. Right in my face."

Hopper sits on an semi empty shelf, hands wrung together as he scowls at the pack of markers across the isle from him. Joyce casts a glance at him every now and then to show she's listening as she continues to work, not at all surprised by what she is hearing. Or why Hopper is mad. Yet still, she hardly bothers to show enthusiasm as she marks the price on her third package of Pro-Yo Yo-Yo's.

"Uh-huh," she mumbles, allowing Hopper to continue his rant.

"You know, it is that smug son of a bitch, Mike." He seethes, his bushy scowl never leaving his thousand yard stare. "He's corrupting her, I'm telling you."

The man is too upset and in his own head to notice Joyce make a small face at the accusation.

"And I'm just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce."

"Just take it down, Hopper," she eases, crossing over into the next isle.

"I need for them to break up." He declares suddenly, not unlike that of a pouting child.

"That is not your decision."

"They're spending entirely too much time together." He proclaims, standing up into a pace. "You agree with me about that, right?"

Joyce seems to think on this for a split second, a thoughtful frown written on her face as she pauses her work.

"Well, I mean, they're just kissing, right?"

"Yeah, but it is constant!" Feeling he hadn't made his point clearly enough, he steps forward and leans himself over a shelf. "It is constant. Okay? That is not normal, that is not healthy."

"You can't just force them apart. I mean, they're not little kids anymore, Hop. They're teenagers."

'They're not adults, either.' He thinks, angrily tossing a small rubber ball he had found up and down in the air as he paces.

"If you order them around like a cop, they're gonna rebel. It's just what they do."

"So what, I'm just supposed to let them do whatever they want?"

"No, I didn't say that." Joyce eases. "I think you should talk to them."

"No. No." Hopper sighs. "'Cause talking to them doesn't work."

Joyce fixes a stern glare on the man that she makes sure he sees. "Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them."

Hopper paces unsteadily, even shaking out his arms at the embarrassment that is already coming to him at the thought. This only worsen at what she says next.

"You know, like a heart-to-heart."

And yet, he stops suddenly. All trace of hostility replaced with uncertainty, and once again he fiddles with the hem of his hat.

"A heart-to-heart? What is that?"

"You sit them down and you talk to them, like you're their friend. I find if you talk to them like you're on their level, then they really start to listen."

Hopper leans tiredly against a support beam, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach.

"And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries." She finishes.

"Boundaries," he contemplates softly, and Joyce nods.

"Yeah, but, Hop, it's really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm."

Hopper rolls his eyes, something that does not escape Joyce. And despite her growing impatience with the man, she chooses to practice what she teaches and keeps her cool.

"You cannot lose your temper."

He uprooted his gaze from a spot on the ground and looks up at her, face still smushed against the support beam as he tries to entertain the idea.

"Did you have to do that with your boys?" He asks timidly.

The question paints another thoughtful look on her face as she recalls. But it's not long before she clicks her tongue and gives him a shake of the head.

"Not so much," she answers, marking another package of Yo-Yos before she interrupts herself momentarily. "I mean, not about this kind of stuff, no. I've talked to Jonathan some and he's a smart kid, you know. And Will, well, he's still pretty shy. I think he's getting used to this all this stuff still, I really don't think I have to worry about much for a while. But other stuff we've run into, like car payments with Jonathan or Will's chores... Both of their responsibilities around the house,"

She nods admittingly, sending Hopper an encouraging look.

"sometimes we need to rehash things like that, and I'll tell you, there's a lot less friction when you level with them."

Hopper watches his fingers as they steadily drum against the false wood of the beam, his mind racing and his dread building. In an attempt he knows is weak, he barely meets Joyce's eye and timidly asks.

"Maybe you could do it for me?"

Flabbergasted, Joyce shakes her head, mumbling several 'no's. Hopper steps forward eagerly, pleading with her.

"Yeah, you could. Yeah, you could," he says growing more excited. "You come over after work. Yes."

His feet spread far across the linoleum tile stretching his legs and lowering himself closer to her height. She only shakes her head further at his proposition, a small tug making itself known deep within her she can't allow herself to acknowledge.

"No, it only works if it comes from you," she says, jabbing the pricing gun on his chest that left a price sticker. She stops suddenly, a thoughtful look twisting her face that Hopper couldn't help but appreciate. "But..."

Joyce steps away and Hopper straightens, eagerly following her lead as she heads for her counter. "But?"

"Maybe I can help you," She pulls a pad of paper and pen from a hidden stack as she takes a seat, clicking the pen open as the words begin to accumulate in her mind. "find the right words."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Ow, ow, ow. Ow!"

Lucas stands wincing under the steady burst of lukewarm water that fell from the Henderson's kitchen faucet. Max watches with a sympathetic wince as he straightens, blinking back the painful sensation that stabbed at his eyes. Water covered his face and soaked some of his shirt, and yet he could still feel the stinging sensation in his corneas but the worst of it had subsided thankfully.

And he could finally open his eyes little by little now, which was a start.

"Better?" Asks Max, wince still screwed tight onto her face.

He takes a deep breath as Y/n makes her way into the kitchen in a brisk walk, a washcloth she had retrieved from the linen closet in hand. Lucas continues to blink back the blurry vision he still can't quite seem to escape as Y/n shoves the folded washcloth under the water while keeping a tentative eye on Lucas.

He inhales deeply, swiping several droplets from his eyes.

"Still stings." He answers finally.

Max frowns, not knowing what much else to say other than mumble a soft sorry he barely catches. Y/n stops the water, and rings out the small towel thoroughly before stepping back out of the way and refolding the piece of cloth.

She looks between her friends, offering a similar sympathetic look as she pressed the cloth firmly between her palms to reheat the already cooling water. Her powers work effortlessly to warm the now wet washcloth before she hands it over to him.

"This should help with the stinging. Don't use it yet though if your eyes aren't properly flushed,"

He sighs, taking it gratefully and pressing it to his eyes. The act draws out a small hiss but still he keeps it close to his eyes, welcoming the sense of relief it brings.

"Again, sorry about that," Y/n says, smiling weakly.

Lucas nods with a tight lipped smile and Max turns to smirk at Y/n.

"You seem to know a lot about this," she inquires.

A tired scoff breaks loose and Y/n's eyebrows shoot up in a funny look as she concedes.

"Unfortunately this isn't the first time something like this has happened with Dustin. One time I got up to get a midnight snack and he didn't hear me. Long story short, I spent the next half hour getting his glass of milk flushed out of my eyes. Some weaponized hairspray isn't that much of a surprise, I should have known."

There's a small beat of silence between the three of them that is soon broken by Lucas. He still holds the pink and slightly tattered washcloth firm against his eyes and a prolong sigh deflates his whole body as he nods.

"Yeah." He agrees somberly.

Chuckles bounce between the three of them and Y/n gives Lucas a quick pat on the back and a smile Max's way before leaving the kitchen. She disappears down the hall and into Dustin's room with others, leaving the couple alone yet again.

Lucas pulls the cloth away finally, his eyes still screwed shut. Max watches as he tests the waters and peels his eyes open. He's shocked to find no more pain or lingering sting left on his eyes, as of it had never been there. The only trace there had even been anything wrong is the hot washcloth in his hands and the almost non existent numbing tingle he felt in his eyes and the skin around them where Y/n had insisted on cleaning.

Noticing the odd look on his face, Max cocks a brow and looks go Lucas a bit uneasily.

"What?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I call it the Forever Clock," Dustin beams.

Mike, El, Y/n and Will stood gathered in Dustin's room surrounding him and his bag of trinkets he had created. With a bright grin he gives the lever on the device a spin, several of it's wooden popsicle parts spinning an eclectic blade of plastic and metal that one could only describe to look like a windmill.

"Alright? Powered by wind. Very useful in the apocalypse."

He hands the clicking contraption off to Will as he excitedly reached for another device. Will seems the only one taken with the device, and he smiles down at it impressed as he gives it several spins. Y/n watches from his side as he inspects the inner working of the contraption and she smiles to herself at the sight before her attention was pulled back to her brother.

"Then, I give you..." Dustin pulled another device from his bag, his excitement growing. "the Slammer."

Y/n, Mike and El seemed rather confused by the hammer he had pulled out and now began to fiddle with. Several pieces of unidentifiable objects were attached near the bottom of the handle. And with one simple click, the hammer comes to life in his hands. It shook immensely and even rattled his arm and yet he still stuck it forward for all to see. It brought out an impressed look on Y/n's face, which couldn't be said for the others.

Mike merely leaned away from the tremoring hammer with an unimpressed look, and El who clung to his shoulder, her arms interlaced with his took a cautious step back as her eyes widened. Will hadn't noticed, much too preoccupied with the Forever Clock and nobody seemed to notice the whiff of mischief take over him. He smiled at Y/n who still held her eye on the Slammer, and brought the Forever Clock closer to her face as he spun it. The clicks and whirs grabbed her attention and she turned just in time to see him clicking it towards her face. A small chortle escaped as she pushed it away, a toothy grin overtaking both their faces in a moment only they noticed as he gently teased her.

Dustin had already moved on, discarding the Slammer back on his bed and exchanging it for his duffle bag.

"—this is my masterpiece."

As carefully as the weight would allow him, Dustin dropped the bag to the ground creating a clunky and muted thunk, breaking the spell over the young couple and pulling them back to the present. Everyone followed suit as Dustin joined his duffle on the carpet, reaching for the zipper.

"I would like you to meet..." the bag is unzipped, unveiling an underwhelming pile of metal and wire. "Cerebro."

Dustin waited for the excitement he felt to spread to the others, his cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling. But he was only met with unimpressed and rather confused expressions. Mike didn't hold back.

"What exactly are we looking at here?"

Dustin's composure held, much too elated and content with his camp experiences to let the lack of enthusiasm dwindle his spirits.

"An unassembled one-of-a-kind battery-powered radio tower."

"So, it's a..." Will stammered, trying to hide his confusion rather poorly. "a ham radio."

"The Cadillac of ham radios." Dustin reassures. "This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast distances. I'm talking North Pole to South."

Y/n's eyebrows shot up, a factor Dustin did not fail to miss and his chest swelled a little with pride at what she said next.

"Wait, seriously?" She looks between Mike and Will before back to her brother. "And you made this?"

He straightens immediately, his chin hiking as he sends his sister a nod. She returns her attention to the bag, eyes carefully scanning the pieces in thought. Y/n the most of all unprepared for what he had to say next.

"Yep. And I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose."

Y/n's head was suddenly ripped away from the bag at a speed so quick it was a wonder she didn't break her neck, her eyes growing the size of saucers to rival everyone else's.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Max and Lucas stand hunched over a tupperware of Kraft Mac & Cheese they had fished from the refrigerator, both of them fighting over territory with their own forks as the sea of macaroni quickly disappeared. Max takes a big bite, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoys the impromptu lunch.

Lucas hums along with her, nodding his head as he thoroughly enjoys the cold leftovers. He shakes his head, defeated.

"This is pretty damn good," he admits.

Max hums an agreement, scooping up another small mountain of noodles as she does so.

"Wish we could have asked Y/n to heat it up for us though," Lucas frowns.

Max shoves the comment aside in her mind, and rolls her eyes. "There's a microwave right there,"

He shrugs innocently, his voice almost sad. "I know, but it's not as quick."

"Think we should save—"

Max stops midsentence when the sound of Y/n's muted voice echoes throughout the house

"WHAT?"

Lucas and Max freeze, even their jaws stop chewing as they frown in the direction her voice had come from. Slowly their heads turn to meet in an unsettled and worried gaze.

She couldn't know they were eating all her food, right?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Wait, so her name is Suzie?" Mike asks, close on Dustin's tail.

Backpack slung over his shoulders, Dustin coasts down the hallway, heading straight of the living room leaving the others not much time to catch up. Each of them had agreed to take sections of the cerebro in exchange for more information and a chance at talking to her if they helped him set up.

"Suzie with a 'z'," Dustin confirms, his heart fluttering at the thought of the girl he already missed dearly. "She's from Utah."

Without thinking, Will blurts out. "Girls go to science camp?"

And without missing a beat, Y/n sends him a bewildered and exasperated look as they scurry to stay on Mike and El's heels.

"You were single-handedly raised by Joyce Byers, how is it you keep asking things like this?"

Flustered at his mistake, he shakes his head and a sharp pang of guilt and embarrassment landed in his gut. Frantically, he shakes his head.

"No, sorry, that came out—" he sputters, shaking his head. "I meant there were girls there? Like wouldn't they keep them separate?"

Y/n sends him a flat and unimpressed look as her gaze slinks away from him and towards Dustin waiting for his answer.

"Yes and no." Dustin replies quickly, heading for the door much to the confusion of Lucas and Max who were still elbow deep in Mac & Cheese. "It's a boy/girl camp, but they house us separately, obviously."

"Is she cute?" Mike asks, genuinely excited for his friend.

"Think Phoebe Cates, only hotter."

El sends a confused glance to Y/n, silently asking for help. "Phoebe Gates?"

Y/n shrugs, swallowing the light hearted chuckle that came with El's mispronunciation. Easing her worry away, Y/n quickly mumbled. "A TV person." Which promoted a small, knowing nod from El as it clicked in her head.

"What's going on?" Max asked finally, as she straightened curiously.

One by one they began filing out the front door. El, Will, and Y/n the last to leave as each they lugged their own section of the cerebro. Y/n grew visibly exuberant as she all but skipped out of the door, the brightest spark of mischief dancing in her eyes.

"We're going to talk to Dustin's girlfriend."

Simultaneously, their forks dropped with a muted clang. Lucas, who up until this very moment had been quite invested in the Mac & Cheese sprang up from where he towered over the counter. Much too eagerly in fact as the back of his skull quickly met the underside of the hanging cupboards. And yet he was too stunned to care.

"—Girlfriend?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

CONTINUE TO SUPPORT BLACK LIVES!! This is FAR from over!

BLACK VOTERS MATTER

"Our goal is to increase power in our communities. Effective voting allows a community to determine its on destiny."

Includes voter registration, policy advocacy, organizational development/training, and help fund activities related to certain elections.

Self Care For People of Color After Psychological Trauma - JustJasmineBlog

Google Doc of Anti-Racism Resources

**I can't quite remember if I have shared this link before so I sincerely apologize. If that is the case though it is still a very useful link worth being reminded of and worth a second look**

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @ @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl @nightbu-g @lozzybowe

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! ❥

#cosmic 3 #will byers x reader #y/n henderson #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #el hopper #dustin henderson #joyce byers #jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things 3 #suzie do you copy?#will byers imagine #will byers series

84 notes · View notes

themrsbueckers · 6 months ago

Text

bruh i went grocery shopping came back and sue birds a zionist, hannah hidalgo is homophobic, alysha clark is citizenship with israel, ac and sydney are beefing on twitter, natasha cloud is agreeing and defending ac, caitlin posted her “bf” for his bd and now hes at a club w/o her w girls half naked, dyaisha far responded to a girl telling her shes signing w a team who commits genocide w a LAUGHING EMOJI, and trump got shot but it was apparently fake and ppl saying his secret service rubbed ketchup on him??? I LEFT FOR 2 HOURS AND STUFF IS STILL COMIMG OUT

(this is all alleged to since some of yall wanna start trying to come for me😒, just stating what ive seen and read damn)

and paige finally posted her espy pics to when i was mid shopping😫😫literally stopped mid aisle when i got the notification that she posted and i saw her stylist post her on her story and they’re apparently doing another photoshoot w stockx SHE LOOKED TEW GOOD😫😫and her at the interview thingy this morning bruh so much is happening i cant keep up

smb fill me in on wth is happening 😭 I went to work, went on break and found out hidalgo is a homopbobe and i clock out and shit is STILL happening??

i’m dizzy 💔

53 notes · View notes

fucklovepayme · 5 years ago

Note

My pseudo-sd told me today that he wants to wait until we know each other more to give me more money. I asked him for the down payment to my apartment. We’ve known each other for almost four months, only met up once, haven’t had sex yet. He said he wants to meet up again before committing to that much money (about $2500) but he’s the one who’s always gone traveling for work and never has time to meet (had this whole conversation while he’s in Europe) (1/3)

He’s given me significant money in the past for random things, and told me that he’s damn near in love with me earlier, but when it’s something I need it’s a problem? He keeps trying to get me to go to the Amalfi coast in Italy or Cabo or Turks and Caicos, but won’t give me money to secure a place to live? I really want to go back to escorting but I live in an area where guys want/can only afford $40 bareback qv and haggle over prices so they can fuck for less than $100, so I moved (2/3)

over to sugaring again but DAMN this is tew much. I need to move to a bigger and better city with more options and better guys who don’t think $2500 is too much to ask after four months and guys understand that pussy costs. Okay rant over (3/3) _________________

I would cut that fake SD off. He only wants to give you money for what he wants to give you money for. He don’t love you if you need money for a security deposit and he got it but don’t want to give it. $2500 is nothing to a man who really got it and is in love with the woman. If possible, escort and advertise in that city, like go to that city to do your business. Moving there is not necessary especially if you can’t afford to move right now. Research what other escorts charge and base your prices off that.

9 notes · View notes

sapphire-weapon · 6 years ago

Note

do you think ruvik can be redeemed?

Link to the previous discussion for reference.

Woof. I had to struggle a bit with this one, because I could feel my bias coming out when I got it. My kneejerk reaction was, “No, fuck that guy” but when I took a step back and really thought about it, that’s not a fair statement to make.

Ruvik showed, through the flashbacks we got of him as a child, that he was not always a complete and total fuckhead. He’s hesitant to work with Jimenez not out of distrust of the man or the paranoia that he harbors later in life, but because he has the emotional awareness to think that Jimenez would be put off or grossed out by his experiments. His love for Laura shows a capacity for warmth and kindness and compassion, as twisted and warped as his expression of it became. He even shows the tiniest bit of sympathy for Sebastian by saying, “Too bad they dragged you into this.” It’s a half-finished thought, with the latter half being “...because I would’ve left you alone otherwise.” It’s the barest hint of, “Sucks to be you,” which shows that Ruvik possesses the very bare minimum of empathy towards another person’s situation.

On the surface, theoretically, Ruvik is a redeemable villain.

I say that with the caveat that I personally will never forgive him, no matter how well-executed a theoretical redemption might be. I also say that with the secondary caveat that I don’t trust Bethesda to handle a redemption arc for him properly. Notice how I didn’t say that I don’t trust Tango. With enough time and a big enough budget to push out a proper TEW title, Tango’s writing staff is more than capable of pulling this off. The problem is that I don’t trust Bethesda to give them either of those things.

The thing about my example of Rufus Shinra in my last post is that he was an easily redeemed villain. Nothing that he ever did in Final Fantasy VII was profoundly unforgivable -- except for maybe the attempted execution of Barret and Tifa, but even that wasn’t something that he felt passionately about or was all that wholly committed to. Rufus’s menace factor as a villain was undercut by Sephiroth’s actions, and he never got to become as terrible of a person as he was likely capable.

With a villain like Ruvik, a redemption arc isn’t so easy. It’s not impossible, but it would not be an easy task at all, nor would it seem as elegant as the one that Rufus got. The biggest hurdle with a Ruvik redemption arc would be crafting a villain that was somehow more powerful, more terrifying, and more menacing than he was without it feeling like they just popped up out of nowhere.

Ruvik is an extremely menacing villain, to the point where TEW2 even had to acknowledge it, despite TEW2 trying as hard as it could to distance itself from TEW1′s lore as much as possible. Even in a game where he was not present, the sheer terror factor and threat of him is so overwhelming that it continuously hung over the heads of almost every character. He almost felt present in that game, even though he really wasn’t.

How do you outclass and humble a villain like that?

Even though Ruvik is a theoretically redeemable villain, I’m not sure that logistically there’s much of a path left in the narrative to actually give him a redemption arc. The only way that Ruvik can be outclassed and become humbled without it feeling cheap and contrived would’ve likely been through Mobius devising mechanisms within STEM to curtail Ruvik’s power and control and leave him reeling. But since Mobius is A. shown to be a bunch of incompetent morons in TEW2 and B. dead now, there’s no real way to unseat Ruvik as the most powerful and terrifying menace in the TEW universe without asspulling, like, an elder god out of nowhere and completely shattering the audience’s suspension of disbelief.

Sorry, Ruvik. But if there is ever a TEW3 (and you’re in it), chances are you’ll die in it just as you lived: as a fucking awesome villain who scares the shit out of all of us.

#the evil within #writing tag #ask

8 notes · View notes

cammie · 5 years ago

Text

yall have no idea how sorry i am before i post these

message to all my followers before i GO HAM feel free to send me hate mail in my inbox for drawing sylvia and dally i hate myself too <3

#cammie.txt #me looking at them now: hm maybe thats a little tew much tiddie for tumblr #commiting an osha violation <3

1 note · View note

the-firebird69 · 7 months ago

Text

We are going to have to shut these people down their stuff is ranted as rancid and I mean it they're they're hollering about us all the time and they won't shut up and people want them to shut up and they're coming in and we do have news and it is pretty big we do have to announce it too we're going to get to it right now

-we have about 50 people in the neighborhood who need to leave and they are not welcome here anymore they are going to strike Stan and they're renting from him and he is going to try new victim and the others are going to help and they're looking forward to it and taking over the neighborhood and all sorts of things and they have plans to put pools in yeah it's going forwards right now that they are going to try and take care of these idiots it's been a plan for a long time it's been a plan and then they're going to try and enact it tonight let's start going after people and they'll encourage them to relocate out of town it's going to be a big big event and it will be tiresome but finally okay what a damn nuisance and this guy next to her he needs to leave all the time no doubt about it and that is one thing that is going to actually make things change here that they have committed themselves to do it. And they're doing it based on needing to have more of an edge or advantage when it comes to defending themselves in town they having trouble keeping them off him and they get in trouble and they have them in the police they can't get them out of there and it's going to be tedious but they're going to do what they said and they're really they should have done it long time ago they should have more presents they're seeing it all over when they start doing it how quickly it changes and these guys got very arrogant and stood up the whole time regardless.

We're going to print he says it's huge and it is

Thor Freya

Olympus

Yeah sometimes we have our moments

Daniel

That was a little ridiculous let's do it again I don't think so

Michael tew

No way man can't do that again what are these guys suck really bad

Justin

Olympus

Good God I'm back at the bottom again really this is hell I'm pulling out of this stupid investment thing too and they're saying all sorts of s*** like my son-in-law saying and also I said he's right the whole time I have to prepare for it and I'm going to end up beating the s*** out of him that's why he said get ready cuz you're going to have some beer and someone helps with it cuz it's the bourbon whiskey and I don't understand what he's saying it doesn't care if I'm drinking unless cranky and I say fun things and have jokes and we do things that are less boring we went out to Sarasota we're going up and down on the boardwalk at like 11:00 p.m. and head Pizza and I mean that was fun it's a good time I may have thrown up a little but it was really from the box of wine I drink from the grocery store

Ken

Haha it's actually a famous story cuz you guys had a great time and then you throw up in a shirt so he had to take it off wipe yourself off and throw the shirt out and yet another one and it's kind of what he does and we do it a lot too but he never really is able to but he was happy to someone grabbed the shirt and they're wearing a vomit shirt and they're responsible for it that's how we find out who it was she started using that and we really needed to and saved lives not that the box of wine did but it was cheap and at that place is a pretty good brand those two spent 20 minutes looking for a really cheap one you would not believe how hilarious it was these guys are so poor it hurts yeah I think they're a bit slow

Mac daddy

It looks like you're having fun selecting things what you're saying is we don't have any money this blows let's get the cheapest they have I noticed it a while ago in this idiot is doing it Trump important is he stupid we have to mop the floor with them and we heard about the investment thing and he's such an a****** and he's going to be dead everybody's saying it you're such a freaking loser

Bja

Hey what happens is they won't separate from him because of his threats and we will have to push them all out and it's probably going to start now it started up already in Philadelphia and it's going to continue right on down the line and it'll be held in the upper Midwest and they'll regret stopping deliveries and the flowing out of there and they will be pushed down and out and the whole way they're going to be pushed out and I don't know what happens Forrest Gump is a weird movie I don't know why that would coincide like the kidnapped Justin or something and Mac doing the revolutionary war and the civil war hasn't heated up it comes after the revolutionary war but the preamble is going on and I sort of see that

Ken

0 notes

myneighborhood-thelake · 3 years ago

Text

IronMan Canada 1998

IMC '98 meant a lot to me because it paved the way for some major changes in my life which I really needed to make. There are probably to many tri-related details and too many extraneous issues in this and the subsequent post that I will send out. I apologise in advance if you dislike rambling stories, but the IMC experience was much more than 14 hours 10 minutes and 48 seconds of swimming, biking and running (walking). It was over a year of contemplation and training, and it was 10 years of racing narrowed down into one event.

That said, please enjoy.

I think that my story starts out about 5 years ago. I was putting myself through my final years of college and money was just a little tight. I made a conscious choice to stop racing triathlons for a while to reduce my expenses. I graduated and landed a great job with excellent potential for advancement. Since I was pushing hard in my career tri's were still regulated to the backseat. 2 1/2 years passed in that job and I was experiencing severe burnout. I had focused all of my intensity on my work, and work was not as exciting as it had been when I was fresh out of college.

Labor Day (U.S.) 1997. One of my best friends got married in Philadelphia - which is an incredible town. At an after party I was talking with a couple of people - an associate editor of Triathlete magazine and a guy who occasionally does a few tri's. The tri-geek was trying to get the Triathlete editor to give him a slot for Kona. He would have been better off trying to score a date with her - there was no way that she was going to conjure up a Kona slot. She suggested IMC as a place to qualify.

The wheels in my head started to turn - "I need a challenge" "I have wanted to get back into tri's for several years" "I need a really big challenge to get me out of my workaholic rut" "Maybe I should try IMC"

Back at work I downloaded the IMC '98 application and contemplated the commitment to training for an IM. My wife was 100% behind me signing up for IMC. When we started dating I was racing tri's in Southern California, and she knows how much I enjoyed the scene. I bit the bullet and mailed in my application. I even started training - somewhat. Four plus years of inactivity had taken their toll. I had purchased a new Kestrel KM40 in the fall of 1996, but I only had ridden it for about 100 miles in the year since I bought it. It was pretty embarrassing to be out riding my shiny, new Kestrel as I was getting passed by everyone on the road.

I soon subscribed to Tri-DRS and saw all the traffic about IMC filling up in record time. I wondered, I worried, I fretted, and then the confirmation letter came. It was true - I was going to Canada in 9 months.

To say the least - I was really scared. I was out of shape. I had never done an Ironman. I used to train for Oly distance races using a "feeling" plan - "How do I feel today and what do I want to do?" I knew that I could not train for an Ironman on such an ad hoc training plan.

I wrote down my goals for IMC '98. A

1. Finish my first Ironman. 2. Have fun.

After the race I would: 1. Smile. 2. Hug my wife. 3. Be happy that I went from couch potato to Ironman in 10 months!!!!

I needed some help in training, so I talked with my college teammate and now QR pro Greg Thompson. Greg suggested that I contact Lauren Alexander for coaching advice. The best thing that I did in the months prior to IMC was hire Lauren as my coach. She is a major asset.

The months flew by, I had a hideous race at Wildflower, I DNF'd at San Jose due to a mechanical, I finally had a great race at a local sprint tri and I did pretty well at the 1/2 Vineman. The 1/2 Vineman taught me that I could overcome problems during a race and still continue on to a good finish. I sent out numerous emails to both the Tri-DRS and the IMC lists asking all kinds of stupid questions. Luckily there are a lot of great people on the list who answered my questions and gave me some great guidance. Unbelievably - Taper Time for IMC arrived - my first IM was only 3 weeks away.

During all of this IM training, life continued to march forward. My wife continued her studies and supported my training endeavors. My job structure changed again, and again, and again, and finally I found a new job that started two weeks before IMC - of course I negotiated a one week break for IMC into my offer. As always there was a multitude of issues to deal with that really got in the way with training. As time marched on I forgot about my initial race goals - I started thinking about racing IMC as opposed to surviving it, and that was a big mistake. My initial goals were what I should have focused on, but I wasted a lot time worrying about split times, average speed and run paces.

Tuesday Afternoon,

Flew from San Francisco to Vancouver. A hometown friend drove to Penticton, so I stashed my bike in his mini-van for the trip. I did not have to worry about packing a bike box, or whether my bike would arrive in Penticton on my flight.

While waiting for the puddle jumper from Vancouver to Penticton, some guy sat next to me and asked me if I was doing the race. I am not sure why he would look at me and assume that I was racing IMC - Okay, maybe the shaved legs and Specialized transition bag were pretty good indicators. He introduces himself as Scott Adams (it sounds familiar). I introduce myself as Ron Renwick. Sometimes it is very useful to have your name and email address coincide. Scott recognized my name, and further introduced himself as an infrequent poster to Jason's IMC list - this is a really small world! Another friend of mine, Bill - from my Wildflower debacle, showed up and we waited for the plane to Penticton.

We arrived in Penticton. Scott had a seat next to me on the plane where he tried to avoid listening to me whine about how hungry I was for the duration of the flight. Thanks for the pretzels Scott. In the Penticton airport, Scott started talking to this big guy with bright 'blonde' hair and a smaller guy with very little hair. Jason Mayfield and Bruce Grant had come to pick up Scott. I think that Bruce's wife and Eric Austin may have been there too, but it was a few days ago and my memory is not what it used to be. Scott's bike actually made it into Penticton on our flight. My buddy Bill was not so lucky. His bike did not show (as expected), and Canadian Airlines had lost his suitcase too. His carry-on consisted solely of his race wheels, so he was not a happy camper.

Bill and I made our way to the Rochester Resort - 2 doors from the Sicamous, and "The Best Value On The Beach." It was late so we walked the 10 steps to Salty's restaurant for a bite to eat. FYI, avoid Salty's if possible. Bill was able to buy a toothbrush at the local convenience store - he now had race wheels, the clothes on his back and a toothbrush - Bill was not a happy camper.

Wednesday,

0700 - I made my way to the Sicamous for my first pre-IMC swim. I met so many people that I had emailed with over the last 10 months. I only swam for 20 minutes, but meeting everyone was incredible. My goggles broke during the swim - add one more thing to my "Must Buy" list.

After a shower Bill and I walked downtown to the Hog's Breath. We grabbed a cup of coffee and some breakfast. Bill was impressed that we kept bumping into Tri-DRS'ers. I finally told him that "Everything I know about Penticton I learned on from the List." Which meant that anywhere we went we were sure to bump into some Deads. We walked around town, checked out the construction zone of the Athlete's village and hit the Bike Barn - a really cool bike store. Most bike shops in the SF Bay area are pretty streamlined. They look more like a Blockbuster Video store than a neighborhood bike shop - everything is in its proper spot. The Bike Barn rocks - racks of stuff and a good assortment of bikes. Bins were overflowing with stuff. It was a great place to dig around for bike goodies. The place was humming with tri-bikes. There must have been at least 8 workstands going continuously.

We went to lunch at Front Street Pasta (Jason's choice) a great meal for a very low price. I finally met Dave 'the starving student" Barclay. Jason was quite the entertainment director - as the week progressed he started looking more and more like Julie Tewes, the Cruise Director from the Love Boat ;-).

My bike arrived in the afternoon - reassembly consisted of putting the front wheel back on (no allen wrenches for me). For dinner it was Front Street Pasta again this time with my bike hauling friend Ray, Bill, Dead Chris Nugent and lurking Dead Bob Castaldi. A post-dinner beer with Ray and Greg Pressler was quite relaxing. Greg truly is a poet at heart.

Thursday

Thursday was my glycogen depletion/carbo load day so I did a solo swim and run and 4 of us rode the first 15 miles of the bike course out and back. We meant to ride the run course, but we turned left on McClean by mistake. We then picked up our registration packets and got our wrist bands. It was official - I was signed up for an Ironman.

Friday

I missed the 0700 swim by 10 minutes, so I did not get to meet anyone new from the list. However, after the swim I finally met the person that I have tried to meet for months now. We train in the same locations, we race the same races and we live only a few miles apart, but I had never met this person. Finally, after a 2000 mile trek to Canada, I finally met Tri-Baby, the one the only Tricia Richter. Now I wonder how the hell I missed seeing her in other races! And I thought that Jason had some noticable hair.

My buddy Ray and I went to the Hog's Breath after the swim for a dose of caffeine, and we bumped into some deads (imagine that). Gerry Kuse was talking to Tricia and Skippy. He was wearing a 1993 Mike and Rob's shirt, a race that I had my 1/2 IM PR in way back when (it's a small world). It turns out the Gerry and I have raced at several of the same races over the years.

At the carbo load dinner we learned that there would be 675 IronVirgins racing on Sunday. 40% of the racers were attempting there first IM. Wow!

Saturday

My wife flew into town on Saturday morning. I was really glad to see her. She had been so supportive of my training, and she deserves the title of IronMate. She had originally been scheduled to fly up with me on Tuesday, but her school schedule mandated that she stay at home during the pre-race week and attend classes. I often say that you should always have at least one smart person in the family, and I was lucky enough to marry well.

The day pretty much flew by with the pre-race meeting, the parade, packing Special Needs Bags and bike check-in. My nutrition plan was pretty simple - Gu and Cytomax and salt tabs. I had trained with Gu, Cyto and salt tabs over the past 10 months with great results. At the last minute I decided to toss an Okanagan pear into my Bike Special Needs Bag.

A post parade dinner at the Gunbarrel and a walk home were all that I needed for the evening. It was time to get some sleep. Before I drifted off I thought back to my original goals. Oh yeah, I was here to have fun. I was not here to break 14 or 12 or 10 hours, but I still held out for a good race even though I knew that I just wanted to finish. I wish that I would have looked back on my goals more often.

The actual Race Report follows.

Sunday - RACE DAY

I started the day with a 3:00 am breakfast run to Denny's. Ray and I figured that an early breakfast would be useful for us. I had actually slept for about 5 or 6 hours the night before, and I felt pretty good.

At about 5:00 am I gathered my Special Needs Bags and swim gear bag and marched 3/4 of a mile to the transition. I got body marked, Championchipped and went straight to my bike. Even at 0500 the volunteers were friendly and incredibly helpful. I chose to leave my floor pump at the hotel [good choice] - with my floor pump absent from the transition area there were only 1,699 floor pumps in the TA waiting to be used. In addition there was a crew from the Bike Barn with a compressed air cylinder for filling tires. I pumped up my Conti's to about 160psi, loaded my aerobag, filled my jetstream and walked around the corner to the Swim and Run transition bag racks.

The 2 hours from 0500 to 0700 flew by. I chatted with a few friends, revelled in the fact that I was about to start my first Ironman and donned my wetsuit. I did a warm up swim for about 10 minutes in the clear Lake Okanagan. I chatted with Chris Nugent. I high-fived and chatted with Greg Pressler. In Greg's race report he mentioned that he saw "fire in Ron's eyes." With all due respect, I think that Greg is confusing the "Happy Face" holograms on my goggles with fire.

Meeting the people on this list has been a special thrill, both Greg and I have both been doing tri's for over 10 years, but we had waited until now for our first IM. We both had that "This is finally it" feeling, he went on to an incredible race that he really deserved.

The day before the race, Greg had a great observation about the IMC swim course. "It's an International Distance swim on the way out, a few hundred meters to the right and a 1/2 IM swim on the way home - we have done this before."

Oh Canada was played. I think that I heard some bagpipes somewhere, and the race STARTED!

I was here to have fun so I held back for a few seconds to let the mass of humanity clear out from the start line. I started swimming. I kept thinking to myself "This is so COOL! I am finally doing an IronMan." I passed the first set of marker bouys and thought to myself "WOW, I just passed my first set of IronMan marker bouys. This is AWESOME!"

The swim went very well. It was much less brutal than Wildflower, and the course is very well marked. I was so happy to be racing. I was bumped a few times, I swam over a few folks, I drafted a little and hit some toes and I was drafted off of. I hit the first houseboat (leg 1) in 25 minutes - I was ecstatic. I stopped for a second to adjust the neck of my wetsuit as I was experiencing a little chafe. I made it to the second right turn at 35 minutes - one more leg to go. The swim course is so well marked that I had to do very little sighting - maybe one look every 10 strokes. Basically, the swim was all mine. I focussed completely on how I was doing. If I bumped someone or got kicked it just did not matter. I really enjoyed being out there. I hit the beach and attempted to walk over the annoying rocks.

I looked at my watch - I had completed the swim in 1:06!!!!!!!!

I was expecting to have a 1:20 swim as I have only been in the water 5 or 6 times since Wildflower in May, and two of those times were tri swims. A 1:06 was incredible.

I thought "It cannot get any better than this!"

It did not get any better.

In fact, things got far, far worse.

SWIM TO BIKE TRANSITION

I wore my Speedo and singlet under my wetsuit during the swim, so I only had to don my cycling shoes and helmet. I also stopped to urinate - little did I know that I would not have to worry about that for the next 12 hours. . .

I rolled out of town feeling really good. I had just finished an incredible swim, and I was finally starting on the bike leg of my first Ironman! I took it easy for the first 5 miles - I figured that I had 107 more miles to make up time. I hit the drops as we hit South Main Street. My first priority was to hydrate and the cytomax was not tasting very good. I spun my way up McClean Road and picked off many people on the downhill - when you weigh 195 pounds downhills are a real rush. My stomach was a little tight, but I attributed that to being so early in the race.

At the bottom of McClean someone was nice enough to tell me that I had lost my pump during the rapid descent. The bracket holding my pump on my bike broken off. "Nothing I can do about it now - I hope that I don't flat."

At about mile 10 my JetStream went dry. I had a bottle of highly concentrated Cytomax on my downtube with markings on the bottle to delineate portions. I shot some Cyto concentrate into my JetStream and filled the rest with water to make a 7% solution. I immediately took a drink from my JetStream. The concentrate and the water had not mixed together, so I got about an 80% solution of Cyto in that mouthful.

I should have pulled off the side of the road and tossed my cookies.

I chose to keep the cytomax concentrate down and chase it with water - it's hard to say, but this may have been a big mistake.

My stomach started cramping big time! I could no longer drink. I tried to take a Gu, but I could not get it down. 10 miles into the bike and I could neither hydrate nor feed - OH NO!

I tried some different positions on the bike to alleviate my stomach cramps. The aero position put direct pressure on my abdomen which was not feeling too good. I alternated between sitting upright and going aero.

I was still doing pretty good with respect to speed. At mile 41 I took the right turn to head up Richter.

Can someone please tell me why both Wildflower and IMC have a hill at Mile 41???

At the base of Richter I was still holding a 22.5mph average. Then I started climbing Richter. In the grand scheme of things Richter is not a terrible climb. I ride much worse on my regular training rides. However, Richter is at mile 41 of an IM and I had not eaten much for 3 hours (swim and bike time)

I bonked.

I hurt.

I struggled to the top of Richter,

I cursed the wind.

I quit looking at my heart rate monitor - it just did not matter.

I got passed by most of the people racing at IMC.

I got passed by pedestrians who were walking up Richter.

The downhill after Richter should have been a lot of fun, but I could not hold a good tuck. I only hit 47 mph. The uphill after Richter and the rollers through the Osoyoos were intolerable. I just kept pedaling forward. I stopped at about mile 60 to eat a banana - finally I was able to consume something. I was very happy that it stayed down. I continued to slog forward. The head wind was really causing problems. Even the flat spots were hard to ride. I promised myself that I would take a break when I got my special needs bag. I passed a med tent on the way out the second out and back section. I was very tempted to stop and take a nap.

When I got my special needs bag, I rode to the closest clear spot, dropped my bike and sat down. I opened my bag. The Gu's were completely unappetizing, but the pear looked great. I started eating my Okanagan pear - man that tasted good. Unfortunately that was the only good item in my SNB. [Note to Self: diversify nutrition plans in future long races]. Some saint in one of Jason's IMC-RST jerseys stopped next to me. It was John Welch. He had an extra turkey sandwich that tasted incredible. I could eat! This tall guy with a mustache and a blue Softride stopped next to me. He was not having a good day. My personal saint, Jeff, said "George are you OK." It was George Ball. Since I was sitting on the ground in close proximity I have to say - George has some big, skinny feet. George was not feeling too good, and he crossed the road to sit down in a chair.

I shouted to a teammate, Gerry Morton, but he looked around at eye level and missed me sitting down. I saw Tri-Baby, and pretty soon Steve "Gibbo" Gibson rolled up. Gibbo looked incredibly fresh. He looked more like he had just started his ride than that he had already ridden 75 miles. Gibbo's special needs bag was missing and he was pretty irate about not getting to his vegemite sandwiches. To be honest, I have tried the stuff and I think that he was better off not having access to his vegemite, but then again I am not an Aussie ;-).

I gave myself 20 minutes of rest at the special needs stop. The first couple of miles felt OK, but soon thereafter my quads wanted to quit (again).

The course turned back onto Highway 3A and started the gradual climb to Yellow Lake Hill. It was really hot and really windy. Then we hit Yellow Lake Hill. I kept telling myself to live only in the moment - forget about the rest of the race - things will get better, but I was really hurting. It became a battle of feet. Instead of pushing to get to the next mile marker, I goaled for the next traffic sign or the next rock on the shoulder of the road. Bit by bit, pedal turn by pedal turn.

Finally, I stopped on the climb and sat on my top tube for a while (I chose not to time myself). Most people were really great. Almost all of the athletes asked if I was OK, and the race marshalls stopped to check on me. I seriously thought about dropping out. I looked at my watch just as it hit the 7 hour mark. I was at mile 90. I did a quick calculation - I had 10 hours to ride 22 miles and run a marathon. 22 mile rides are easy spins during training. I could do this.

I chose not to DNF. I started riding again. I passed some guy who was walking his bike and I decided to do the same. Two teammates passed me as I was walking, my buddy Ray and Tana, who always looks like she is just out doing an easy training ride even though she is hammering along. They made sure that I was OK as the cruised on by. I made it to the aid station at the top of the hill. A volunteer offered me cold, de-fizzed Pepsi. Pepsi was not in my pre-race plan, but then again, walking up Yellow Lake was not in my plan - I took the Pepsi.

The caffeine and sugar boost was amazing. I started riding once again. My stomach wanted to get rid of the Pepsi, but I made it stay down. I passed Ray and I caught Tana. Tana and I chatted for a minute until my specialty arrived - the Yellow Lake Downhill. I expected to cruise with the downhill bias back into town, but after the big downhill the headwind took over again. I slogged back to the transition area.

As I crossed paths with the people already on the run course I tried to assess their condition. Some people looked pretty good, but most were looking pretty tired. I got to the transition area, but I forgot to slip out of my shoes before I handed off my bike. My brain was not working too well.

BIKE TO RUN TRANSITION

Since I was going to wear my speedo and singlet for the run I did not need to change. I went into the changing tent just to sit down for a while. I applied some vaseline and stuck some reflective tape on my speedo. Ray had slipped the reflective tape in my Bike-Run bag (thanks Ray). I ate a little watermelon and drank some water. The watermelon tasted great, but I was worried about it staying down during the run. I left the changing tent to start my first ever marathon.

An Amazing IMC tidbit - I fully expected to have to carry my gear bags to a rack and hang them up. For both transitions you simply leave the gear bag on the ground. A volunteer comes along and gathers up the gear bag and hangs it on a rack - so simple - so easy for the athlete.

THE RUN

My original plan had been to start running slowly and see how things turned out. Running slowly was not a problem - everything was going to be slow. Running fast was unthinkable. I walked the aid stations, drank, ate a little bit and drenched myself with sponges. It was really hot!!

My first mile was an 11:30 and I was really happy. I hit mile 2 in 22:30 - amazingly I was actually picking up the pace (if only slightly). I walked mile 4. At mile 6, I was caught by some guy who wanted ibuprofen. After Vineman I made sure that I had Ibu with me, so I handed him a tablet. We chatted for a while until it became obvious that we knew each other. It was Dennis from RST and Greg Pressler's friend. Dennis pulled me to the run turnaround by alternating running and walking. Dennis kept talking about his Run special needs bag that contained a pair of dry socks. I remembered that my SNB only had Gu.

[see Note to Self from Bike Special Needs bag section - vary the contents of the Special Needs Bag]]

My split time for the 13.1 miles to the turnaround was 3 hours even. My friend Bill ran into and out of the turnaround looking great. He had a mechanical on the bike that cost him almost an hour.

Then I remembered that I had also put a pair of dry socks in my special needs bag. In fact I had brought a pair to Canada just for this purpose. The socks were pretty old, so if I chose not to wear them it was no big deal if I lost them. I was so happy that I had remembered to put fresh socks into my Needs Bag. The socks would only provide a momentary relief, but that moment would be enough. I needed something to brighten my day.

Dennis and I sat down to open our special needs bags. We ripped off our shoes and wet socks. We opened our special needs bags. Dennis pulled out a pair of dry socks.

OOPS! I had forgotten to pack the socks. I put my sweaty socks and shoes back on. Putting wet, icky socks back on was not the most pleasant feeling. The delivery truck with the chicken soup stopped at the turnaround.

I originally had hoped to be off the course by the time the chicken soup hit the aid stations. I had never envisioned myself only being halfway through the run when the chicken soup came out. Oh well, here I was and the soup smelled good. I sipped a cup and almost hurled. What is manna from heaven for many triathletes just did not sit well with me - I gagged at the first sip.

We started back down the road toward Penticton. The sun was starting to set which meant that it would finally cool off. Ray was just climbing the hill to the turnaround. He was surprised that the turnaround had come so soon - he looked smooth in his running form - nice and steady.

For Dennis and I it was:

Run some.

Walk more.

I ate what little I could at the aid stations.

Ray caught up to us just as we caught up to Bill. Bill had looked great leaving the turnaround, but he was struggling through a low point now. The four of us marched slowly along - it was good to know that every step was bringing us back into town. After a while Bill perked up again, and he and Ray started jogging back to town. Dennis and I kept shuffling along. A mile or two later, Dennis ducked into a porta-potty and I just stopped by the side of the road - the first time that I had urinated in 12+ hours! Believe it or not it was a major mental boost. I had really been starting to worry about my kidneys.

It became apparent that Dennis had a lot more left in his legs than I did. I wished him luck as he disappeared around a corner. My feet were really starting to hurt. I did not have any blisters or abrasions, but it felt like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to the soles of my feet and my toes. I was almost hoping that a couple of my toes would just fall off so that they would not hurt anymore. I came around a corner and hit another aid station. On the other side of the aid station Ray and Bill were walking slowly. They had dropped their pace in order to wait for me - THANKS GUYS!!!!

At that point we were about 20 miles into the marathon. Two women came running by us like it was a 10K - I wondered where they got the energy from. A few seconds later about 4 guys caught us and they laid out their very detailed plan for breaking 14 hours. It is great to be at a race with sooooo many engineers - almost everyone is incredibly analytical. The plan was pretty simple - hold 11 minute miles and we would break 14 hours, but these guys had even calculated walking zones and rest stops..... To everyone we passed - two of the guys kept on saying - "hop on the 9:00 o'clock express. You can do it."

It turns out that the guys had also shared their plan with the two women who had run by like gazelles. The women had found something inside themselves and they chose to push it hard into town. Unfortunately we passed them about 1/2 mile later as they could not hold that pace that they had charged ahead with.. We left the water line of Skaha Lake and started climbing the rollers. I passed another guy and this time I looked back and saw a Tri-DRS singlet. I introduced myself and finally met Jay Capers.

The group of us was still shuffling along trying to hold 11 minute miles. The detail oriented engineer guys were still calculating our odds of breaking 14. I dropped off as we went through the Skaha rollers, but I was able to catch the group again on the downhills. Ray and Bill were feeling pretty good, so they pulled ahead. This left me with the two human calculators/cheerleaders. The guy on the right introduced himself. I was not hearing or concentrating very well so I thought that he said his name was "Ralph." He corrected me that his name was not "Ralph" but "Rolf" - even my feeble brain was able to decipher that I was running next the "Keeper of the IMC Lodging and Goal Times List" I introduced myself to Rolf Arands.

The guy on my left said "didn't I give you a sandwich at the bike Special Needs Bag?" It was John Welch of RST. He had saved me on the bike and he was trying to pull me in for a sub 14 hour finish.

As before - we were shuffling along - only we had picked up the pace to give ourselves a margin of error. We debated about how fast we were running

"do you think this is a 9 minute mile?" "I think it's more like an 8:30" "Yeah right, like we could run 8:30's right now?" "It sure feels like an 8:30"

We turned onto Main Street and hit the aid station. I had to walk and asked Rolf and John to run on. Rolf tried to talk me into running with them, but I was not up for it. The finish line was getting closer, but I was hurting too much - my feet were lodging a formal protest.

I kept trudging along on Main Street. The fans were incredibly helpful. An ironvet on a bike talked to me for over a block - he was very motivating. I promised him that I wouild run again when there were three stoplights to go. Hurricane Bob Mina passed me and I congratulated him. I started jogging again.

Two blocks from the Hog's Breath I picked up my pace. I ran (actually ran - not jogged) the last few yards of Main Street - high fiving the kids and cheering with the crowd. I could not believe that I was running. The left turn onto Lakeshore Drive was incredible. I ran hard to the finish line and crossed in 14:10:48.

I completed my goal. I had gone from couch to Canada in 10 months. I am an IRONMAN.

POST-RACE:

Two incredible volunteers escorted me from the finish line. Somehow I received my IMC towel, finisher's medal and T-shirt (the correct size - how do they do it?). The ladies escorted my to the line for the massage tent per my request - they stayed with me for several minutes until they were sure that I was OK - they brought me water and some chicken soup. The chicken soup actually tasted great. I had a great massage, and I walked back to the finish line to find my wife who was standing right next to the results tent. It was sooooo good to see her. I got my congratulatory hug (over the snow fence) and I heard how proud she was of my accomplishment. After a very long day that was filled with ups and downs it was very uplifting to hear her words.

I picked up my gear bags, changed into some dry clothes, had my finishers photo taken (remember to wear your finisher's shirt and medal - they look great in the photo), I soaked my legs in a hot tub, and I waited to no avail for some pizza. I then picked up my bike and Winter and I walked back to the Rochester. My eyes felt like they had a salt shaker dumped in them - I had to squint to see anything. Winter was hungry after waiting for me for several hours so we went to the Iguana for a bite - nothing else was open at 11:00pm. Fajitas in Canada are not what I am used to - what is a tomato tortilla anyhow???? My stomach was still in an act of rebellion so I took my meal home to eat the next day. We turned on Channel 11 to watch the 17 hour finishers - there was no way that I was going to make it back to the finish line. The fireworks (like the start cannon) went off a little early. I then realized why my eyes were barely open - I was EXHAUSTED. I passed out almost immediately.

THE DAYS AFTER

I awoke on Monday feeling hungry (finally). My stomach was still a little tender, but I managed to eat.

I was happy to have completed my first IM in such difficult conditions, but I was frustrated that I had fallen apart during the race. 14 hours was much longer than what I had hoped to do.

I contemplated IMC '99. My legs hurt, my stomach still ached and I had not totalled the bills for the cost of IMC '98. I did not want to come back to Penticton again in '99. Then I thought twice - this race has the best organization and volunteers of any race that I have ever done. I want to do better than a 14 hour IM. In a month I would be ready to contemplate IMC '99, but I would not have a month to decide. I chose to submit my application for '99.

The rest of the day was a blur - finisher's merchandise, results book (Vineman and Wildflower's took about 3 months to arrive - IMC's was complete with pictures in about 10 hours), awards ceremony, shopping, packing, meeting friends, handing my bike off to Ray for the drive home. soon it was Tuesday morning and time to fly home.

Back home I evaluated the race. In Penticton, surrounded by IronVets, my finish did not look to stellar. As I reread my goals for the race and talked to non-triathletes I started thinking clearly again:

I have completed every one of my IMC '98 goals.

I am an Ironman.

I am not the same person that I was 10 months ago and I am very, very happy that I did what had to be done in order to finish.

To every IronVirgin out there - good luck training for your goals, and be sure to remember what your goals are!!!!

0 notes