#i dont know why he wants to be sad for you
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(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)
i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.
and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).
so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.
so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.
I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).
So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".
But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.
#like... ive been trying for weeks to come up with reasoning that feels better than “He Is Faking It And Rook Believed It (What A Sucker)”#so far i think. with a lot of extra work/headcanon.#i could buy it as a trauma response about it being the first non-harmful touch he experiences since the ossuary#and not expecting himself to get anxious halfway through/not intending to need to bail out#but i haven't fully formulated that yet. but man does the “pretending” angle hit wrong for me :(#fine if other people like it! it just makes me feel sad :(#ramblings#lucanisposting#lucanis dellamorte#jade plays dav#dav critical#veilguard critical#bioware critical#discovered i have already been Blocked by ppl for my previous Lucanis Takes so might as well cement the deal i guess lol#dragon age: veilguard /#dragon age: the veilguard /#datv spoilers#da4 spoilers#i THINK that kind of tagging works for keeping out of tags but on post filtering???? i hope. anyway#also i LOVE being Sad about bioware romances in other ways (Solas; Thane; etc) so its not Just That its specifically feeling Tricked yknow
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growing pains
But you’re tired of pretending. “Why am I here, Steve?” “I thought we already established it’s because you walked in the snow.” He’s dodging. Avoiding the question and the truths that will come with it. “Steve.” Hissing his name is familiar, it feels more natural. This is how it should be between you. Anger, disdain, raw. “And there it is,” He winces. “The fighting begins. We lasted, what? Ten minutes? Merry Christmas to us.”
Summary: steve buys you shitty coffee five years after your breakup.
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: fem! reader, use of y/n, exes!au, slight unhealthy relationship if u squint, ambiguous ending (kinda)
Words: 8k
Before you swing in: hi my dears ! heres a very sad/bittersweet coffee shop conversation with far too many flashbacks and miscommunication. yummy ! unintentionally made this a christmas fic, so the bleachers song merry christmas please dont call is very fitting lmao. enjoy !
-
A flurry of snow coats Hawkins. Christmas lights reflect off the pristine white as the quiet stills everything in the town. There are no cars that drive past you. Hardly anyone littering the sidewalk as your footsteps trace a path in the freshly fallen snow. In the small, rundown cafe there is only one other patron brave enough to face the winter cold.
The bell above the door signals your arrival.
Steve looks up at you.
The flush of cold air stains your cheeks a ruddy red, though his gaze tinges the hue pink. The blush gives away the fondness you hoped you had buried below your sternum; but the fondness is still there. It will always be there.
Steve gestures silently, offering you the seat in front of him. He’s chosen a small table in the back of the room. Secluded. Private. But he doesn’t stand to greet you.
You sit. The cold makes your body slow. Steve’s presence makes your posture stiff. Your hands remain folded in your lap. You don’t place them on the table, too reminiscent of the times he would reach across and interlace your fingers together.
The deliberate act is small, your only defiance, but still, after all these years, Steve sees it for what it really is. You’re still exactly as he remembers. The corner of his lip twitches, hiding a smile that you still know the weight of. How it felt against your own lips.
“The whole town is buzzing about a white Christmas. We haven’t gotten snow like this in years.”
Inconsequential. Steve’s first words to you in five years are inconsequential.
There are still flecks of snow on your clothes. A snowflake melts slowly on your scarf. You watch its demise. There is nothing you want to say to him.
Steve shifts slightly. Clears his throat. You still make him nervous. “I wasn’t sure you’d still come.”
“I walked.” Your first words to Steve are inconsequential, too.
“In all this snow?” His surprise is soft, bordering on amusement. He takes his coat off, and underneath is a cheesy holiday sweater that makes your throat clench. “Aren’t you freezing?”
You shake your head. “I like the cold.”
And then Steve smiles. Genuine, it stretches across his entire face. “Yeah,” a breathy laugh that echoes in your ears. “I remember.”
–
“I can’t feel my legs.” Steve whines, lagging behind you as the two of you trek through the snow. You’re at the bottom of the hill, still a long way from the top. “How are you still alive?”
You’re flushed in excitement and youth. The apples of your cheeks match the pink hat that keeps sliding into your eyes. Planting your feet firmly into the snow, you continue to climb. “It’s not that cold.”
“It’s freezing–shit!” Steve slips on a patch of ice. His voice cracks as he yelps, and you giggle at his embarrassment. He glares at you. “Please don’t laugh at me. I’m miserable here, Y/N.”
“You’re the one who wanted to come. I was perfectly happy going sledding alone.” You’re halfway up the hill now. The flimsy plastic tube you’re using to sled hangs loosely from your hand. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Steve scoffs. “God forbid I try to be romantic and go sledding with my girlfriend.”
Your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink. It still feels weird, hearing him call you his girlfriend. The word is new, foreign, but the warmth that accompanies it is one that you hope you never get used to.
“Besides, who even goes sledding alone?” Steve continues, still pathetically behind you. “What if you got hurt? No good boyfriend should allow that to happen.”
You snort. “What, are you my knight in shining armor now?” Shifting low, you start scooping up some snow. “Is that what you want me to say?”
“All I’m saying is that I’m totally a saint.”
You laugh, now packing the snow into your hands as you form a snowball. “Oh, I’m sure you are.” Steve hasn’t noticed what you’re doing yet. He doesn’t know that in a matter of seconds you’ll cover his face in snow. Sneaking a glance at him, your breath catches.
There are snowflakes in Steve’s hair. A few kiss his cheeks, dancing along his freckles. The brown of his eyes glow warm ember in the white snow. His skin is pink, alive and pure. He’s beautiful. Devastatingly beautiful in a way that makes you ache.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Steve asks you, face wrinkling in confusion.
You cough, embarrassed to have been caught. The snow in your hands starts to sting. The pain grounds you, clears your mind, and you try to pretend that the molasses in your bloodstream isn’t love.
Throwing the snowball, it explodes in Steve’s face. He shrieks, sputtering at the cold shock. “Y/N!”
You laugh, loud and happily. Your ribs ache and your breaths escape your lungs in a burn that soothes you. Steve lunges toward you, hands finding your waist as he pulls you close. He grips you tightly, he can feel your laughter in his chest.
“You’ll pay for that!” he buries his nose in your neck and you squeal, laughing even harder. Steve pulls you impossibly closer. He relishes in your warmth. He relishes in the way you squeal when he starts to tickle you.
Warm. Everything about you is warm.
You are sunshine against Steve’s skin.
–
Someone else walks into the cafe, the sound of the bell echoes in the chasm between you and Steve. There are no more snowflakes on your scarf. The warmth of the cafe is stifling, although there is a comforting familiarity to it.
“How are you?”
Another inconsequential question, although you can’t fault Steve for it. He’s trying. More than you are, anyways. But what are you supposed to say? What are you supposed to do, seeing your first love after five years of silence and absence?
“Fine.” The response falls flat, mundane. Disinterested. Wincing, you really do try to sound as if you want to be here. “Good. I-I’ve been good.”
“Yeah?” Steve raises his eyebrow, leaning in. “I mean, I’m not surprised.”
Your shoulders tense. “What do you mean?”
Seeing your unease, Steve quickly explains himself. “Shit. That sounded ominous. I’m sorry,” he runs his fingers through his hair. The same way he used to do when he was seventeen. “What I meant is that Robin told me. About what you’ve been up to these last few years.”
Your shoulders drop. Of course Robin still talks to him about you. You suppose it’s only fair, seeing as how she tells you about him, too. She remained friends with you both after the breakup. She hadn’t wanted to take anyone’s side, and she’s kept true to that.
“What has she told you?”
It’s a real question. You know Robin would never tell Steve anything embarrassing or incriminating. But curiously gnaws at you.
“Nothing bad, unfortunately.” Steve gently teases, but his prodding is only met with your uninterested gaze. He sighs, clears his throat. “She told me you moved to New York. Nearly screamed my ear off when your publishing deal got accepted. It’s pretty incredible.”
Your fingers pick at the skin underneath your nails. “It’s only for one book.”
“Five years, and you still can’t accept a compliment.”
“You’d be surprised by what can change in five years,” your eyes avoid his. “Is the coffee any good here?”
“It’s terrible,” Steve slides his mug over to you. Steam rises from the black liquid inside. “Milk and sugar. Hope it’s still how you like it.”
You take a sip, cringing at the taste. You’ve come to prefer your coffee black, bitter but rich. The coffee Steve has bought you is too sweet, but you drink more anyways. It gives you something to do.
“I’ve been good, too. Thanks for asking.” Steve leans against his seat, placing his hands behind his head. He’s as coy as ever. The years haven’t made him humble. “I’m sure you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering.” You set the mug down. “I heard you made history being the youngest English teacher at Hawkins High.”
Steve’s mouth parts in shock. In another life, you pinch his lips together and kiss the tip of his nose. In another life, five years ago, you did.
But not this life. “Robin talks about you, too.”
“Of course she does,” Steve echoes your earlier thoughts. He leans back again, eyes never leaving your face. “Were you surprised? Steve Harrington. English teacher.”
The answer comes easily. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” you twist the mug around. Steve stares at you and you wish he would stop. He’ll see through you, he’ll see the fondness and he’ll know everything you’ve tried to erase. “You were always interested in what I was reading. You didn’t hide it very well.”
Steve smiles to himself, his own fondness leaking over. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t.”
He could never hide anything from you.
–
You’re in the classics section of Hawkins’ library. You wanted to check out a few books they recently collected. The librarian has your personal landline. You’ve spent more and more time in the building, reading all of the greatest authors.
Steve always comes with you.
“Look, Y/N. I adore you, but if there aren’t any ass-kicking spies or alien babes, then I’m not reading it.” He shoves the book you hold in front of him away. “What the hell is a Brontie, anyways?”
“It’s Bronte,” you poke Steve’s cheek. “And I really need you to stop pretending that you don’t know these authors. It’s gotta be exhausting.”
He grabs the hand poking his face and twists it, forcing you to spin and land against his chest. “I’m not pretending, sweetheart. I don’t know any of these names.”
Steve claims he comes to the library with you because he gets lonely without you, but you’ve caught him rifting through Albert Camus and Erich Fromm. He could spend hours paging through their works.
But you’ll allow him to keep this one secret from you.
“C’mon,” you laugh, tugging Steve’s arm towards a new section. “Help me find Fyodor Dostoevsky. I want to study the way he writes his characters’ inner monologues.”“No way that’s a real name.”
You laugh again. “Just shut up and help me, please.”
Eventually you find Dostoevsky and you become engrossed in his words. They’re intricate and complex, yet there’s a simplicity and plainness that strikes you. You write down a flurry of notes, not wanting to forget a thing; one day you want to command words the way all the authors you’ve studied seemed to do.
You’re so lost in the world Dostoevsky has built, that you don’t notice Steve’s absence until he returns again.
“Hey, check this out.” He’s holding a book, his finger saving the line he wants to show you. “This Pablo Neruda dude was like, a total romantic. Wanna hear?”
You lean against the bookshelf, curious. “Are you going to read to me?”
The only response is Steve’s charming smile. He steps closer to you, your breath mixes with his. “‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving.’”
He closes the book, but he doesn’t move away. Your foreheads touch.
“Love”. A word neither one of you has said until now. Until Steve read you a poem and uttered the word three separate times.
He loves you, and you love him.
Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him. Steve kisses you back.
–
“Do you enjoy it?”
Steve drums his fingers on the table. “Enjoy what?”
“Being someone that kids look up to.”
He breathes out slowly. “I forgot how much you love asking heavy questions.”
You finally look at him. “You’re the one that asked to meet for coffee.”
“Fair point,” Steve scratches the back of his head. “Thank you, by the way. For agreeing.”
“I was in town.” You look away again. “The holidays. And the wedding, I guess. Nancy asked me to come.”
“I still can’t believe she got Byers to agree to a winter wedding.” Steve shakes his head, smiles to himself. “Anyways, to answer your shockingly emotional question: I do enjoy it. I love teaching. I love being someone that kids can come to. Is it terrifying? Absolutely. But selfishly, I like to think I’m good at it.”
Even though you don’t want to, you smile at him. “You’ve always been good with kids.”
Steve doesn’t expect your sincerity. The praise is small, a throwaway comment more than anything else, but it’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him in years. He’s suddenly shy, ducking his head. “I don’t know. Those little bastards were really difficult to handle.”
The little bastards being Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, and El. The kids you grew up with, a consequence of being neighbors with the Wheelers. One day there was a kid on your doorstep demanding you let him use your old scooter.
Mike had been only nine then, but he had been fierce and persuasive. After giving the scooter over, Mike forced you into his life. Then the rest of the party’s lives.
Nancy came later, then Jonathan, and then, eventually, Steve.
“They admired you.” You tell Steve, honest. “They still do.”
He blushes again. “You really think so?”
“I remember more than you think,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I remember everything, too.”
–
The morning of the kids’ graduation, it’s a blur of packed cars and nervous excitement. Steve offered to drive everyone, giving the parents time to get situated and find seats at the high school.
“Your car reeks.” Mike kicks Steve’s seat.
He glares at the kid. “Why didn’t you ride in Nancy’s car, then?”
“Her and Jonathan are gross.”
Lucas fixes his graduation cap. “They whisper to themselves a lot. It’s creepy.”
Max elbows him. “It’s because they’re in love, doofus.”
“Steve and Y/N are in love, and you don’t see them whispering to themselves.” Dustin points out, which you laugh at.
“I’ll be sure to never whisper to Steve with you guys around.”
Will pokes the back of your head. “Can you tell your boyfriend to drive faster? If we’re late, I think Hopper might actually kill him.”
“My dad would not kill Steve.” El corrects. “He would only hurt him. A lot.”
Steve pales slightly, stepping on the gas. “Alright. Guess we’re getting a speeding ticket, then.”
You end up arriving at the high school with a few minutes to spare. All the kids run out the car, throwing a quick thanks as they scatter. They’re gone in a heartbeat, a mass of green caps and gowns.
“We’ll see you guys on stage!” You shout through the window, waving as they leave.
“Remember how nervous we were when we graduated?” Steve asks you.
You shake your head fondly at the memory. “You wouldn’t stop sneezing. I had no idea you were a nervous sneezer until then. Robin thought it was the most embarrassing thing ever. I contemplated breaking up with you.”“It’s a debilitating condition, Y/N.”
The graduation is long, but with six separate kids to listen for and cheer on, it passes quickly. When their names get called, you and Steve are the loudest ones who cheer. Robin calls you guys dramatic, but she screams her heart out when Dustin walks the stage.
Nancy cries when Mike walks, and Jonathan, who had only just stopped crying after seeing Will walk, has to hold back his tears yet again as he consoles her.
The five of you are a mess, and when the kids find you after graduation, you aren’t sure who starts running first. They swarm you, arms encase you and you hold onto them tightly. Will is crying, El can’t stop jumping, the kids are all a mix of emotions, yet they all remain fixated on Steve.
“Did you see the way I walked?”
“I waved at you! Did you see me?”
“You’re really loud when you scream, ya know that?”
“A poster would’ve nice. Just saying.”
All their eyes are on him. Their questions directed at him, eager to be answered. They seek Steve’s praise, like sunflowers following the sun’s rays.
As you stand back, watching the way Steve is so loved by the kids, you fall in love with him all over again.
–
Steve picks at the frayed edges of his old jacket. It’s the same one he bought with you, back when winter in Hawkins was warm and yellow and light. Now everything is dull. Grey and bleak.
“I never thought that you’d forget.” He acknowledges your hurtful words. He doesn’t like their implications. “I’d never think that.”
Steve’s clipped words make you defensive. Heat rises to your face. It makes your heartbeat spike. “There are a lot of things I thought you’d never do.”
He sucks in a breath.
The cafe is quiet again. Your coffee remains untouched, cold.
Steve finally tears his eyes from you, and the loss of his gaze feels colder than you expected it to. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To see his disdain for you on his pretty face, for him to hurt how you had. Isn’t that why you agreed to this?
The way Steve’s entire demeanor changes, how quickly his smile slips from his face, makes you question why you’re even here. Suddenly you want to take it all back. To mold his face into a happier one, get him to look at you again and trick yourself into believing that the tenderness in his eyes is real.
“I’m sorry.” The apology comes out fast, the words mesh together, but it’s the best you can manage. “That… that was mean.”
“I think mean is fair.” Steve looks at you, his lighthearted smile is back, but it doesn’t shine like before. “Honestly, I’m relieved you’re being mean.”
You’re confused. Everything he does confuses you. “Is that why you asked me to coffee? Because you wanted me to be mean to you?”
“Partially.” He sips your discarded coffee and quickly spits it out. He wipes his mouth, gagging. “Jesus, that’s fucking rancid. I don’t even know why I did that. I hate coffee, and it’s even worse when it’s cold.”
He’s making a whole show of this. The way Steve talks to you, the questions he’s asking and the way he responds to whatever you tell him. He’s trying to recreate something that isn’t there anymore. Treating your time in the coffee shop together as if you’re two friends catching up.
But you’re tired of pretending. “Why am I here, Steve?”
“I thought we already established it’s because you walked in the snow.”
He’s dodging. Avoiding the question and the truths that will come with it.
“Steve.” Hissing his name is familiar, it feels more natural. This is how it should be between you. Anger, disdain, raw.
“And there it is,” He winces. “The fighting begins. We lasted, what? Ten minutes? Merry Christmas to us.”
Fed up, you slam your chair back and stand. If Steve wants to evade every question and act as if this is all some giant joke, then he can go fuck himself.
The sudden motion makes Steve jump, but he quickly stands up with you when he realizes that you’re leaving. “Shit, wait–”
Steve’s hand grazes yours and you flinch away, reeling back. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Y/N…” He stands still, the venom in your voice cementing him to the ground. In all the time he’s known you, you’ve never rejected his touch. Bitterly, he thinks that you were right about what you said when you first arrived at the cafe.
A lot can change in five years.
You press the back of your hand to your forehead, trying to calm yourself down. Even though there’s no one else in the shop, you still don’t want to cause a scene. Not here. Not like this.
“This was a mistake.” You swallow down bile. Steve still manages to get such a vulgar rise out of you, and you hate it. “At Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding, we won’t speak to one another. We won’t ruin their day, and you can sit with Robin. I don’t care. We can just pretend that we don’t–”
Your words die in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to finish them.
“That we don’t what, Y/N?” Steve knows exactly what you mean to say. He narrows his eyes at you, pushes you to lay the final blow.
Your breath stutters. Your body is cold. You may still make Steve nervous, but he still makes you nervous as well. He can still cut through you viciously in a way only someone who has truly loved you can.
He stands before you, begging. “Say it.”
You’ve always been weak for him. “That we don’t hate each other.”
But your words are meaningless. As if you could ever hate each other.
Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “The one thing I can’t do when it comes to you is hate you.”
“Steve–” You want to take it all back. You shouldn’t have said it. You don’t know why you even said it, but you did.
“I can go five years without hearing your voice. I can wake up without you next to me. I can spend the rest of my life regretting that I lost you.” Steve doesn’t move, he doesn’t come near you. He’s hurt and he’s in pain and you don’t know how to be the one to help him anymore. “But what I can’t do, the only thing I can’t do, is hate you.”
–
The bay window caught your eye first. Then it was the rich brown wood floors, and then the garden that overlooks Lover’s Lake. Inside the apartment there are vintage tiles that you adore and the baby-blue walls make you feel faint.
The home Steve finds for the two of you is, unsurprisingly, perfect.
“Do we really get to live here?” You ask, breathless as you wander through the empty hallways and bedroom. Never before have you had such endless space to yourself. It feels very adult, very final, and you wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to experience this first with than Steve.
“We better get to live here.” Steve huffs, setting down another box. You tried offering to help, but he scoffed at the idea and told you to admire the apartment instead. “The deposit was fucking expensive.”
Your fingers brush over the cream white curtains. They’re soft beneath your touch. “At least your dad was kind enough to pay it.”
“And if by ‘kind enough’, you mean ‘wanted his son to move out already’, you’d be right.”
“Same difference.”
Steve laughs and the sound echoes through the empty room that you know you’ll have years together to fill. You already have a million things you want to purchase for the apartment. Steve’s only request had been that you make the apartment feel like a home.
As if anywhere with Steve doesn’t already feel like a home.
Later in the night you order pizza, starving and exhausted from moving. There’s no table for you and Steve to sit at. No chairs to rest on. You eat your first meal in your new home on the floor, surrounded by boxes and laughter.
It’s perfect.
“While I’m grateful for Mrs. Wheeler for giving us her spare bedding and all,” Steve wraps the blanket tighter around the two of you. The bed beneath you is lumpy and old, the only furniture that came with the apartment, but a bed is a bed. “I feel weird sleeping in her sheets.”
You press your nose against Steve’s neck, feeling your bones sag with relief. “She’s hot. I’d sleep in her sheets any day.”
Steve chokes on his spit, falling into a coughing fit while you giggle hysterically. He hits his chest, tries to suck air back in, and you’re laughing so hard there’s tears in your eyes.
“You can’t just say that!” He sputters, still coughing.
“I know you were thinking it!” You giggle again, your smile presses against Steve’s cheek. His body is warm and soft and he smells like home; it's addicting. He’s still coughing when you kiss his cheek and brush his hair back. “Can you stop dying already? I’m trying to kiss you here.”
Steve wraps his arms around you and throws his body on top, smushing you beneath him. You squeal, giggling even harder now as he litters your skin with feathery kisses. “You’re trying to kiss me, huh?”
His nose runs down your cheek. Down across your forehead, to the tips of your ears. He kisses every inch of skin he can reach. “I don’t think you’re doing much kissing here, Y/N.” Steve kisses your eyebrow. His lips skim your chin, they linger in your laugh lines as endless laughter pours from you.
“It-it tickles!” More laughter, you try to shove Steve away, but he places all his weight against you and kisses the apples of your cheeks. His fingers curl around your waist, nails digging in softly. He has you right where he wants you.
“Kiss me,” he breathes into you. Over and over he repeats himself, kissing you with every enunciation. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”
Steve begs you and you ache. He never has to ask you. You would do anything for him.
You tilt your head, find his lips, and you get lost in each other. He kisses you slowly, intentionally. With a softness that makes you shiver. He whispers how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and the syrup in your lungs simmers.
“I love you,” you murmur, lips kissing his chest. “I think you’re my favorite person in the world.”
A childish praise, but it’s everything to Steve.
–
Steve orders you another coffee. Black this time, no sugar. The barista brings the cup over when it’s ready, the steam the only source of warmth between you and him.
Snow falls outside and Steve hasn’t been able to look at you since you sat back down.
You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here. Neither one of you talk. There is no more disingenuous small talk between you. No more forced smiles. Polite questions about how the other has been.
All there that remains between you and Steve is the absence of what was.
“Robin said we’d only last five minutes.”
You remember the surprise on her face when you told her you’d accept Steve’s offer for coffee. She didn’t think you’d say yes, and the surprise quickly morphed into skepticism. She placed her book down, patted your hand, and told you good luck.
Steve laughs, short and staccato. “She has such shit faith in us. We’re nearing twelve minutes now.”
“We’re stubborn.” The coffee is disgusting even without the excess sweetness. Steve is right. The coffee here is truly horrible.
“If I remember correctly, you’ve always been the more stubborn one.” He isn’t mean when he says this. More observant, stating a fact.
You set the coffee down. “And if I remember correctly, you hit your head a lot when we were kids.”
A small smile. “Which would mean?”
“That it’s possible you don’t remember anything correctly.” You tug at your scarf. “Maybe I wasn’t as stubborn as you’re remembering.”
Steve laughs this time, a real laugh that melts the ice that froze over moments ago. “Whenever we argued, you never let me get a word in. I’ll never forget that. I would’ve found it impressive, if it weren’t directed at me.”
Snippets of memories flash through your mind. You and Steve hardly argued throughout your entire relationship, but when you did, the fallout was always scattered pieces.
“Doesn’t mean I’m stubborn.” You say weakly, still not quite ready to admit otherwise.
“I’d argue with you, but I was hoping we’d make it to fifteen minutes.” Steve takes your coffee, sips it again and cringes like he did before. Only he doesn’t say anything this time.
“Is there a prize if we make it to fifteen?”
He smiles into the coffee. “Possibly.”
Silence again.
Steve keeps the mug in his hands, using its warmth to soothe his cold fingers. Years ago, he would use the heat of your hands to warm him. But your hands remain folded in your lap and you no longer want his touch.
The silence eats at you. You bite your lip, twist your fingers together. You don’t know why you stayed, but you don’t know why Steve stayed, either.
“I was pretty stubborn, wasn’t I?”
Steve looks at you. His eyes shine for a brief moment. “Maybe a little.”
–
Shortly after moving into your apartment, you started writing. After years of reading other people’s stories, you felt that it was time to write your own. But finding the story was difficult. Every night you stared at your blank pages, willing them to fill with the words you were unable to write.
As for Steve, he started picking up spare shifts at the local diner. He hated being a waiter. He thought it was degrading, but as a twenty-two year old with no college degree or work experience, it was all he could do.
Money was tight, you were both starting to feel the weight of truly being on your own. You weren’t just two kids anymore. There were real responsibilities now. Grappling with your futures rather than imagining them.
And then one day you got a phone call that changed everything.
“I can’t miss this interview!”
“And I can’t just leave work in the middle of the day to drive you, Y/N.” Steve sighs deeply over the phone. You can practically envision the way he pinches the bridge of his nose and tugs at his hair. It’s grown long. Longer than it’s ever been before. You like it this way.
You glance at your watch and curse, frustrated tears burning your eyes. “Steve, please. This could make or break my entire future.”
“Sweetheart, I understand that, but if I leave work early, I’m getting fired.”
“You don’t know that!” You need him to say yes. You need him to drop everything for you and drive you to Bedford so that you can meet with a literary agent and discuss your work.
It all happened so fast. One moment you were sending yet another draft of short story ideas to random agents. The next, you’re getting a phone call offering an interview in a town an hour away from Hawkins.
None of it felt real. That is, until the catch fell against you: the agent can only meet today and you don’t have a car.
“David explicitly told me that if I leave work early one more time, my ass is grass.” Steve rubs his face, exhausted. He wants to help you, he wants you to finally get your big break. You’re far too talented for Hawkins, you deserve to be somewhere better; but the reality is that you can’t afford it right now. “Can’t someone else drive you?”
“I already called everyone else.” Your face is hot from anxiety. “Robin. Nancy. Jonathan. Hell, even Mike and the kids! But no one can take me and I have to be there in two hours.”
“Y/N…”
Your head falls against the wall. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Steve’s heart clenches. He sucks in a breath. “I know that, okay? I-I do. But I can’t afford to lose this job. We’re already behind on rent, we still owe my dad for the deposit–”
“But you can always get another job!” You exclaim, losing whatever grasp you have left of your sanity. “I mean, Jesus, Steve. You’re just a waiter.”
The line is silent for a moment.
“I’m sorry?”
His tone is quiet, it laces guilt into your veins.
“I-I just meant that there’s a shitload of restaurants in Hawkins,” you’re rambling now, regretting everything. You shouldn’t have called. You shouldn’t have said what you did. But now it’s too late and you’re in too deep. Letting out a breath, your lips tremble. “But there’s only one literary agent who wants to meet with me.”
There’s yelling in the background. Steve mumbles something to someone, you think you hear David yelling at him to get back to work. Muffled rustling, followed by a string of curses.
“I gotta get back to work.” Steve says curtly, not even giving you a chance to respond before he’s already hanging up the phone.
The dial tone rings in your ear.
You never make it to your interview.
Steve gets home late that night. He walks past you, he doesn’t acknowledge you besides the slam of the bedroom door.
–
“I never apologized to you.”
Steve sets the mug down. He doesn’t ask you what you mean. “No, you didn’t.”
You swallow. “I… I’m really sorry, Steve.”
He shrugs. It was a long time ago. He’s forgotten the sting of your words. The marks they left have long since faded. “It was your dream.”
“But you were more than just a waiter. Hell, you were the only reason we didn’t lose the apartment.” You rub the back of your neck, relieving the tension that knots it. “God, I was so fucking naive. I’m sorry for not realizing sooner, for not appreciating everything you did for us.”
Steve shrugs again. “We were just kids.”
The coffee you drank suddenly sinks in your stomach.
We were just kids.
Sometimes you forget that your relationship with Steve had been your childhood. The two of you met when you were fifteen, fell in love when you were seventeen, and fell apart when you were twenty-three.
You’d been so young together. The mistakes you made, the hurt you caused, were childish gashes with bullet-sized exit wounds.
“We were just kids, weren’t we?” The nostalgia in your voice surprises even you.
A fond smile ghosts Steve’s face. It’s barely there, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. “Young and in love. Now we’re just old.”
“At least we aged well.”
Steve raises his eyebrow at you. “Was that a compliment, Y/N?”
You smile, coy. “Who said anything about you? I was referring to myself.”
Steve scoffs, light hearted. You expect him to retaliate, to tease you how you’re teasing him. Instead, his gaze softens. He leans forward, drawn into you as he always is, and lowers his voice. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”
Years separate you and Steve. It’s been nearly a decade since love first tied you to each other. There used to be a knot, tied into something intricate, small, yet lovely, that connected you to Steve.
And yet, with one sentence, the strings come together again.
“I still haven’t forgotten,” you fall back in your seat, away from Steve. “How you hurt me.”
He mirrors your body language, moving away as well. “And what about how you hurt me?”
You cross your arms. Steve crosses his. Staring at one another, a stalemate is reached. The memories that tie you together are both your vice and your virtue. The love is still remembered, it’s still warm to the touch, but so is the hurt.
Robin would call you both childish if she were here right now. You can practically hear her now, annoyance in her voice as she rolls her eyes at the staring contest unfolding. She’s always resented how stubborn you both are.
“Why did you call me?”
Steve inhales sharply. He knows he has to answer the question. It’s only fair that he gives you an explanation for why he decided to call you at three in the morning the Friday before your plane was due to arrive in Hawkins’ small airport for Christmas and a wedding you both were invited to.
But he can’t. Not yet, at least.
“If it makes me look any better, I called Robin first.” Steve forces a laugh out. “Granted, she told that if I called you that I’d probably die. But still. Blame her.”
Everything unravels after that.
“You never showed up.”
“Y/N.”
A crack to the surface, followed by a fist of anger that shatters everything. “You promised me you’d be there.”
“I was dick, I know–”
“Do you know how humiliated I was?” Steve winces, and his shame only enrages you more. “How utterly shitty it was when all our friends, our families, asked me where you were, and I couldn’t answer them?”
“Y/N, please just let me explain–”
“No.” The mug spills over as you hit the table, standing up furiously. You’re crying. You don’t remember the tears building. “You don’t get to call me in the middle of the night, buy me dogshit coffee, and then spoon feed me shitty excuses! You were my boyfriend, I wanted to marry you, and you abandoned me.”
“Is the coffee really that bad?”
Your jaw clenches. Steve rubs his neck, looking everywhere but at you. He’s trying to be funny. His first words to you in five years were inconsequential, and now he’s trying to use humor to ease the sting of guilt that he feels seeing you.
The decision is an easy one.
“Goodbye, Steve.”
His hand grips yours before you can even turn away. Startled by his sudden touch, you don’t pull back. Not this time, at least. You’re frozen, staring at Steve as he stares at you. He’s pale. His chest heaves and there’s terror in his eyes.
“Don’t.” It’s all he can say to you.
“Let me go.” But still you don’t pull away.
Let us go. Please.
“I…” He blinks, almost winces to himself. Steve doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. Not anymore. Not like how he used to. But you’re pulling away again and he’s just gotten you back and he can’t lose you. Not again. “I resented you.”
Your back straightens. “Excuse me?”
“I-I know how bad it sounds, but if you just–” Steve gestures behind him, tries to sit you back down. But you don’t move. His eyes plead with you. “Y/N, please.”
He looks so akin to the boy you once knew. The resemblance twists the tendons in your chest, forces the air out of your lungs. You don’t move, but you don’t leave, either.
Steve accepts all that you’ll give him.
–
The home you built with Steve loses its warmth. Lazy Sunday mornings cease to exist. He doesn’t hold you at night. Dates go unplanned, dinners eaten alone. Laughter dies and you stop waiting for Steve to come home. Everything stills. Lost in a time capsule that was once your dream.
Winter comes and the snow that blankets Hawkins softens the dull ache of the distance that’s built between you and Steve. He starts taking night classes at a local community college and you spend your nights writing.
The first story you write is about a lonely barn owl who hops through dwindling branches trying to find its mate. The creature calls out for someone, its wails echoing through the deserted forest that once was alive with creation.
A snowflake that gets lost in a storm that it created becomes your second story. Its frail, lithe body too transparent to be anything other than alone.
Then you write about a dandelion that mourns for its seeds that have been cruelly torn from its body.
Over and over you write about loss. How cold it leaves a person, the emptiness that can never quite be filled.
In the end, it’s this sense of loss that gives you everything you’ve ever wanted, yet leaves you with nothing to show for it.
“I sent my writing to a short story show. I got in.”
Steve unbuttons his work shirt. He worked a double shift at the restaurant, but spares you a tired smile. “That’s great.”
The praise is small, but the rarity of it makes it feel like gold upon your skin. Cheeks flushed, you smile back at him shyly. “Thank you.”
Steve goes back to changing out of his clothes and you’re left to deal with the silence that always seems to follow you these days. Your feet carry you to the bed, sitting down gently as you watch him. He doesn’t shy away from your gaze, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, either.
“The show is in two weeks. Christmas Eve.”
“Oh,” Steve pauses in the closet’s doorway. His hand rests on an old sweater you got him when you first started dating. He pulls out a different one instead. “Well. I already took the day off, so I’ll come.”
You try not to focus on the fact that he makes attending sound like an obligation. A dull chore he has to complete.
“Robin already promised she’d be front row. Jonathan and Nancy, too.” You get up, stand behind Steve, rest your head on the back of his neck and encircle your arms around him. He stiffens at the touch, so do you. But you can’t let him go. “I think even some of the kids will come. And my parents, obviously.”
“Sounds like you’ll have an entire crowd devoted to you.”
“Yeah, but I only really want you there.” You whisper, vulnerable.
Steve sucks in a breath, releases it. He doesn’t say anything else.
The next two weeks you read your collection of short stories aloud for hours on end. You rehearse how to present them, the right cadence and intonations. How to make the loneliness heavier, the serenity sweeter. You don’t let Steve listen, claiming you want to surprise him alongside everyone else the day of the show.
Later, you’ll come to understand that you had been afraid of how he’d react. If he’d even react at all.
The show is a haze of people and praise. Robin brings you flowers, Jonathan takes pictures of you with all the kids. Dustin surprises you with an old leather journal he found for you to write all your ideas in and El hands you a ribbon to bind it.
Your mother cries and your father hugs you warmly. Mrs. Wheeler and Nancy bring Christmas cookies and organize the large audience you’ve built for yourself in the seats provided by the show. It takes two entire rows to seat everyone you love.
Robin saves a seat for Steve. He’s late.
The night is spent listening to brilliant writers reading their stories to a small, but kind, audience. There are a total of eight featured writers. You’re scheduled to read your writing last.
After the second writer finishes, you look anxiously over at the audience and bite your lip when you still don’t see Steve. The fifth writer goes on and your nails are bloody from picking at them. Mike murmurs something to Robin, who shakes her head and nervously shifts in her seat, eyes never leaving the empty seat next to her.
The seventh writer shares a story about newfound love and its warmth.
Nancy finds your gaze and the pitying look in her eyes makes your nausea even worse.
You stand in front of a mass of people who lean into every word you read aloud. The seat next to Robin remains empty.
Steve never comes.
And it’s the last time you ever wait for him.
–
“I really was proud of you, you know.” Steve says softly, regretfully. “Robin told me you won an award later that night.”
“I did.” The award had been your ticket out of Hawkins. It got you money, connections with publishing agents. You moved to New York not even a week later.
Steve looks down. “I should’ve been there.”
You don’t bother to agree with him. You don’t want to coddle him, lessen the guilt he feels for how cruelly he hurt you. You’ll never forget the pit that formed in your stomach when you realized he wasn’t coming.
“I regret what I did. Every single day I wish I had gone.”
“You resented me instead, apparently.” Your laugh is cruel, cold.
Steve sits back down numbly, his body falls and the seat beneath him catches it. He places his hands on the table, slowly, defeated. He looks up at you, allows himself to finally confess everything. “I resented how easy everything seemed for you. I mean, you were making a name for yourself while I waited shitty tables and slept through grueling night courses.”
You clench your fists, still refusing to sit down. “And that gave you a right to diminish my own accomplishments?”
“Nothing makes sense when you’re twenty-three.”
Not an omission of truth, but rather acknowledgement of how differently you see the world when you’re young. Though you want more from Steve, you accept this. In a way, you suppose he’s right.
“I didn’t go to the show because I was scared of how much I was falling behind.” Steve doesn’t look away from you. He’s laying all his cards on the table, open and waiting for you to read them. “We were in over our heads, but somehow only I was the one drowning.”
Rent, bills owed, grappling with adulthood while still shedding your adolescence. Loneliness while being together. Careers that hurt and dreams that struggled for breath. You and Steve had been drowning together. Until one day you weren’t.
Steve drinks the coffee, he doesn’t pressure you to sit down again. Instead, he sighs. “I let your words get into my head. In your mind I was just a waiter, and I felt that nothing I was doing with my life was worthwhile. The only thing I had done right by the time I was twenty was having you love me.”
The anger that was quick to rise is also quick to dim. There isn’t any left for you to fight.
Finally, you sit. You take the coffee from Steve and the now cold liquid is a reminder of how much time has passed. “The age old question: do actions speak louder than words?”
Did what I say justify what you did? Or did they cause each other, creating a cycle that we can never escape?
You won’t forgive him, but you understand him. Steve was hurting just as much as you were, only his hurt came from your own insecure and unsure words. You told him he was just a waiter because you were scared all you’d ever be was an unknown writer. The weight of your future made you scared, the uncertainty of it all overwhelmed you and made you cruel.
Steve had fallen victim to the same fate.
“Robin told me it was growing pains.” Steve says. “What happened between us. It was all just growing pains.”
Begrudgingly you smile. Your cards are on the table as well. “You called me to discuss growing pains?”
The crinkle of Steve’s smile warms the cold cafe. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Tell me, then. Are we done growing?” You lean forward, allow your body to be near Steve’s again and the buzz of the proximity sets your skin on fire. He breathes in sharply. He hasn’t been this close to you in what’s felt like a lifetime.
Steve leans forward too. You can smell his cologne, his eyes still shine how you remember them. His face is the same, though weathered with age and experiences you no longer know about. You count the moles that scatter his face, heart thumping wildly when you realize you still remember how many there are.
He’s still so beautiful.
You’re weak for Steve. Your bones still remember the weight of his love.
“I don’t think we’ll ever be done.” Steve sinks even closer, nose almost bumping your cheek. You hold your breath, body humming.
Breathless, you ask him, “then where does that leave us?”
Steve pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. He studies your face, the familiar angles and peaks of your nose. Your eyes, how they’re still his favorite color. Your hair is the same, maybe a little shorter now, and your perfume still the warm vanilla that reminds him of home.
You’re still the girl Steve fell in love with when he was a kid. He’s still the boy you fell in love with when you were a child. There is still hurt, memories you both want to forget, but there is love within it. Young love can be formed anew, if someone lets it.
“Together.” Steve finally says. “It leaves us together.”
-
⌑ writing masterlist
⌑ please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. i adore hearing from you guys :)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem#stranger things#steve harrington angst#m's writing#ambiguous ending but not really#writing this felt like a warm but final hug
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I have so many thoughts about Barry, it's honestly sickening
Barry treating you like air the whole day in front of any customer just to come up to you at night wrapping his arm around you "is my baby sad, hmm?" only to then whisper in your ear as he grabs a fistful of hair "stop crying like a little bitch and get down on your knees with a smile"
I dont even know anymore barry has fried my brain
this is sooooo precious n barry coded.
anyways i love barry and his limp hairy dick that’s all
PRECIOUS ND’ BARRY.
you knew to be quiet. just like you were taught; how you were trained. quiet as a mouse, all the time. barry stayed home today, something ‘bout the law being on his ass. he told his customers to come to him, instead.
you sat in your room for a bit, painting your toes. but you got bored, wanted attention. so you quietly opened the door, seeing barry on the frayed couch. counting money.
you sat next to him, facing him. you sat on your legs, propping your hands on his thigh. looking at him. he didn’t even bother to look up at you, though. too busy ‘worried ‘bout more important shit.’ you frowned.
you attempted to nuzzle up into his neck, but he pushed you away by your throat. “hi.” you spoke, sheepishly. he looked up at your pupils, for the first time today.
he looked you up and down, almost judgmental. he scoffed. “what you need, kid. spit it out.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “nothin’— wanted to talk to you.” he laughed meanly, lowly. “go back in your room. you ain’t needa be out here.”
you stared down, disappointingly. but you would listen. you knew you would. he knew too. you did, always. wouldn’t dare utter a complaint to him. you got up, making your way back to your room. you cried for a little bit, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. almost begging for an ounce of remorse. attention.
however, you soon gave up and went to sleep. you had nothing better to do anyway. you slept for a bit, till it was at least dark. that was, till you felt a cold hand snake up to your tummy. you flinched, waking up.
he chuckled lowly, whispering in your ear. “you was cryin’ like a baby, huh? my precious was upset— like a little baby.” you frowned, embarrassingly nudging your head back into the pillows.
tears filled your eyes again at his mean words, before you almost shrieked at him pulling your head up by your hair. he harshly pulled your scalp to rest under his propped up arm.
he was leaning over you, almost like he was a predator. taking his prey. taking what he, thought he deserved. “stop fuckin’ cryin’ like you still a little girl— always fuckin’ cryin. sick of that shit, precious.”
you made eye contact with him, your chest rising and falling. “you gonna act like you fuckin’ want this— got it?” he said, not waiting for a reply before pulling your dead weight body to sit up. he pulled out his growing hard dick, before shoving it past your lips.
he threaded your hair into his hands, guiding your movements. “fuck— just take dad’s dick— okay? be grateful. be grateful for what i give you.” you whined around his length, feeling him hit the back of your throat.
he continued his movements, his dick soon twitching between your pink lips. “so fuckin’ dumb. seriously— don’t even know why i keep you here precious.” he spoke, with a groan. he soon came, promptly pulling out of your mouth.
he never did that.
he came on your face, almost to embarrass you. which worked. you had his sticky cum stuck in your lashes, a bit in your hair, and resting on your plump lips. he took a good look at your face; smiling. “lookin’ pretty, baby.” he spoke.
he grabbed your chubby cheeks, pulling them apart and forcing you into a toothy smile. “looks like you enjoyed that shit just fine— huh? knew you liked it.”
and maybe his words were right, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t avoid him for hours after it.
#precious 🦢#barry smut#barry obx#barry coded#barry outer banks#foryopage#pintrestgrl#foryou#obx au#obx#this felt longer in my head#is this cute
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Wowie rly digging the yandere clone headcanons… how would each react if their darling tried to run away from them?!
You said tried so I assume this was a failed attempt!
Short answer: they get really upset and try making it your fault (shocker.) Ain't no way any of these mfs think they're the problem. Good news! you're mostly unharmed and alive.
This will just be purely writing bc i mostly had thoughts! sorry no drawing this time!!
[cw! mentions of potential harm to reader (no actual harm done), manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics (yandere flavor), obsessive behavior]
Sekido
You're always being hunted the moment the sun comes down and you don't return home in time. Reasons like that are exactly why he hates it when you part from him.
This time is different.. he can't find you in your usual spots. There's no fucking way, right?
How could you.. No, how DARE you? Do you think that he's some joke? That his feelings for you are something that you can run away from like it's nothing?
The second he's sure the sun won't harm him, he's already white knuckling his khakkhara, swinging at anything and everything in his path until he gets to you.
They know how to sense if you're near or not, hell, they probably know how your specific blood type smells like.
Did you think cuddling up to you and memorizing every detail about you was for nothing? Don't be stupid. All he needs is a trace of you and he's gone in the blink of an eye.
You better enjoy running while you can because when he catches you, and he will, those legs of yours won't have much use after he's done with them.
Sekido doesn't WANT to do this, but you honestly give him no choice. After he trusted you enough to stop looking over his shoulder, you do this? How can he ever put any faith in you again!?
On the bright(?) side, Sekido's rage wouldn't be solely on you, it'll ricochet onto everyone, especially the other clones and himself.
They were supposed to be looking after you! But they can't do anything right, even a task as simple as this.
And why did he think it was a good idea to trust them with something of big importance when all they do is fuck everything up!? Everyone's idiocy is rubbing off on him!
The entire time on his search for you, he's cursing and wanting to crush anything he can get his hands on, especially your bones.
He doesn't even bother with speaking to the others, too busy spewing out all sorts of hurtful and frustrated comments about everything.
The brutal thought that you’d rather run away than be with him isn't one he wants to entertain, but it's echoing in his head.
At least, once the other clones get there, Karaku and Aizetsu brawl with Sekido so you're unharmed while Urogi carries you overhead.
Sekido's jealousy flares up when he sees you in Urogi's arms, making him even more pissed if that's even possible. Great, now he looks like the bad guy and the other three, the saviors. Fucking perfect.
There's a lot of yelling and a lot of blood, especially with Urogi making things so much more annoyingly difficult in the air. Karaku and Aizetsu aren't helping. Why is Sekido suddenly the problem?! You ran away!!
But when he calms down enough, he's cursing at everyone through clenched teeth. Sometimes trying to convince the others that you don't even need your legs anyway!!
Once you get back home (or temporary prison until you somehow regain favor), Sekido will eye your legs while gripping his staff from time to time.
Exactly why he's forbidden to be in a room alone with you for a while until he settles down..
He glares at you more often and grows colder than before. Arguments are more common where he twists your words just to have you talk with him and be angry within reason.
Any other type of conversation makes him so irrationally upset that the others need to step in so that he doesn't lose his temper again.
Karaku
The calmest out of the group. He brushes it off as “you're playing hard to get” again, and if he makes a ruckus, you'll scamper back and beg him to stop like always!
Then it gets darker out.. and when Sekido left, he seemed pretty pissed. Like more than usual..... shit.
Karaku sprints after Sekido when it clicks that he's found you. His mind starts reeling, unsure whether he should laugh at the absurdity of your decisions or get pissed off because you didn't even bother to give a hint!
Not like that would do anything aside from give you away but regardless!
Everyone needs to relax, this is obviously something they can sweep under the rug. This isn't that big of a deal and you're just having a fit, but things like these can get you hurt, y'know?
They're fun and all, sure, just maybe give him a heads up next time, yeah? Sekido can't take a joke, you know this!!! Still.. There's a way Karaku can work with this.
He'll be able to swoop in, save you, be your hero, and remind you why staying with him is kinda important. Just in case you forgot~
You don't wanna be out and about without his charming grin and protective hold would you? Don't answer that right now, he has a feeling you'll say something wrong!
Yet.. what if you need a firmer hand to remind you of what Karaku provides? What if you got a little too comfortable being protected so you thought you'd be alright leaving them? Man, who knew you could be spoiled!
Because of this, he would purposely fumble, letting Sekido get near you just so he can stop him at the perfect moment. He purposely gets hit too and makes sure some blood gets near you. To remind you how that could've been yours.
When Sekido calms down, Karaku laughs in your face and would pinch your cheeks if you weren't up in the air with Urogi on the way home.
You should've seen your face! It was really cute~! Maybe getting scared is your thing? He'll note that for later.
He offhandedly advises you not to do things like that all the time, fighting Sekido always kinda sucks, but it's not like you actually had a chance of successfully running away so he won't chastise you too much for it.
That's not his job, and his heart hasn’t pumped that fast in a long time.. not even in a fight! You're so amazing~~
And delusional if you think he's not going to milk this “heroism” thing back there for some extra affection points with you.
Don't be so mean. he got his head blown off twice and jaw dislocated thrice, not to mention everywhere else on his body. Don't you think those parts of him need some extra loving? more than usual?
There's not that much Karaku can say after that aside from reminiscing like it was a funny story. He's not upset about it, mostly a little miffed you got kinda far without him noticing, but he gets over it.
The usual routine starts back up for him when you're back home. It's like nothing happened, but he keeps a closer eye on you since everyone's so tense.
Urogi
If you're not home before the sun sets, Urogi's clawing at the walls with stress. He usually accompanies Sekido to go find you, but this time is different. Urogi could just barely tell you were around.. When Sekido bolts, Urogi's flying as fast as he can, trying to find you first.
You're so far.. you must've gotten kidnapped!!!!!
The stress from before burns into anger, expecting to see someone having their hands on you while you're calling out in vain. How could he let this happen?! Damn sun!
He darts through the skies even faster imagining it, and when he finally reaches you, you look.. fine? and alone. and looking at him like he's the danger. He's here to save you, dummy..
Urogi falls to his knees, burying his face against your stomach and finally wrapping his arms around you again. Your fists violently hit his head and yank fistfuls of hair back, but it doesn't phase him.
Your comforting warmth is back, that's all that matters. And god, your smell.. it's almost making him dizzy. He missed you so much.
There's many holes to the story in Urogi's head as to why you're so far from home, but he fills them in with more convoluted delusions. It's just a peaceful reunion right now..
That is until Sekido finally arrives and starts swinging his khakkhara way too close to your fragile bones.
Now he's back in defense mode where he scoops you up and tries flying out of reach. This is so stressful!!! There's lightning everywhere and he keeps having to dodge the multiple staffs thrown his way.
He shields you with his wings as best he can while trying to stay in the air, so you don't get hurt during Sekido's outburst.
In the skies, it's much clearer to see the hurt behind the haunting glow of Urogi's eyes. Did you care about how he might feel? Did you miss him at all? Did you not feel loved enough? Did someone say something to you?
As he maneuvers the sky, he holds you as tightly as possible, lightly digging his talons into your skin.
Being without you for a couple hours is agonizing enough on its own. If you HAD left him, abandoned, cold, alone.. he doesn't want to think about it. All that matters is that your kidnappers or liars or whatever influenced you are gone, and you're back safe with them!!!
You.. you still like him, right? Of course you do, fate wouldn't force your paths together if it wasn't for a reason!
Coming back home is uncomfortably tense, especially with how violently Aizetsu kicked Urogi across the room, nearly through the wall, when he tried to lick your wounds clean. It really hurt!
When you're patched up, Urogi is ten times as clingy if that's possible. He has his arms looped around you constantly so you can't stray too far, and if his hands are busy, he always has his wings!
As happy as he is that you're back, he can't help but cry into your chest sometimes. Everything is so tense nowadays, he hates it! How could you go and do something like that? Apologize immediately! Or at least hold him too? Doubt creeps in a lot, and your attitude isn't helping..
His mood swings are stronger. From sobbing uncontrollably into your clothes to being all smiles and radiating with joy the next just because you said something vaguely decent.
Aizetsu
The demotivation started to creep in the second you left. During the day, Aizetsu sits by the door, wanting to be the first one you properly greet. Sekido and Urogi usually bring you back and he'll be the one in your good graces without lifting a finger. That sounds nice..
But as the footsteps fade and the silence lingers, Aizetsu feels miserable the longer he waits... Hold on, silence?
Before he realizes what's happening, he's already dashing to where the familiar commotion is coming from. Dread sets in as his legs take him as fast as they can whilst being the slowest of the four. This doesn't feel like they're rushing over to you after a long day, it feels.. dangerous?
What did you get yourself into..? Why do you insist on going to places Aizetsu can't follow? Are you safe? He hates not knowing.
Usually you're the one who's fine. You deal with four demons almost daily! Please please please be okay. He can't fathom it if you were hurt.
When he gets there, the puzzle pieces fall into place and Aizetsu gets even more depressed, but at least you're not hurt. Well, not if he interferes. His movements are sluggish, a perpetual frown plastered on his face as he tries holding Sekido down.
Aizetsu wants to dissolve into the floor, and he does sometimes. Not wanting to fight Sekido off anymore, he slumps over.
This could've been a regular day where you came home.. Are you serious? Leaving? How pitiful could you be to actually think you could get away? Or was it that you wanted to play some sick joke on them? Well, it's not very funny... It's terrible actually.
Aizetsu stays silent on the way home, walking with a bit more energy knowing you're near despite his heart ache.
You can feel the harrowing disappointment radiating off of him the moment you all go back home.
He's tired, annoyed, and so unbelievably upset. Aizetsu grimaced when Urogi got near your scratches with his tongue, so he “politely” ushered him away.
Knowing a human's weak points is good in battle, but he started trying to learn how to heal them, specifically because he knew these types of things might happen.
As he cleans your scratches, he's actively scolding you for leaving in a cold emotionless tone. And by scolding, he's using manipulative language, trying to make you guilty for everything you did.
He barely has the energy to live, but now that he finally found his light in the darkness, you want to leave? Is it so wrong he wants to hold onto what makes him even a smidgen happier than usual? He reminds you that he'll wither away without you, but he's not really too keen on dying just yet.
When he tries to get back into a routine, he just can't. He knows why you left, but he doesn't want to hear it. Even if you're sweet to him or not, he'll hold you from behind when you rest.
Looking at you is too much, but being away from you is even worse. Aizetsu compromises this way, but gets quieter, occasionally sniffling when he hides his face behind you.
There's too much going on and he's so tired.. If it weren't for the others, he probably would've held you so tight for so long so that you both would perish together.
Maybe that’s why he's only allowed to hold you when you're asleep. Just please don't do that again.. He NEEDS you. Please, please, please.
Safe to say you gave them a scare. When they double down on the protectiveness, living is ten times more difficult for EVERYBODY. when you lose their trust, it's pretty difficult to gain it back, but not impossible!!
Sekido and Urogi will always assume the worst if you're gone for too long while Karaku and Aizetsu give you a little more freedom until the others drag them along into their worries.
#null rot#yandere demon slayer#yandere kny#yandere kimetsu no yaiba#Sekido#Karaku#Urogi#Aizetsu#cloaked cult member#not art#null brainwash#null gospel#IM NOT A WRITER!!!! JUST A REMINDER!!!!!!!!! JST A RAMBLER!!!!!!!!!!!!#i really couldn't think of anything drawing wise to go along with this.... but I really wanted to write for it even if I'm a bit amateur#Am I even doing this bullet thing right?? I'm not good at cohesive thoughts. but I try!! I hope I did this right..??#Also. Sekido honestly doesn't want to hurt you or even put his hands on you. he's just really scared you might something will happen to you#how the fuck is he going to live with himself if you somehow get eaten by another demon? or worse. used as bait from either demon or slayer#now that upper moon fucking four has a soft spot. its really selfish of you to run away..#don't you see how that can ruin everyone's lives including your own!? (manipulative)#why he gets more upset with any other type of convo at the end is bc it reminds him of how things were before. they were good.#but you had to ruin it didn't you? (manipulative ×2) and for sure for sure. if he holds your hand you're getting a bruise.#Karaku is hella chill bc he's wayyy too cocky that he can find you again. the little arrogance he has rearing its head again.#Hes not stupid. he knows you want to escape. but that means he has to whittle you down a little more. get you used to this. to them. to him#You can't escape. he won't let you. He belongs with you. so just try and get comfortable. yeah?#Urogi.. going through it. Hes like your ankle monitor. very fragile minded with his mood swings but extremely stubborn about letting you go#Hit him. pull at his hair. push him away. spit at him. hes sad for a while but bounces back. he always does! and he knows you will too!!#He just needs to wait.. even if it hurts his feelings sometimes. but never for long because you'll be back to loving him like before!#Aizetsu's stuck in a loop of angry -> sad until he ends up quietly crying because hes depressed you dont like them. eveything is pitiful.#he cant even move on bc youre his light. nothing will change that. even if you hurt him. all he can beg of you is to be kind to him. adjust#hes not the monsters you think he is. he can be sweet kind gentle. whatever you want.. just please.
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The Nobleman or 양반 (yangban): The smiling face represents the bluff and composure that an aristocrat is often known to have. The chin is a separate piece from the top of the mask, and the actors can lean forward and back to make the mask smile or frown as needed.
This monk who abandons his doctrines, or 취발이 (chwibari): Chwibari was originally a monk, but he had no intention of joining the monastic order, so he came down to the world and wanders. Represented with a forehead full of wrinkles and spots.
The widow or, 부네 (Punae/bune): represented to be a widow, or a kisaeng ( a woman who sang, danced, or played an instrument to provide entertainment for company at a drinking party), or a mistress of the Yangban. She has a very small mouth, round cheeks and forehead- giving a general look of happiness good-humor.
#skz#stray kids#skzedit#bystay#obligatory i am no expert take it with a grain of salt blah blah#theres no changbin bc you cant see the mask clearly and no hyunjin because as best I can figure his mask is a General/high ranking official#but most of those are modern productions and dont have any real descriptions or anything.#these plays were made to mock the upper classes so the nobleman is p much always treated like a fool or bastard lol#also these all change depending on the location- so like the chwibari is usually a negative portrayal of a monk who drinks and parties#and isnt very... monk-ly lets say- but then theres a story where he saves his lover from a lecherous monk and they get married so 🤷♀️#he wasnt a monk that iteration though or he abandoned his studies ?#and then the widow/concubine varies from sympathetic young widow to a kinda femme fatale who seduces the nobleman/scholars#Will any of this play into the concept? probably not. they dont really commit to concepts lbr#but still! it was interesting to look into and the masks are pretty to boot so this was fun :)#it'd be cool if they did a mask dance. i always loved thunderous for the traditional elements so i hope that happens#also YEAH a korean seungmin girl saying she was sad the foreign fans wouldnt get the significance bc she wants to see 'secondary art'#did inspire this (of course i'd wanna know why he was the only one given a womans mask dont act surprised)#bc im pretty sure i know what she means by secondary art and LMAO#i see right through you.... and into myself maybe#long post
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i was hacked by a very unhappy man!
#dimension 20#never stop blowing up#nsbu#d20 nsbu#g13#g13 nsbu#usha rao#MY TASTE IN FICTIONAL CHARACTERS GETS WORSE AND WORSE BY THE DAY!!!!!#sorgy. i cant help it every time a character is even slightly sympathetic i fall for it every time#i acknowledge that he is rude to everyone around him and the reason why he is so isolated from every body#is that he is egotistical and drives people away on purpose#like if u are not useful to him then he doesnt like you#but that in and of itself is so sad. hes just really sad#and a dick. and its funny#“we can have an old ladies night out” “maybe you can have that one by yourself” LMAO#ALSO USHA IS SO FUNNY U HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD I WAS LAUGHING TODAY#“i made my own alcohol during the prohibition” SHES 100 YEARS OLD AT BEST. AND FROM INDIA#i think these two are my favorite characters this far and i dont know what that says abt me#oh not even mentioning the inherent tragedy of fictional character who knows theyre not real and wants to escape into the real world#tell me g13. why do you want people? huh? HUH?#im also being influenced by his nature of being a loser and also i like computers and computer symbolism#im normal you can trust me#i could go on about how usha and g13 are alike in their refusal to change#but i need to sleep#nsbu spoilers
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DAY 4: DRAMA - Put on your prettiest face for the masses!
gonna start adding silly captions actually. [POINTS ACCUSINGLY] MELTY FUCK (AFFECTIONATE)!!
#disco elysium#drama#de drama#disco elysium skills#skilltober#skilltober 2024#de skills#voliart#GUY WHO IS GOOP AND SPOTLIGHTS!! he can form the lights into hands but usually theyre lights!! i think bottom left face is always sad :']#lmao i don't know why i was worried about posting on schedule with everyone. im VERY MUCH BEHIND hgkj but we stay silly!!#also BIG OOF GUY WITH ONE (1) SKILL POINT. NOT FILLED IN. THAT'S GENUINELY JUST ONE.#harry is a BAD LIAR. its really funny to me like all INTs are supposed to have 2 at LEAST??#but the Remote Viewer's Division thought LMAO sorry for nerfing you for fic reasons bud :']#to note: unfilled skill points also count as one! so if you see six skill points and three are filled that means 9 points total! :]#empty skill points are just the skill cap. technically even this is wrong since thoughts just remove from the number and not the diamonds?#but NEVERTHELESS i dont want to work on this anymore so let's carry on shall we?#i love his swept up chapter. empathy (highest level skill! 9 points!) and drama put on a little play together :3#and no one is jealoussss of anyone!!! certainly not!!! :)!!!#the thing about it is that i also have concept completely done too; EXCEPT for her quote caption!! so i'll just have to post xer later :']#alas <33 sleep time for voli!!
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little arthur malevolent lester portrait because my brain is full of him
#WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I MISSPELLED ARTHUR (edited now)#I KNOW THAT'S AN ESSAY IN THE TAGS BUT I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS#i love him#i need to make him look more pathethic and sad next time#and more scrawny maybe#he's just too presentable#i dont have time for more art recently so have this at least as my little break from uni work#i actually like how it turned out tho#i need to paint more loosely like this in the future#also ive been staring at leyendecker when drawing this can you tell by the shading on the cheek#and yes he has white hairs!!!!#and eyebags and a little bit of wrinkles in the corners of his eyes#i need to draw it better next time but that's how i see the guy#i really want to draw his lighter too because i've been thinking too much about its design and also i want to render some objects#arthur lester#arthur malevolent#malevolent podcast#malevolent fanart#poor sad british man#myartstuff
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horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)
horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)
#something something all three of them have their fates determined by an outside force#ermmmm but horror doesn't- yeah he does. what aliza does decides EVERYTHING for horror and horrortale#just because its not direct like dust or killer doesn't mean theyre all subject to the same community x3#PARALLELS MTT PARALLELS FOR THE 500TH TIME THEY HAVE SOOOO MANY PARALLELS OHHH MY GOOOOOODDDDDD#mtt going to visit horrortale would just be dust eying aliza (out of paranoia. he knows shes a good kid)#and then killer knowing in his head that the poor kid aliza that horror weirdly seems to like doesn't have control over her actions#she doesn't know horror doesn't know nobody knows except killer. is that a bit sad?#theyre all living in the dark unaware of the reality of their world. i mean thats how its meant to be after all thats what the players want#but....... it would be tempting to tell horror...... hehehehehe- and then he's interrupted by horror and dust#(theyre trying to get killer to eat papyrus's spaghetti in their place. he's the only one that can stomach it even though there's no human)#mtt i love thee SOOOOO much. theyre back in horrortale for the holidays ✨✨ coming back to visit the family ✨✨ WHAT horror's visiting.......#not dust or killer of course. this isnt their world noooope thats not papyrus. but that doesn't stop dust from having everyone like him#its just like the good old days :333 except now there's three sanses and triple the insanity :333 almost like nothing's changed!!!!!#oh killer??? yeah he's there. probably won't try taking up the sansish type of role horror and dust do but he'll find a way to get used 2 i#after all the point of this is whatever he wants it to be now ;33333 were these tags all just a reference to my mtt fic. yes. yes they were#LMAOOOO i forgot that aliza didn't fall into horrortale yet in my fic. still a fun thing to imagine tho!!!#i think it would be fun having aliza be the first of humans for horrortale to deal with that they won't instantly kill#itll be hard but really rewarding for all of them........ especially horror i believe!!! man he didnt even go through therapy but#just being away from horrortale and out doing new and FUN and NOT MURDEROUS things has done wonders for him :3#i need to get to writing smh..... winter break is the day after tomorrow (TECHNICALLY AT 2:32 PM SINCE THSYS WHEN SCHOOL ENDS SO HAHAHA)#so ill probably work on it more over break since i'll have nothing to do hehe.......#today was an amazing day for me ✨ TWO mtt angst death related hcs..... some work on my latest chapter i've yet to post..... SWAPINVERSE FAN#ARE YOU KIDDING ME MORR SWAPINVERSE ART THIS IS SOOOO AMAZING THABK YOU UNTITLED29876011111 I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY YOU DO THIS!!!!!#tricule rant#killer sans#dust sans#horror sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au
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i think when cherik fuck charles just has to control himself so much that he reaches the point where he gets almost no pleasure because of the efforts and erik just doesn't see that for a long time bc charles is very good at simulating whatever it is so they fuck and erik is happy and cherles is close to tears every time because yeah he had sex but he spent all time of it struggling to remain control of his abilities and he didn't have orgasm and he just doesn't know what to do because he's afraid to tell erik and he's afraid to stop doing that because he thinks he'd project his thoughts and feeling all over the mansion and he's afraid to go on the way he does because it's exhausting and kinda awful
sorry im in the mood for angsty thoughts about charles's telepathy sorry
you jsut gon say this in fronta my salad. ..,
#nsft#snap chats#BUT REAL i love angst with charles and his telepathy so much you dont even know so i am in fact eating this. WITh my salad#speedrun category for how fast this went from funny to sad and im living for it if im so tbh#how fast you think erik catches on. cause im betting my kidney he will catch on at some point details about charles does not evade him#this why they oughta shack up away from the mansion. this why erik gotta kidnap him to Whatever resort they can go to#'resort' and its just one of his '''''evil''''' lairs away from everyone else vjlekjal#modern problems demand modern solutions ... still /having/ to isolate isnt fun#maybe if its a planned event Like A Vacation or somethin but what bout- if i may quote asia- The Heat Of The Moment#what then. what if there Is no isolating option. TRAGIC chat my head hurts#brain just wants them to bone without problems .... the problems make it more interesting tho im afraid brain you gotta deal#i repeat we gotta invest in the anti-telepath room....
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They keep reiterating that Dan’s the strong gym gay out of the both of them and Phil is the delicate princess but I have to know…
What does Dan bench and is it his goal to hit Phil’s weight so he can carry his our princess?
#phan#amazingphil#phil lester#dan and phil#dan howell#dip and pip#dnp#daniel howell#i gotta know what he benches#like i dont know why i do but i do you know?#cute thought: he wants to carry Phil around like a princess#sad thought: he wants to be able to carry Phil in case of another medical emergency :’(#someone ask at tit please#more specifically ask Dan what he benches at tit
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was feeling 'fine' (all things considered) then spent 3 hours daydreaming about oc stuff without moving and inch and now i feel very much not fine, i really cant win can i :(
#ganondoodles talks#personal#yes it was sort of sad stuff#but new stuff i hadnt thought about before that arent part of any of the planned stories#i dont even know if im feeling worse again bc it was kinda sad#or bc i didnt move a muscle for hours#or by its late and i barely got sleep last night#or bc i yet again wasted so mayn hours doing essentially nothing#or its all of the above#going to bed :(#you can still send me asks btw!!#im trying to answer them all and i got the next week off work so maybe more time for this#for soem reason i keep struggeling trying to get shargons design into a shape i like#i feel like hes still the one with the most 'boring' one#i want to make him more bird like but i cant seem to get it right#................................also that comic i mentioned in a previous post is haunting me#i keep seeing bits of it and it looks so cool but i cant get myself to actually read it#why am i like this q-q
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It's not easy being a villian's fan, lemme tell ya 😔😔
#in a way gege subverted our expectations again?? yay? idk i liked the chapter but i dont know if Yuuji still UNDERSTANDS Sukuna#because for all that yap to work you actually need to know a thing or two about the other person yknow? and not just forcing your own#philosophy on the other person without understanding their life experiences i guess#but the hatred between them is so real lol#but also yuuji's “leave fushiguro and come back to me then I'll spare your life” you're telling this to a man who doesn't give af whether#he lives or dies as long as he gets a good fight also Also!! WHY would he want to be trapped in a vessel like that again??THINK Yuuji THINK#I'm also a bit sad because i think this is the start of Sukuna's conclusion phase siiighh ina way i hate that 😣😣#sukuna#yuuji#itadori#ryomen#jjk 265#jjk leaks#manga#jujutsu kaisen#being a sukuna fan ain't easy 😔 but somebody's gotta do it#ryomen sukuna
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Just looked at the digital remains again and oh my god why are we not talking more about the original lyrics to backslide
If I were to backslide, tell everyone we know
Thanks for the last time they came out
...
Why did I not thank you more, saving me those other times
(Don't you dare jump in)
...
I'd rather you hurt me, than do nothing at all
I'd rather you let me down, than just gas me up
I'd rather you cuse me, than do nothing at all
...
You won't make a sound, pick someone else I won't be around
Trapped inside your smile, don't put me on trial
Don't you see you take, everything from me
#christ this is so sad#oh my god i am havimg Feelings#something about the#why did i not thank you more#saving me those other times#(dont you dare jump in)#this is breaking me#im kind of glad those lines didnt make it on to the album i dont think i would have survived it#im curious as to why though#i really really hope its because he was doing better when actually making the song than when he originally wrote it#but i dont know#im worried about him#not to be pathetically parasocially attached to a man i dont even know#but these lines just. scare me.#i hope hes doing okay#i hope hes surrounded by the people he loves#and i hope he genuinely knows how much of an impact hes had on so many peoples lives#and i hope that doesnt scare him too much#it feels like these lines are about us#i dont know i cant articulate why this is hitting me so deeply but it is#and i hope josh is doing ok too#its easy to focus more on tylers thoughts and emotions because hes the one who verbalizes them#but i worry about josh too and i hope he also knows how much of an impact hes had#i just want to hug them both so bad#and it does reassure me that in most of the songs theres still an undercurrent of hope and a desire to keep fighting#twenty one pilots#tyler joseph#josh dun#clancy#clancy digital remains
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re:kinder doodle dump part three !!! drawings with wildly different moods www they are more polished ans complete than my other doodles because. why not🥺!!!
#re:kinder#rekinder#fanart#ryou re:kinder#mami re:kinder#takumiel re:kinder#yuuichi mizuoka#i will now provide commentary ...#the first one i did was the takumiel one lets start with him#that one was done in ms paint MERELY for the sake of me making a speedpaint in the style of 2010's speedpaints#turned out great . put some nightcore on it... not placing it here because tumblr does not take it kindly to me putting speedpaints here#(im still petty about that)#the chie one as you can see. is not a line from re:kinder. it is a line from “If...” another game by parun#where the girl who says it has the same sprite as chie. so i drew chie based on the line. chie in the multiverse...#mami was because i just dont draw her enough for being one of the characters with a drawn portrait and why not#ryou candy because i can ive been meaning to draw him more properly for a while outside of silly little projects i just never got to it#so there he is with the layout of clip studio paint because the drawing looked bland. and i didnt know what to use as a background#i do not use clip studio on light mode. i just thought itd look better with the background. all for composition sake...!!!#now about the yuu drawing i did that this morning its funny actually... if you see it that way i prefer seeing things as comedic if possible#today's morning dread would simply not leave so i decided to draw rekinder because its my go to for whenever im feeling low#and i decided. i will channel my feeling into this drawing because i can i will channel it outwards so i dont have to deal with it#so at first i was very dreadful and sad drawing. but then as i was finishing it#and the drawing looked more gloomy than it had ever had I HAD GLEE ONCE MORE!! IT WORKED!! i did channel it outwards im a genius#so i totally would recommend if you dont want to deal with dread and are in a state where you can draw#you should make your drawing feel it so you dont have to. its great#its like when one manifests their period cramps onto goku from dragon ball z.... at least i do that#i do love goku. what kind of latinoamerican would i be if i didnt id be a disgrace but im not strong enough i know he can fight it
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also just for the record. no matter how much utterly stupid shit i say or draw about him, frank actually makes me so deeply sad. this old man should be picking up his grandkids but he cant. i think about him too much and im so sad
#marvel#frank castle#the punisher#this is true for like most of these guys [gestures vaguely to comicbook men] but frank is the one that makes me want to chew on rocks rn. s#like yeah i selfship with him for fun and i like to think about cutesy or funny stuff involving him but the reality is he makes me so sad#ig thats part of why i do it. you make me so sad old man. but youre not real so in some version of not real you can be a little better#not happy but yk better#but like. just. fuck man hes so deeply damaged and hurt it drives me up the wall. my hurt person hurting people#as always i struggle to string words together this isnt news if you know anything about him you know exactly what im getting at#he would have been a wonderful father and husband. the way hes so devoted to them still. always. its killing me#sometimes i see canon moments of him where how just fundamentally deeply broken as a person he is and augh#nothing can help you nothing can make things any better but my god you cannot be left alone in this state#eh maybe thats it. i cant help him i cant make him feel better. but i cant let him be alone like this#i dont think he should have to be alone like this#bleh sorry word vomit. im tired and sleepy. i wrote 4 essays this week. need to write 2 more. going a little bonkers#brain is fried.
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