#i love also that this is at a point of grief

[luvvictoria]

The breaking point

+ pairings. simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

+ tags. romance, slow-burn, action-packed military romance with angst and tension

+ summary. In the heat of lingering grief and tension from the day's losses, Ghost and Riley confront each other in a raw, emotionally charged argument. Accusations fly as Riley accuses Ghost of being overprotective, while Ghost reveals his deep-seated fear of losing Riley. Their words cut deep, exposing vulnerabilities and the heavy burdens they carry. Ultimately, the confrontation forces both to face the painful reality of their intertwined lives—a love marred by duty and the ever-present specter of loss, leaving them heartbroken and forever changed.

+ materialist ; prev. part ; next part.

+ a/n. eated Argument → 👀 Tension Explosion. Reblog with your favorite line! It would help me to grow my account !! Thank you in advance. Thank you so much for your support ! It means very much to me! Also if you want to take a little peek at the next chapter here is my ko-fi !!

The air in the barracks was thick with the residue of exhaustion and sorrow — a lingering reminder of the day's brutal losses. Yet, as the weight of that grief settled over you both, a different kind of storm was gathering, one fueled by simmering frustrations and the unbearable burden of unspoken truths.

You couldn’t take it any longer. With a force born of years of pent-up emotion, you slammed the locker door shut. The metallic crash echoed down the silent corridor like a death knell. “What the fuck is your problem, Riley?” you barked, your voice trembling with anger and despair.

Across the room, Ghost stood rigidly, his arms folded over a chest that had seen too many battles to know peace. His normally unreadable eyes now burned with an intensity that made your heart ache. “My problem?” he snapped, his tone icy. “You mean besides the fact that you almost got yourself killed out there?”

Your laughter was bitter, raw with the sting of betrayal. “I was doing my job, Ghost. Maybe if you weren’t so damn obsessed with watching every step I take, I wouldn’t have to dance with death!” Each word came out sharper than the last, each syllable laced with a pain you couldn’t mask.

He took a step forward, the space between you shrinking until the air felt heavy with everything you both couldn’t say. “Obsessed? You think this is some kind of game? I’ve seen the nightmares. Every time you walk into a firefight, I see your face in the flames, and I— ” His voice broke, a fleeting crack in his controlled exterior.

“You’re suffocating me!” you cried, voice raw. “I’m not a damn child who needs rescuing every time I get hurt. I’m not your project to fix!” The anger in your voice mingled with a deep sorrow, each word a desperate plea to be understood.

Ghost’s eyes darkened with a pain that went deeper than the scars on his soul. “And you think it’s that simple? That if you just step away from my concern, I won’t feel this... this crushing fear? Every moment I see you out there, risking everything, I’m haunted by the thought of losing you. But you—” His voice faltered, swallowed by the enormity of his own heartbreak. “You never let me in. You never let me share that fear with you.”

A single tear glistened in the corner of your eye, betraying the storm inside you. “You don’t get it, do you?” you whispered, voice cracking. “I’m tired of being seen as some liability, some broken soldier who needs saving. I’m out there because I have a job to do, because I want to make a difference — even if it means walking right into hell.”

For a long, agonizing moment, the silence between you was a chasm of shared pain. Ghost’s fists clenched at his sides, his entire body trembling with the raw intensity of the emotion he’d spent years burying. “I’m not trying to control you,” he finally managed, his voice low and ragged. “I’m trying to protect you. Every day, I live with the terror of waking up to a world where you’re gone. I can’t— I won’t—watch you die. Not again.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the truth behind his harsh words now laid bare. “But I’m not dying,” you murmured, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I’m fighting. I’m surviving. And I need to do that without feeling like every step I take is a betrayal to you.” The admission was both a challenge and a plea — a desperate bid to be seen as more than just a fragile piece of his shattered world.

The words hung in the air, heavy with all the pain, fear, and love that had been suppressed for too long. Ghost’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his face contorted in anguish as he fought against the tide of his own emotions. “Then why can’t you let me in?” he demanded, voice cracking. “Why do you push me away when all I ever wanted was to be there for you?”

Your own defenses crumbled under the weight of his vulnerability. “Because every time you get close, I’m reminded of what I can’t lose,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t bear the thought of you sharing this burden. I’m already drowning in it.”

For one excruciating heartbeat, you both stood there — two souls caught in the merciless grip of war, bound by duty and haunted by loss. The noise of the outside world faded into a distant echo as the pain between you surged to the forefront. The fierce argument that had erupted was no longer just about blame or control — it was a raw, unfiltered manifestation of the terror of losing each other, of confronting the limits of what you both could bear.

And then, with a final, shuddering breath, Ghost stepped back. “This conversation is over,” he said, voice hollow, as he turned away. The sound of his retreat was a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you standing alone in the suffocating silence of your own making.

In that shattering moment, as the weight of all your shared grief and fear pressed down, you realized that this was more than an argument. It was the painful, inevitable breaking point where love and duty collided, leaving both of you raw, exposed, and heartbreakingly human.

tags : @hao-ming-8 @jajuska @pinkpookiebear @illuminwtesz

[strangesmallbard]

i do think it’s interesting that severance fans often default to discussing the outties and innies as two separate people—like yes, functionally, they are right now. lumon does its best in-universe to separate outties and innies. for example: banning contact between outties and their innies’ coworkers, banning contact between outties and innies themselves. they create that distance and the fantastic acting also helps create that distance. it’s fundamentally important to the show that we acknowledge that difference.

and like. yes it’s a philosophy question: at what point do outties and innies become truly different people? is a person stored in their memories, their upbringing, or their instincts? etc. as we’ve seen so far, this separation creates some of the most fucked up consent issues you’ve ever seen. but also, and this is so easy to forget, there is also no separation. mark scout is mark s, helena eagan is helly r, and visa-versa. one is just missing necessary history and context to be the other person, but the vestiges remain. essentially: i don’t think they can truly become two different people and therein lies some tension.

for example: mark s has mark scout’s frankly impressive ability to repress any and all grief-related emotions. (i was wondering yesterday, actually, whether an innie who experiences some of the same life events as their outtie will eventually morph into them. like a manual reintegration.) another example someone else brought up: helly r has helena eagan’s entitlement and strong belief in her own personhood.

the outtie vs innie conception is particularly interesting when it comes to how fans discuss helly r/helena eagan. many people love helly and hate helena and it has me going “huh!” because, like. that could be the same gal! in different fonts. they both want to believe they’re completely different and want everyone else to believe that too. but we’ve been shown differently.

i’ve also seen some cognitive dissonance in discussing helly r/helena’s actions, which is also very interesting. there’s a very human urge to paint one as evil, the other good. but that’s never how it goes. yeah irving says “helly was never cruel” but he’s biased! (which is a good thing! i love when characters are biased). helly tried to kill helena last season (i know i just said they’re not separate people, but helly doesn’t agree with me). in season 2, helena stole her body and assaulted mark s. again, absolutely insane consent issues inherent in the severance process. (maybe it doesn’t come down to the good/evil dichotomy at all but rather: power. who has the power and when are they justified to wield or fight it)

anyway! no tl;dr. just food for thought. please try to enjoy each sentence equally etc

[utilitycaster]

You know, the thing about the FCG Coin of Delving One-shot (or for that matter one about the Chetney Eggs) is that it struck me how compared to the plot-relevant post-campaign one-shots for C1 and C2, it feels like a premise from which you could, ostensibly, have Bells Hells on your screen in a physical sense for a few hours but it's weirdly empty in terms of reflecting them in a meaningful way with any growth, and this too feels like a casualty of all the things this campaign skipped past or rapidly smoothed over in the finale to make a happy ending.

The coin was important to FCG initially because it was one of the only things they had from Dancer, who at the time they believed to have died, along with all their other companions. So that element disappeared once he found out she was alive, and especially the complicated circumstances and his own responsibility of what he'd once believed to be her death. It's unsurprising they never really revisited it.

Now, there's a way retrieving the coin could have been meaningful as a one-shot, and that's if the party had taken any time to grieve FCG either during the campaign or even in the finale beyond the brief moment with FRIDA. A single scene with Dancer, in which they told her what had happened, could have set this up with considerable weight - if they'd mentioned the coin incident at a memorial, for example, and she'd said she'd like the coin back now for herself because now it's all she really has of FCG, that could have been a deeply poignant moment and laid the groundwork for something with the same mix of shenanigans and grief as The Search for Grog/Bob. As is, the mere premise feels like a bit of, if you pardon the pun, a cash grab.

Opal's restoration without any real work done feels similar: this is a moment that could have been an excellent two-shot a la Uk'otoa, but it's solved now, so there's no point. And so on. One of the things I specifically loved about Campaign 2 that wasn't as true of Campaign 1 (for reasons that are not the fault of C1's narrative, to be clear) is that there were a huge number of remaining opportunities out there purely based in the work the characters had done during the campaign. For Campaign 3, the only character who really has any unexplored business he seems to care about is Chetney; even Ludinus feels like a plot thread that will, if ever addressed, fall to the Mighty Nein. By ignoring these consequences, they've also cut off a number of avenues for future stories with Bells Hells and the Crown Keepers that inherit the weight and meaning of a full campaign. The main options are mostly insubstantial fluff.

[elodieunderglass]

Just dropping in too say, really enjoying the Killieposting lately! As someone who was never a horsegirl but did read a lot of books about them, I love it.

Anyways, since i know you are also a Diana Wynne Jones enjoyer, I was wondering if you'd ever read Enchanted Glass? feat. an old retired jockey living with a disability caused by an injury from his racing days! It's actually one of my favorite DWJ stories but no one else ever seems to have heard of it (also featuring weredogs, vegetable growing, grief, romance, the failures of the foster system, the king and queen and queen of faerie, and a couple of slightly cringefail wizards types(for anyone interested in such things))

I’m really glad! I start to feel embarrassed but then people send me lovely asks!

I wish I’d written Enchanted Glass(2010), but she got there first.

On balance it’s decent Jockey Representation, with a joke just for me:

“Tarquin’s small, bearded face looked to Andrew to be showing agony. But he reminded himself that the man had been a jockey and that jockeys were used to pain.”

— Enchanted Glass by Diana Wynne Jones

(Killie offscreen plaintively saying that that doesn’t mean they want to be in pain)

DWJ 🤝 Dick Francis with the content, of course, but note the stylistic lack of comma!!! That’s not DWJ’s cadence, that’s a Francis signature. That is LITERALLY a joke just for me. One point for that.

Unfortunately, I do have to condemn this as Problematic, even if it’s Aidan (feral orphan failed by foster system)POV and intended to reveal Aidan’s character:

“Aidan was astonished all over again at the little man with one leg, who energetically heaved himself into the room with his crutches. He should have had the hat, Aidan thought.”

Oh Aidan no -

“He was surely a gnome, beard and all. But his greying head was bare and slightly bald. “You know my brother-in-law, Tarquin O’Connor,” Mr Stock announced.”

Do not -

“Ah, no. He’s Irish. He’s a leprechaun, Aidan thought.”

Why do English people exist? Really? I do understand that this is a feral foster child POV of course, but come on, kid.

“He had been right to think leprechaun about the brave, shrewd little man with one leg. He almost was one. He was full of gifts.”

No you were not right Aidan, that’s plain racism, argh.

I like this shoutout to the Injured Jockeys Fund:

“Tark, as Mr Stock heard it, had been lucky to live, trampled and broken in all directions as he was. He’d never ride again. Nowadays, Tarquin lived on his savings and what he got from the Injured Jockey (sic) Fund…”

Still relevant today and a nice touch. Here’s the webpage for the IJF with some up-to-date statistics.

Quick edit to show how DWJ is very good with POV here in Andrew POV:

“Though the life of a jockey was something Andrew could barely imagine himself, he could tell it had been as thrilling and absorbing as his own work on his book.”

Yeah I reckon it might be Andrew lmao. Lmao it is as thrilling as writing an academic text for SURE. So empathetic of you to notice that.

(Love a good DWJ unreliable narrator)

on the whole, not bad Jockey Representation and a book that contains competitive flower and vegetable growing.

Me 🤝 Tarquin having to console ourselves for winning prizes for our cakes instead, due to blatant FUCKING AROUND FROM THE JUDGES. I saw you, Tark, you deserved that win, and I completely understand that cake prizes ain’t shit really, anyone can bake a cake. I don’t care that the fucking king of the elves himself is fucking us around in some kind of climactic scene or something, trust me, that kind of thing takes care of itself, narratively speaking. it’s the fact that you look back at your records for years afterwards and have to remember that ONE year, that ONE YEAR where they DELIBERATELY DICKED YOU OVER - “oh that’s the year that the elf king guy or whatever got mad” FORGET THAT? SO WHAT? GEOPOLITICS?? - I’ll be noticing the blank spot where my prize should’ve gone for the rest of my LIFE?

On balance I do appreciate this book! Thank you!!

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Part 2)

A/N: Small Chapter update! Bit more of a Xaden focused chapter (sue me) the in-between of the journey to Samara! Thank you for the love. Again - this is also on A03. xoxo K

Watching Xaden and Violet whisper to each other, it’s clear that things are strained. Their tethers were drenched in betrayal and grief; rolling off in waves from Violet and the regret from Xaden - they were suffocating. The rising discomfort as their emotions barreled through me, it took everything to withhold my instinct to bring automatic comfort. What good is my signet if I can’t help others? Securing the straps on my gloves and the fit of my flight goggles. There was very little to pack of my own personal belongings, the sleeping pad added extra support against my lower back. All of it tightly secured, there was nothing left in Basgiath. 

“It’s gonna be a long flight, sweetheart. Do you need me to grab you anymore food?” Garrick orbits my space. Too nervous to fully cross it, but unable to stay away. Flittering around finding things to do for me, to comfort me, to be near me - it’s enough to make me go a little stir-crazy. However, a small whisper reminds me that this morning I thought he was dead and that is all it takes for me to allow him to continue. Rathnait exhales steam against my back in comfort, bringing some warmth to my bones. Her wariness towards Garrick was apparent the moment we stepped on the flight field and she barreled towards the large man, talons gripping the earth, teeth barred as she snarled in warning. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit as spit landed on his face. An ashen tone overtook his skin as Garrick stood deathly still. He had murmured something to her but she refused to tell me what it was that was said.

“I have a few snacks to hold me over.” I snip, making sure the laces on my boots are tucked in. Feeling him flinch at my short tone has me waver slightly. 

You have more patience than most, bright one. 

The sharp exhale escapes my lips, flicking the long braid over my shoulder. His eyes roam the length of it, before they meet mine. What I see in them makes me falter even more.

“I don’t want to be angry, Garrick, However, you’re going to have to either allow me to be for a while longer or leave me be until I can sort through … my emotions.” 

His jaw clenches ever so slightly before striding my way, making the choice to cross into my space, my orbit. Garrick towers me, forcing myself to look up and straining my neck slightly. The sight of the new scar on his face making him look all the more like a war hardened soldier, a rider. What would our parent’s think of us now? 

 “I made a mistake that - I’m here whenever or however you need me, sweetheart. I just want to make sure our travel goes smoothly for you.” A wet sheen covers his eyes for a moment before blinking it away. Garrick lost Liam and Soleil too. Everything was so fresh, all the mourning and anxiety. Reaching up towards him with shaky gloved hands, Garrick presses his face into my palm, nose nudged against the exposed skin and breathing in deeply once, twice. Gods, I was so fucked.. “Don’t ever feel like you have to dampen yourself for me, your emotions. I knew what I wanted the moment I saw you ride towards the sun on Rathnait.” He murmurs, lips pursed against my pulse point that thunders on my wrist. A quick glance on the relic that hides beneath my flight jacket and gloves, only a sliver of black is visible to him. Yet it seems to be what he needs to see before giving me his full attention with a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches me try not to cry, or melt, or combust - any of the above. 

He just looks at you and you melt, child. Rathnait cackles in my mind. Sending her a quick fuck off and closing the connection. 

“They don’t feel very nice - the feelings inside of me. I know there is still much to talk about. The monster in my chest definitely feels like punching you and the other part of me thought I’d never see you again-“ my voice breaks, cringing at the thought of losing the tight control I have before our long trip to Samara. Instantly, I’m incased in strong warm arms - the smell of well worn leather, churam and pine flood my senses. I can’t help the few tears that leak out, wetting the skin against his neck. 

I nearly didn’t have this. 

I nearly lost this feeling forever. 

Garrick shushes me gently, as if hearing the thoughts in my head. 

“Punch me when you need to. I can take it - although not to hard, I still want you to like my pretty face,” he whispers to me. A snort makes its way past my lips as I drag the sleeve of my jacket over my eyes in attempt to clear them. 

“Are Xaden and Violet ok?” I question, watching the lightening wielder cry and throw her arms around Xaden. Tenderness floods from him, lighting his tether in hues of orange and yellows like a waning sunset. 

“Violet knows about what lives in the barrens. She thought it was all a fairytale. And…” He stays silent, hesitant as he watches me. 

He wishes to tell you that Violet’s brother has been alive all this time. Living in Aretia helping rebuilding efforts. Chradh wishes you take it easy on them. 

It feels like my eyes bulge out of their sockets. Damn. That has to be awful for Violet, finding out that your older brother made the choice to never return to Navarre again. A deep, exhausted sight rises to the surface. I nod at him silently, watching Xaden and Violet take a step away from each other before turning towards us. 

“You were a great section leader.” Violet grins softly, clutching Xaden’s hand as she stand before me. Long gone was a naive general’s daughter. A true rider, a lightening wielder, a warrior against Venin. “I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m sorry too, Sorrengail. I wish this world was different for the both of us. And yet, I know great things are coming for you - and hopefully I’ll be there alongside ya,” I wink, pulling her into my arms in a tight hug. “I’ll watch this idiot, don’t worry. He’ll see you in a couple weeks.” She musters a laugh, recognizing the soul deep exhaustion that everyone is in. With a final embrace from the two lovers, we make our way towards our dragon. The anxiety flowing off of Xaden made me want to be sick. 

“She’ll be ok. You have to trust her, the same way you want her to trust you.” I murmur softly, imbuing him with comfort. With a pat on the back, I walk towards Rathnait who waits eagerly for a long night in the sky. 

You know there is nothing else, no one else I trust more than you.  I confess to her, pressing my forehead to hers, shaky breaths fill the space. With a gentle trill, she encourages me up her leg, settling for the long ride ahead. 

*  *  *

We head east. Nothing but vast snow capped mountain ranges across the Elsum Province. The winter flight jacket I had on did little to shield me from the frigid cold that seeped deep into my bones. From Basgiath to Samara is about a day trip, and leaving at night gave us a bit of a buffer to take our time. Chradh, throughout the past 12 hours, kept bushing his wing against Rathnait - much to her irritation and secret delight. Garrick would smirk at every snap or roar from my dragon, laughing at whatever Chradh would tell him. As the sun came up, I relished in the feeling of its warmth. My dragon no longer needing to ask as she tore away from our small riot and shot up towards the sun. With a scream of excitement I tightened my grip on her scales and spikes, for a moment she freezes in the air, wings stretched as far as they would go - her shimmers of shades of red glistening in the light. She chuckles in my mind as she feels my anticipation, the precipice of descent. Rathnait lets herself fall backwards, before fixing her position and darting towards the mountain range. My hands outstretch as we bank out, flares of fire bursting and twirling around us, I let it skim her wings, warming her up. 

How all you humans should treat us. She purrs in relief. I laugh as I watch her relish in the way my fire signet bursts to life around us.

A chitter from Sgaeyl however, draws us back to the others as we make a descent to a pasture that encompasses a small mountain lake. I stiffly make my way of Rathnait, my legs feeling like jelly as I touch sold ground for the first time in hours. Making my way towards the boys who have set up a mini camp, I quickly light a fire on the shores of the lake. We all sit on the ground, Xaden rifling through his pack while Garrick tries to entice me with berries and chocolate he had stolen from the kitchen in Basgiath. A moment of contentment passed through us. 

“It was a setup. Athebyne, the post - all of it.” Xaden sighed, dragging a dagger through the sand in mindless patterns. “The post was emptied, Aetos made sure there was only one path to take. L-Liam, he saw the Venin reach the trading post. We had to make a choice of defending or retreating.”

“Xaden, you don’t have to,” I say softly, watching and feeling the torment he’s enduring. “We can talk about it another time.”

“Flare, please.” Xaden looks up at me, willing me to understand. “I have to tell you now so nothing happens to you, so you prepare. Okay?” He demands. I nod and listen; how the Venin scorched and burned and drained. The Wyvern. The way Deigh fell and Liam had moments. I try to stop the onslaught of tears that rise and fall, spilling against my cheeks like a waterfall. My lip bleeding as I trap them between my teeth, trying to stay quiet and listen and Xaden tells me everything and anything that he can remember. Garrick, eyes vacant and hollow as he too endures the memories. However, his hand that rests on my lap, open and inviting quickly intertwines with my own, bringing them to his chest where his heart beat thunderously beneath his skin. No longer can I hold the sob in as I listen to everything they had gone through, everything they suffered through. 

“And Aretia?” I finally ask, not missing the way Xaden’s shoulder’s slump in defeat. “This whole time you’ve been restoring it?” 

“The contingency if Navarre didn’t hold up their end of the deal. We would have never left you.” He assures. “My mistake was believing you would be safer if you didn’t know  until necessary. Now? I - we need you. Need you to train harder. Need you to fight alongside us. Need your expertise, need your signets, need your dragon. Flare, we need you to hold us together because Garrick and I can no longer do it on our own. There are too many factors now.” 

“Like Violet,” I comment softly. Willing him to understand it’s not out of accusation, but out of consideration. Before, all Xaden had to think about was himself, the marked ones - the survival. Now? 

Love was able to endure plenty chaos, but only to the strength of the riders, of their hearts.

War was coming. There was no stopping it. And I would be damned if I was gonna let it rage without me. 

[iguessitsjustme]

The Boy Next World Ep 7 Thoughts

Everyone be proud of me I left the house today and was social. It was great. Even if it meant I couldn't watch shows until later. It's good for me to not be a hermit every once in a while. But now. It is time. If you had told me a month ago that I would be enjoying both a Jittirain show AND a MAME show at the same time, I would have looked at you like you had two heads, seven arms, and drank the sun out of an enchanted goblet. But that's what's happening. Shoutout Perfect 10 Liners can't wait to see where that show is going with this final couple. But you aren't here for that. You are reading this because for some reason y'all like my liveblogs. I'm just a silly little guy posting some thoughts and some of you seem to enjoy my thoughts and I appreciate y'all and love y'all. And you can continue to find my thoughts under the cut:

At some point in this watch, I will be interrupted by my pizza being delivered. I hope. Otherwise that pizza is taking too long to get to me.

Awww cuddle babies

It concerns me that every time I try to watch this show, screaming children appear outside my apartment.

Phu's friends are so incredibly caring.

I get Phu. He goes alone every year. Even though he has so many friends that would be willing to go with him and support him in his grief. I, too, prefer to grieve alone. I think him agreeing to let Cir be there was a little bit for him but more for Cir. Because he knew how worried Cir would be if he went alone.

This theme song still slaps.

I still don't understand the hourglass. And I have decided I don't need to understand it. Just like last week, I'm just vibin. Very mind off show for me. I am enjoying just letting this show do whatever it wants forever. I want this show to blow my mind which means I gotta turn my mind off to ignore some things. So I am actually having a great time. Love all the characters and honestly as long as I love the characters, I'm going to like a show even if the plot is whack. I don't think this plot is whack though. I'm rambling. Someone stop me…oh a message. Perfect timing to stop the ramble. God bless

This is me on a tuk tuk

Also I was so confused when I saved this screenshot because there were none for episode 6 and then I had to remember I didn't have my laptop last weekend. Those were dark times. Dark times indeed.

Awww hand holding. They're sweet

That means this episode is gonna hurt me

Fuck yeah pizza time! Right when our boys start to eat. Thank GOD. I was starving.

I don't care what the show tells me about Phu's mom. I hate her for abandoning her child to deal with his grief on his own. Yeah, she was grieving but she put her own emotional needs over that of her CHILD. And I cannot forgive her for that. Poor Phu.

This show loves mirrors. I wonder why this show called *checks notes* The Boy Next World with implications of *looks down at notes again* parallel worlds loves mirrors so much.

I also love the mirrors. Love a good mirror shot.

Oh this lie is hurting both of them right now so much. "Why does that world Phu have a Cir and I don't" oh baby boy you're breaking my heart. Phu is literally just the sweetest little bean. I hope Cir confesses soon and gets forgiven and they can be in love and happy forever. They don't even need to worry about Cir's mom cause I'll just hire some *cough cough* hitmen to take care of it (they might be retired but I think I can convince them to make an exception. Y'all know they don't like evil mothers)

Why was Cir on that street in the past? Was he stalking Phu? Did he just happen to be there? To be clear, I don't care about the answer, I just want to know.

JIN AND WIM MY BELOVEDS.

Are these two healthy? No. Do I love them? Yes.

I love that Phu does let his friends see him every year but only after he goes alone to see his dad. There's something about that specifically that just hits for me.

Same actor for Thorn. Appreciated. However the implications about this universe now are hilarious to me. Somewhere in TharnType there must be a mind reader. Just because it is so funny. Take this world with complete zero supernatural elements and then in a different show years later, just add some. They were always there but hidden to everyone.

Cir if you don't tell this baby boy soon, I will be throwing hands with you. As much as I love you, I will cut you if you do not confess and put my sweet little angel out of his misery

Boy if there's an unspoken rule not to disturb Phu, why you there? (Do not misunderstand I think him showing up is actually very sweet. Checking on his baby cousin and all).

I love the use of piano in this show.

Don't ask me if this soundtrack is good. I don't know. But what I do know is that I enjoy it. Overall as a soundtrack, I'm pretty sure it's mid, but my god do I vibe with all of the choices it's made. So I'm biased.

Did y'all hear that? That was me screaming

I'm not a fan of kissing to shut someone up. I'm also not a fan of kissing without consent. However, here, I'm gonna ignore that because I love these two and also Jin can read Wim's mind and he knows that Jin felt something earlier. I also think Jin is about to push Wim off of him and scold him too. Very old school of this couple and weirdly, I'm not mad at it. Who have I become?

Why is there light on only one side. WHY IS ONE SIDE DARK.

And now it's Cir in the light? What does it MEAN. No one tell me I don't want to know.

Fully in the dark now. Surely, that has nothing to do with Cir's LIE and how Phu loves him yet doesn't know he gets to keep him forever and forever and forever.

Cir comes in and brings the light with him. Lighting up Phu but remaining in the dark himself until he walks himself into Phu's light (that he brought). I'm sure this means nothing.

Screaming children go AHWAY

I suppose I'll allow it. Since it's not another guitar.

Okay this is for sure not the song he is playing. Or at least they definitely overlaid it. But as far as instrument playing goes, I can believe he plays the flute at least a little.

Just a little. I'm not a flautist but it seemed about 1/10 realistic to me but considering what I've seen in the past, I will gladly take that. *stares OMSN right in the eyeballs*

These two. Always with the tongue.

FINGERS IN THE MOUTH CIR YOU INSANE MAN

Should have confessed the secret before sleeping with him.

Dark and light side of the bed again. Again, sure it means NOTHING.

Phu is actually an excellent communicator.

I told y'all they were too cute in the beginning and therefore this episode would hurt me and NOW LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE

I BEG YOUR PARDON

Now did this show really need this specific drama?

Yes. Yes it did. I don't care. Give me ALL the dramatics.

THE FUCK

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 27 - Kids in America

IN THIS CHAPTER: Independence Day, fun fair shenanigans, and Chrissy gives everyone a fright [5.3k]

WARNINGS: explicit eating disorders, parental abuse and unhealthy food related behaviours (specifically mentioned but not described: binging, purging and starving oneself) [if you've seen st4, you know what this is about], friends trying to help a friend with said eating disorder but they're not therapists so keep in mind that everyone is just trying their best, brief discussions of grief/mourning and PTSD

A/N: happy late valentine's day, pookies! hope you enjoy your present <3 someone asked me to be added to the taglist and i can't find who it was, let me know if it was you! (if it wasn't you and you still wanna be added, also let me know lol)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Bright lights, the music gets faster Look, boy, don’t check your watch, not another glance

Friday, July 4th - 1986

Dottie’s first Independence Day in the sleepy little town of Hawkins, Indiana was a very interesting experience. As someone who had never had a backyard until very recently, she was delighted to see that the holiday provided her neighbors with a chance to throw garden parties for their extended families, their heads popping up over the fence to say hello to her and her Dad who had willingly chained himself to the little grill he had splurged on when they first moved into their new house.

The decadent smell of meat and veggies sizzling on the grill, the sounds of children laughing and running around playing with sparklers, glasses of lemonade and cans of beer being passed around to be shared with loved ones -  it was, all in all, the perfect picture of the so-called American Dream, and Dottie was enjoying the festivities thoroughly, only a tiny bit sour at the fact that her Dad would be leaving for Florida for almost two weeks the following Monday.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving what was upsetting her, more so that she couldn’t join him because she’d made a commitment to cover Donny’s (now postpartum) sister’s shifts until she left for college, and she tried to never make promises she couldn’t keep. Sticking by her own personal code of honor meant that James would be spending the first half of his trip in stuffy conference rooms and the second half resting by his parents’ pool while Dottie stayed back in Hawkins and served countless freshly baked pizzas to increasingly impatient customers.

The joys of adulthood, she thought grimly, before deciding it could always be worse. She could be Gareth, who was currently stuck bagging groceries while everyone else was enjoying their hard-earned day off.

“I think you may have overdone it, Dad,” Dottie said, noticing the amount of food sizzling on the grill.

“I didn’t want you to go hungry while I’m gone,” James joked.

“You say that like we both don’t know you’re gonna eat all the leftovers by Monday.”

“Are you calling me fat?” he said, inflating his belly and rubbing it dramatically; she fondly rolled her eyes at him. “Actually, I was just thinking - maybe we could invite the Munsons next year. I’m sure Wayne knows a thing or two about grilling, right?”

“Yeah, that- that’d be nice,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the invite.”

On Monday afternoon, Eddie had brought up an interesting point. They’d been cuddling on the pillow-filled seat under Dottie’s bedroom window watching the rain drip down the glass when he announced that their first monthiversary was due the following day. His theory, as he relayed it to her in a theatrical fashion that was so endearingly Eddie, was that since they’d confessed their feelings to one another after the party fiasco, the first time they’d said I love you to one another had been after midnight, and thus, on June 1st.

Dottie had initially been surprised he was so into the idea of celebrating their first month together and after a bit of prodding, she’d gotten the truth out of him: Eddie had never thought he’d be in any kind of relationship long enough to even reach a monthiversary. And so, after dropping their very suspicious friends off with the excuse of getting home before the oncoming storm hit them, the pair headed towards their spot at Lovers’ Lake where Dottie gifted Eddie a homemade mini cake - triple chocolate, much to his delight. They’d shared an ungodly amount of sugary kisses on the back of his van and, on the ride back home, Dottie decided that she’d tell her Dad about Eddie being her boyfriend once he returned from Florida.

There was no need to tell him earlier, she reasoned, just in case he wouldn’t let Eddie stay over anymore while he was out of the house. James wasn’t a horribly strict father but if she could save herself from any uncomfortable conversations involving her still very new sex life, she would take any chance she could get.

“You going to the fair tonight? Heard it’s gonna be packed,” James asked, jostling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, Donny’s picking me up later. I’m kinda iffy on it, though.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Gareth said people complained that last year’s fun house was for babies so they got a spookier one this year and I’m not really into that.”

“It’s a fun house, not a haunted house. How bad can it be?”

“It’s circus themed.”

“And?”

“You know I hate the circus!” Dottie argued.

“You aren’t scared of the circus though, you just hate watching the animals,” he reasoned.

“Well, yeah,” she said, angrily. “I’ve seen Dumbo, I know what they do to them when people aren’t looking.”

James let out a snort and went back to his grilling, thinking of the little Dorothy who begged to watch the “flying elephant movie” only to then become the world’s biggest circus hater. Later that night, waving at her as she got into Donny’s car - and noticing she was wearing an old roomy red romper Margaret had worn during the early days of her pregnancy with the same child who was now donning the outfit -  he had never been more aware that his baby girl had fully blossomed into an independent young woman.

He knew that if it were up to him, she would never have to leave the nest. If he had his way, they’d continue with their comfortable daily routines until the end of time; she’d always come to him first for advice or a hug, and he’d always be the doting father whose entire world revolved around the life he had helped create. But James wasn’t stupid, and he also wasn’t mean enough to clip her wings for his own comfort’s sake.

They’d never spent more than a couple of days away from each other in Dottie’s entire life. Maybe this upcoming trip would be a blessing in disguise. Maybe they’d both learn something about themselves by the end of it. As Donny’s car pulled away from the driveway and Dottie leaned over her friend to wave goodbye through the rolled down window, a father could only hope that he had prepared his baby for whatever the future threw her way. And, if everything else failed, they both knew he would always be there with his arms open to catch her when she fell.

“Okay, where to next?”

“Can we sit down for a minute? I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby!”

Eddie Munson’s stomach was fine. It was always fine, because he was 1) a teenager who loved shovelling junk food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow, and 2) he practically had no gag reflex as discovered one very enlightening night at The Hideout, but his friends didn’t need to know that. No, all his friends needed to know was that he felt sick and they could hop onto the next ride while he hung back with Dottie, who was already rubbing his back like a dutiful nurse ready to tend to her patient. Once they were gone, he figured he could reveal the truth to his girlfriend and they could sneak some kisses behind the darts booth. Easy peasy, like his Grandma used to say. Or not.

“We could go sit down near the stage,” Jeff suggested, his usual heart of gold shining through. “There’s supposed to be a show soon, maybe it’ll be good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Donny said. “My mom went to get her nails done yesterday and overheard the Mayor’s wife say they’re doing a tribute for the people who died last year.”

“What happened last year?” Dottie asked, curiously.

“The mall fire I told you about,” Eddie said. “The one Dustin, Erica and Mike were in, that happened today last year.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that,” she nodded, deep in thought before mumbling to herself. “Kinda get it now.”

“Get what now?”

“Mike,” she simply said, and Gareth motioned for her to explain further. “I talked to Nancy earlier this week, she mentioned Mike is being like… super weird lately. He was supposed to be in Cali by now but the only plane ticket they could get was for this weekend so he’s locked himself in the basement for days. Their mom is getting worried.”

“You think he’s having a hard time because of the mall fire?” Donny asked, crossing his arms on this chest.

“Maybe. Who knows what they saw in there? He could be thinking about that because it’s the anniversary.”

“That happens to soldiers sometimes, y’know? They relive things,” Jeff said. “My Dad told me he knew this guy who would start crying whenever his wife made popcorn. That the sound reminded him of guns going off.”

“Well, that isn’t a depressing thought at all,” Gareth said sarcastically, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Why do you think I’m such a pacifist?” Jeff said, grim smile on his face.

“Dustin’s coming back this weekend, right?” Eddie asked the group at large; Dottie nodded in response. “Maybe we should go hang out with him so he doesn’t turn into a hermit like Wheeler. We could play a one-shot or something.”

“I’m in,” Donny said. “I’ll give him a call when he gets back, see if he’s feeling up to it.”

“If we’re not gonna see the show, d’you guys wanna get on the Paratrooper?” Gareth asked.

“Why don’t you go check out the fun house while Dot and I go get some food?” Eddie said. “Still kinda want to sit down for a sec.”

“Meet us by the picnic tables after?” she proposed to the group.

With arrangements in place, the boys quickly got lost into the crowds as they hurried to get in line for the fun house. Eddie put his arm around Dottie and started guiding her towards the other end of the fair where the food stands had been placed this year, cozying up to her without a care in the world as to whether people saw them or not.

“You didn’t actually feel sick at all, did you?” Dottie asked with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Well…,” he grinned, knowing he had immediately been caught. “Would you be mad at me if I told you I lied ‘cause I wanted to make out with you?”

“Hmm, good question. I guess it depends.”

“On?”

“Are we still getting food or not?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, wrapping both arms around her and squeezing tightly. “Of course we’re gonna get food. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am, huh?”

“Stop it, Ed!” she laughed, thrashing around and trying to escape.

“Accusing me of letting my girl go hungry like I’m some kind of asshole, you’re gonna pay for that,” he argued playfully while still dragging her towards the food carts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she begged. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go,” he said, finally getting into the queue leading to the hot dog stand. “But only if you pay your fine first, you fiend.”

“You’re so corny,” she said fondly before grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll go find somewhere to sit before the guys get here. Can you get me-”

“Fries with ketchup on the side? You got it, princess,” he said knowingly, kissing her again before she disappeared behind the booth. “Don’t go too far!”

Dottie walked around the picnic area in search of an empty table but found them all to be overcrowded, as if everyone had chosen that exact moment to grab a bite before the show started. From the lawn where they’d set up the tables, you could see the stage they’d built just for the occasion and, off to the side, the Hawkins High School marching band, patiently waiting with their instruments in hand to start entertaining the growing crowd.

Absent-mindedly, she watched them get into position while wondering just how many people in the cozy small town she’d grown to love had spent the last year in mourning without her paying any mind to it. She thought of Mike, Dustin, and Erica, far too young to have witnessed tragedy. What had happened to them? What things were they still seeing behind their eyelids every time they went to sleep? Was that why Mike had been holed up in his basement all week instead of hanging out with them? Did the fireworks waiting to be set off behind the stage remind him of the gates of Hell opening up as the flames consumed the building he and his friends barely escaped from?

Dottie shivered at the image and quickly turned around as music started playing in the distance. She fully intended on going straight back to Eddie and finding a nice patch of grass to sit on and indulge in their shared food but the sight of someone standing in the darkness between two booths made her stop abruptly. Narrowing her eyes to see better, she realized she recognized that strawberry blonde hair swaying in the warm breeze and began walking towards the secluded area.

“Chrissy?” Dottie called, trying to catch her attention to no avail. “Chrissy, is that you?”

Weaving through groups of people heading towards the stage to catch the show, she approached her friend in a rush, happy to see her after almost a full month of zero contact yet concerned because of her strange behavior. Dottie called her name again once she reached the stands but Chrissy never turned around. She just stood there, unresponsive, her back to the crowd as she faced the edge of the clearing leading to the woods.

“Chris? It-it’s me, Dorothy. You remember me?” Dottie said, a little bit spooked.

She lifted her hand, confused as to why Chrissy was not even acknowledging her presence when she’d always been so kind to her before. Slowly so as not to startle her, her fingertips brushed Chrissy’s bare shoulder while she called her name one more time; upon contact, the blonde’s head was immediately thrown back as her body became lax, falling in slow motion before she passed out right into Dottie. Acting on reflex, she managed to wrap her arms around her friend but could not stop the fall in time, both of them careening onto the floor and hitting the grass with a heavy thud.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Dottie said, still holding the blonde close while feeling for a pulse.

“Dottie?” Chrissy said, mouth dry. She felt damp in her own clothes, like she’d ran a marathon and only now noticed the cold sweat on her skin. “What- what happened? I don’t remember-”

“You passed out on me,” she replied, lifting herself up onto her elbows. “Are you okay? Do you need water? I’m gonna go get you water.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Chrissy grabbed her arm to stop her movements. “Please, don’t leave me alone, what if I pass out again?”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m- I’ll stay,” she nodded. “Um, lay- lay down and lift your legs. Here, against the wall like this.”

Chrissy nodded and lifted her pink sneakers to rest her feet against the warm metal booth wall without letting her friend’s hand go. Her skin was clammy and pale, her heart rate erratic and the circles under her eyes even darker in the shadows that surrounded them. Dottie sat behind her, cushioning her head with her thighs and rubbing calming circles with her thumb on her friend’s shoulder. Slowly, Chrissy’s breathing returned to normal as they stayed there, listening to the band playing in the distance and waiting until danger was seemingly out of sight.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Dottie asked, softly.

“Yeah, thank you,” she smiled, but her eyes remained fearful. “This… this is going to sound insane but - I think I was hallucinating before I passed out.”

“Have you eaten anything lately? Maybe your blood sugar is low.”

“Yeah, I had some fruit earlier. And a smoothie,” Chrissy said.

“When was that?”

“Um, breakfast, I guess? I gained some weight during the holidays so I’m on a diet. I’m so hungry,” she chuckled before she realized what she’d just said. “But I’m okay, seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t worry about you? You need more food than that, you can’t eat just an apple and call it a day!” Dottie said in disbelief. “Come on, I’m getting a soda in you right now.”

“No, please, I swear I’m okay!” she pleaded, suddenly agitated. “I’ll have some soup when I get home, I promise.”

“You just passed out standing here, it’s a miracle I even saw you in the dark! You need food now, Chris, not when you get home in a few hours.”

“Please, Dot. You don’t understand, my Mom will kill me if she sees me eating anything from here.”

“She doesn’t have to find out,” Dottie said, helping her into a sitting position. “We can hide in Eddie’s van, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Oh, no, am I ruining your date night? I’m so sorry, I’ll just go-”

“You’re not ruining anything, we came as a group. It’s not a date,” she reassured her. “And even if it was, I can’t let you go like this! You’d be worried if it was me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, but-”

“No buts. Just let me help you out like you’d do for me. If anyone asks where you went, just tell them I was the one feeling sick and you took care of me for a bit. Nobody needs to know. Not your Mom, not Jason-”

“Oh, god, Jason,” Chrissy groaned, throwing an arm on her eyes. “I forgot about him!”

“What, he’s here?” Dottie said, craning her neck to see if he could spot him nearby.

“No, no, it’s… ugh. I’ve been avoiding him all week. I saw him with his friends by the teacups - that’s why I was here when I passed out, I was hiding from him. I must have gotten winded from running away or something and, you know…,” she gestured vaguely.

“Why are you avoiding him? Did he hurt you?”

“No, actually I hurt him.”

“What?”

“I broke up with him,” Chrissy explained in a tone that could only be interpreted as annoyed. “I just have too much going on right now. I have no time to see him with all the training I’m supposed to do before the preseason starts. And, well, he didn’t take it well. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Dottie snorted. “He’s trying to win you back?”

“No, he, like, refuses to accept that I broke up with him. Says it doesn’t count because I didn’t say it to his face.”

“Oh my god, you broke up with him over the phone? Chrissy, you dog!”

“I know, shut up!” they laughed together. “I know it was mean, I just didn’t want to see him cry, okay?”

“He cried?!” Dottie cackled loudly as if they were having a sleepover in her bedroom and not sitting in the dark between two food stalls. “I’d say I’m sorry but you don’t look too sad.”

“I’m not,” she said truthfully. “I mean… I don’t know, he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He loves me and he really tries but I just can’t deal with my Mom, him, getting ready for college, everything at the same time. It’s too much right now. And I keep having these horrible nightmares that just feel so real. I just needed a break, that’s all. It’s not his fault.”

“Well… maybe avoiding him is not doing you any good either,” the brunette reasoned. “It’s definitely stressing you out if you have to actively hide from him. I’m sure if you told him everything that’s going on in your life, he’d understand.”

“He’s going to think I’m losing my mind.”

“Welcome to the club, sweet cheeks,” Dottie palmed her face sarcastically, making her snort. “Look, it doesn’t have to be now, okay? Just think about it for a while and do what your heart tells you to do. Preferably after we get some food in you, please.”

“You’re so pushy sometimes,” Chrissy said kindly.

“I know,” she grinned in return. “Come on, let’s find Eddie and borrow his keys.”

Upon standing up, Chrissy’s legs didn’t even get the chance to wobble before Dottie was throwing an arm around her waist to help support her weight. Feeling equal parts thankful and embarrassed, she let herself be carried through the picnic area as they both scanned the crowd for the tall metalhead that had orchestrated the beginnings of their friendship. They found him standing on his tiptoes trying to spot a familiar face, hands and cargo short pockets full of goodies to share with friends.

“Hey, Chris!” Eddie said when they got near him. “When did you get back from up North?”

“Hi, Eddie! Uh, last weekend,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t called, I’ve just been so busy training and everything.”

“Ed, can we get your keys?” Dottie asked. “Chrissy isn’t feeling well and there are no free tables here where she can sit.”

“Yeah, sure. They’re in my back pocket,” he turned around and popped his butt out so Dottie could grab them for him. “You okay?”

“I’m better now, thank you,” the blonde said. “I passed out and Dot caught me, thank God she was there.”

“You passed out? I can go get you water if you want,” he offered, following the girls towards the parking area.

“I think she needs some sugar,” Dottie said. “Did you get any sodas?”

“Yeah, in my pockets,” he jiggled his foot a bit in the air to demonstrate how full they were. “I didn’t have enough hands for everything.”

“Sorry I abandoned you back there.”

“It’s okay, Chrissy needed you more.”

Once the trio was safely tucked in the back of the van, Chrissy filled Eddie in about what was going on in her life and, as expected, he reacted similarly to his girlfriend when it was revealed that Jason had indeed cried over the phone while getting dumped. He was much less insistent on her talking to her now ex-boyfriend to sort out their issues, but he still remained fairly supportive of her choices as he had always been.

Dottie picked at the basket of fries as Chrissy and Eddie talked, carefully paying attention to her friend’s eating habits. She had initially accepted the cold can of Coke Eddie had offered and taken a promising sip from it, but after that it remained untouched, condensation forming a ring on the floor of the van. Chrissy ate a total of two fries with no ketchup, and only took a tiny bite out of Eddie’s jumbo pretzel when he said that salt would help her blood pressure go up after passing out. Dottie knew this was likely much deeper than just this new diet her Mom had put her in and wasn’t really sure how to approach the situation gently. There was no need to, however, not when Eddie was three steps ahead and not willing to take no for an answer.

“You don’t like ketchup?” he asked her, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“No, I do, it’s just… I’m not feeling well,” Chrissy lied, rubbing her stomach. “I’m still a little dizzy.”

“You should drink more, the sugar will help,” he pushed, but not unkindly. “I can get you a different one if you don’t like Coke.”

“Sorry, I… I know I’m being weird,” she said, embarrassed.

“Chris, no one here is going to judge you for eating junk food. It’s a fair, it’s what you’re supposed to do at these places,” he patted her knee. “You can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple, Ed. My Mom will literally kill me if she finds out.”

“You’re 18. You’re moving to Ohio in a few weeks. Fuck what your Mom says, you’re practically skin and bones. Just eat the damn pretzel, please.”

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, eyes beginning to fill with tears she’d been hiding for a lifetime now. “My new uniform doesn’t fit. I- I know I gained weight during the holidays, but it wasn’t that much. She must have gotten the wrong size on purpose because it’s so small. I’ll never fit in it.”

“God, Chrissy,” Dottie said, leaning to pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. Can you exchange it for a bigger one? You can use my address for the delivery so your Mom doesn’t find out.”

“I called them already, you can’t send it back because it’s made to order. I have to get a new one or alter it, and my Mom already said she’s not helping me.”

“I can alter it for you! We can call my aunt for advice, she’s a great seamstress. I’m sure she’ll know what to do, we’ll figure it out!”

“It’s so unfair,” Chrissy said, her jaw tight. “I’m working out for hours every day, I’m barely eating, and I’m still not losing enough weight for her. I’m just so… so angry all the time!”

“Good! Get angry!” Eddie said. “We’ve been friends for months and I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites at a time. You deserve more than this, sweetheart. It’s okay if you’re pissed off, we’re not judging.”

“You also deserve to be healthy,” Dottie said. “And sometimes, healthy means sharing a basket of fries with friends. Do you think you can do that today? For us?”

Ever since she’d come back from her trip, Chrissy felt like her life was rapidly spiralling out of control. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the years of starving, binging, and purging to be followed by constant verbal abuse within the walls of her own home were finally catching up to her. She’d spent the last week eating cabbage soup and drinking herbal teas and weight-loss smoothies and she was so tired.

She was tired of everything, of the expectations placed upon her, of the persistent burning in her throat, of having to lie to her boyfriend, to her friends, to her doctors, to her own father. But most importantly, she was tired of the ever-present pang of hunger at the base of her stomach, and about feeling guilty of both getting rid of it or forcing herself to sleep the pain away.

With more anger than she’d ever allowed herself to truly feel in her entire life, she leaned over the basket of fries to reach for Eddie’s jumbo pretzel. Her friends watched in awe as she ripped apart a big piece from it, dunked it in the little cheese sauce container next to it and shoved it in her mouth, letting out a happy moan at the taste of the first appetizing food she’d had in forever. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the Coke can from its place on Eddie’s van floor and hurriedly gulped half of it, a stray drop escaping the side of her lips and falling onto her waiting hand under her chin.

“Goddamn, Chris!” Eddie exclaimed, clapping wildly for her.

“That was awesome,” Dottie said, eyes shining with delight.

“It felt awesome,” Chrissy said, both proud and shy at the same time.

Two booming hits to the side of the van made them all jump in their spots, a familiar nasal voice loudly ringing from the outside before the back doors had even been opened.

“If you guys wanted to go make out somewhere, you could have - oh,” said Gareth, clearly stunned to see Chrissy inside. “Hi?”

Still holding the can of Coke mid air, she opened her mouth to say hello when a huge belch came gurgling from the depths of her throat. Gareth, Jeff, and Donny stood there, completely shocked as the blonde turned to look at the only other girl present, both of them instantly dissolving into a fit of giggles as soon as they locked eyes with one another. Dottie enveloped her again in a tight hug and Chrissy returned it, feeling more like herself than she could ever remember being.

“You three joining the party or what?” Eddie said, scooting to make room.

“We thought you guys had ditched us,” Jeff said, climbing in while holding another basket of fries, a big plastic cup of fresh lemonade and a corn dog with mustard on it.

“Sorry I stole them away,” Chrissy smiled at him. “I was feeling sick so they’ve been taking care of me.”

“You okay?” Donny asked, dropping a huge funnel cake with powdered sugar and a popcorn bag in the middle of the circle for everyone to grab.

“I feel much better, thank you.”

The boys quickly got into a dramatic retelling of the contents of the fun house, which according to Gareth was for babies but still miles better than last year’s. Dottie and Jeff were discussing what ride they wanted to get on next while Donny and Gareth were sharing bits of funnel cake, commenting on the pros and cons of the different rooms inside the fun house they’d just visited when Chrissy felt movement next to her.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice low to keep the conversation to follow as private as he could.

“Hey.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own, y’know?” he said, leaning to grab a few pieces of popcorn. “We’re here if you need us. I know we’re not, like, cool or popular or anything, but we take care of our own.”

“I know, Eddie. Thank you,” she said, pulling him into a hug that conveyed how much trust she had in him and how meaningful his words were to her.

“What are we hugging for?” Jeff asked, passing his half eaten corn dog to Dottie who took a bite with gusto.

“The power of friendship,” Eddie replied theatrically.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Y’all wanna hotbox the van in the name of friendship?” Gareth said, pulling a little metal case from his pocket.

“Yes, please, I haven’t smoked in forever,” Chrissy said, snacking on a long fry.

“Fuck yeah, man, let’s do it,” Donny said as he relaxed against the walls of the van.

“You wanna go to the Ferris Wheel while they smoke?” Dottie proposed to Jeff, the only other non-smoker in the group.

“Come on, we’re not kicking you guys out so we can hotbox the van,” Eddie said, stretching behind Chrissy to shove her shoulder lightly. “We’ll open the windows, we’re not animals.”

“We can still do the Ferris Wheel later though,” Jeff said. “Should be fun.”

“You guys wanna go to the photobooth later too?” Chrissy asked while Gareth tightly packed a joint.

“There’s a photobooth?” Dottie said, instantly down for the new plans. “Do you think all of us can fit in together?”

“Definitely not, but we should try anyway,” Donny laughed.

It had never been easy for Chrissy to rely on others, and it wasn’t going to be easy to start now, but for these friends, her first real friends, she was willing to try. Besides, Eddie was right. Just a few more weeks and she’d be in Ohio, away from her overbearing mother and starting a completely new life, meeting new teammates and attending classes that actually interested her for once. She could only hope that these friendships she was beginning to develop would accompany her until her last day in Hawkins, and possibly even beyond that.

Freedom was so close, the finish line in sight. She just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time and victory would be hers. It was a shame, really, that she didn’t know someone else was quickly gaining on her on the inside track.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

@cinemabean

[thekatea]

The White Olive Tree - finished 16.02.2025

In hell we’ll meet, tortured by the past. I have such conflicting feelings about this drama. I loved and hated exactly the same aspects of the writing.

This is not a fun romance with excitement and angst delivered by the war context. This is not “Descendants of the Sun” with no real stakes. People die here, painful and tragic deaths. There are real consequences the characters need to face, the traumas are not magically healed. It’s heavy, it's painful. It’s real.

As much as it is a love story, I think the central part of it is the trauma. From a psychological point of view, they did a lot of this right, starting from the diagnosis and ending on the conclusion. Traumatic experiences do not always only lead to PTSD. Sometimes you might end up with anxiety, depression, OCD. So not labeling every character with PTSD was great. Different people will react to situations differently.

Song Ran became depressed, Li Zan who was by all means no cut for the job in the military, ended up with severe PTSD. Benjamin who from a young age led a rather hard life was able to require a lot of emotional resilience and handled the emotional pain in the most healthy way. Sa Xin who lost his mother spiraled into anger and need for justice and revenge.

What's more, I do appreciate how with Li Zan case, they show psychological issues can heavily impact your recovery from physical injuries too. How scary the process of recovery is. How, while taking the first step is the key, it's not the end of it all. Even after seeing the psychiatrist he was still hesitant. He did not follow up. He claims to be better. He kept lying to himself and to others. So sometimes it's easier to convince yourself you are getting better and you can push through it by yourself. Fooling yourself you are stronger than you truly are.

Then we had Song Ran - what a great portrayal of depression and anxiety. How from the outside she might have seemed fine, but we as viewers saw how she was not, how she was honestly barely holding up at times. I love how they didn’t show depression as this 1:0 idea - you are either completely dysfunctional, or fine. With depression you can also have good days, you can be happy, smile.

What’s so tragic for me is - this is a love story that should have not happened for Song Ran’s sake. She could have healed from her depression, she could have gotten better, if it was not for Li Zan constantly re-traumatizing her with his actions. Li Zan was such a great and complex character.

I could write a whole essay just about him. A man that had skill that could save many people, but also no psychological advantages and strengths required to do the job. I love how this drama shows good intentions do not mean good results. How traits we see as good: empathy, selflessness, compassion, in extreme situations can be a person's biggest flaws. Li Zan has a savior complex and there was no good way out of the situation he was in. Not going to Easter Country would eat him alive from the grief and guilt of not helping when he can. Going back to Easter Country means getting more traumas on top of the ones he did not heal from. He hurt himself, he hurt people he loved, but he also saved so many lives. But no matter the choice, he would be feeling guilty and that feeling would slowly kill him. It’s a tragic story that could not have a happy ending.

I know there are different opinions about the ending, but for me it’s rather clear him and Song committed suicide. He understood she would never leave him alone. She understood he will never get better. They decided to be together till the end. And they decided when the end will happen. From the scene of them talking about reincarnation, to the narrated goodbye letter to the parents, not once showing them interact with anyone after it was written. Even the oversaturated editing that made them glow in the last scene - that’s the tragic ending I think the majority of us knew will happen, even if we wanted to live in denial till the end.

At the same time at some point I was getting tired with how "realistic" the drama was. Yes, the recovery from any psychological issue is a whole journey, but this is a show... it has to be presented in a way that reflects reality WHILE keeping the viewers engaged and not exhausted. We are running in circles with little to no development. The message was clear, but they still hammered it over and over again.

The repetitiveness at some point crossed the line from - that's how life works, to - well now I don;’t feel as emotionally impacted by what I’m seeing, because I saw more or less the exact same scene in this show five times already.

It kind of starts to feel like a trauma porn... no balance of anything. There are no ups and downs. It's just down, down.... and a bit more down until we are in a fucking hell of traumas and mental disorders and bad news and no happiness and no rays of hope. Especially on Zan’s part. Song at least vented her sadness to him, and he just took it all in, when he couldn’t even handle his own feelings, not to mention help others dealing with theirs. He was emotionally overworked and it's exhausting to watch.

I am aware that the drama truly showed just glimpses of how bad a real war is. This is nothing compared to reality. But this is not reality. This is not a documentary. I do think that it’s a valid criticism of how far they tried to make the audience feel sad and bad. A Perfect example was Ben’s death which was extremely unnecessary. What was the point of killing Ben? What did it bring to the story? To the message? Other than dumping more trauma onto the viewers? Especially with how they set it up with Ben’s talks about how he found a new family in his friends, how he felt more grounded and alive than ever before. Scenes of his plans to start over and get a degree in journalism. They did everything they could to make Ben’s death feel as tragic and painful as it could get, and I do not understand why. It’s just dumping trauma for the sake of trauma alone.

Moving on from the sadness into more happy/good aspects: I cannot ignore the bromance between Ben and Sa Xin. I honestly went crazy for these two. By all means they followed so many dynamics of a typical straight secondary couple. They shared such a profound connection and care for each other, it was hard not to want something more from them. The writing team did all they could to include as much of them as possible, by passing the censorship by giving Ben a “romantic interest” that got barely any screen time or depth. I will die on this hill - Dr. Pei existed just to pass the censorship.

Now, I need to talk about the performances. I want to be clear - the whole main cast did a stellar job with their portrayal, but Chen Zhe Yuan delivered probaby the best performance of his life and everyone else just faded into background. I am speechless. I knew he was good, I did not know he was this good. I don’t even know how to express how impressed I am by each and every scene he delivered. How much Li Zan changed as the character, how well Zhe Yuan was able to transition from this confident man to a shell of his past self. How you could feel the silent pain when he was trying to hold it all in, and the raging despair when he was breaking down thinking Song was hurt and dead. Be it subtle representation of extreme emotions, or completely uncontrolled misery - he did not waste one second of his screen time.

On the other hand… the way the poor dubbing and acting of the majority of foreigners often completely took me out of the scene I was watching was simply disappointing. such a high quality of drama and production, with such a low quality of casting for guest and bits parts.

Then we have the soundtrack. I am not a person that pays that much attention to the music in dramas and music unless it’s extremely good, or extremely bad. Here the extremely good fits perfectly. Some of my favorite songs were: Ignite Me On Fire, Into the Pieces, Find My Way Back to Life, Home. As a whole the OST is an easy 10/10 (except for that do re mi fa sol la song, I cannot with that chorus, it should not exist).

For the production - impressive. The fighting scenes were well choreographed and it made sense there were not that many of them - no one has hand to hand combat during wars, they use guns. The explosions were surprisingly well produced too. We know how off Chinese dramas can get with their CGI and special effects, so I’m glad they put quite a lot of effort to make it good here. What’s more? Really well done prosthetic make up for Zan’s fingers. I was curious if they would just cleverly use angles or make him hide in hand all the time, and I was surprised they actually made the effort to show us how it looks, and also make it look realistic.

Overall, this was for sure a journey. Emotional and tragic one. Maybe a bit too tragic on the delivery. At some point I felt like the tragic scenes were not even said, because they did not make much sense plot wise. Maybe if the show was a little bit shorter - 30 episodes would probably be enough to present the same story with the same impact, but less repetitiveness. As human beings we get desensitized after being exposed to the same thing over and over again, and the writers did not take that into consideration when planning how to present the plot.

[aclockworkreader]

Oh I just saw your Bridgerton post and I've also watched season two a worrying amount of times... What are your thoughts on it? I believe that the understanding between Kate and Anthony because of their enormous responsability and the unhealthy family dynamics are what draws me in (and also the chemestry and forbidden romance of It all, let's be honest). I wish the production treated Simone Ashley better though, at this point there are so many weird actions towards her that I'm probably quitting the show...

oh it’s 100% the family dynamics and the chemistry for me too. that season was made for eldest siblings and as an eldest sibling, it really HITS. the actors are incredible (the chemistry they have cannot be taught!!), the writing is at its peak, and the show understands exactly what it is: it doesn’t take itself too seriously while also balancing heavier themes of grief and trauma.

i don’t really like the other two seasons (for a multitude of reasons) and i hated the book, so sometimes i’m amazed by how much i actually love season two.

i don’t know much about how the production has treated her, i’m not up to date on what’s going on in the bridgerton fandom. but if you mean the way they were dressing her in the most recent season then…..yeah. that was….a crime 😭

[cedric-k-rossignol]

I love how undertaker went from this serious, no nonsense guy with a fckin ribbon in his hair ( he is the original coquette girly🎀) to this dishevelled stinky man; he is so unwashed to the point that his white hair appears to be grey😰and I don't understand how he is still the most beautiful male in the manga lol. Even grell says that he is attractive, but how?!! Anyways , now that he is in the manor I hope that tanaka will force him to take a bath after 23 years....

LMFAO not this Undertaker slander in my inbox 😂😭 my musty, dusty, crusty king, now and forever.

He was the original coquette girly - dude cleans up niceeeeeeee. I need more art, official or fan, of him in his reaper outfit - and him and his cunty ponytail 🎀

Also, is he wearing blundstones*???

King shit. Man never misses with his choice of footwear. I too exclusively wear blundstones and bdsmesque thigh-high boots. It's the uniform of the pnw 🤷

I maintain that when Claudia was around he bathed regularly, otherwise girlie would have been done in by a bladder infection pretty damn quickly. It was only after she died that his self-care went to hell. Grief-fueled depression is no joke 💔

I have so many thoughts on the Tanaka-Undertaker dynamic and omg the image of Tanaka hosing him down like a pitiful dog who hates bath time is 👌 manifesting this.

Also you don't understand how he's the most beautiful male in the manga?

Undertaker needs a bath but I think you need an eye exam anon. He might be stinky but he is STUNNING. Thanks for the ask!

* okay so evidently Chelsea boots were invented by fucking Queen Victoria's shoemaker. I AM TERRIFIED OF YANA TOBOSO.

[whumpdoyoumean]

Happy International Fanworks Day!🎉

To celebrate, here are some of my favorite fics (all on Ao3). Go give 'em a read!

+Misunderstandings + Pizza Margherita by @elspirito23 --My dear dear sister wrote this. She's the one that got me into fic and introduced me to the term 'whump'. This is one of my favorites by her! It's a Man From UNCLE fic, with Napoleon whump, Illya guilt, and a nice dose of fluff. I love it so much!

+And on the seventh... by Dorinda --A Master and Commander Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin fic wherein they both go overboard during a battle and end up stranded on an island together. It's very well written and whumpy, and seems meticulously researched with lots of cool little details.

+The Forest Primeval by athena_crikey --An Endeavour whump fic! This is one of the very first fics I read on Ao3 and holds a special place in my heart. The characterizations are great and the whump is v good!

+The Ex by Marchling --911 Bucktommy Buck Whump fic! It's very good whump. And there was recently(ish) a second chapter added, so you get to read about it from both Buck and Tommy's POV which is super neat!

+Who are the Wolves in your Head? by LittleDarlingXOX --This was one of my favorite fics over on ff.net back in the day, and I recently discovered that it's on Ao3 as well! It's got Dick Grayson whump (hell yeah) and Jason Todd angst, it's sooo good! Sad and lovely!

+Lazarus Syndrome by Miss_Six --This Pacific Rim fic isn't overly whumpy, but it's very, very good. A super interesting take on the Drift. Super lovely fic with good Raleigh angst!

+sometimes the short end of the stick is the sharpest by @cartwrong --Slow Horses has been a unique experience for me in terms of fandom, in that I got in very early, and it's one of the smaller fandoms I've been in--and also one of the most active! And a large percentage of us like to put River Cartwright through it (and by it I mean hell, sorry River). This fic is no exception. The characterizations are on point and the whump is great!

+It's the Perfect Time of Year (Somewhere Far Away From Here) by @deepwoundsandfadedscars --Though I've never played it myself, as a preteen I used to watch my big brother play Uncharted in the hopes of there being some Nathan whump. This fic not only delivers on the Nathan whump, it packs a hell of an emotional punch. It's gorgeous and heart-wrenching, an intimate look at grief. Very good. <3

[jehan-d-art]

@gayautisticraccoon you speak about projecting feelings for one person onto another person and more or less, even without saying it like that, about going for the more accepted option (aka a lifestyle as defined by a heteronormative society) even without actively making that decision or at least not making that decision with the knowledge that one is surpressing one’s true feelings.

Gaon loved Soohyun but I do think he was in denial regarding what kind of love he felt for her.

in a way I wanted to show just that, meaning that there are so many different kinds of love and that sometimes love can change into something else other than what one expected it to be but it can still be something that is not any less meaningful than what it could have been. it's simply something else. - to me, friendships or committed partnerships (no matter whether they are romantic, sexual, neither or both or something else altogether in nature) are in no way either more or less meaningful than the other, they simply are different kinds of relationships.

to be honest, I could have talked about any other fictional character and yet Gaon seemed the most fitting. in my opinion, he was never actually romantically interested in Soohyun. he always ever loved her dearly, felt comfortable and safe when she was with him and by his side, which of course shows a deep emotional connection.

though, here I think he talked himself into believing she was his first love. by not acting on those feelings, he kept their relationship vague enough because there were so many obvious signs that Soohyun was very much in love with him. I still wholeheartedly believe it was one-sided and that Gaon mistook his own feelings as him wanting to be with her romantically. however he also probably told himself he couldn't be with her because of how much he had already suffered (and that he would only drag her down with him if he tried being with her as the boyfriend she wanted him to be.)

the thing is, Gaon touches Yohan much more than he touches Soohyun and Gaon gets touched much more by Yohan in return. I acknowledge this is partially caused by them being the two main characters but here I think I also have to mention it is canon that Gaon basically takes the role of the traditional female lead - which makes Yohan the male lead and it shows that the two of them are constantly connected, be it by actions, by words or even by touch.

I have not yet mentioned the underlying tension between them, which, over time, changes from mutual distrust to mutual devotion and the want to keep the other safe.

oh and the dreams about each other... the one dream that stood out to me the most was when Gaon dreamt about Yohan performing that surgery: why would he dream about Yohan straddling and touching another man like that, while he talks in a voice that is more seductive than threatening? why would Gaon's mind come up with all that if it wasn't meant as some kind of slightly bizzare wet dream...

in the end, when Gaon thinks he has lost Yohan and when he is thus driven by his grief, he very nearly comes to the same tragic conclusion as his own mother: he very nearly ends his own life, attempting to follow the man he has fallen in love with (and I don't even know if Gaon is even aware of the depth of his feelings at that point).

long story short: I am certain Gaon projected all his possible romantic feelings onto Soohyun which wasn't fair to either one of them, though at least he never actually got together with her and ended up hurting both of them even more by forcing himself even more into trying to life a heteronormative life. in my opinion, Gaon started to let go of his comphet mindset when he got closer and closer to Yohan, emotionally and physically before he eventually ended up falling in love with him.

[backjustforberena]

EVE BEST as ROSALINE WARD in “Maryland” 1x02 -  ( footage thanks to @evebestonline )

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

[art-soboro]

a flood of miracles wouldn't be enough because you called my name

[untitledgoosegay]

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis