#for some reason i remembered this post and felt like i needed to clarify that

[unholyxvoid]

bringing this back to say that if talking in a fancy/formal manner makes you feel more divine thats great and im glad you can express yourself in that way , but not doing so does not make you any less divine . how you talk does not matter in the slightest and does not affect what you are

saw something that irked me so to any divine beings out there; you dont have to talk all fancy and proper to be divine . not having a big vocabulary or having typing quirks or talking like a normal human does not make you any less divine . fuck anyone that says you dont seem like a divine being if you dont talk like a priest or poet . talk however you want , it doesnt change what you are . you are still divine

[taylorftparamore]

the way some of yall talk about palestinian lives is giving white saviourism. you talk about these folks like they havent been fighting back and minimize & diminish their efforts of survival. like. palestine DOES still have adults in it fighting to protect their children & their neighbors’ lives. they are passing down their culture to save their culture from destruction & begging us to uplift their voices. maybe we as westerners need to actively check how we talk about this conflict, hm?

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 5/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: IT'S YONGILITY COMEBACK!!!! Haha I'm sorry this took too long to post!! But I wasn’t feeling it y'know? I couldn’t write anyyyyything to my liking, I was like in a block mood:( but here it is. IM SORRY I gotta confess that it faces me the ick when I try to write smut HAHAHHA but some of you asked so i deliver 🙂‍↔️.

I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 6! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/ N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

When the atmosphere had changed; when the music no longer thumped in their ears and the roar of the engines was left behind, the silence was torturous in the strange scene they found themselves in.

It was rare to see Jung Jaehyun, Wong Lucas, and Mark Lee in the same place these days.

It had been almost a year since they had last properly spoken to Mark, and that last time had not been very pleasant.

Lucas preferred to bury that memory deep in his mind, where he could almost forget it; however, Jaehyun remembered it vividly… he recalled shouting, hurtful words, and maybe even a fight…

And now, being there, in Lucas's house, face to face, felt almost like a dramatic scene. Lucas could feel the strong tension between the two boys in front of him; they had been at his house for quite a while but hadn't said a word since they arrived, and it was making him nervous.

“What do you know and how do you know it?” Jaehyun blurted out harshly, his arms crossed over his chest, staring intently at Mark.

Mark let out a sigh and swallowed slowly.

Jaehyun's gaze was never easy to hold.

Talking about the incident with Winwin and everything that had happened as a result was something that still moved him, and it was hard to find just the right words.

But he had to do it.

Jaehyun needed closure as much as he did.

“After our argument that day, I really needed answers. I couldn’t see what had happened and do nothing,” he began to explain. “The nights were endless for me, I went days without sleeping, the situation with Winwin really affected me… and that’s when I found Qian Kun. He… he’s from China, like Winwin. Right now, he’s not related to any gang, but… he knows a lot of people, here and there, he has a lot of contacts. He told me he would help me find out who sent those people to Winwin’s house.”

“In exchange for what?” Lucas questioned.

“Protection,” Mark answered curtly without looking at either of the two boys in front of him. “Kun fled the gang he was part of in China… he has no support from anyone. Kun knows a lot about many people in that gang, he was one of the youngest members to join. He knows everything about them and thinks they will come looking for him one day… if they aren’t already,” he explained.

Jaehyun kept his gaze fixed on him but now with a hint of confusion.

“Why would you trust someone who fled his gang? You didn’t even know him before, the guy just showed up and offered to find all this information for you?” Jaehyun asked incredulously. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like bullshit to me,” he said to Lucas. “How do we know he isn’t lying?”

“Why should we believe you?” Lucas now questioned.

“There would be no reason for me to lie about this,” Mark clarified while still under the questioning gazes of the boys in front of him. “Kun and I have common interests.”

“What’s Kun’s story?” Lucas asked. “Why did he leave his gang to come to SM City?”

“Is that really necessary?”

“I don’t trust someone who fled their gang,” Jaehyun responded.

Mark sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “People from his gang killed his girlfriend in front of him,” he said shortly.

Lucas and Jaehyun flinched at the thought of the sight Kun must have seen, and they both kept quiet.

“They thought she was a mole. That she was selling whatever type of information she heard from Kun to their rival gang,” Mark continued. “They shot her in front of him. No second thoughts. Nothing… He was going to propose the day after that.”

Jaehyun always knew that gang life came with a lot of risks. He knew there would always be fights, threats, and in the worst-case scenario… he knew death was just around the corner. He knew he was hurt from his friend's accident, but he couldn’t imagine the kind of pain this Kun guy had felt when his girlfriend was killed right in front of him.

To know that the person you loved most… with whom you were committed to building a life together, creating something new; vanished so quickly that you couldn’t even say goodbye. To have imagined a life with that person, only to have any beautiful illusion you created in such a horrible life taken away.

Not even the good moments could be enjoyed while they were part of Neo Zone.

“That’s why he fled,” Mark continued. “The night his girlfriend was killed, Kun left the city, he couldn’t even say goodbye to her. That’s why he knows they are looking for him, they think he’s also selling information,” he finished.

“So…” Lucas cleared his throat.

“So Kun understands what it felt like when I tried to find answers as to why, why they did that to Sicheng's family. And he decided to help me, in exchange for being able to take shelter in my house and for me to provide him protection.”

“That guy is staying at your house?” Jaehyun asked incredulously.

“It’s part of the deal,” Mark replied. “Look guys, what I’m about to tell you is crucial information… and I’m not here to tell you expecting us to do something about it. I just know that you need closure just as much as I did,” he commented as he approached them.

“I don’t need closure,” Jaehyun said. “I need to make them suffer the same way Winwin has been suffering for the past year”

“There’s no way to do that,” Mark assured. “And before anything, I… I really want to apologize to you. Especially to you, Jaehyun.” Mark turned his gaze to the mentioned boy and could notice the coldness in his eyes.

“You blamed me” Jaehyun said with a deep voice. “You put the blame on me” he repeated.

“I was angry, okay? And I know that doesn’t justify anything, but I was hurt and I didn’t what to do” Mark explained.

“So was I! Do you know how many times I couldn’t sleep thinking of your words? How they may be true? How many times I tried to imagine what would have happened if I stayed with Sicheng instead of going to make that delivery? When you put the blame on me, I blamed myself day and night. The three first months I couldn’t even go to see Winwin on the hospital without thinking that was my fault. I was so angry with you, with myself that u didn’t knew if I could kept going… and when I realized that it wasn’t my fault… I told myself that I would do anything to find who did it and that I have to do the same thing to them so they would know how Winwin is feeling every passing day.”

The frustration in Jaehyun's voice was noticeable. Lucas understood his friend; after all, he was the one who had accompanied him throughout that phase. On the day of Winwin's accident, Lucas had actually lost three friends. The first, in the hospital, left to the mercy of the universe; the second, Mark, who decided to take a different path; and the third, Jaehyun, who was never the same after the situation.

Jaehyun had always been a curt person, but when the quartet of friends got together, it was as if a different air hit Jaehyun. When the four of them were together, he could feel how he himself loved joking around with them, maybe forgetting a little about his life in Neo Zone and together imagining what life would be like if their reality weren't real.

But when Mark Lee decided to change his path after blaming him for Winwin's accident, it was as if he had lost the little spark he had within him.

“I know, that’s why I’m apologizing,” murmured Mark.

“Right now, your apologies make no difference,” Jaehyun confessed.

Mark remained silent and nodded slowly, taking a moment to think things through and how the next confession could turn the whole world upside down.

His eyes moved to Jaehyun's neck, where the gang tattoos were visible, then to Lucas's body, where the same tattoo was visible on his upper arm thanks to the sleeveless shirt he wore. After swallowing hard, he could feel the heat in his abdomen, where the same mark was.

It disgusted him.

It disgusted him to think that all this was something they could never erase, in some way, and that the memory of the gang would always be with them, imprinted on their skin with no chance of disappearing.

It was as if it burned his skin.

“I just want to let you know, that after I tell you everything I know, there’s no way you can take matters into your own hands,” Mark warned. “I needed closure, knowing what caused all this might help… and I think you deserve that closure too.”

“Get to the point,” Lucas demanded, crossing his arms.

“It was Sooman,” he blurted out without hesitation. Direct and clear.

Jaehyun might have misheard, “What did you say?”

“The person who caused all this was Sooman,” he repeated firmly.

“What are you talking about? You’re crazy,” Lucas muttered.

While Jaehyun remained silent and processed the words, the image of his boss lingered in his mind. He knew Sooman was capable of many things; he had seen them himself, but there was no way he would do something like that to Sicheng’s family.

Why would he do it? If Winwin’s father was one of his best men? Who offered him more loyalty?

Mark Lee’s words simply didn’t make sense.

“I thought I told you not to mess with this,” Jaehyun threatened through gritted teeth.

“I’m telling the truth!” Mark exclaimed. “It was hard for me to understand at first too, but after going over the matter many times, it made sense.”

“Sense?” Jaehyun asked. “It makes no sense. Sooman can be many things, but why would he do that to my Uncle Dong? He was one of his most loyal men; it would be foolish of him to do something like that.”

“It may be foolish, but for someone with the power Sooman has, it doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted. “And he has enough power to have hidden this for a year.”

“Let’s go,” Jaehyun said, giving Lucas a light pat on the back. “I’m not listening to this guy any longer.”

“No matter how much you try to deny it, this is the truth, Jaehyun.”

“But why would Sooman do something like that?” Lucas now intervened.

“It took me time to understand, but by finding all the threads, I was able to piece it together. This accident isn’t the only thing he’s been responsible for,” Mark explained. “Our Uncle Dong had planned to leave the gang; I don’t know if his plan was to try to get out through Sooman or just flee,” he said. Jaehyun and Lucas looked at him confused, and he continued. “Do you remember that time when we were gathered at Jaehyun’s house and Sicheng asked if, hypothetically speaking, he moved to China, would we make the effort to visit him?”

The two boys nodded.

“Winwin already knew about his father’s plans to leave SM City,” Mark clarified. “Sooman found out about this through Cheol Uk; he thought Uncle Dong was planning a betrayal. After all, he was one of his closest men and knew more information than any of us should know,” he paused. “That led him to where he is now.”

“But why would Uncle Dong want to return to China? He left there to work for Sooman here in SM City, he had a settled life and a high position in the gang,” Lucas questioned. “Why would he leave all that to go back to the place he initially sought to escape from?”

“Uncle Dong found out many things in the last few months before he died,” Mark explained, looking at Jaehyun. “He realized that at any moment, Sooman could do to him what he had done to others…” he paused, swallowing slightly.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun inquired.

“When Sooman realizes that his best men might turn against him… he thinks it’s easier to just get rid of them,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Because that’s exactly what he did to your dad, Jaehyun.”

“What?”

That word got stuck in his throat. He could barely voice it. He wanted to understand and process what Mark had just said, but it was difficult.

It was difficult because just mentioning his dad, his mind clouded with memories of that night when his father died. He remembers seeing the blood spread all over the floor, remembers the sound of the gunshots deafening his body, and above all, remembers how much that situation changed his life.

The words didn’t process in his mind. He spent years trying to find out who had killed his father, but he took it for granted when Sooman said it had been Busan gang members.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Who did Mark Lee think he was to come with all this?

“You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up,” Jaehyun said with anger as he got closer to Mark and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Fuck this shit, Yoonoh, I’m telling you the truth,” Mark spat. “You can’t be all defensive about this shit. What I know is the truth. You wanna know all these years who did that to your pops? Well, I’m telling you, it was fucking Sooman,” Mark said close to him.

Lucas tried to pull Jaehyun back by his shoulder but couldn’t do anything.

“Sooman was the one who ordered the shooting the night you were out with your dad. And if you’re wondering why? It was because he needed to get rid of your father before he gained more power than him… that’s why he took you under his wing… because he knew he could manipulate you and make you work his way… something he couldn’t do with your dad anymore,” Mark said as he felt Jaehyun’s grip loosen on his neck until he could take a few steps back. “Something he couldn’t do with Uncle Dong either.”

Jaehyun looked him directly in the face, and his whole body shivered.

“The night of Winwin’s accident, he wasn’t supposed to be there. The attack was only meant for Uncle Dong… Sooman wanted to do to Winwin the same thing he did to you,” he explained. “That’s why in the first months of treatment, he was supporting us… he wanted to clear his name and not have us suspect him.”

Jaehyun and Lucas remained silent for a minute, then Jaehyun moved furiously and tried to leave the place.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he said through gritted teeth as he tried to head for the door, but Lucas and Mark stopped him.

“I told you I wasn’t going to tell you all this for you to do something stupid,” Mark said. “What will you do? Try to kill him? As soon as you do, they’ll put a bullet in your head.”

“I don’t give a shit; I want them to suffer the same way Winwin has suffered… the same way my father suffered,” Jaehyun explained, feeling a lump in his throat.

He couldn’t allow himself to be weak.

Not when he had discovered what he had been wanting to know for so long.

“Trying to take revenge won’t change things; if anything, it will make them worse,” Lucas said after a while.

“You couldn’t get close to Sooman even if you wanted to; you know you can’t bring him down. It’s you against a hundred other people in the gang,” Mark continued. “You wouldn’t get out alive even if you begged all the saints.”

“Why would you tell me all of this if I couldn’t do shit about it?” Jaehyun asked, breathing deeply.

“Because I know you needed answers… the same way I did,” Mark replied. “Jaehyun, I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you, but please don’t fuck it up,” he asked. “I know you’re a smart guy. Be smart and don’t get in trouble. You got your answers now, be wise with your decisions.”

The boy remained silent and looked at the whole room in front of him.

His head was going to explode if he didn't get out of there immediately. Everything was spinning, as if the moment of realization was eating him alive. He had waited for this for months, but now that he knew everything... what would change?

Now he only wanted to know the best way to take matters into his own hands.

He needed divine justice.

It was as if it were his only goal right now.

Maybe remembering the moment he had lived hours earlier with Winwin finally having a reaction was what made him think more and more about the situation.

But making a rash decision right now would be putting his life on the line.

How much did he value his life to do it?

_______________________________________________

The clock was perhaps about to strike 1:00 am. She wasn't sure. She had stopped checking the time maybe a while ago.

Her mind couldn't stop spinning around the same issue over and over again.

The issue being none other than Jaehyun.

Lying on her bed in the silence of her room, (Y/N) could hear the beats of her heart resonating in her ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She had called Jaehyun maybe fifty times by now, but her phone lay silent on her nightstand.

She wanted to understand everything. She wanted to understand Jaehyun.

But it was so difficult.

Her mind couldn't process all the events and emotions that had happened in just one day... from experiencing Winwin's reaction at the rehabilitation center, to feeling ecstatic in Jaehyun's company, only to have it all fall apart with Mark Lee's arrival.

She wanted to understand but couldn't.

What was it that Mark wanted to talk to Jaehyun about?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Perhaps her heartbeats were drowned out by the knocks on her window because she could barely react when she saw a silhouette outside.

How could Jaehyun dare to do that?

When she could finally react, her body leaped a mile a second from her bed, and when she opened the window, she could see how agitated the boy was, and without thinking twice, she threw herself against him to support him against her chest.

Jaehyun said nothing, just placed his weight on the girl's body.

He knew he had lost when seeking her comfort was necessary to get through this night.

He knew he had lost when he couldn't even finish breaking free from her embrace.

Jaehyun's head would surely explode at any moment. His whole day had been an emotional rollercoaster, everything that had happened was piling up more and more in his mind, but he didn't want to break. He couldn't allow himself to.

One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Perhaps more time had passed while they were in that position, but even though she quite liked the moment, (Y/N) had to end it.

"Come in before someone notices you're here," she murmured, pulling him inside the room.

"Are your parents home?" the boy asked quietly.

"Not yet. They went out for a 'business dinner,' but my dad's guards are still lurking around," she explained, leading him to her bed. After a few minutes of silence, she continued. "Why are you here? What happened with Mark?" she asked quietly.

Without a single word, (Y/N) could see how broken Jaehyun was at that moment.

He didn't even look her in the eyes, his hands barely able to caress hers, and his shoulders were tense.

It was strange to see him like that, and it made her want to know what had happened.

"Right now, you're the only one who can keep me on track," Jaehyun murmured.

(Y/N) swore her heart could break right then and there.

"Jaehyun? What are you talking about? What happened?" she asked, trying to catch his gaze but failing.

Jaehyun sighed. "I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to overthink it any more than I already have. I need to block all that out for a moment."

"Jaehyun..." the girl murmured. "I want to understand you."

"Please, not now."

Why was she able to bring out all his vulnerability?

And she didn't even notice when a tear fell onto her hand.

He couldn't cry. Not right now. Not in front of her.

"Jaehyun..."

"Let's not talk about it now," he murmured, placing his hand on the girl's jaw and pressing his lips to hers. "I need to forget."

He didn't know how he got to this point, but he could taste the cherry flavor of the girl's chapstick, mixed with the salty taste of the tear that had run down to his lips.

He didn't even know when the kiss had turned into an unbridled one.

He needed to free himself.

He needed to forget everything.

The girl melted into the kiss. It felt like being in the clouds, feeling Jaehyun's long hands partially caressing her body. Now, she felt familiar with Jaehyun's lips and felt safe with him.

And it felt good to see a different side of Jung Jaehyun's reality.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

(Y/N) felt euphoric when Jaehyun put his hands on her waist and helped her settle into his lap. Her body felt warm; she was sure her cheeks were red, and she believed the color would turn even redder when she let out a small moan feeling Jaehyun underneath her.

She felt a smile on her lips, and then Jaehyun's kisses moved to her neck.

"I don't know how you manage to distract me from anything out there," she said about her neck.

"Jae," she moaned slightly.

"You're gonna make me lose my shit," he said in her lips.

Jaehyun's lips moved to the girl's neck to gently stroke the area, his hands on her waist made the grip deeper and brought her even closer to him. Making her moan again.

"My parents could arrive at any moment," she said, with her head back and her eyes closed. Passing her hands through Jaehyun's hair and playing with it.

Jaehyun removed his lips from the girl's neck and turned to look at her with a loving smile.

"Tell me to stop right now if you want to," he asked with a dazed look while returning his kisses to the girl's neck, leaving them marked there.

The girl tightened her hands on the boy's hair and moaned.

"I need to hear it from your words, beautiful baby," Jaehyun asked.

(Y/N) moved her hands to Jaehyun's jaw and pulled him closer to give him a chaste kiss.

She shook her head and smiled. "I don't want you to stop now or ever," she assured him.

Jaehyun moved his hand to the girl's leg and maneuvered her position until she lay on her back on the bed, with Jaehyun over her and caressing every part of her body.

The pajama shirt that was placed over her torso disappeared after a few seconds, and the words got stuck in her mouth when Jaehyun gently touched her breasts.

She couldn't think of anything other than the man in front of her.

Doing everything. Touching everything. Loving everything.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Jae~ please~" she asked between moans.

"Please, what baby?"

"Please touch me. Anywhere. Just don't stop" she said.

Jaehyun smiled slightly, taking her little short off and leaving her all exposed to Jaehyun's mercy.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when his digits started to make their way towards her sensitive bundle of nerves. (Y/N) whined when he put more pressure in the spot, making her buck her hips towards him, provoking a smile in Jaehyun's face.

And it was then when he coated his middle and index finger with his saliva and slows inserted his fingers into her. She gasped at the stretch and her hands went to take a grab on her sheets not being able to word something out thanks to the incoherent moans she was letting out.

"Yeah baby, keep moaning like that" he asked dumbfounded.

He pulled (Y/N) into a heated kiss while he kept finger-fucked her, keeping his rhythm making her even wetter as every thrust from his fingers was made.

She could swear she could see stars just by the way his fingers entered her every passing second. She is unable to voice a praise for Jaehyun, but she thinks he doesn't care, because it looks like he prefers moans and whines.

"You look to fucked out and it's just been my fingers" he said kissing her neck and then going straight for her breasts.

She tried to adjust her legs more so he can have more accessibility to her entrance and that gives him the green light to keep with everything. So his pace became faster and harder. His fingers were coming in and out reaching a sensitive spot inside of her. Sensitive enough to be close to cumming.

"Fuck, Jae... 's getting too much" she said bucking her hips towards his fingers and the hand that Jaehyun had free was in her abdomen trying to pin her to the bed.

A strangled moan escaped her mouth and the knot in her stomach was getting tighter.

She can barely see the smile Jaehyun had in his face, but when she was so close to cum, he took out his fingers, to lick all of her arousal up and then kissing her.

"You're so pretty" he worded. "Even so dumbfucked like this" he clean the sweat in her forehead while smiling. "I'm gonna make you feel so good"

"Yes, Jae?" She smiled. "Gonna make me feel good?"

"So good baby, you won't be able to word something out"

The heat of the night was making her feel like she was in cloud nine. So that's why her hands sneakily found the waistband of his jeans; tugging the material of the way trying to get a hold of his dick but Jaehyun stopped her grabbing her hand and taking matters in his own hands and taking his jeans off along with his underwear releasing his throbbing cock. (Y/N) hands went straight to palm his dick and draw a line in one of the prominent veins that were situated in his hardness.

"Baby, could you spread those pretty legs for me?" (Y/N) did as she was told so and spread her legs just for Jaehyun be able to position between them. She liked how Jaehyun could be so vocal while she just was a mess under him, Jaehyun dick twitched just at he sight of her being so ready to have him, looking all pretty underneath him and then he didn't waste any more time as he took his cock in his hand to line up his tip in her dripping cunt.

They both let out moans as he pushed forward until she was filled up. His eyes were looking right to the middle of both of them, watching greedy the way his dick disappeared into her entrance. Just as it was made for him to fill up.

"God, Jaehyun...i feel so full" she whined as she rolled her eyes and started letting out messy moans.

"Y'a feel me in there, pretty girl?" He asked as he put his hand on her stomach seeing the bulk that was there.

"Yes Jae! You're so deep"

Hearing that was enough to Jaehyun to lose his mind and pulled his hips back, dragging so slowly his tip along her sensitive walls and then smack his hips, burying his entire girth inside of her cunt with a messy moan.

His pace was like that the next minutes. Reporting his motion over and over again, leaving some kisses here and there while he got a grip in her hips trying to keep her in place when he slammed his cock so deep in her.

Jaehyun was just too pussydrunk that he had to start pound into her sopping cunt to keep him sane. "Gonna fill you up. So hard. You'll only think of me the rest of your life"

"Fuck yes. Want that, want that so bad"

She didn't think Jaehyun could go harder, but she was wrong, because the moment she mouthed that word out, the pace of his hips were insane, slamming so good all the way up to her cervix making her let the most filthiest moans he could ever hear. He reached out her clit with one of her hands and started to play with it to make her cum.

She didn't know how she could last this longer but it was enough when Jaehyun slammed into an specific point that she just lost it. She let out a strangled moan and she gripped his shoulders as her life dependent on it. She saw white flashed light the moment she came, feeling all of her arousal coat Jaehyun's coat as he fucked her drip into her. A couple of thrust more were enough for Jaehyun to release his seed into her, letting a grunt out and steady himself.

"You did such a great job baby" he whispered as he moved himself to lay beside her and embrace her in his arms. He looked to her sleepy eyes and wiped some of her sweat out of her forehead to then let a small kis in there. "Such a pretty baby"

Being too worked out to speak, she rested her head into his chest to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the sweet kisses Jaehyun was leaving in her head and zoning out.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Possibly now the clock was approaching 4:00 am. Jaehyun hadn't been able to sleep at all.

After the euphoria had subsided from his body... The events of the previous day returned to terrorize his mind.

He lightly caressed (Y/N)'s shoulder as his head spun. What could he do? What would he do? Even with the faint light entering through the window of the room, he could observe the space around him; he swore that the girl's room was three times larger than his own living room. He wanted to take a look around at his surroundings and noticed that everything there was much more expensive than he could ever afford.

The room's atmosphere was far more than he was used to.

Much more than he could fit into.

Realizing all of this in such a short time was like a slap in the face to himself.

Because he never deserved (Y/N), no matter how much he wanted to.

And he didn't want to drag another person into a hole they couldn't escape from.

Mark's words echoed in his head, and Qian Kun's story ended up burning him... Because if he continued with all this... would (Y/N) end up like Kun's girlfriend? Like his father? Like Winwin?

Just thinking about it made him feel an overwhelming urge to vomit.

But what an unjust life.

Didn't he even have the right to love?

Jaehyun couldn't hide his past and erase his present. If he wanted to do it, he had to face it, but... How could he confront Sooman if he couldn't come out of it alive?

How could he say goodbye to what was embracing him right now?

But if he wanted the justice he needed... He had to do it, even if it cost him something precious, he had to do it.

Even so, there was no way he could fulfill anything that (Y/N) wanted.

They didn't live in the same reality, and it wouldn't end well for either of them.

So, giving one last look at the sleeping girl beside him, he managed to get out of bed and gather his things to dress as quietly as possible... walk towards the window and see her one last time before fleeing from there.

No explanation. No farewell.

Not knowing if it was the last time they would meet in life.

And he regretted it so much.

a/n: I hope you liked even though in took me weeeeeeks to post hahaha, love y’all! NOT PROOFREAD!

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr (idk why some of the tags just doesn’t work out! 😔)

If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them here!

[mrsmangi]

hi!!

i js realized and UGH I FEEL SO STUPID BUT i realized how much of an impact fanficiton can actually dent to the whole "some people are forgetting luigi's inspo and purpose and the whole crux of this situation" im not sure if it is disrespectful that's why i wanted to run it by to u guys but we can totally bring things to perspective on luigi's current conditions. how scared he is, how ignorant MEDIA is in general, we can totally do it and honestly we already are!! most of the fanfictions ive read are raising awareness about the struggles of going through traumatic surgeries, making people feel seen about injuries they had that are similar to luigi's!! i just want to clarify that im not saying that EVERYTHING we choose to write to be apart of this community must be sort of tasked to carry the weight of the world at all times and have this altruistic can-do attitude about it. what im saying is that we all require something real even if it is in our fantasies - real as in something that is close to us as humans and ive realized that there is always and forever will be a certain standing that we take against oppressors that quote and quote "work in the shadows - making them systems of cowardice" most importantly ive noticed that us as a community loves fanfiction that humanizes luigi - we live vicariously through the name of "y/n" and that is just us feeling human and through this fandom we create a community an institution with a base for smart thinkers and creative writers i think luigi has inspired a lot of people and it is important to note that people especially creators - those who know they belong or has hosted a blog or whatever type of creative craft of their that hones their skills are easily touched by topics that wake them up and inspire them - those are topics that are hard to forget

so i just wanted to share this message! and im sending this as Phoenix (pseudonym) to my favorite luigi writers, you guys dont have to respond politically or feel pressured to completely agree with what im saying i mean im still learning and im def a minor exposed to media so of course i am subject to multiple errors! i just felt the need to say it and im too shy to post it on my actual tumblr..

clarification: i really dont mean this as an attack or as a self-righteous claim :(( i sent this to you because i adore you and ur writing, how u see the world, how u contribute to this fandom, and how u make us feel dare i say... one with the one we are reading about!! im sorry if i said anything bad or insensitive or just offending in any way!! dont be pressured to reply to this i just realized that it's important for me to share my voice even if i think it doesnt matter because it might matter to others who would like to read it

by the way!! i got these ideas a lot from a book called the message by ta nehisi coates!! if you love writing you'd love this book for sure :))

i really dont mean to offend and i apologize for the long message my love!! i hope you have a great day please drink water and stay safe!!

hi, gorgeous! first of all, there’s nothing to feel stupid about! please know, in my blog, i am always open to having ur guys’ perspectives on luigi (or anything, really!), so for that i thank u for sharing it!

i rly appreciate your passion for the community and for raising awareness about luigi’s story. i completely agree that fanfiction can be a powerful tool to connect with his experiences and to humanize him, but i’ll admit, i’ve also found myself hesitant at times to write about him for similar reasons.

to me, there’s a fine line between exploring his story and romanticizing him in a way that might overshadow the real, political, and lawful consequences he’s currently facing. it’s important for everyone to remember that luigi is NOT a perfect person. i don’t mean it in a bad way, i just mean that like all of us, he has flaws. he is not a fictional character. he’s a living, breathing, and currently incarcerated human being. but personally, i believe those flaws are what make him such an interesting and complex character to write about. in my most recent work, “found,” i rly tried to balance that idea. while fiction lets writers create beautiful and romantic things, we can’t forget the reality of his situation or replace it with fantasy.

we should never sugarcoat the situation luigi is going through. i actively do my best to not do so either. i find his darker, more flawed aspects to be what makes his story so compelling, and i think that grounding my writing in that reality helps me explore him in a way that feels more authentic.

i appreciate you sharing your thoughts on this, and i encourage you to keep researching, reflecting, and learning. i’ll def do my best to do the same, and i’m so glad to see how deeply this community values meaningful discussions like this.

i see you and i hear you. 💕🫶🏼

[eddiessluttywaist]

as if (part 4 based on angst ending)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: continuation of the angst ending of as if, moves away from how eddie has been acting just so you know 👀

pairing: ex-bully!mean!perv!soft!eddie munson x fem reader

word count: 10,964 words

content/warnings: swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18/19), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, brief threats and violence, rejection, angsttt, depression, very brief mention of unhealthy eating habits, heartbreak, yearning, anxiety, arguing, crying, near death experience, regret, isolation and loneliness. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i’m sorry this took me so long skbvdjkk enjoy the suffering. credit to whoever owns/posted that picture ^ it’s not mine :)

part one - part two - start of part three - angst ending to part three

*

Eddie Munson is an asshole.

He’s a cruel heartbreaker, that’s for sure. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He’s ruined love for you.

As much as that sentiment reeked of teenage melodrama, it’s still true. He’s ruined mean guys for you cause you know what to expect from them, and he’s ruined sweet guys for you cause you know better than to know what to expect. Eddie is someone who finds a way to be so sweet and charming for that subtle kind of control, just to turn out to be an asshole through and through. Every nicety and moment of tenderness was only to keep you on the hook for a good fuck; and if things hadn’t spiraled into an apocalyptic shitshow, he would’ve been the one and only reason for your aching misery.

He’s a lot of things. You could go through a list of adjectives that would make your mother gasp and cross herself.

He’s a life ruiner in so many ways—but he isn’t a killer.

Despite how he treated you, you liked to think you still had a good sense of his heart—even if he refused to give it to you the way you would’ve so readily given him yours. He’s smug and rotten, but murder is not something he’s capable of. Some violence? Probably. Maybe. Given the right circumstances. But he wouldn’t kill someone. So you were one of the few who weren’t surprised when news came out that he wasn’t to blame for everything that happened. Sure, there were still plenty of kooks who remained certain that he used his “ties with Satan” to open up a portal to Hell, but as more and more came out about that lab near the quarry—the rarer those types became.

By now nearly everyone’s forgotten about him, or at least that’s how it felt to you. No one talked about him—they didn’t even seem to think about him—but not you. Despite everything, his memory seemed to live on in your head. On repeat some days.

Just to clarify: he didn’t die. His memory didn’t need to be kept alive because he wasn’t—he was pretty damn close when he was found (at least from what you’ve heard), but he wasn’t dead. However, that didn’t change the fact that the people of Hawkins liked to act like he was. He was nowhere to be found for starters, and everyone left in town seemed to appreciate things that way so they didn’t have to address him.

The turnaround was baffling to you. How his name never even came up, and when it did people grew uncomfortable and tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. Even you—someone who decidedly hated his guts months before the day Chrissy Cunningham was found dead—thought he deserved something better than becoming a banned topic after what this town put him through.

You could remember the day he appeared on the news like it was yesterday.

You had been curled up on one corner of the couch of the living room, your mother on the other end, and your father in his La-Z-Boy. It was pitch black in the room with the only light source being the colorful and fuzzy glow of the television. It was unfortunately your mom’s night to watch her program so of course you and your dad were already half asleep by the time her show was suddenly interrupted.

“What the-!” your mom had gasped. “I wanna know what happens! Oh those darn news… people…”

She had trailed off as the reality of the emergency newscast sunk in, no longer reaching for the remote but settling back into her spot instead.

You didn’t really know Chrissy. She was popular and well-loved, and had hundreds of friends. You definitely weren’t one of them, though. Whether it was secretly too beneath her deep down in her innocent demeanor, or if you simply weren’t interested in gravitating around her enough for her to truly take notice of you. She was a sweet girl though. She was a senior like you and the few times you two interacted, she was nothing but kind. And even if she hadn’t been, she still wouldn’t have deserved what happened to her.

You remember your mother nervously toying that necklace she always wore as she watched the news with big eyes. The way your dad sat up more and gave the screen his full attention. The tension and anxiety that made the air in the living room feel heavy; and when you thought your throat couldn’t get any drier and your heart couldn’t race any faster—Eddie’s picture was plastered on the television.

You remember the way your hearing seemed to turn into a faint buzz as the newscaster spoke of the victim’s body being found in his trailer.

“I always knew that boy was trouble.” your dad grumbled out, and you had to fight the urge to huff out a laugh and tell him he had no idea.

Neither of them knew what happened between you two or that there was even a “you two” to begin with. And you certainly wouldn’t have said anything that night because then they’d know in the worst way possible. Admitting it back then at the start of Spring Break would’ve been admitting how deeply you had fallen for someone who was possibly wanted for murder.

Even if it was never explicitly stated that Eddie Munson had shattered your heart (when you were completely falling apart just a couple months before your hometown did the same) your mom had been quick to notice something was wrong. Motherly instincts or something like that—or, y’know, just the fact that you were visibly a mess.

Even at that start of it all you didn’t want to talk about that one particularly miserable day. You would wait until it was late at night to cry into your pillow. You had briefly lost some weight since the whole situation had left you with a solid knot in your stomach, leaving you horribly nauseous and deadening your appetite. The fact that you were constantly lying about being sick to avoid school was what truly confirmed your mom’s concerns.

Sure, you could’ve had a stomach bug. Maybe that’s why you had been picking at your food at dinner. Maybe that’s why you looked so pale and tired all the time. But then throughout the school week you would keep saying you were sick, and with the state you were in she didn’t have the heart to tell you your temperature was perfectly normal. Besides, you never skipped so she wasn’t all that suspicious at first so she let you stay home. You kept lying, though, and she finally felt she had to ask if something was going on at school.

You remember that time when boy problems still mattered so vividly. When Eddie Munson was still a mentionable name, even if you didn’t act like it. When your mom was checking in on you because of him and because her main concern was still little nuances in your behavior.

“Is something going on at school?” your mom had murmured softly as she sat on the edge of your bed.

It was nighttime and the only light in your room was the faint and warm glow of your bedside table, giving a false sense of comfort to the room that was filled with memories of him. Some spots of your room still smelled like him—especially by the window where he would sneak in, and sit on to smoke. It felt like cold spots in a haunted house to you.

“Is someone not treating you right?”

“No, mom, really. I just don’t feel well.” you murmured, and she can’t help but notice how dry your lips look. That little scab where you had been anxiously biting and picking at the skin there—a bad habit that only ever flared up when you were distraught, even as a child. You certainly looked ill, but her instincts were pointing elsewhere. She insisted you drink some of the water on your bedside table before she continued.

“Well…” she had sighed, smoothing out the blanket resting over you. “Is… is it a boy?”

You remember feeling your heart temporarily stop before lodging itself in your throat. You tried to ignore that burning feeling as you avoided breaking down and confirming her worries. But fighting it off didn’t mean that lump wasn’t in your throat. It didn’t mean your face didn’t get all warm as tears began to prick at your eyes. You were oddly silent as you kept your gaze down and shook your head. You were sure you could’ve held those tears in too, but then she got you to crack with a couple simple words.

“Oh honey…” She murmured and pulled you into her for a hug.

You didn’t want to tell anyone. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t even embarrassing—it was humiliating, mortifying. So you weren’t expecting how relieving it was to sob and finally let someone know, even if you didn’t go into detail.

“I thought he really cared about me d-deep down-“ you had wailed as your mom shushed you in a caring manner and rubbed your back.

You still appreciate the fact that she didn’t push. She didn’t urge you to tell her everything, she just let you cry until you were spent and she left to soak a face towel in cool water so she could press it to your flushed cheeks. She held you and murmured reassuringly, especially when you spoke up again—your voice horribly broken.

“I-It’s not fair because he’s perfectly fine and I… I’m…” you choked up after your tone got high with emotion before crumbling again.

“I know, honey, I know… it’s never fair…” she whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay. It feels like the end of the world now, but before you know it it’ll be a little bit better, okay?”

She had pulled back to look at you and wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “And then it’ll be better after that, and even more after that. You’re going to keep healing, I promise.”

In hindsight she wasn’t wrong, but there had still been so many days where you wished Eddie Munson would turn up dead for what he did to you. And now you felt horribly guilty for those thoughts after he had been so close. Even though you still despise him deep down, you hate yourself a little bit too. For letting him in, in the first place. For falling in love and for admitting it. For falling apart because he didn’t feel the same. For wishing he would drop dead.

And there was another thing that burned away at you. Right next to the fact that no one mentioned Eddie, was the frustrating fact that Jason was still talked about and practically canonized. There were portraits of him and Chrissy in local churches and in Hawkins High and sure maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but why wasn’t anyone talking about how he put fire under that ridiculous manhunt? To urge everyone to find Eddie and do who knows what to him?

Steadily approaching a year since Hawkins broke open, you’re scowling as you walk past that portrait of him in school. Having to repeat your senior year after the disaster threw everyone’s educational progress off the rails, you had to deal with that picture a lot. You turn your gaze elsewhere as you head to your last class of the day, and even that little glimpse of his image sparks up memories of his crazed state.

*

Jason had an inexhaustible vengeance, and refused to let anything—or anyone—get in his way. He had to find Eddie. He had to make him pay.

You didn’t know it at the time, but he had been hunting down Eddie’s closest friends and band mates to get information out of them. That’s how he found you.

“Where is he?” Jason shouted in Gareth’s face as he gripped him by the lapels of his cut up flannel.

“I don’t know!”

“Where is he!?”

“I don’t know!” Gareth insisted before Jason hit him again.

While a restrained Jeff shouted at him to leave his friend alone, Jason tossed him into his drums. A cymbal crashed while the set dispersed in different directions and Gareth was left lying on the floor of his garage.

“It’s gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!” Jason rose his voice again, holding Gareth down by his back and crushed his hand between his sneaker and the concrete floor. There was an audible crunch as Gareth cried out in pain.

“Dustin!”

“What?”

“Dustin Henderson!”

“What?” Jason repeated, urging him to clarify.

“Dustin Henderson!” Gareth shouted again, face twisting in pain. “Man h-he was- he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him! Maybe he found him!”

“See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Jason taunted, but kept pressing his foot onto Gareth’s hand before finally stepping away.

“O-or y/n maybe, I don’t know.” Gareth cried out, cradling his hand that was pulsing with pain.

“Who?” Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked back at him.

Jeff spoke up for him, repeating your name in a panic.

“Y-yeah maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her around him in a while, b-but I caught them fooling around in Eddie’s van once,” Jeff rambled on “And he was constantly messing with her. He… he might be with her. Or she might know.”

The more he thought about it, the more Jason remembered the occasional moment where he would see Eddie tossing things at you in class or pushing up against you in gym. Back in the car, Andy and Patrick chimed in with other things they witnessed. Eddie feeling you up. Eddie shoving you or knocking your books out of your hands. Eddie harassed you constantly. Maybe even being tutored by you (according to Andy). If you couldn’t join them through a mutual hatred for the metalhead, maybe you could at least be forced to give more information—especially if you had some fucked up relationship.

*

You were home alone despite your mother’s insistence to join her or your father at work. With two deaths and a possible killer still on the loose, she wasn’t wild about you being by yourself. You convinced her you could take care of yourself, especially with all the baseball bats and heavy golf clubs she kept around just in case.

Considering everything, you shouldn’t have opened the front door when someone rang, but you were so shocked to spot Jason Carver through your peephole to think about it. You weren’t impressed, even when he flashed you his best smile. You were just curious why he was here.

“Well, I’ll be quick. I’m sure you have better things to do.” he said with a soft laugh which you were sure he thought was charming. You just kept scowling.

“Yeah. I do,” you said bluntly and there was a flash of anger across his face for a moment before he filtered it through a weaker smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to know if you have any idea where Eddie Munson is.”

You can’t help but scoff at this.

“No, and I really don’t care about where he could be.”

You’re about to close the door, but he was quick to speak up again and keep your attention.

“I heard you tutor him-“

“Not anymore. Too difficult.” You interrupted, and he faltered for a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure. I know how he treated you. It… it’s horrible really.” He spoke softly and you hesitated for a moment, hand still on the edge of your door.

But then you realized something.

If he knew, then where had he been? Why didn’t he do anything? Even if you didn’t want anyone to interfere—not really. Not to mention after he broke your heart and all ties were cut, Eddie surprisingly let up on the constant harassment. It wasn’t fun anymore. Soon enough he had been avoiding you in the halls as much as you had been avoiding him, but that didn’t mean everything before that never happened. If Jason really took notice of your interactions, where had he been?

“I could tell even then just from how he acted with you that he wasn’t a good person. He’s not a good person. He’s a killer, and he can’t be out here loose in Hawkins ready to claim another victim.”

You stare at him in silence. Your lack of response is clearly testing his patience and he’s parting his lips to speak up again, but you cut him off.

“Why now?”

“What?” Jason laughed this off casually.

“Why now are you suddenly so interested in how he used to treat me?”

“Oh, well I-”

“No,” you interrupted bluntly at your swift decision and with no room for fluff. No matter how much you hated Eddie. “I’m not here for your senseless propaganda. Thanks.”

You went to slam the door, but he kept it open. It touches on a memory of Eddie doing something similar once upon a time to get to you while you were all alone in your bedroom. The only difference is this isn’t Eddie, and Jason is really starting to scare you.

You glance over to see the concern on Lucas Sinclair’s face—you recognized him from the occasional interactions he had with Eddie and then from all the excitement of that recent basketball game he won for the high school team. He was behind Jason, a little off to the side and you spotted the car in the driveway with a few others inside. The fact that he had others with him didn’t exactly comfort you.

“I just want to know where that freak is, okay?” Jason clarified with a smile as if it covered the fact that he was clearly unstable. You could see it in his eyes.

“It’s dangerous with him out there. I’m just trying to help my community.”

“Whatever, Jason. Like I said: I’m not interested in any of this. I don’t talk to Eddie anymore. I don’t know where he fucked off to.”

“I know you’re screwing him. Just tell me where your creep boyfriend is.”

This sudden flash of anger and the contents of his accusation shocked you, but you didn’t let it force your guard down.

“I’m not with him like that. Like I said: I don’t fucking talk to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jason still wasn’t budging, and you’re suddenly grateful for your mom’s incessant worrying when he took a step forward. You grabbed the metal bat your parents kept by the door right as he’s parting his lips to continue speaking.

“Get off my doorstep. Get away from me. Or I’m using this, Carver, I swear to god.”

This made him hold his hands up in defense and start to back off again, especially as Lucas murmured a swift “C’mon, man, maybe we should just leave her alone.” A sad excuse for a kind smile curved up the corners of the blond’s mouth. It made you sick.

“Just trying to take care of my community. No need to get violent… I’m one of the good guys. If you’re sure you don’t know anything—I’ll leave you be.”

“Well I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” You snap, gripping the handle of the bat a bit tighter.

He finally started to walk off with an okay okay, but then he turned to look at you one more time.

“Be smart about which side you’re choosing.”

At that, you slammed your front door and locked it. One of the good guys, you think with a scoff. Yeah, sure.

*

Currently on your walk home, your mind is still swirling with memories of last year. You understood the need to commemorate and show respect, but the constant reminders didn’t help to move on. You hated being here. You couldn’t wait to graduate and move as far away as possible. You wanted to forget about Hawkins. You wanted to forget about Eddie Munson. You wanted to forget how close the world had been to ending.

You happen to glance up as you walk towards your house when your steps become hesitant at the sight of someone sitting on your doorstep. It was no jock ready to berate you. It certainly wasn’t Eddie.

It was none other than Nancy Wheeler.

*

Eddie was miserable.

Actually, it was beyond just misery. He couldn’t even think of a word to describe everything he had been through and everything he was actively going through—whether that was because he always failed vocab tests due to lazy disinterest or because such a word just didn’t exist. The whole experience took a lot out of him—quite literal chunks out of his body, not just emotionally.

Besides those who had become closest to him, once everyone was focused on the next suspect no one bothered to check back in with him. No one apologized for literally hunting him down with plans of… god, he didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they caught him.

After being resuscitated, he had to be holed up in some secure room of a nearby hospital while he recovered since Hawkins Memorial Hospital was too risky for him. As the days in the hospital went by painfully and with more and more news on Hawkins turning up on the small TV of his room, he wondered if karma was a real thing. He narrowly escaped death and an arrest for a murder he didn’t commit (really the only thing saving his ass coming from the insistence of his uncle and Chief Hopper when he randomly appeared back in Hawkins). It certainly made a guy think about what he’s done.

In fact, all the isolation gave him far too much time to think. Watching the news; constantly pressing the morphine button even though he knew it wouldn’t give him more; falling into pits of depression where sometimes he wished they never brought him back—those thoughts of karma came up. He would eventually brush them off as hippie garbage, but memories of you were sounding off like an alarm in his head. It wasn’t hippie garbage. The concept held some real truth to it, and he knew he deserved everything that happened after he had been so cruel to you because of some stupid, childish need for distance from any sort of vulnerability.

After realizing that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was stuck in Hell on earth with aching wounds he wished would heal faster and memories of a girl he should’ve treated better. He regretted how things ended, and wondered what it would be like right now if he hadn’t ended things with such brutal carelessness. You’d probably be right by his side and making it easier to get through. And when he thought about how much better it would be to heal with you here, something ached deep inside him that even morphine couldn’t touch. He missed something he never let himself have, and certainly didn’t deserve by this point. He knew what kinds of things mattered now, and it didn’t even make a difference because as much as it changed things for him that didn’t mean it changed things for you.

Then one night, it dawned on him that you might not even be alive.

He was sweating from all the pain and the drugs and the heat of mid September of ‘86, when it occurred to him that you could be gone. Having already established a constant pattern of thoughts that revolved around you, it wasn’t surprising that he was up at 2 AM with you on his mind but that intrusion to his pleasant memories or self-loathing put him into a panic. You could be dead quickly turned into you are dead, and he couldn’t handle it. How could he deserve to live, but you didn’t? Maybe because you deserved mercy and he didn’t. Either way, he ignored his crying nerves and scrambled for the walky talky on his bedside table.

He tried just about every channel he was allowed to use, but no one was picking up. Maybe they were sleeping, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group suffering from insomnia after everything that happened. Still, he wasn’t granted the peace of a response and he had to lay there just hoping for a chance to make things better—and worry that he wouldn’t get to.

*

The group that helped him through that horrific Spring break came to visit him when they were able to. It was typically at random, with the occasional stop at his request for certain food or begging for a distraction before he went insane. Lucas was the first one to answer when he tried the radio again early that morning, and he soothed Eddie’s anxiety with the promise of stopping by.

With Max in the hospital and still no signs of coming back, Lucas had his own need for a distraction. He trudged into the dull room Eddie was stuck in, and settled into the chair kept by the bed.

“Is she alive?”

Lucas blinked, wondering if maybe he missed something in his own fog of exhaustion and despair. Really it was because Eddie blurted out in mid-thought without the courtesy of some background, but he still grew frustrated with him. His face bunched up as he briefly bared his teeth in that split second of muted rage. One of his hands made a fist before he unfurled it to rub at his face and shake his head.

“Y/n. Y/n, Sinclair—jesus christ—is she alive?”

Lucas parted his lips and then closed them again, tired eyes staring over at the metalhead as he tried to get his mind to cooperate. Eddie nearly cracked over the hesitation, taking it as a sign that Lucas was struggling to tell him that you were gone rather than trying to remember who you were and if he had seen you around.

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” he finally murmured and a heavy sigh exhaled from Eddie’s lungs. “I’ve seen her around school. She’s alive.”

“Jesus chr—she’s okay?” Eddie was rubbing his palms over his face again, bangs partially sticking up when he pulled his hands away to gesture with energy he didn’t have to spend.

“Yeah, man, she’s okay. I think—I-I don’t really talk to her, but she isn’t injured.”

Eddie sat with that for a moment, relieved that you were alive and at least fine physically, but his eyes were still sad. Lucas joined him in this bubble of misery, the silence tugging him back to thoughts of Max until Eddie finally popped the bubble again.

“Did… did she join everyone? Y’know in the Great Hunt for the Freak?” he let out a partial laugh, but it was hollow.

“No, she didn’t buy it.” Lucas shrugged and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.

His eye stung for a moment, watered and then returned to normal. After that fight in the old Creel house, his eye was never truly the same. It healed enough that it wasn’t swollen and bruised, but it was still sensitive and it watered more often. Whenever it did, it made him think of that night and he felt as if he was being punched all over again. It made him think of Max. It made him think of Jason.

Although with the topic on you, remembering Jason made him laugh a little—a soft, amused chuckle breaking through his sorrow.

“Jason actually went to her house. I… I was still with him at that point,” Lucas flicked his gaze up at Eddie with guilt before looking back down. “He wanted to interrogate her about you. See if you were hiding with her or if she hated you enough to join him.”

Eddie swallowed, brows frowning as he waited for him to continue.

“She uh… she threatened him with a baseball bat.” Lucas laughed a bit more wholeheartedly this time.

Eddie’s head sunk back a bit in surprise, big doe eyes even wider and brows raised in disbelief. He said your first name to clarify and even though Lucas nodded, he said your full name with that same questioning tone.

“She threatened Jason Carver with a baseball bat?”

You were meek if nothing else, and as Eddie knew you—you were easy to break. Easy to bend and mold so he never considered the possibility that you were strong. That you could take care of yourself, and you weren’t as weak as you looked. But maybe it was fitting. You appeared delicate and fragile, but were tougher than you looked. Whereas he had that rough n tough, bad boy act just for it to fall apart when he found himself scrambling away from danger. He just hoped he wasn’t the reason you were surprisingly resilient—that maybe it was always there and he just never noticed.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t back off and she said she’d do it if he didn’t leave,” Lucas snickered a bit before his mood was sobered by the other side of this memory. “She uh… she was scared. He was scaring her, and I don’t blame her. He was scaring all of us…”

He was focused on his hands now, toying with them anxiously and he could hear the sigh of Eddie’s puffy hospital pillow as he settled back against it. He was letting it all sink in, and for a moment he wished he was the one to kill Carver instead of the cracking earth. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, and you didn’t deserve Jason’s intimidation tactics just because you had been caught up with the likes of him.

He hated that you had been scared, he hated that it was his fault, and he hated how much worse he felt now that he knew that you stood up for him even after everything he put you through. Maybe not so much stood up for him, but you didn’t let yourself get dragged into the accusations and mob mentality even if you had every reason to.

This hurt worse somehow, and he was bound to a new bout of pain and suffering.

*

“I just miss her, I guess…” Eddie admitted to his uncle once the topic turned to you. He felt the urge to repent and voice how badly he wished you were with him right now, and his uncle was the only one he felt safe admitting all of this to.

“The girl that you were spending time with at home?” His uncle’s gruff voice wondered, and Eddie was taken aback by the question.

All he said was there was a girl he had a thing with, which he messed up royally, and he wished he could have another chance. Nothing else, so he looked like a fish out of water now and his uncle chuckled at his reaction.

“I may not be the smartest man around, but I’m not stupid,” he grumbled out, sat in the same chair Lucas had been. “I was aware of your uh… activities.”

Wayne scratched at his stubble, embarrassed to acknowledge just exactly what his adult nephew had been up to—just as mortified as Eddie was over having to discuss sex with his uncle.

“I found her panty things stuck to the inside of the dryer,” Wayne explained further. “And I ran into her one morning when I had just come home from the plant.”

You had been leaving Eddie’s room to use the bathroom early in the morning, not realizing he would be home from a shift. You hoped that with how tired he looked that he would think it was all a weird dream or maybe that he was seeing things. After all, you were back in that room in a flash. Fast enough to be a fleeting ghost, but he saw you and he clearly remembered you. Eddie was grumbling something to himself now about you being careless enough to get him caught, but Wayne was quick to shut this down. He wasn’t known to raise his voice, and he still really didn’t, but his tone was harsher now.

“No—don’t you go blaming that girl cause you insisted on keeping her a secret. Christ, boy—you know, I thought I taught you better.”

Of all the things he could say, this was the worst. I thought I taught you better. Eddie wished he could shrink down to nothing, and he looked down at his hands in shame.

“You should’ve treated her better. That’s on you.”

“Yeah…” Eddie laughed out bitterly “You have no idea…”

Eddie sighed now, hiding his face behind his palms.

“I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know how I thought that kind of shit was important,” He rips his hands away to jerk them outwards in an exasperated gesture and looks over at this uncle. “It was fun a-and then it was too serious and I just— I— and now I don’t know why I was thinking like that.”

“Well,” his uncle started after a pause to think it over. “you may have been a grown man in the eyes of the law, but that doesn’t mean you were thinking like one. You’re still young. I…I’d like to think you would’ve learned these kinds of thing at a regular pace as you grew up, but—shit—between your parents and especially after all this-”

Wayne gestured out into the air with little energy to his casual motion.

“You’re forced into adulthood. That’s what shit like this does…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Eddie finally admits in a rush after a moment of considering his uncles words. He was sure they had some truth to them, but he thought maybe his uncle was giving him too much credit. “I really cared for her— I still really care for her. I was just… I was being-“

“Stupid? Childish?”

“Yeah, yeah okay- geez,” Eddie sighs and looks down at his hands to pick at his nails. “Yeah… all of that…”

“Well… maybe if she really means that much to ya, then be honest. Try again. Really put some elbow grease into it, and maybe—if you’re lucky—she’ll forgive you.”

Eddie scoffs out a miserable laugh and gestures around him in a way that’s far more animated than when his uncle did it.

“Yeah. Cause I’m clearly so lucky.”

*

What made all of this worse was the fact that he couldn’t even reach out for months.

Being hidden away didn’t only mean a different hospital picked out by Hopper. It also meant no calls, no letters—nothing. He couldn’t risk being found by anyone who was still convinced he was guilty. Eddie insisted it calmed down enough to come back and he had healed enough for it, but Hopper was hesitant and ultimately unyielding.

“It’s bullshit. You guys even said no one mentions me anymore, and it’s not like I’m a suspect.” Eddie ranted to Nancy during her visit, Steve somewhere else in the hospital looking for food.

“I know, but you’ll still stand out right now,” she reasoned. “If you come back, it could stir something up again.”

“What, so I never go back? I have to uproot my whole shitty life because of rumors?”

“Eddie-“ she sighed.

“No, it’s shit. It’s all shit. If I have to stay one more second in this shitty fucking room, I’m gonna start climbing the walls,” he ranted with wild eyes. “I need to leave. I need to live my crappy life. I… I need to see y/n again.”

At that, Nancy perked up. It wasn’t out of excitement, but rather something blowing through her sideways at your name. Familiarity burned at her before it all went up in flames, and she was overwhelmed with memories and guilt.

“Oh my god… y/n…” She murmured to herself with an upsetting sense of nostalgia.

She completely forgot about you in the mess of everything. At first she had been trying to keep you from learning anything that could put you in danger—doing her best to keep it between her and Jonathan. She had already lost Barb because of her own selfish carelessness, she couldn’t let something happen to you too. Then it was all a whirlwind from there and you were suddenly caught up in a past that she forgot existed. A past where a shoebox was just a shoebox.

Her eyes grow sad, her mind filling with thoughts of how she could’ve ever possibly left you in the dust. Sure, you were a newfound friend in high school—whereas her and Barb had been friends for years by that point—but that was no excuse for letting leaving you out of the loop turn into completely leaving you behind.

She’s so caught up in her own regrets that she forgets about Eddie until he’s speaking up again and waving his hand in front of her face.

“Uhh, Wheeler? Hello?”

“Oh- uh… yeah, yes.” She shakes her head, her curly hair shuffling around with the motion, her brow frowning and her lips taut. “Yes. Yes, I know her. You know her?”

“Well uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh, suddenly fearful of the rage of an old friend. “We sorta… we had a thing going…”

He risked a glance over at her, and her expression was anything but sparing. She clearly wasn’t happy with how guilty he sounded, but who was she? She abandoned you for all intents and purposes, even if she didn’t mean to. And if she had been blind enough to never notice what went on between you and Eddie, she had no right to chastise him for it even if she did have the familiar urge to get up on her high horse.

“But uh… I kinda screwed everything up,” he muttered and was back to picking at his fingers while he stared down at them. “Like you wouldn’t believe. And I just… shit, I’m so sick of this place and waiting around.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but you can’t go back to Hawkins yet.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” he snaps bitterly before cooling down again. “I just… I need to talk to her or something. If she could be brought here, or if I could meet her somewhere else. I need to fix things.”

After constant complaining and threats of breaking out of the hospital, Nancy eventually found a compromise to get him to shut up.

Steve came back around the time he had started rattling on again about how he was going to go crazy. Utterly confused as always, he was off to the side and watched as Nance did her best to calm Eddie down again. He occasionally broke through all the noise with his questions, only to get a searing glare from Nancy. At some point, he finally caught on (kinda) and only made things worse.

“Munson has a crush,” he finally said with a snap of his fingers and points at them. “That’s cute. Embarrassing, but cute.”

“I don’t have a crush, you idi-”

“Will you please stop?” Nancy hissed over at him, expression begging for him to keep out of it.

“Why am I even here?” Steve wondered out loud with a sigh and kept eating his suspicious hospital jello.

“Cause I can’t leave this fucking place!” Eddie reiterated, making Nancy groan over Steve agitating the problem that she was just barely starting to settle.

“I’ll- I’ll give her a letter!” she finally offered, cutting Eddie off mid-complaint. Her arms shot up with the raise of her voice, laughing with exasperation. “Just write down what you want to say, and I’ll give it to her!”

*

“What are you doing here?”

It came out harsher than you intended and even you wanted to flinch at your own words, but maybe it was justified. She completed cast you aside you when you lost a friend. You both lost a friend, and it seemed to make her hate you. Or at least that’s how it felt. Why else would she have avoided you? Why else would she have stopped talking to you?

“I guess I deserve that.” Nancy replied with a soft huff of a laugh, and a sheepish smile.

More news seemed to be coming up little by little about Barb. Once upon a time you thought it all came to a close when it was revealed that she died from a chemical leak, but now there was talk of things that a chemical leak would wilt in comparison to. Things that went on in your own home town that you can’t even imagine going unseen by so many. Or maybe they all saw, but curled up into their comfortable ignorance to avoid it. You couldn’t judge them—you did too. You believed every story you got, even if—in hindsight—they were obvious cover ups every time someone started to demand for better explanations.

You eye her cautiously, hoping your eyes don’t show the sadness that came with such hesitancy around someone you used to know so well.

“I uhm…” Nancy shook her head the way she always did when she needed to clear her thoughts, brows furrowed and nose briefly scrunched up as she glanced at the ground. “I had to bring this to you…”

She was looking at you again, gauging your reaction as she extended her slim arm to offer you an envelope. You’re toying with it in your hands, wondering why there was no name on the back and if you should open it now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

You look up at her now, but remain silent. What was there to say?

“I should’ve never left you behind like that... Trust me, I never meant to. I thought I was protecting you and I was, but…” Nancy’s pouty lips scrunch together for a moment. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t…” you concur, but your heart aches from the look on her face.

Sure, she hurt you but maybe you should’ve been grateful. Even if you wished she would’ve been honest with you, you knew how stubborn Nancy could be when it came to protecting those close to her. Instead of shutting her out, you extend an olive branch.

“Barb would be rolling her eyes at us right now, huh?”

Nancy stutters over her own disbelieving laugh as she glances at you through her lashes.

“Yeah, she would be.” Her nose scrunches again, lips bunched up a second time as her gaze grows sentimental. “She’d be telling us to stop being so stupid.”

“‘You both get perfect grades, why don’t you use your brains outside of school?’” You quote before laughing and she joins in.

“Guess we can’t say she wasn’t honest. She was always pretty straightforward with her thoughts.”

“One of us had to be.”

Nancy nods, and then let’s out a sigh as she rubs her arm and starts to move out of your way.

“Well, I should probably let you get to that-“

“Yeah, this letter that isn’t suspicious at all.” You joke, holding up the blank envelope and she laughs lightly before ducking her head down.

Figuring you were parting ways now, you turn around and open your front door, just to turn around in your doorway when you heard her suddenly chirp out your name. She hesitates again, but then finds her words.

“I… now that things seem to be going back to normal… I… I’d love to try being friends again. Maybe have a girls night.”

A smile breaks out onto your face, and you watch her defenses slowly start to melt away and smooth out the stiffness in her body.

“I’d like that.”

*

“What did she say? How’d she react?” Eddie asked over the radio, barely even waiting for a second to pass before continuing. “Wheeler? Hello?”

“Can I have a moment to respond?” Nancy quipped back, the crackling of the station breaking up her voice but not enough that he couldn’t hear her frustration. Not that he cared right now.

“What’d she think?”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” she sighed. “She didn’t open your letter in front of me.”

“Shit…” Eddie mutters, chewing at his thumbnail. He wanted—maybe even needed—the instant gratification that Nancy could’ve given him had she stuck around to watch you open the envelope.

Then again, maybe he was lucky.

“It— It’s whatever. I just hope it makes a difference.”

“What…what did you say to her in the letter?” Nancy asked now before shifting her focus quickly. “What did you even do in the first place?”

“Uhh, well let’s see,” Eddie looked up at the ceiling from where he was sat on the edge of his bed as his leg started to bounce. “I was a dick. Yeah… yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Don’t make me regret doing this for you, Eddie.” Nancy sighed and turned down the volume to her walky talky.

*

“I’m sorry, and I mean it. I’m capable given the right circumstances, remember?” the writing said, then there were a few words that had been crossed out and he followed those scratches of ink with a winky face, concluding with: “Leave that window unlocked, kay? I’ll be back for that necklace so keep it safe.”

Was the world falling apart all over again? Did you actually die and you didn’t even realize it? Everything seemed so unexpected and oddly… nice? Reassuring? Like Nancy showing up and apologizing. Or this letter you had open on top of your bedding.

It was part of a full sheet of paper, likely the bottom third of a page torn off. The handwriting and the comments throughout were enough to immediately make you think of who wrote this—even if he didn’t sign it. But what really confirmed it was the necklace with the red guitar pick hanging on it. You’re infuriated with the involuntary flush reaching your cheeks as memories rush in. All the times he was on top of you, that necklace hanging down and resting on your chest or nudging your chin and lips.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me.” you remember him groaning that one time he watched you sucking on the guitar pick, big eyes staring up at him while he fucked into you.

You had been folded into yourself on his mattress, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from each and every thrust that fed your greed for him but was inevitably making your body ache.

The pick that was now resting in your palm was suddenly just a thin slab of plastic. The more you thought about it, that’s pretty much all it tasted like it, but you remembered the saltiness of his sweat too. What made it so special in the first place was knowing it was his. It was such an integral part of him—it laid close to his heart where you wished to be, and it was cherished by him which you wished for yourself once too. That moment in his small bedroom when you let it slip past your lips, you hadn’t been sure how he’d react, and to be completely honest you were too fucked out to think at all. But he didn’t pull it away from you, he sunk into you with that shuddering praise instead.

The memory of his words was enough to raise your body temperature, but you fought off that familiar instinct to melt just for him. He’s an asshole. A cruel heartbreaker. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He��s smug. He ruined love for you.

Your stomach bends and curls enough to make you nauseous as the butterflies kick in—then why do I still want him so badly? You were so desperate to take every single ounce of attention—good or bad—that he gave you. Hadn’t you learned your lesson? Hadn’t you been practicing your borderline religious hatred for him enough for it to be real?

You’re not sure if it’s anger towards him or yourself for slipping so easily, but your blood is starting to boil. You remind yourself of all those games he used to play with you and the sentiment of him being a heartless, sadistic fuck plays on repeat in your head so that no softer thoughts can break through. Surely he was toying with you. This was a test of some kind, probably because he got bored and wanted to brush you off like some forgotten toy he wanted to use again.

You needed to prove to yourself that you can shoot him down. Stare into those gorgeous doe eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. Look up at him when he’s giving you that beautiful half-smile and moving his hands to hold your hips, and tell him to never talk to you again.

You needed to show him how it felt to be treated the way he treated you. Maybe it was childish, but some twisted part of you felt relieved at the thought of it. He deserved to have his hopes shattered when he thinks he’s getting what he wants, just to be shut out. He deserved to be humiliated. He deserved to be broken down so thoroughly just like you had been. To be broken down into such a fine dust that even when you were sure everything had been swept back together again, there were always going to be those missing bits and pieces that fell through the cracks or blew away.

As you’re toying with the necklace in your hands, you can’t help but think you’re being too immature. What about last year? Everything that happened to him? Maybe he’s been put through enough? Your brow frowns, and you’re internally cursing yourself for being so horribly incapable of making a decision.

Your hand shot up to cover your frustrated expression, a groan leaving your lips. You wanted to let yourself hate him so badly, but you wanted to feel loved by him so much it hurt.

You think it over for the rest of the night, laying in bed with your hands still clutching that necklace. You’re up for hours, only falling asleep when your body forces you into submission around 4 AM—nodding off and snapping back up just to nod off again. Your last thought is that you had to be strong—whatever that meant. You didn’t have to be mean, but you refused to cave and immediately let him have you in whatever way he wants.

He’s won far too many times, and now it’s your turn.

*

“If you get caught then I had nothing to do with this—got that, Munson?” Steve whispered as he glanced over at the metalhead, one arm still outstretched as he held onto the steering wheel.

Eddie was too busy taking in the sight of your house and breathing in the fresh night air. It never occurred to him before just how much he loved the smell of chill in the wind, like it might snow soon. Ever since last year he was realizing a lot of things he never knew he loved, and he felt both relieved and crushed by the knowledge. He was sure he knew himself before everything happened. He liked fantasy games, music, and indulging in that metal rockstar lifestyle even if it was just another fantasy he was playing into. He liked having all eyes on him as he made a scene in the lunchroom. He liked being the local anarchistic leader of fellow freaks, and ignoring any other responsibilities. He liked girls he could use like he was some big shot backstage after a show.

He thought everything was about prepping himself for that kind of life. He was comfortable being the asshole who never pulled his weight anymore than he had to if he wasn’t interested enough. He was comfortable being a runner because then he could continue living the way he was used to without anything to come in and hold him back, until his whole life fell apart. Then he was afraid for his life. Then he was afraid for that kid’s life—all of their lives, actually, not just Dustin’s. Then he was suddenly the person charging into danger to give someone else a chance.

And now he was alone. He still had his new group, but they could continue their lives while he was kept hidden away and all he had to do was think about everything he never realized he would miss. Something as simple as recognizing a familiar comfort in the smell of a soft breeze felt heart wrenching. Or laying in a hospital bed wishing he still had that one girl to love him made him horribly aware of how empty he’s always been.

“Hello?” Steve urged with an impatient tone.

Eddie glanced over at him and despite his frustration at the lack of response, Steve felt taken aback by the sight of him. Something about finally seeing him back out of the hospital made him realize just how miserable Eddie really was. Maybe it was because sadness made sense in a hospital, or maybe it was the way the moonlight hit his features the right way and he could see the deeper shadows of his face and his sullen eyes.

“Just… be quick alright? And I was never here.”

“Yeah, Hopper’ll have your head.” Eddie snickered quietly.

“I’m less concerned about Hopper…” Steve muttered as thoughts of a certain young woman being upset with him flashed through his head.

“Women, am I right?” Eddie asked playfully in a mocking manner to anyone who ever seriously shared that sentiment, leaning his body towards Steve before laughing as the brunet nudged him back.

“Will you just go?” Steve laughed it off, shaking his head and watched him finally clamber out of the car.

Eddie snuck to the side of the house where he could spot your window. It had been a solid couple of weeks since Nancy brought his letter to you, and he just wished you would let him back in. He huffed before forcing himself up to make his way towards the window, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lips in concentration. He was understandably weaker since the last time he was doing this on a weekly basis, but he pushed through and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration when it wouldn’t open. You kept it locked.

*

Your whole body tensed at the sound of someone rapping on your window, hand clutching your blanket. It had been long enough that you thought he was never going to come and retrieve his necklace, and you were irritated with your own disappointment. Now you were struggling with the sudden surge of excitement lighting up your nerves, which was making a sour combination with all that built up anger towards him.

When you finally forced yourself to look over your shoulder, you weren’t expecting how badly you wanted to cry. You wanted to let him in and just kiss him. Kiss him until you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. Hold him to you and refuse to let him leave. He wasn’t allowed to make a visit like this and leave you again—physically or emotionally. You couldn’t handle it, and you were surprised at how all these feelings presented themselves.

“What is your problem?” Is the first thing to leave your lips when he’s climbing into your room, and you might’ve been more surprised by your words than he was.

“W… what?” he laughs off your question, shocked by you starting the interaction this way; although realistically he shouldn’t have been.

“Why are you here?”

“Well I…” he rubbed his arm once he was back to his full height, scratching a bit at his elbow. “I wanted to apologize-”

“Why does it matter to you now?” you interrupt, your anger surprisingly not faltering even when his big eyes flit up to look at you sadly like a dejected puppy. You felt so broken when you finally saw him again, you didn’t know where this was coming from. Why—when you wanted him back so badly—you were being so… mean.

“What? Did you develop a conscience all of a sudden? Get hunted for months and suddenly have an opportunity to stop and think ‘hm it really sucks to be treated like garbage, gee I wonder if this is how I made her feel’”?”

Eddie’s expression hardens for a moment, and it’s more familiar to you than any bit of softness he was showing you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t exactly treated all that great in school either. I can assure you, I already knew what it’s like to be treated like shit.”

“Oh so that excuses it then.”

“I-” Eddie huffs, letting out an incredulous laugh before trying again. “That’s not what I said. Shit— I just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make any excuses. I should’ve been better to you.”

You stay silent for a moment, arms crossed as you watch how honest he looks when he’s all soft like this—with those puppy eyes hopeful and glossy.

“Why did you do it? If you really cared all this time why were you so hell bent on hurting me so thoroughly?”

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he mutters as he looks at the floor, glancing up when you scoff out a disbelieving laugh of your own. For once this kind of attitude doesn’t fuel his fire, but tamps it down. He felt awful, and what made it worse is he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe it.

“I… I thought you were cute before. Just in passing, y’know, cause you were still an underclassmen back then, but…” he glances down at his shoes. “I overheard you with your friends talking about me, and when the possibility of me liking you came up you jus’ laughed about it. Like taking an interest in me was that bad.”

His brow furrows at the memory, and just when you’re about to respond he continues to explain himself the best he can.

“I just… I don’t know, alright? It was stupid but it made me feel like shit. Like as if you would ever give me the time of day. And then it was like you were obsessed with me, and I just…”

“Wanted to make me hurt?” you question and he glances up at you briefly before nodding.

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s hopeful this is you letting everything sink in and understand where he was coming from. That you’d see his sincerity, and take him back because fuck he couldn’t stand being alone again.

“You took my heart and ripped it into shreds because of that?” you finally ask, tone sharp enough to make him cringe. “Because of something I said as a nervous sophomore who couldn’t fathom being liked? Or being seen as interesting? That’s what this is all from?”

“Well- I- but you liked the teasing-” Eddie attempted, and immediately regretted when he saw the fire in your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“I… you… you do it too! Sometimes we overreact! It happens!” Eddie finally snapped back, but tried to keep his frustration within a whisper the same way you were. “Sometimes you overhear a conversation and you make the wrong conclusion! Sometimes you don’t get kissed and you get upset! Sometimes you try to sell a girl drugs and end up on the wrong fucking side of hell opening up! Shit happens in fucked up ways! Things get messed up! I’m trying to fix how I messed up!”

He’s visibly distraught, and even though he knew this wouldn’t be easy, deep down he wished you’d melt into him like always.

“You don’t get to pull that with me, Eddie. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I really, truly am because you don’t deserve it—no matter how much I hate your fucking guts. But you don’t get to use it to distract me with it.”

“I’m not—fuck— I’m not trying to distract you with it! I’m just saying things get mixed up because of assumptions n shit like that. And I’m… I’m sorry I…” he trails off, letting out panting breaths. “You… do you really hate me?”

You hesitate, that broken look on his face almost getting to you, but you’re so sure you know better. You know how he can manipulate things.

“Yeah, Eddie. I hate you.”

He’s surprisingly quiet as he looks at you, an unfamiliar glittering to his eyes.

“And by the way, there’s a huge difference between you spending years hell bent on my misery and leaving me beyond devastated; and me giving you the silent treatment after you fucked me in the middle of the night and didn’t stick around or kiss me or make me actually feel cared for in any way.”

Eddie murmured your name, taking a step forward in a quiet plead for forgiveness. Mercy. Anything but this.

“No. I’m talking right now. Not you. So shut up and listen for once,” you choked out as tears filled your eyes, which felt oddly dissonant to your anger.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I don’t want you back in my life,” You listed off with an attitude that surprised him, even if he deserved it. “I’m sorry that Hawkins has ruined your life, but that doesn’t mean you get me back just cause all of this has given you a fucking backbone and a conscience.”

Eddie’s lips part and then close again, feeling like a fish out of water. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do with that aching in parts of his body he didn’t even know could ache.

“Doll, please… I really…” he breathes in deep enough that it turns shaky and burns deep in his chest. “I need a chance. I need a chance to show you I mean it. That I did love you back. That I still love you. That I can make it all up to you.”

You dig your nails into your crossed arms, looking away. You know if you keep looking into those big brown eyes that look so desperate right now that you just might cave.

“Well… I don’t love you anymore. So don’t call me doll, and just leave me alone.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face, reaching back to temporarily grip his hair to use up some of that rage on himself before he lets go again.

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get even one chance? Just one, that’s all I’m asking. It’s all I need cause I swear I won’t hurt you ever again,” Eddie pleads and he’s shocked by his own words, but he doesn’t regret them for even a second. “I-I’ll check in more on how you’re feeling. I’ll ask if there’s anything I can do better. I’ll meet your fucking parents. I’ll be gross and romantic and honest. Please. Just give me one last chance, and I won’t take it lightly. Just don’t lie to me if you still love me. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to be scared shitless about letting someone in so you’d rather just lie. It’s not worth it.”

He notices that last remark sparks up your frustration and he clarifies speedily.

“And I know that me being like that is the reason you’re hesitant to let me in now. I know that’s my fault, I just… shit, I need another chance.”

The fact that he was so insistent and willing to grovel gave you some comfort, but you’ve learned to not get your hopes up. You stick to your guns, but not as confidently as before. And Eddie sees that.

“Please just leave…” you murmur, even if it’s burning away at you to insist that he go.

He groans, rubbing at his face again but goes to straddle your windowsill anyway.

“I really do care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You started chewing at the skin around your thumbnail—a nasty stress-related habit you picked up from someone. You didn’t respond, just waited for him to actually go. You were too busy fighting your urge to crumble at his words that actually felt so sincere.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You finally offer in a voice so soft you might as well have never spoken up, but it’s enough to ease some of that aching he felt.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too… I was worried you wouldn’t be. Bugged the shit out of Sinclair so he’d let me know.” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“You asked about me…?”

“Yeah… you’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

You bite your lip, swallowing when you realized just how tight your throat felt. You’re unsure of how to respond without giving into him, until you catch a glimpse of his necklace on your bedside table.

“Oh uhm… you came here to get this back.” you murmur, padding over to the nightstand to grab it and bring it over to him. Eddie stares at the pick in your palm before looking at you with sad amusement.

“The necklace wasn’t really what I was interested in coming back for…” he admits with a soft chuckle, eyeing you as his smile falters. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your-”

“Keep it. Please.”

The moment is bittersweet, and you’re thinking about what it would be like if you really gave him a chance to prove he’s being honest with you tonight, but you’re too fearful to take that chance. You do hold onto the necklace though.

“Good night, Eddie.”

*

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[lunapwrites]

Hey so remember that time that I made that post about the sudden plot bunny about Lyall and Andromeda bonding over the corpses of their children and wouldn't that be a fun meet-cute like a complete sociopath?

Well anyway I might have written it.

Third row, fifteen down. Lyall moved through the Great Hall, woodenly scanning the bodies laid out along the floor. Children, mostly — boys and girls just sighting the light at the end of their teens. Adults scattered in between, too few to be an effective shield against their attackers, against — Christ — the Giants he'd seen collapsed on the grounds. Fires still smoldering. Third row, fifteen down. He spotted the shoes first — how many times had he heard those boots scuffing on the rug at his door? How long had it been? Not since his son had burst into the house a year before, digging through boxes like a madman. "Need a hand?" "No, I just can't remember where I — ah! There you are—" "What are you up to, lad?" "Something monumentally stupid, probably — I'll explain later, I promise." He'd run out the door then, jamming something into his pocket as he went. It was the last Lyall had seen Remus alive. He'd thought himself moderately prepared for this, having buried his wife years ago. Thought he knew grief. Remus had always been a bit pale, a bit quiet. Self-contained. But there was always a sense of movement underneath his skin, an energy about him that could burst out at any moment — for good or ill. The body at his feet lay unnaturally still, unnaturally silent, eyes mercifully closed. Not just pale, but grey-faced. Slightly blue. He felt the air leave his lungs, felt his soul wither and die, his heart crumbling to ash in his breast. That was his son. That was his son. "You must be Lyall," a quiet voice ventured. He wrenched his eyes away from what was left of his son — his son! — to see a dark-haired woman standing beside him, arms full of a tiny baby, eyes hollow as he felt. "Remus spoke of you often." He frowned. "I…" "Andromeda Tonks," she offered. "Your son married my daughter." Lyall blinked slowly. He looked down at his son's body, spotting the ring glinting on his finger. There was blood on it. And to Remus' left was a young woman with mousey brown hair and a lip ring, fingers brushing against his even in death. She was wearing Hope's ring. "Something monumentally stupid, probably." He didn't even know her name. "I had no idea," he rasped. Andromeda let out a little sigh, adjusting the baby in her arms. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have."

She offered nothing further, and Lyall didn't have it in himself to ask. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a time, staring silently down at the faces of their dead children, each drowning in their own private sea of grief until the baby in her arms began fussing. He waved his tiny little fists as he screwed his face up, turning towards Andromeda's breast as if to latch. She pulled him away slightly, frowning. "I haven't anything to feed you with," she said, and Lyall wasn't so gone that he didn't hear the double meaning in her statement. "Don't know where I'll find you a nurse on such short notice, but we'll manage." "Does he not handle formula?" "What?" Her confusion was so genuine, she could have only been from an old pureblood line. His confusion over just who his son had (apparently) married only grew. “Something monumentally stupid—” "Baby formula,” Lyall clarified. “The Muggles use it to feed babies if they can't use milk for whatever reason. We had to use it for— well. He was allergic, so…" Andromeda nodded absently. “I suppose I could try to find some. Although, Merlin knows where at this hour…” She trailed off fretfully, a tiny furrow appearing between her finely curved brows, and Lyall let out a sigh. “There ought to be a Tesco open by now; it’s near six,” he assured her, earning a blank stare in response. Oh dear. “The supermarket?” Andromeda’s cheeks finally tinged a bit pink. “Oh, I… my husband—” a ripple of pain shot across her face, and oh, he recognised that one — “he normally does the— did the shopping. He was better at that sort of thing. And then Remus took over, after…” Recent, then; poor woman. It warmed him, slightly, to know that Remus had stepped in to fill the void the other man had left. That they’d let him. “Well. I’m glad he was there, at least.” Her expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “In the end, yes.” (There was a story there; Lyall was certain he’d hear about it soon enough.) (He only wished his son was alive to tell it himself.) “Suppose I ought to figure out where to bury him now,” Lyall murmured. “Only… you know. Never thought I’d have to.” (His son!) “Them,” Andromeda corrected, meeting his gaze as she drew herself up imperiously. “Your son swore to me that he’d never leave her side again, and I mean to see he keeps his word.” She paused, her eyes drifting to her daughter’s face, and Lyall could see her walls cracking. “She kept hers, after all. Swore she’d never let him if he tried, and here we are.” Lyall nodded thoughtfully, sidestepping the landmine for now. “Alright. Suppose we can discuss that while we hit the shops, then.” Andromeda stared at him, wide-eyed. “What? I couldn’t possibly leave—”

“They’re not going anywhere, and we haven’t anywhere better to be,” Lyall reminded her. “And more importantly, we need to get this one fed. Might as well grab a bite ourselves while we’re at it and discuss details as we go.”

She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might tell him to go hang — he certainly wouldn’t have blamed her, especially under the circumstances. And yet Andromeda seemed to gather herself, adjusting the still fussing baby in her arms whose hair was, to his surprise, slowly shifting from brown to red. She conjured up a tiny hat and popped it on his head with the expert precision of a woman who had not only expected such an occurrence, but had experience managing it.

“Right then,” she said briskly. “Lead on.”

The more Lyall was learning, the more confusion was beginning to give way to intrigue: just who was this woman his son had married? And who exactly was her mother?

“Something monumentally stupid, probably —”

But Remus wasn’t around to explain anymore, so all he had — all he could do — was this:

Show his son’s mother-in-law around the Tesco, formula in hand. Show her how to prepare it. Ask her how she takes her tea. Ask her about herself, her daughter, and his son, and the little hill where he’d buried his wife in ‘82.

“She’d like that, I think.”

Marvel a bit at the fact this poor girl survived her teens with a name like Nymphadora, sweet Circe. Keep that bit to himself.

Hold the baby — Teddy, a mercifully bog standard name, that — so she can sip and cry at the same time.

Tell her about his son — not the cagey, wand-shy man she knew, but the kind and quiet, if impulsive one he’d raised. The one she laughed and said her daughter must have known.

And then— “Would you like to stay for supper?” A wince. “I appreciate the offer—” Ah, hell. He waved her off. “Next time, then.” There wouldn’t be a next time, he thought. And then… there was. Tea after the quiet funeral turned into tea every Sunday, turned into "I was heading out to the shops for a bit, would you mind taking Teddy?" turned into bringing Teddy along as he helped her carry the bags home — "I suppose I could have Featherlighted them, but there were so many Muggles around, you know?" "Oh, of course." The grief never left — not really. Only faded to a dull roar in the back of his mind that Lyall could tuck away when he needed most days. Andie understood; she felt it too. He stepped in on the days when Harry was working and Andie couldn't get herself out of bed, and she stepped in on the days when the grief seemed to stretch out so long and deep that he couldn't climb out. Tucked a baby — a toddler — a boy into his arms, just to remind him they're still here, at least a little. Teddy was growing into something not-Remus and not-Nymphadora but something entirely, brilliantly his own, and most days Lyall could have burst with the joy of it. The sorrow. She understood that too. Held his hand as they visited the graves on the hill, beneath the alder tree he'd once carved his and Hope's initials into. Four headstones for three bodies, watching the sun rise over the valley. Watching Teddy try to do cartwheels that looked more like a pisshead falling over a bin. Watching him recover, hair brilliantly blue, and try again.

"Gran! Bampi, watch!" Merlin, they would have loved him. Merlin, but he could bleed with it most days. (Andie wrapped her arms around his waist, chin perched on his shoulder as she laughed quietly against his back. Holding them both together.)

Lyall reckoned that, most days at least, they were alright.

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Okay so this post has gained a lot of traction and I've seen some questions in the tags and also a few other posts talking about the same thing so I just want to clarify what I mean when I say "Please don't reduce Lizzie's character and death to an extension of a man's" and similar things. (Just for some clarification before we start: I don't think this is some huge issue that we need to have a big fight about, but I have seen some people talking about it and I wanted to put in my two cents)

I know no one is doing this because they're misogynistic. I know there would be similar reactions if any of the men had the same arc over the season. I know people are telling the truth when they say the connections they're making between Lizzie and the male characters aren't because she's a woman. I know no one is thinking about her gender when they're saying these things and that is what bugs me, I think.

Fandom in general, but especially the MCYT fandom, has always had issues with the way we treat women. We have a tendency to reduce them to one or two characterizations (kind, mothering, vengeful, etc.) or to their relationships with men, things that aren't inherently bad things for a character to be. The issue comes from when that's the ONLY thing they ever get to be. They're not allowed to be as complex as the men. Again, I'm not at all saying that anyone is doing this on purpose, it's just a pattern that fandom culture as a whole seems to struggle with.

And when you have an issue like, that the answer isn't to ignore the gender aspect and treat all characters the same. You have to intentionally combat it. You have to take the time to deliberately give the female characters complex characterizations and interesting storylines outside of the men. It's equality vs. equity, you know?

If you've ever done research about writing POC characters, you've probably heard people say something like "Don't just write them like you would a white character because you might accidentally enforce stereotypes and biases you didn't even know existed. You have to be aware of those things so you can intentionally go against them." It's kinda similar to that in my head. You can't just say "I would do the same thing for a man" and be done with it because men and women have been treated very differently in fandom spaces and if we want to change that, we have to be intentional about how we write them.

I don't think there's anything inherently misogynistic about connecting Lizzie's death to the Canary Curse or Joel's revenge arc, but I would like her to also have her own character lore and a connection to the Watchers that isn't about a man. In a fandom space where women are constantly defined by their relationships with men and with a character who had as tragic a story as Lizzie, I would love for some of her lore to be about her and her alone. Connections to Jimmy and Joel are awesome! I love reading them! But I don't want that to be the only thing about her, even if that's what you would talk about if she were a man. She's not a man, she's a woman in a space where women are often mistreated or only seen as extensions of men. So even if you genuinely would say the same things about a man I just want you to challenge yourself to dig a little deeper with her character and find ways to give her something that is wholly and truly her own.

She had her own plans for revenge that went horribly wrong and ultimately led to her death! Even in her vengeful anger, she held a soft spot for Pearl because she remembered how she saved her in Session 1! She was forgotten and ignored by almost everyone! She tried to cheer herself up by doing something harmless and fun and that led to her being punched and then murdered for no reason! She wasn't even angry at Jimmy when he accidentally murdered her because she felt like it was her own fault! She tried so hard at everything she did and it still wasn't enough! She knew no one would come to save her from the caves! The only thing she asked of anyone was for them to come to her slumber party and still only one person showed up for her! She was forced to turn on her own husband to complete her task! She tried to make it up to him and it led to her being out of the game! No one even gave her a funeral when she was gone! She was forgotten and ignored in both life and death! There is so much more to her than being motivation for a man or breaking a man's curse, even if those are big things that happened.

Again, I'd like to make it very clear that I'm not angry about the way Lizzie has been treated, I'm mostly joking whenever I say things like in the original post. It's mostly just a feeling of "Come on I know we can do better than that!" And in the past few days I've seen a lot of people do some really amazing things with her character! So much amazing art and fanon lore! This isn't even a huge issue anymore because a lot of people have begun to explore her individual character now that the excitement about the Canary Curse has died down. This post is just an explanation for people who were asking questions or weren't sure what people meant in some posts from earlier in the week.

[qroier]

edited my post from yesterday on spiderbit eurydice and orpheus to be clearer. it is now. way longer klsdjfk. but the idea is the same. anyway enjoy reading if you do and uh. pues f if you don't, no? lskdfjsdk. kinda already mentioned it in the post but should clarify here that i'm 100% talking about the greek myth.

-

Thinking about spiderbit as eurydice and orpheus is so interesting to me, cause I think depending on how you look at it and how you think of the story, there's an argument for both. And then you remember everything that was purgatory and how clear of a parallel it is to the myth hdksjdks. Honestly though, I feel like the purgatory parallels are the biggest reason roier cubito as orpheus is winning out on that one poll, and I kinda have to disagree with that. The evidence for orpheus roier is there from the start. Roier cubito is always and forever a perfect, permanent orpheus figure even before considering purgatory, and it's down to the devotion roier and orpheus cling to and the grief they both drown in. (The rest under the read more)

Backtracking first for a bit to set the stage. There are many different versions of the eurydice and orpheus myth out there, and its nature as a myth means that interpretations (and translations of any original latin or greek versions) are always changing. Disclaimer of course that my understanding and general knowledge of the myth has been mainly influenced by the wider english-speaking cultural approach to it. I'm focusing on the orpheus archtype from my understanding of what it means (which I'll explain along the way) because otherwise if I didn't I'd end up getting too boggled down in "virgil said this according to this translation" and "ovid went more in this direction following this translator" details. and there is no way in hell i'm struggling through translating on my own with my measle little two years of latin classes under my belt lskdjfkldfj.

But regardless, here's a very basic and brief summary that most versions tend to follow: Eurydice and orpheus are married. Eurydice dies. Orpheus treks out to the underworld through the power of music to save her and get her back. He's told the only way he can have her is if he makes the treacherous trip back to the mortal realm without turning to look at her once. He looks back right before he makes it, and fails in saving her. Sounds familiar, right? slkdjfsk

Don't get me wrong, orpheus cellbit still makes sense in a way. That's part of why the poll and idea in general is so interesting. Heed the disclaimer again but to me, the biggest, most obvious, and most immediately linked connotation the myth has always had is one of devotion. Like the type of devotion that would take you all the way into the afterlife and all the way back in the hopes that that might save the person you love. Cellbit cubito is nothing if not devoted, and normally in the loudest ways possible. He loves shouting out his devotion at all times to anyone in close proximity. It just makes sense that if anyone could hold the level of devotion necessary to be orpheus it'd be him, cause we all know he'd do anything for roier.

Plus being honest, it also makes sense just going by the dynamics in their relationship that they most often present to others. Roier cubito kinda likes playing into the dynamic of asking other people to "save" him, whether that's from mobs or hunger or anything, so long as it's not something actually serious. So much so that the idiot (said lovingly) has conditioned everyone, and I do mean everyone, both islanders and audience alike, into thinking he's defenseless and needs saving. Maxo put it best that one time when he said he felt like roier after cellbit saved him from some mobs, only for cellbit to have to correct him and say that it's usually the other way around. As far as most are concerned, cellbit does the rescuing while roier gleefully asks for the help. It is very easy to make the jump from the idea that eurydice is being saved and the image of roier cubito calling out for help with a scorpion that he could (normally at least, I know he didn't have any weapons or gear that one time during purgatory) bring down on his own. It definitely doesn't help that cellbit is, of course and as always, already running to roier with a weapon in hand to kill the scorpion. At the first chance, he's already trying to help. Anything for his husband.

So it makes sense that orpheus cellbit, who clearly loves doing the saving, would drag himself through hell in his devotion to save eurydice roier, who loves being the one saved! But then you start remembering how the story came about. You start wondering, well, why does the devotion need to be so strong? Why does eurydice even need to be saved? What has brought the both of them to the gates of the afterlife? Oh. Right. It's because she died. She's dead. Eurydice, the love of orpheus’ life, is dead. 

Saving her takes and is devotion, yes, but it's also an attempt to escape grief. If she’s saved, there’s no need to mourn. If she’s saved, then she’s not dead and there’s no grief. And, always, there is no one more grief-riddled than roier (except maybe maxo, whose grief has permanently killed him). No one knows more intimately than roier how tough of a fight it is to escape constant grief because he is constantly grieving, and it just keeps getting worse. His number one recurring theme since arriving on the island has been that he will lose loved ones. To the point that sometimes, even if the person is still technically around, the grief around them and the relationship that once was finds ways to persist (just look at the mess that revolved around spreen cubito before he was confirmed to be dead).

The devotion still applies to him too, of course. Even though it's in quieter ways, there's no denying that roier is as equally devoted to cellbit as cellbit is to him. Cellbit once promised roier he'd rescue him if the feds ever arrested him. Roier once told cellbit he'd go after him and wouldn't stop until he got him back if the feds tried taking cellbit again. And that's not even the only time roier has promised that, he's said similar things multiple times before. He even had to fulfill that same promise once already, back during the regret arc when cellbit went missing trying to save felps. If there is one thing that is true, it's that roier is not lacking in orpheusian devotion.

Actually, extending that devotion from being based in romantic love to also including familial love just makes it all the clearer how much of an orpheus roier has already been. Orpheus fights through the journey, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost eurydice, of having to succumb to grief, is too much for him to take. Roier fought through the entire island and later a dungeon, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost bobby, of having to succumb to the grief of loosing his son to something outside of his control, was too much for him to take.

And then they both fail. Orpheus looks back too early. Sometimes he forgets, in his excitement to be so close to the end, sometimes doubt gets the best of him and he has to check, and sometimes the need to see his love again overwhelms all his senses. Sometimes maybe it's somehow all three. Roier also looked back too early, in a way, but cucurucho only knows what way that actually was. It could have been that he technically did die right at the very end before he could make it through the dungeon, or it could have been that the gods were feeling particularly cruel that day. Either way, bobby wasn't returned to him. Either way, eurydice vanishes in the morning light after orpheus gets one last glimpse of her. Either way, Bobby vanishes behind the door after roier and jaiden are given only 10 minutes to say goodbye.

This is all without even touching on some of the details about how roier's singing charms everyone he meets and how music is such an important part of his character (for those of you unfamiliar with the myth, orpheus' connection to music is so deep that the greeks named a constellation after his lyre). Or, as notes in the last version of this post pointed out, how his previous journeys to the underworld have shaken his faith and trust (which would probably need to be a whole entire other post on its own). 

Roier is just permanent orpheus. He can't help it. If you believe that characters in myths are left behind, endlessly retelling their journeys even once the book is closed, then orpheus is still there, making that trip to the afterlife and back. His story is being retold through roier, who is here now. Roier, who has already gone on two trips to the afterlife and back, already told this story twice before, and is now preparing himself for a third (even a fourth, if you want to extend this whole thing and include purgatory and the eggs). It’s retold in how Roier has to do the saving, again, because he keeps getting left behind. In how he’s always drowning in grief, in some way or another. How he’ll drag himself through the journey every single time if it means a chance at saving someone he loves. If it means saving himself from more grief.

So the stage is set. Purgatory happened. Orpheus has loved, again, and he's lost, again. Roier may like it when he's the one being saved but he's been forced yet again into a position where he has a chance to do the saving. He's facing an increasingly insurmountable mountain of grief on one side and a plunging chance at salvation on the other. The book has been turned back to its first page. The story is rewinding to tell itself again. We know what path he'll pick. Now all that’s left is to see if this third trip succeeds. To see if this retelling is one where orpheus does not look back. And if he does? Well.

"Dying again, [Eurydice] did not blame her husband — What could she complain of except she was loved?" - ovid, translator: stanley lombardo

[pokemoncenter]

On Team Plasma

... Truthfully, I did not want to share this in this way. But I feel that given recent events, it is best to be open and upfront. In this post, I will share all I know and all I can remember of Team Plasma, their actions, their methods, their reasons, and most importantly, why there cannot be a new resurgence of Team Plasma- Anyone claiming the name cannot be related to them.

Twelve years ago, I was a member of the original Team Plasma. I was afraid to share this until now, for many reasons, not least of which that I was afraid it would cause people to think less of me. I wished to take this secret to my grave. However, given the recent events of someone claiming to be Team Plasma, and potentially seeking to use its name to cause harm, I felt it best to take this chance to write down and post everything I know.

I do not know if this information will help, but it is my hope that it will either lay fears to rest, or help stop whoever is using Team Plasma's name.

First, I wish to clarify that for all of Team Plasma’s crimes, I was never involved in any ‘liberations’. My role was that, when Pokemon were brought to me, I simply examined them and deemed whether they were safe to return to the wild, or if they needed treatment first. I know that this does not excuse it, but even so…

To start from the beginning… Many have forgotten this now, but Team Plasma was originally nothing like what people think of it now. It originally began as a group devoted to Pokemon welfare. It is known now that it was far more sinister, but in the beginning, it was nothing more than a group which preached that humans should not force Pokemon to conform to their ideals.

Though no one knew much about it at the time, Team Plasma actually began in 1996. Ghetsis founded it as a group promoting Pokemon welfare, while raising a boy, N.

(Though I have no proof, due to their physical similarity and circumstance, I suspect that Ghetsis is N’s father.)

At the time, Team Plasma started small. It had no resources to speak of- In fact, when it began, Team Plasma (then Plasma Circle) had only eight members. Those who would go on to become the Seven Sages, and the Team’s ‘prince’, Lord N.

The growth of the organization was… surprisingly swift. By the time of its fall in 2010, it had surpassed 90,000 members. But before that, when it was just starting out, it owed its growth entirely to Ghetsis. The man was a surprisingly powerful public speaker, and has a strong charisma. Though he was at best someone who could be described as a monster, he had a keen eye for seeing through people, and could work a crowd better than anyone else. Combined with his acting as a simple older man, and even using the young N to boost his public image as someone campaigning for a kinder world, he was quick to gain popularity.

I did not join until 2008, when I had just turned ten years old. Rather than going on a journey as a Trainer, I wanted to instead help Pokemon. I joined Team Plasma, and there, I began to learn medicine and treatment to Pokemon.

What I would like everyone to understand is that ‘liberation’ was not originally considered the universal answer to all Pokemon. It changed. Swiftly, and yet unstoppably. 

I am getting ahead of myself.

Before I joined Team Plasma, there were many stories on the news of humans abusing their Pokemon. Many, like myself, had thought this to mean that humans were cruel. That we should try to make the world better for them. 

Upon joining, I studied under some of the older members, to learn how to treat Pokemon. Pokemon were brought to us frequently- Some of them liberated, some of them wild who were injured in other ways. We knew, of course, that some of them were liberated, but the important thing was that we believed liberation was only done to people who abused their Pokemon. And when a Pokemon was brought in with bruises from boot prints… We felt justified. 

As time went on, however, the number of Pokemon brought to us increased. And it had always been that every liberation had been justified. We had too many Pokemon to care for, and not enough time to look into each Pokemon we received, to ensure the liberation had been justified… but it always had been before, so we simply did not think much of it. We simply assumed that it was similar… That every Pokemon was either justly liberated, or wild and injured by human action.

At the same time, throughout 2009 and 2010, things seemed to… escalate.

We started out thinking that we would only liberate Pokemon that had been abused. And then, somewhere down the line, the language shifted without anyone noticing- That if we liberated a Pokemon, then it must have been being abused. And eventually, this turned into the thought that humans keeping Pokemon at all was abusing them, so all Pokemon should be liberated.

It was impossible to speak out against this. After all, we were all united in our love of Pokemon. Everyone agreed. If you disagreed… it just showed that you were another one of the foolish and cruel humans who were abusing Pokemon. The entire group felt unified, as long as you agreed. And if you stepped out of line, then everyone would turn against you. 

We felt unable to trust ourselves, because surely, the organization wouldn’t do anything wrong. But we also could not trust anyone outside of the Team, because so many people were abusing their Pokemon. We eventually could not trust anything except that which our superiors told us. It was horrifying- Without realizing it, you would be swept up by the flow of the crowd, terrified that any disagreement from the norm would be discovered, and you would be cast out.

Most of us did not know anything about the castle, either. 

The underground base was a well-known thing, of course. Most of us had been there a few times- I was there to see Lord N’s coronation, as well as to see a few of the larger or more dangerous Pokemon that needed treatment. We had been told it was simply to avoid crowding out room on Pokemon habitats above the ground. None of us knew it could move. 

It was when the castle rose up that I fled. The castle appeared, the Legendary Dragons were revived, the Gym Leaders and Elite Four were fighting us. That was when I finally realized just how deep in over my head I truly was. And so I ran. I ran for my life. I did not stop running until I had made it all the way back to Castelia City, and then, I shut myself away for the better part of a year.

… The rest of that story isn’t relevant to Team Plasma, however.

Team Plasma as an organization was managed by the Seven Sages, each with their own role. However, Lord N, as the King of Team Plasma, was truly in charge… or so we thought. We believed that the Seven Sages served Lord N, but in truth, Ghetsis was the true leader, and Lord N nothing more than a figurehead.

Among us in the lower ranks, however, we believed that Lord N was the true power. We saw his ideals, and his beliefs. He was pure-hearted, and truly believed in his mission with his whole heart. Between Lord N’s purity and Ghetsis’ foul charisma, most of us were true believers in the mission. However, not everyone was- At an estimate, I would guess that roughly 80% of Team Plasma’s grunts were loyal to Lord N, and the mission of welfare and happiness for all Pokemon. The remaining 20% were… more loyal to Ghetsis. Rather than wanting to benefit Pokemon, they simply wanted power. I was blind to it at the time, but now it is easy to see in retrospect. And most of the (roughly) one thousand members who committed the “liberations” were part of that second faction.

Rood of the Seven Sages was the one whom I worked under. His group operated mostly for Pokemon welfare- We treated Pokemon, as mentioned, and we sought to make things better for them.

Sometimes, though, Pokemon were brought to us that had their hearts closed by the abuses they received. Even when we treated them, they would not return to the wild. Instead, they chose by their own will to remain with Lord N. I believe they understood him, and his dream. His ideal, after all, was a peaceful, gentle world…

When Team Plasma fell, at that time, when Lord N and Ghetsis were both defeated, Team Plasma disbanded. Those of us who were loyal to Lord N and the ideals of making the world better for Pokemon fled, scattered all over Unova, or were arrested. Most of us would have gone into hiding, or tried to continue to find our own work,elsewhere to continue the dream of helping Pokemon. 

Those who remained loyal to Ghetsis and his maniacal plans instead went to ground with him. Without being arrested, they made a resurgence two years later as the second Team Plasma, who had abandoned all pretense of the original’s noble goals. They were nothing more than a military force that wished to conquer the region, if not the world, for Ghetsis’ horrible ambitions.

When Ghetsis was defeated a second time… I don’t know for certain. I’ve heard conflicting reports. That he died at the end of that fight. That he was arrested. Or that by using Kyurem… His heart was destroyed- His body survived, but the man called “Ghetsis” was dead. Regardless, all accounts agree- Ghetsis is no longer a threat. With the remaining Seven Sages arrested, Team Plasma is no longer a threat to anyone. Anyone who seeks to cause trouble using their name has no relation- The power of Team Plasma is all accounted for, and can no longer cause trouble.

Lord N… I do not expect anyone to believe me, or understand. But I can swear that he was not evil. He was manipulated by Ghetsis from his childhood. I have theories, and suspicions, but no proof, so they are not worth posting here. But I can say this:

Once, I had the fortune of seeing his dream. While I was at the underground base, I saw him resting, with a Munna there. In the Munna’s smoke, I saw his dream- A kind, and gentle dream, wishing purely for the happiness of Pokemon.

I hope this was informative. I will do my best to answer any other further questions you have.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Tell us a little bit about the requests you’re working on or have queued up to write.

Hi!! Sure!!

I actually have only one (1) request remaining and I am actually glad you sent this ask, because I was a little confused about the prompt and wanted to ask the sender for clarification but since it was anon I couldn't DM them 😅 so now I have an excuse to do so.

First of all thank you for being so respectful, I've not done anything like this yet and am excited to!! I was a little confused if you wanted me to write an AU where Ambrosius takes care of Bal directly after the joust (based on their messed up relationship I don't think he did in canon, but if that's what you wanted pls lmk!!) or did you want to see something more Post-Canon with A nursing B back to health in some way? I really really love this request and I think it is so cute :,) I just don't want to disappoint! If you submitted it, I hope you're reading this, pls feel free to DM me OR submit another anon to clarify!! I actually really love this request so I want to fill it right

Below the cut I offer some info about the ones I did not fill (all anon) to hopefully offer an explanation to anyone who didn't get theirs. Sorry! 🩷

CW: some stuff discussed below the cut is sexual in nature

If your request for deleted I hope it doesn't hurt your feelings, I wasn't offended receiving them I just didn't want to do it for one reason or another. Of those that I remember, one was an exact duplicate of another request, so I just filled it once of course. One was for a selkie AU which I think is a really interesting and cute idea, but I am not familiar enough with selkies or Celtic folklore to have felt comfortable exploring that. I always want to be respectful to cultural folklore and didn't feel I had the time or mental energy I needed to do the amount of research I felt was necessary. Similarly I had one for a cheerleading au which I also thought was cute but I know nothing about cheer or any sport enough to write it lol

I received one that seemed to be for an age regression Drabble, which I don't actually mind writing at all, but because it was on anon and did not specify in the request, I had no way to confirm it was NOT a person who sexualizes/fetishizes it, and so I was not comfortable proceeding, especially since I was already wary since I'd already gotten another request that, while innocently worded, was very obviously a fetish and involved something happening to a character against their will (it wasn't explicit noncon, but like-- think along the lines of bimbofication). I'm okay writing CONSENSUAL nsfw stuff but I don't like receiving requests that are worded innocently while obviously being for fetish content. If you want fet content just say that and I'll either write it or I won't 😭

[feldspursfiyero]

well, longer post for the wicked soundtrack (spoilers)

defying gravity: wow i nearly started crying lmao skjfngkfg either i'm in a Mood orrrr... nah i think it's cynthia's voice, she really gets all the emotion out somehow with her voice!! amazing. and it made me remember that i did get teary when i saw the stage show back in 2009. jemma rix, btw <3 (she was still the understudy back then i think?) (i had a crush on her for a bit haha)

anyway atm i'm just listening to all the tracks i usually listen to. first i listened to Dancing Through Life, then The Wizard and I, What Is This Feeling, Popular, I'm Not That Girl, One Short Day, Defying Gravity

oooh the high F sounds good in Defying Gravity (i just got to it (i'm listening and liveblogging/writing this lol))

i assume the new bit inserted into DG will make more sense after watching the movie

anyway, other comments:

one short day: i knew they'd be in it bc i saw spoilers, and i'm not bothered about spoilers/it doesn't dampen my excitement/i don't need to be surprised (someone was kinda rude/offended about it on reddit to someone else, as if everyone thinks the same as them skjfgnfg). anyway, One Short Day, the new bit is another of those moments where it'll make sense once i see the movie. so yeah XD nice to have the og there though

the wizard and i: glorioussss

i'm not that girl: reaaaally nice, then i felt like it got a bit overwrought towards the end BUT i'm sure it'll make more sense when i see the movie

defying gravity (again lol, i cbb trying to slot it back in up top somewhere): there's something about the long held un-vibrato(??) notes in the chorus bit which just get me every time. and because i hadn't heard cynthia's version till now/this is the first time, the whole emotional whatever of it hit me again. fun!! (as an aside i also really like jemma rix's voice, i might go watch the stage version i got off yt again after this)

okay so ariana's songs/voice: they're nice, she sounds a lot like chenoweth, but atm i'm not so into how... unpunchy her delivery is? idk. tentative opinion till i see the movie in about 3 weeks (rather than my usual 4-5 weeks for a movie that i want to see lol (look, i'm eager!!))

oooh now listening to the ozdust duet track! i didn't know what it was till i clicked on it and recognised the music. WOW IT'S SO ROMATICALLY GELPHIE PLS THEY'RE SLOW DANCING YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME THAT THERE WEREN'T ~AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES~ SHENANIGANS like that beat is basically 80s (?) romance (??) slow dance (???) songs, IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, I WAS CLASSICALLY TRAINED, NOT POPULAR-MUSIC TRAINED (// to clarify/further explain, for some fucking reason my dad didn't let me listen to a lot/any popular music growing up, which he now fucking denies...! so now i'm a lil unsure but like I REMEMBER BEING A TEENAGER and him being like 'this is trash music, they can't sing' and so i had to listen in secret. and for someone who can't stand headphones/earphones (the feel of it), it was hard to listen to things lol. i heard more in primary school because primary school was more music-ey with the concerts and stuff)

anyway MUCH later i'll listen to all the other tracks i never listen to LMAO, i'm actually waiting for a better quality version than what yt can give me, so

aaand i'll add to this as i think of more things. gonna listen to all my fave tracks againnnn

ETA: ehehehe it's officially out at midnight my time!

more ETA

dancing through life: man jb's voice just makes me smile haha // I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIM BE A SHALLOW LIL SHITHEAD // i like the new transitions in this, better than the other tracks (just from without seeing the movie yet), i think because there's always a lot of room to move with this one, no pun intended lol

ETA2:

forgot to mention yesterday but i LOVE what they did with the start of One Short Day, because it starts a minor 3rd higher than on the OST and i was like, whaaa are we really transposing it that high? and it (the vocals and stuff) was very nice. and then it dropped down into the usual key, and it just sounded GOOD and it fucked with you a bit. very nice

[thesingingrevolution]

the way winwin carefully scheduled his year around the wayv comeback but sm suddenly switched the comeback dates up on him and he ended up not being able to participate ... and THEN he cant make it to the versache event cus he has to talk all of this out w the company.

yunquis r so strong... i would not be able to deal fr. how do u do it???

first of all thanks for your message 🙇🏻‍♀️💌

personally, i felt so upset and disappointed when the news broke :( it was bad enough it was gonna be an ot5 comeback, but when it was revealed it was because sm changed their pre planned schedule it made me angry. i understand that winwin has other important activities and if it was his own choice to sit this one out, i would have respected his decision and happily supported the other five members. but the fact that he went out of his way to ensure his schedule would align and they couldn’t even respect that.. it made me really sad. as far as we know, there is no reason this comeback had to me moved up. they just did it. and i’ve never seen anything like it, how can a company not respect their artist in this incredibly basic way? it’s heartbreaking.

i wish winwin stays in nct because i truly love him and i love his friendships in the group and his contributions etc etc but stuff like this makes me wish more and more than he only does what he needs to do for his career and happiness, regardless of how we feel. these transgressions are too serious in my opinion, to the point that when wayv were promoting on my youth during the last few months of 2023 as a proper group it almost felt like a fever dream. a full group promoting a comeback together should not be a rare occurrence. it’s so so so sad and wayv as a whole deserve so much better. the fact that i felt absolutely no excitement over this cb and haven’t even looked at concept pics or listened to any songs says so much. i will eventually, but it hurts right now :( i will need some time to get over this. not the fault of any of the members, of course!!! will always love and wish then the best.

moreover i hate that this feeds into the idea that winwin doesn’t care about his group. it’s such a common sentiment in the (toxic/misinformed/immature) parts of the fandom. if anything, winwin’s actions and deliberate desire to partake in the cb tells us the EXACT OPPOSITE. if he didn’t care, he clearly wouldn’t have gone through the trouble. like you’ve said, it’s causing more issues for him. so why would he do it if he didn’t care? i’m glad some clarifying posts went semi viral, and there was a decent amount of outrage. rightfully so.

as for how i do it….. my friend,, it’s not easy. to be honest, i have had periods where it wasn’t good for me (last summer, for example, i had so much free time to dedicate to kpop and it started affecting my mental health when i saw my fav neglected and disrespected all the time). thankfully i am better now and have been for a long time, it’s really embarrassing to admit kpop can mess one up like that lol but i hope people can be honest about how they feel since it’s very real in my experience. i try not too think about it too much and keep busy with other things, i took a huge step back from stan twitter and i only follow a few yunqi accs who post updates/positivity and don’t engage in fanwars and spread aggression across the internet. as for his company, it’s a bit more complicated. i feel as though his potential has never been fully realized, which is sad for a seasoned idol so many years into his career. but it also gives him so much space to grow, every now and then i am so surprised by his incredible work in other areas, because he was held back so much. i am so glad there are people who recognize his potential <3

i also try to remember that even though i love nct and its a huge part of my life, it’s just music and no matter what happens things will be alright. we will always have the good times and memories and that makes me feel better when i get upset. lastly, i learned to primarily focus on my own friends and my own thoughts. just last night, i told a friend i love winwin the most and she said she likes him and that he suits me as a bias. all my irl kpop stan friends have been nothing but supportive and sweet. and in my own head, winwin is the best, i dont have to think about his company and random people online to hold that opinion, and at the end of the day my thoughts are the only ones that really matter when it comes to this.

i’m sorry this is so long hahahha, but hopefully it explains a little about how i feel about all this!! once again thank you for your message 💖

[finn-m-corvex]

Jaya Week 2023 Day 1: Hobby

IT (was) JAYA WEEK! Going to be honest with you, folks, I completely forgot this was a thing until I saw the post for it literally the day before it started (today, the 31st for me) so now I'm on a mission to speed write the other six days.

I hope you guys like this one! Small something to help me get back into writing small things. I'll be posting these on ao3 too!

Words: 1.7k

[REUPLOAD!]

It hadn’t started as anything important, really. Nothing more than a hobby for them.

She could still remember the day that Jay had walked her around the bowels of the Bounty for the first time since he had built the engines, showing her the innards of the mechanations. Jay had the biggest smile on his face as he pointed out the various gears and wires, happily explaining what they did with a speed that lightning would’ve envied. His hands were articulating wildly, very nearly hitting her in the face every few minutes and she was amazed he hadn’t hit the walls with how cramped the area was.

Even then, all she could think about was how good he looked in his black tank top, his muscles on full display paired with the boyish face that she had somehow fallen so hard for.

Until he finally stopped talking to take a closer look at one of the cooling systems, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” she had asked, coming up behind him and trying to see for herself.

Jay sighed, reaching for the worn blue toolbox that he had left in the corner. “One of the pipes is coming loose. We’re going to have to get a new one somewhere, but I should just be able to tighten it until then.”

She watched as he grabbed a wrench covered almost top to bottom in rust, and part of her wondered if it was really in the best condition to be used. Jay chuckled when she asked him about it, and held it up for her to see. “My pa always says that the most worn tools are the most reliable. The more worn they are the better, because if they’ve lasted you this long, why wouldn’t they get you a little farther?”

It hadn’t made any sense to her at the time. Instead of asking Jay and trying to understand it, Nya had pressed on. “Can you show me how?”

“What?”

“Can you show me how to fix it?” Nya clarified, and for some reason she felt nervous about asking him. Jay looked at her, surprised, and she was worried that he would say no when a delighted smile spread across his face.

“Of course! Come on, I’ll teach you everything I know,” he said, and she was smitten with the way he continued babbling to himself when she stepped up next to him. Most of what he had been saying didn’t make a lick of sense, but eventually she started picking up what he was putting down. Reaching to take the wrench from him, their hands brushed, and she shivered when Jay’s touch lingered for a bit longer. His thumb rubbed small circles on the inner part of her wrist, nail tracing along the veins visible through her skin. 

Jay didn’t move his hand until she had finished tightening the bolt, but even then it was only to wrap his hand around hers. She was surprised by how warm it was, almost like the lightning buzzing under his skin was heating it, and she smiled at the small lightning scars already snaking up his hand.

Pulling back, Nya was hardly startled when she felt his other arm settle around her waist. “Did I do it right?”

What did startle her was Jay’s dopey grin, dripping with so much love and affection that it made her heart squeeze in her chest. His gorgeous blue eyes were looking directly into her own muddy brown, and Nya was close enough to see the light dusting of makeup covering the smattering of freckles that she knew to be there.

She wanted nothing more than to tell Jay that he didn’t need the makeup, and that they all would’ve loved to see the constellation of stars splashed across his face, but she knew he wouldn’t hear it.

He leaned in, and Nya smiled when he gave her a side hug. “You’re so amazing,” he praised, and she hadn’t felt so special since the day Kai had told her that she was finally big enough to start helping in the forge.

The two of them had spent the rest of the day with each other down there, Nya working steadily on all of the engines while Jay happily talked her through it and through literally every other interest he had ever experienced in his life, but it was still one of Nya’s fondest memories.

The first time she had looked back on the memory, the two of them had been staying in Dr. Julien’s old lighthouse, on the run from Nadakhan.

Leaning against the open window and watching the horizon, Nya had turned around to see Jay messing with some of the gadgets on the room’s only table. They had only been there for a few hours, his gi still crumpled from his time aboard the Misfortune’s Keep.

Almost as if he sensed her gaze, Jay turned around, and Nya’s heart ached at the sight of him; his normally bright blue eyes were dulled with pain that he could barely keep concealed, a long and thick line running right across the one on the left. It was a miracle that he could still see out of it, really, but Nya knew that his vision had been compromised immensely.

She took special care to stay on the right side of his line of sight, cupping his cheek once she was close enough to do so. He leaned into her touch with a shudder, and Nya cringed at the way bruises travelled down his neck, coating his torso in ugly shades of black and blue under the gi.

It was so hard to see him hurting, to know that every breath he took felt like inhaling shards of glass and that his vision would never be cleared whenever he blinked. “Are you okay?”

Jay gave a soft wheeze, his naturally curly hair falling forward and framing his face in a way that he wouldn’t normally allow. “I’ll be fine, Nya. I promise. Just give me a couple days, alright?”

The more worn they are the better, because if they’ve lasted you this long, why wouldn’t they get you a little farther?

No matter how much he had been worn down, how much of his outer paint chipped away and his surface seemingly rusted beyond the point of usage, Jay had always managed to come through for them, for her. Nya guessed that Jay’s pa had been right yet again.

Which all led to this moment, years after the lighthouse, even longer since she had been walked through the first mechanical marvel that had given flight to the Bounty. They were holed up in the monastery’s workshop, a place deep underground so as to not disturb the inhabitants above. It was younger her’s dream, fully stocked with every part she could imagine and loaded with as much metal as they could ever need in as good of a quality as they came. Of course, they still kept a pile of junk from the Walkers’ scrapyard, partly to keep them in business, but mostly because it was Jay’s preferred materials when it came to his projects.

Her Yin was standing at a workbench only a short distance away, working away on a circuit board with his favorite zip-up hoodie on. He turned around, the hoodie falling off of his shoulder and exposing the scars from the Misfortune’s Keep mixed with the figures from his lightning powers.

Somehow, he always knew when she was looking at him.

“Everything okay?” he asked, noticing that she had stopped working on her own project. Weariness was set deep in her bones; it was well past for them to have gone to bed, but Nya knew that Jay would be up for as long as she would be. Insomnia was second-nature to them at this point.

She held her chin in her hand, elbow on the table as she stared at him with half-lidded eyes. How had she gotten so lucky?

Nya shut her eyes when she felt Jay’s arms wrap around her from behind, resting his cheek on top of her head. He was warm, just like all those years ago, and she craved that feeling despite wearing her own fairly thick hoodie.

“Just thinking,” she said, choosing to grasp his forearm when his hand came to rest on her shoulder. Jay hummed, rubbing his thumb along the small sliver of skin exposed by her waist.

“That’s a terrible thing,” he quipped, and Nya chuckled in response. She leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and he looked at her with surprise. Nya was a little surprised herself; she wasn’t normally one for such straightforward affection.

His blue eyes, soft and as loving as they could be, suddenly narrowed in suspicion. “Did I forget an anniversary?”

Maybe it was a little mean, but all Nya could do was laugh. She giggled some more when she saw Jay’s pouting face underlined with worry that she was quick to kiss away. “No, honey, you didn’t forget an anniversary. I’m just remembering the time you were showing me around the Bounty for the first time.”

It took a second before his face cleared of the confusion. “Why were you thinking about that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering how all of this,” she gestured to the workbench piled high with parts, “became more than a hobby, you know?”

“Why wouldn’t it still be a hobby?” Jay asked genuinely. “I mean, you still enjoy it, and that’s enough for it to be a hobby for me.”

Technically, he was right, but it didn’t really help Nya to feel better. “We haven’t really built something fun in a long time, though. Most of what we’ve been making is for missions and the team; kinda sucks the joy right out of it.”

Jay gave her a mischievous smile that made the hair raise on the back of her neck. “Then tomorrow we’ll just have to do something fun. Zane and Pixal can take care of the mechs for a little while. I was just thinking about building us a new toaster with lasers.”

“Lasers?” and Nya could barely get that out before Jay’s lips brushed against her own, and a small spark burned through her body. She didn’t waste a beat, burying her hand into his curly hair when he deepened the kiss.

They never made it back to bed that night.

[writebackatya]

Sorry you have to receive another message about this situation again but

Was there any proof of Shelly grooming anyone?screenshots or anything like that? I feel it’s not very good to accuse someone of that if there is lack of proof that they did so in the first place

Personally, I will no longer be interacting with Shelly due to their interaction with problematic and gross creators but still I felt this needed to be said

Thank you for discussing this; I do feel this is important and thank you for your time

There is no reason to apologize. We all need to be smart about this and make sure our facts are all straight

As for the grooming, in the time I’ve spent searching through Shelly’s art, Twitter and Tumblr accounts, and their art mutual’s Twitter profile; I found no evidence of grooming

I don’t think in any of my posts I accused Shelly of being a groomer, I did however put the tw tags of grooming just because there were mentions of it. And I think in my first post I wrote that anonymous’ accusations were accurate without specifying that it was about their Pokémon art and the people they associate themselves with. So I’ll be sure to go back to my original post and clarify that

I will say that when I got the original message I was working 2nd shift at my job, but it was not a super busy day and I had access to my phone and wanted to get to the bottom of it right away. I did get some interruptions and I did not feel all too comfortable looking through NSFW content of any kind while at work so my research was not the most thorough but I stand by that it was enough for me to let anonymous’ concerns be seen

I will reiterate my findings here. When I was searching through Shelly’s DuckTales artwork I didn’t find anything that made me raise an eyebrow. Any artwork that featured the young characters or characters when they were younger were in no way sexual. The only NSFW artwork I found was with the adult characters. I know everyone has their standards but I personally don’t see anything wrong with NSFW stuff when the character is an established adult

While I was on Shelly’s Twitter I decided to look into their art mutual’s Twitter page that anonymous mentioned and there I immediately found (thankfully) blurred out images of NSFW featuring the kid characters of DuckTales as well as links to the full art. Besides that I found that that artist made various edits to some of Shelly’s NSFW DuckTales artwork. And before you ask, yes I can confirm the two were mutuals following one another and this person wasn’t just a fan of Shelly’s art

After I came across that I just wanted to be sure if Shelly themselves has ever drawn anything that would raise any red flags. I went onto a furry website that I knew reposted art from the sites anonymous mentioned that I did not have access to. I went ahead and searched under Shelly’s name

Again, the DuckTales artwork did not raise any red flags in my book since all the NSFW stuff was with characters like Gyro or Mark Beaks, two characters that we know are adults. It was when I got to the Pokémon art work that the red flags were raised for me

There were a lot of sexual artwork featuring the Pokémon creatures and a good portion of them featured ones I considered cutesy such as Eevee and other little Pokémon that can easily be interpreted as young

The one artwork that made me end up my research and just respond to anonymous’ message was one that featured a Pokémon (I don’t remember which one) and a human character. After clicking on the picture I went down to the tags and saw that the human character was Silver who is a trainer and as far as I know, all the main trainers in any Pokémon games are children

Now past artwork might not be enough for some and that’s fair. Stuff we post in the past may no longer reflect who we are now and Shelly’s current artwork (or at least the stuff I have seen) did not raise any red flags for me but their association with that one DuckTales artist did. And I felt that was enough to warn the younger fans in this fandom about Shelly

Before all this happened, I will say I didn’t personally know Shelly. My interactions with them consisted of me liking and reblogging their artwork as well as a recent WIP preview they wrote

The only time I think they spoke directly to me was on a poll I ran on Tumblr. It was my “How did Della “greet” Gyro when she got back from the moon”. The poll’s options consisted of different acts of violence and pettiness from Della that she would do to Gyro that I felt were just cartoony and in no way mean spirited

I remember I did that poll because I always saw posts from the fandom like “Oh Della deserves to punch Gyro at least once” so I thought it’d be fun to do a poll on what Della did to get her revenge on Gyro for his black licorice gum. I didn’t want it to be too extreme or mean spirited so I tried my best to come up with violent and petty actions that I could see Della doing that were just cartoony. I even threw in a “the two just sat down and had a nice conversation with one another” as an option cause I wanted to be clear “I don’t hate Gyro”

Well Shelly saw the poll. She responded to it on her personal account and thought the poll was mean spirited towards Gyro. I don’t recall everything what their comment said but I do remember that what they wrote sounded very angry and seemed to take the poll really personally

Now to be fair, Shelly doesn’t know me and I can see how one can interpret that even if it wasn’t my intention. To show that the poll was in all good fun and that I don’t hate Gyro I replied to their comment with “but black licorice” because yeah, that’s a lame excuse and it’s the only reason Della is mad at Gyro. They didn’t respond.

A week went by and the results came in, the winner of the poll was “All the above”. After the results came in Shelly once again commented on the post in a rather condescending way, along the lines of “I don’t see why people voted for what they did when Della was to blame but whatever!” I didn’t respond

After that I wanted to show there was no hard feelings from me, so whenever I reblogged their stuff I tried my best to remember to add comments in the tags

Yes I could’ve reached out to them, but I’m bad at doing that to people I don’t really know. And looking back on everything, I’m glad I didn’t

[dreamonminecraft]

prev ask, i wanna clarify some things because i agree with the points u made and i think i worded some things poorly. by calling what happened a misunderstanding i meant it in the broadest sense - just that he thought what he was doing was fine and she didn’t. i agree with you, it’s not his fault he didn’t realize, i acknowledging that the thing that happened was, by both of their accounts, not him deliberately violating consent.

in an ideal world, dream and george should have been firmer in their boundaries and her friends shouldn’t have left her alone if they suspected she was uncomfortable. i’m pretty sure caiti said that the screenshots he shared of her friends trying to get invited were not texts from her, just the friends. i don’t think saying she had no reason to be scared of him or trying to prove she wasn’t scared is a productive line of thought to have. ultimately her being scared of saying no is important as a point of reflection on what needs to be done to avoid situations like this in the future, not because it was specific failure of anyone involved.

i hope this doesn’t come of as argumentative because i’ve really appreciated the rest of your posts, that one just rubbed me the wrong way.

I think it was my wording, honestly. I tried to write it in a way that didn't come off like that because I do agree with you, and that's why I added the disclaimer at the top. I don't think there's any point in anyone trying to prove anything about how anyone felt that night. The people who were there have already chosen their sides and shared their thoughts, whether they remember clearly what happened or not we'll never know, and the rest of us weren't there so why bother. My point truly was just that I think she (and truly twitter, which she seems to be taking most of her talking points from) seems to think that he should have been able to read nonexistent signals while drunk when she herself says she didn't know she was uncomfortable until the next morning or later.