#i think its because theres always a sense of self importance to it. like its Important that a movie is communist or not

[mummer]

also idk if this is just me but im always so bored of “marxist film critique” it’s like 100% the least interesting part of any movie but it’s without fail intensely lame when written out extensively into a review or analysis. like is any of this really expanding my understanding of any given movie i dont really give a shit if a character is the specific exact same kind of communist as me. especially when most of it is like video essays about which pixar films are secretly socialist af or why marvel movies are capitalist propaganda trying to destroy the minds of our youth sorry jacobin mag but ummmm IDGAF!!!!!!!!!

[sundays-mutt]

john in rdr1 is so special to me i feel crazuyzuzyszy

[celestialtarot11]

Astro Post 🪽

Hi lovelies! A new astro post for ya’ll! Hope ya’ll enjoy! Feel free to like comment and reblog with your feedback, or thoughts. I would love to hear! 🤍

divider creds: @fairytopea

Cap moon babies…it takes us a while to figure out who we are amongst the chaos. I think its important for Cap moons to experience living alone, outside of trauma because its necessary for our development. We crave stability and order, and when we live in an environment that isn’t conducive to that, we get unstable within ourselves. That being said: cap moons need to be alone at some point to figure out who they are instead of constantly saving people around them, or adjusting their personality to reduce backlash. Love you cap moons 🤍 (including me)

Pisces moon, ya’ll be similar to cap moons too. Its easy for yall to get stuck to your environment because it feels safe. It feels like its your only “checkpoint” to everything feeling real. So much that when you enter the real world it feels like a dream. Doing day to day things can trigger dissociation, because you only really felt alive during the traumatic moments. Pisces babes, please if you can create a safe space for yourself to grow outside of trauma. Just like cap moon.

And I think this goes for everyone regardless of astrology.

Aquarius placements, the need to feel unique and special can become tedious. Aquarius placements feel this way to feel chosen, and validated in their community after being neglected. Sometimes perfectionism can get in the way of Aquarius loving themselves truthfully, because they want to project an image of accuracy. So much that people can’t make out anything wrong about them. If they have neptune affliction to their personal placements, its almost about: “an illusion,” ��i was never really there,” “and you cant find anything wrong with me if i never existed.” And some of them own this insecurity and work with it. Aqua placements, regardless of your past you will always be chosen by your higher self and spirit 🤍 you have someone rooting for you: you. Your future self.

Leo sun women, you don’t have to dim your light to seem more “mature,” “smart,” and “poised.” You are the light your inner child needs and anyone who stifles that, is also stifling the love you share to your inner child. Think about it. Your joy is your inner child, you get excitement from the littlest of things and having someone constrict that: means they are lessening the relationship you have with yourself. Don’t stick around with people who rain on your shine! Stick with others who shine with you. Leo sun women are so connected with their heart and inner child, that relationship is strong. Of course it can be weakened with trauma and pain, but Leo sun women need to be surrounded by those who uplift them!

Virgo placements knowing when something isn’t right and then dissing their intuition. Virgo pls, in esoteric astrology you’re known as the messenger of intuition and divine order! Gemini is the process of expressing it, but Virgo is the vessel to receive it. You guys know whats up immediately, and have a strong sense of internal navigation. You guys know where to find and create safe spaces if theres none, and your intuition knows if someone isn’t up to any good. Save yourself the villain arc, and trust yourself babes 🤍

Aries rising libra on the descendant, many others expected you to be poised, graceful, and humble to the point of neglecting who you are to fit in. Aries rising I think, always knew they weren’t the type to just “fit in,” since they were young. They knew they’d be open, outspoken, authentic and honest. Even if it shook people, which isn’t the same as being blunt: it’s called being truthful. And the truth scares people who avoid it. As Aries rising grows older they hone their personality that is honest, bold and confident, and releases the codependent part of them. 🪽🤍

Extra 🤍

Paid Readings 🪽

PAC Readings 🪽

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello! First of all I wanted to say that damn I love your fics, they give me so much gender euphoria and are so validating. Second, I understand if you feel unconfortable with this request but how do you think Homelander would react to reader's self harm scars? Since he's basically a god, I wouldn't be suprised by how a "fragile little creature" like a human could do this and why.

John Gillman/Homelander x male reader

Headcanons

idk why i chose this gif, he just looks so cute here.

I ignore how in canon hed probably be a horrible guy about it. I am a firm fanon believer.

In the beginning I don’t even really think John would register that his lover has self-harm scars, since it’s never something he’s thought about himself. I imagine he’s had self-harming thoughts before sure, but never cutting himself since nothing can cut through him.

Hes probably tried to hurt himself one way or another, since he isn’t really the best place mentally, or when he thinks he isn’t doing good enough and whatnot.

But at first it doesn’t really click for him, since he’s so unused to seeing scars since he has none himself. It would probably take John longer than he would like to admit for it all to make sense, and it would be after you got comfortable enough to go around in short sleeves.

Maybe you think he’s just always known, since he’s got x-ray vision and all that, so he must have known from the beginning, right? And he just never said anything about it. yeah, not really.

He will act like that’s how it all went, because there’s no way Johns gonna admit that he didn’t notice something so important, no matter if they are old or fresh. If they’re fresh, John would build a habit of checking on you every time he sees you, just in case, you know?

He might still do this, even if they are old and you haven’t done it in a long time. Because who knows, maybe things become so stressful that you need that outlet again.

Shamefully, to John at least, the hero would find himself going online to check it out. Hes got no training in mental illness or how to deal with that, which messes with him since he’s supposed to be perfect.

So he finds himself on different forums, from both people who have done it, and partners of people who have self-harmed, reading into how they deal with it or react. John being, well, John, would probably grow annoyed because its all types of emotionally vulnerable stuff, something he’s horrible at.

There is also little chance he would bring it up, at least in the beginning. Again, because it’s a new ground he’s never been on, and its an emotional conversation he can’t figure out how to navigate.

The conversation would end up coming up as you two are cuddling, and John finds himself carefully stroking the area with the scars, trying to comprehend why and how you would do that. What did you go through? There might also be some guilt, since he couldn’t save you from whatever made you self-harm, even if you guys didn’t even know each other at the time.

It would end up with you explaining it to him, since you guys are in a relationship and its all built on trust, right? And he’s been so chill about it this entire time, so why not tell him.

You almost get a heart attack when he starts getting glossy eyes and his bottom lip wobbles just a little, because John has been stressed about this since he figured it out, and he just doesn’t know how to react or what to do.

In the end its you that has to comfort him, and explain that it isn’t a big deal and nothing to cry about. But you also know it’s a new experience for John. Theres also some fear in John, since seeing your scars make your morality so clear. If you could get scars from that, imagine what others could do to you.

After some cuddling and comforting, John would tell you strictly to never do it again. You cant take him seriously though, since his usually styled hair is all mused and his eyes are pink around the edges, and, he’s pouting again.

You promise not too though, since it gets him to smile a little and cuddle you again, clinging to you as hard as he dares with his super strength. You make him vulnerable, and the Homelander part of him doesn’t like that, but the John part of him basks in it, at how human you make him feel.

Maybe hed even let slip that he had thoughts like that too, even if he couldn’t cut or burn himself like you could. That just means his self-harm shone through in more mental or extreme ways.

John builds a habit of brushing his fingers or kisses over your scars, not just the self-harm ones, but all of them. Its part to remind himself that you are so fragile, but also to remind him that you are alive and there with him.

He won’t admit this though, since its cheesy. And he grows embarrassed if you ever bring it up, making him grumble and walk away to pout. It never lasts, and he’s back not long after.

[wszczebrzyszynie]

In your older art (when he was a rabbit breeder named Nikita I think) Mikita seems much more… smiley than he is now. The first time I saw him (I think 2022) I remember him being gay + aro instead of aroace. I adore this character and I would love to know how he changed/developed over the years!

Oh gladly. I adore this topic. Mikita is my oldest one (8 years old now!) and i have quite a lot to say and show about him, so ill put it under the read more. For some reason the picture formatting is completly broken when i do it. Thank you for the kind words

Mikita went through quite a lot name changes now that i think about it, at least compared to my other ocs; it went hand in hand with his ethnicity mostly, as he was i believe polish first, then polish/lithuanian and only since... 2020? belarusian (which i agree is definitely... a pipeline, but theres no deeper meaning behind it; for the 70% of his life the world he lived in was 100% fictional, and at the beginning even fantasy-like). His first actual name (not "rabbit breeder", which was the title used for him in the original story instead of a name. Names were a modern au thing) if im not mistaken was Fryderyk, then Nikita, and then Mikita. That name change did probably happen around 2022 because a Belarusian belarusianized his name for me and I liked it so i changed it. Very nice of them it makes much more sense in the current story

Years 2016-2020-ish he was gay (but not aromantic) and also dating Mikołaj; frankly i do not remember when exactly that changed, but he and Mikołaj are some of my oldest still in use ocs and they were always a package deal of sorts. Last time i drew shipart of them was in 2021. I think it might have stopped around the time i realized i am aromantic? It was a very important moment to me and the second it clicked i realized most of my ocs were secretly aromantic all along too. It was pretty funny now that i think about it

Personality wise he was a bit insufferable. Well he used to age with me (like most of my ocs) so he was very much a 15 year old. Very bratty and unempathetic to others, actively manipulative and overly ambitious. He used to smile a lot yes it was very in character then and i think it makes him look more annoying so it stays. Well either way i made so much art of him in that time i actually canonized it as his younger self in canon, now that hes older. I think thats a fun choice and i still like his old design, so its good to reuse it. Art from 2020, 2021 and 2023. I think current Mika would hate his old self a lot

Frankly when it comes to my ocs the big shift from that more dystopian completly fictional setting to more historically grounded one happened at some point and i dont remember when that was. 2020-2021 ish possibly. Its hard to remember because it did not happen from day to day; i think i abandoned these ocs original story for months before i made that choice? and even then i dont remember how current DNS or such a clear idea for it came to be, especially considering that it changed basically every single character drastically. Its weird to me but i suppose that knowledge is lost. That being said i think it does coincide with the creation of Przemek, who quickly became one of my favourites, so maybe theres that. I dont know. Well either way its a very good thing that it happened

[thecartoonrambler]

Why Wander is such an important character

Very long post below!

Ill be rambling about Wander over Yonder, specifically, WANDER!!

The show in itself is already amazing, the episodes are short and fun, each character is oozing with personality and fun interactions and there are always ways in which it is all connected. Further on the animation of the show and overall look is absolutely adorable!

For me personally, Wander is simply such an important character and not for few reasons.

I love that Wander's silly happy go lucky personality is so addictive. He's a happy person, who gets happy by helping others in need, even to points where he gets himself in trouble (every episode LOL) But regardless i think they are such an important character traits to have (Happiness, altruism, Optimism).

In today's depressing and violent world, where everyone just fights with each other, a character like Wander can be a sense of hope or inspiration!

Of course, many main characters have these traits as well, but i think a key difference between Wander and many other optimist protagonists lies in their EXPERIENCE IN LIFE!

These other protags are innocent, naive optimists, because they haven't experienced "the real world" yet. And while it makes sense to have characters like these (as an allegory to growing up), they get really tiring and repetitive really quickly. They also commonly showcase optimism and naivety to go hand in hand. And its why a lot if people commonly believe that "realsim" is inherently "pessimistic" (it isn't btw. Theres good and bad in life, denying theres good, is denying reality)

Its extremely refreshing to have a main character like Wander, actually be hinted at being millennias old, repeatedly converting villains to good throughout the eons, out of a sense of duty (and perhaps also Pacifist revenge for his childhood, where its hinted that his entire planet was destroyed and he was the only survivor.)

not only is this also something that one learns, the more one watches (keeping the viewer intrigued) but the fact that so much about Wander's life and past is a mystery is what makes him a fascinating character. At first glance hes just some helpful guy, and the more you learn about him, the more you more you think "who is this guy?" Not in a negative way, but in a complete curiosity. Is it possible he's as old as the universe himself? If so does he know it? Who is he? What actually happened in his past? How did he live before his hat? Was there a time he wasn't as helpful? What caused him to change? Who is he? But at the same time, the viewer doesn't NEED to know. Theres no stress to, no hurry to uncover a mystery. Its like "mystery but it's actually completely low-key". I like that. (Im the kind to get into conspiracy theories or get crazy over plot holes, so the show managing this is insane)

Traits like these, especially in contrast to their personality being so so happy, child-like, goofy, charitable, it makes for an extremely interesting and fascinating character, that one doesn't commonly see in media! Which is really awesome! Someone that's seen so much horrors, lived through civil wars, yet tries to help a skeleton get together with a butch lesbian??

Its awesome!

Other that just that alone, he's helped me out personally! He in many ways reminds me of myself as a kid, i too was altruistic, always trying to help, struggled to say no, was positive and happy go-lucky and adventurous (well, as all kids i suppose), recently rediscovering the show made me realise how much i missed those personality traits in myself. That i had hidden them away, due to people making fun of me of being "too naive" and "too childish". Eventually Making me not talk to people really, and develop really bad self esteem. Rediscovering this show, and specifically how these "childish" traits can be seen in a very positive charming light, helped me realise that being scared of "coming off wierd", "coming off as toxic positivity" will always be worse than not being positive.... At all.

Ive heard from other people too that this show has helped them through tough times, and allowed them to reconnect with more positive thought patterns. Which is why i think characters like Wander are insanely important for media!!

Too much is too depressing all the time! We can create media (ESPECIALLY ADULT MEDIA) that isnt depressed. Positivity and happiness are not a crime! And im so glad a character like Wander exists to exhibit that!

[reidmania]

KISS IT BETTER !

miguel o’hara

PLEASE READ AN, ITS VERY IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY

summary: reader has never been good at talking about emotions, always dealing with the guilt and feeling as if a burden so it often leads to pushing people away… but miguel wants to know.

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of depression and depressive episodes, pushing away, self sabotage etc

I HATE the end of this, it was so rushed im so sorry

an/ i want to start a series where i write different characters comforting readers or characters with certain mental illnesses because i know a lot of people don’t get that sort of comfort and recognition and i know theres a lot that isn’t talked about and i really want to bring awareness to it. this touches on a few topics but im happy to write individual works, and they can be about any character.

this

PLEASE if there is anything you want to see written about in this series send me a message and tell me whatever it is, and any certain details you want included. it would be so so deeply appreciated.

the kiss was soft, so soft you wouldn’t have felt it if you weren’t already half awake, despite your eyes being closed. you knew it was miguel, leaving for work.

you could feel the way he lingered in the door way after whispering that he loved you. you could almost sense the worry in his posture, not even having to look at him.

you stay still, eyes closed. it was early, you had no reason to be awake, yet you were. you waited until you heard the front door close to open your eyes and stir in your position on the bed.

you missed miguel, you were asleep when he got home, from late hours, and you were asleep when he left in the morning. you no longer visited him at the HQ like you use to, purely just not having the energy to even leave the bed most days.

it seemed as if every moment, that should shine in golden colours, had been replaced by grey. the days blended together, you couldn’t remember what day it was or what time it was.

you held it well though, the house was always cleaned by the time miguel got home, his food was ready in the fridge, for when he got home. he had no idea about the constant overwhelming fear of day to day life.

you wanted to tell him, but he was dealing with so much as it was, and the last thing you wanted to do was put more pressure on him then necessary. you grew up in a house hold where talking and showing your feelings was seen as weak, and it had just stuck with you.

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust miguel, you did, more then anything. but you didn’t think it was important, of course you had gone through things like this before, you could get through it.

the day went on, eventually you got out of bed, showering, no matter how shit you felt, you’d shower, if it was just you there, you probably wouldn’t but there was that fear that if miguel saw how bad you were effected by this, he would leave.

the house didn’t need to be cleaned, miguel had cleaned his dish when he finished eating. it was late noon, miguel wouldn’t be home till later, but you preferred ered to cook earlier so you could go back to bed and wallow in self deprecation.

halfway through cooking, just basic spaghetti bolognaise, you heard keys, the front door. you furrow your eyebrows, wondering who it could be since miguel wasn’t supposed to be home till later.

until you heard his voice.

“amor, i got off early” he yelled out, you squeeze your eyes shut, as he yells out your name, eventually finding you in the kitchen, body turned to face the stove where you were making the meat.

“baby- it’s early. why are you cooking so early” he asked, walking up to stand next to you. you just shrug, not saying anything. your mind now linking with your stomach, a bubble of anxiety filling it.

“hey- talk to me” miguel said, grabbing your wrist to stop you from mixing, which was just an excuse to avoid the conversation- he knew you.

“wanted to get it done so i could finish cleaning” you mutter, miguel looks around at the already spotless house. “baby- its clean already”

you just shrug, still not looking at him. he turns the stove off. “miguel” you sigh. you were burnt out, completely burnt out, tired of everything lately, waking up, everything being so repetitive.

“talk to me” he says, his tone wasn’t quite begging yet, but wasn’t demanding either. “what am i meant to talk to you about” you run a hand through your hair as you walk away from the stove, leaning against the counter.

“whats going on with you” he says, tilting his head softly, you squint your eyes. “nothing, miguel” you say.

“obviously it’s something, its like i haven’t see you awake in days, you don’t come to the hq, the house has been spotless lately, which is a massive indication of something being up since you only clean when you’re stressed, just talk to me”

you feel anger, but you aren’t angry, youre so insanely tired and drained that everything is just pissing you off. “can you just drop it, oh my gosh” you say, leaning off of the counter to walk away, miguel only follows.

“i just want to help you, baby.”

you audibly groan. “god!! miguel you’re a superhero, you help people who are being attacked or are in danger!”

“i think you are in danger” he says softly. you scoff, miguel doesn’t take it to heart. he knows something is up, and he knows its bad. you aren’t one to yell or get angry like this.

you cant really explain how your feeling besides wanting to smash your head into a brick wall.

“miguel, can you just leave it alone!”

you walk away this time, miguel doesn’t follow. he runs a hand through his hair, beating himself up on the way he approached the situation.

you sigh as you walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, you slide down against it, pulling your knees to your chest, guilt eating you alive at how you reacted.

you hated how your hurt always came out in anger, it was like you had no control over it. this is why you just deal with it alone.

you don’t realise you’re crying until you open your mouth to take a shakey breath, the taste of salt filling your mouth from your tears. you know miguel deserves an explanation, he deserves better.

you want to be better, but you have never been close to anybody like you are with miguel.

its insanely scary, the fear he will leave if he finds out how truely fucked you are.

you didn’t know how to cope with having people close to you, and having people who genuinely care, it had always been a challenge to open to.

you run your hands over your face as you hear a soft knock on the door, “princessa.” miguel says softly, probably the softest you’ve ever heard him talk.

you stay silent on the other side. “you don’t have to talk to me about it, and im sorry i pushed, i just care” miguel said, you could tell he had his head against the door, because of how close his voice was.

“just come out” he says softly. you pause for a moment as you hear the slight crack in his voice, you were shocked that he hadn’t already left, your outburst was embarrassing and you shouldn’t have taken it out on him like that.

you shuffle, miguel hears it, then he hears the click of the lock, he steps back as you open the door.

“im sorry”

“im sorry”

you smile softly as you and miguel talk at the same time, “i am sorry, i shouldn’t take my feelings out on you.” you say softly.

he shakes his head, opening his arms, you shuffle towards him, letting his arms wrap around you tightly. “just want to make sure you’re okay, baby”

you frown, “im sorry-“

“i know baby, ive noticed” he cuts you off, he could sense you didn’t want to talk about everything that was going on, but he wanted you to know he was there.

“im going to have tomorrow off, an us day. lets lay in bed and cuddle all day, do whatever you need to do,” he says.

you look up at him.

“thank you”

“course, cuddles and kisses can almost fix anything” miguel says softly, kissing your forehead.

“not dead, kisses wont fix dead” you say, smiling up at him from his arms.

“yeah, but you aren’t dead, so i can kiss you till youre all better”

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FIVE: FASTENING MYSELF TO YOU WITH A STITCH

↢ chapter four | series masterlist | chapter six ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, self deprecation (are we surprised???) overall fluff

summary: things get heavy with the farmers market making its quick approach — thoughts gnawing away at you and pressure building in your bones. slowly but surely, you’re back at square one, lost in the labyrinth, thinking that the plane was going down. but what happens when Steve comes along in the midst of the storm and mess?

There was a sugary sweet aroma that clouded your apartment — a mixture of freshly chopped fruit that simmered in lemon juice and the overwhelming heaps of sugar and vanilla you mixed together all day.

Racks of fresh baked cookies cooled on a wire rack on the counters while the next batch baked in the oven. You had gone as far as to clearing out most of your fridge space — pre-filled piping bags littering the shelves along with the rest of the precut ingredients you had prepared throughout the week.

Somehow, no amount of planning and prep seemed to matter because you hadn’t anticipated being responsible for a few hundred batches of sweets for Saturday’s Farmers Market. Perhaps you should’ve posed a few more questions and concerns before agreeing on the spot, but you knew you weren’t going to leave Nancy hanging.

She was always so good to you… welcoming, big-hearted, and most of all supportive. Even if she didn’t ask, you would’ve volunteered yourself the second she brought up that she would be hosting the event.

If there was any way you could help, you wouldn’t even think about hesitating.

However, the ache in your limbs and the tiredness in your eyes were speaking a whole nother tune than your heart and mind. You spent the entire week in and out of the grocery store picking up pounds and pounds of flour and sugar — even the sweet lady at the market had run out of fresh eggs to sell you, having already picked up a few dozen days prior.

There were too many baking dishes and itty bitty teaspoons littering the bottom of your kitchen sink.

Recipes that normally took you an hour to bake had tripled with the increasing measurements.

Grocery store runs became more and more frequent with you forgetting to pick up that one very important and vital ingredient.

The menu you had scribbled down on a random piece of paper had been crossed off and rewritten and crossed off again more times than you could count. At this point it was barely legible, the black ink a jumbled mess of your handwriting that only you could understand.

Safe to say you were a mess… literally and figuratively.

There was a tingling feeling in your bones, an impatient restless prickle that flooded your senses in a way that was voicing to you that you were on the verge of a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen if you didn’t step away.

“Fuck this!”  You hissed to yourself sharply.

You reached for the knob, turning it to shut off the heat completely and pulled the bubbling fruit compote away from the burner. The floorboards creaked under your heavy footsteps taking you away from the kitchen and into the living room where you fell against the couch cushions, finally letting your back rest after being on your feet all day.

“It’s gonna be okay… everything is fine, I’m just being dramatic.” You whispered reassuringly to yourself with fanning hands trying to get yourself to cool down. 

But you and your consciousness knew you weren’t fooling anyone… not even yourself.

It wasn’t a foreign feeling at all — you had been here many times before staring up at the ceiling and trying to ground yourself in any shape or form. But it just so happened that you hadn’t felt like this in awhile, maybe because of how busy life had become with your new friendships and the less time you spent worrying. 

You had done your best to keep it at bay, even when it came to your artist’s block, you never let it overwhelm you like this If anything you accepted it and waited it out, but now that you knew someone was counting on you… it just had to come back and bite you in the ass.

“I can’t do this!” You whined dramatically, standing up and snatching the phone off the coffee table, dialing in the numbers and pressing it tightly to your ear.

With every ring you paced back and forth from end to end of your living room. The cord pulled taut with each step you took before it was slack and taut again.

‘Hey this is the Buckley residence, sorry we can’t come to the phone right now… you should probably leave a message and we’ll try to get back to you but no promises!’

You groaned, pinching your eyes shut as you stood in place waiting for the beep to come but you really wished she would have picked it up and sounded off her lovely voice.

“Hey, Robs, it’s me,” you knew she would be concerned right away when she heard this, your usual bubbly greeting gone and instead replaced with dullness.

“I’m having a really shitty day right now and maybe you can give me a call when you get home? Love you and hope to talk soon.”

It never got this bad, to the point where you felt like you couldn’t move from where you were and even if you wanted to, you had no idea how.

The thought of letting someone you cared about down made your stomach twist and turn. You didn’t have many people in your life, let alone genuine friends. But that all changed when you met Robin and soon after her friends became yours.

Nancy trusted you and was counting on you to be there for her — to show up the way for her the same way she did you. And sweet Will was also counting on you, the boy pitched you the idea and you smiled in his face promising him that it wasn’t only great but that you’d be there to help.

You could already imagine the disappointment in their eyes if you had to tell them you weren’t sure you were the right fit just barely two days before the event. It would totally shatter them, maybe not completely, but enough for them to never ask you for anything ever again because you’d only let them down.

Even when you didn’t mean to, it always happened, and here you were about to repeat it all over again. Losing the people who genuinely cared about you the same way you cared about them just because you couldn’t get out of your own head.

All of your life you had believed that everything good and right just ended up breaking, burning, and ending — it was always your fate. 

DING!

“Oh my god!”

You scrambled off the cushions in a haste, the phone toppling over onto the floor as you ran into the kitchen and threw on the oven mitts as quickly as you could. The smell of burning was only faint, the timer you had set on the microwave beeping two more times before shutting up.

You whipped the oven door opened, a big gush of heat enveloping the air whilst you reached in and grabbed the pan. Frantically searching your kitchen for any free space on the already cluttered counters, you made room on the kitchen table, placing it down on a dish towel to prevent it from developing a heat stain.

Much to your surprise, the cookies were not at all burnt: the colorful sprinkles of funfetti still remained vibrant embedded within the vanilla sugar cookies. You wedged the metal spatula underneath, checking and making sure they were perfectly golden, which in fact they were.

“Fuck my life.” You huffed, throwing off the mitt and raking your hands through your scalp.

The pressure was building, the weight on your chest feeling like the whole town was counting on you when you knew deep down they weren’t. The show would still go on with or without you but it just was principal – being inconsiderate or not.

The phone began to ring, muffled sounds from against your living room carpet as it had fallen over in the midst of the haste. It was probably Robin, concerned about the voicemail you left minutes ago.

“Hey sweet—”

“Steve!”

It was supposed to be a greeting of pleasant surprise not expecting him to be on the other line, despite spending the last week non stop on the phone with each other when you both were free. But all Steve heard was panic and distress, your warm and surprised hello replaced with everything opposite of that, making his mind race.

“Woah, hey, did something happen? Are you okay?”

You couldn't spare him from the truth or not, and it didn’t really matter because he’d end up finding out somehow. You sighed, peeking back into the disaster of your kitchen before looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. 

“I… well, kinda, not really, I don’t really know.”

“Do you need me to drive down there? I can come right now.”

There was shuffling in the background, his bed squeaking from getting up from it and the sound of his car keys being swiped off the counters. It had you backtracking as quickly as possible, regretting being so vague and making him worry like this knowing he was so far away.

While the thought of him coming down to see you after a week apart sounded enticing, it would be entirely selfish to let him do so. You weren’t Steve’s responsibility to take care of, no matter how much you felt inside for him and how his presence could put you at ease right about now.

For now, you’d settle for the next best thing: him over the phone. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I mean, I’m sorry…” You squeezed your eyes shut, sniffling a deep breath in, “I just—just was having a really bad day and then I almost burnt the cookies I had in the oven. I’m not hurt, I promise.”

There was a deep sigh at the end of your sentence, the one where he could picture your shoulders falling defeatedly and that terrible frown he hated to see on your face. He could imagine it would be the same sight as when you sat across from him at the diner and felt so horrible about yourself.

If only you were a block away, he’d be at your doorstep in a heartbeat ready to tackle whatever was going on like it was his only duty in the world. To be quite honest he hated the distance between the both of you, like some sort of curse that only you two had to go through.

Way to go for Dustin and Suzies long distance problems.

There was another squeak, his back hitting his bed again before he spoke. “What’s going on?” 

You shook your head, not wanting to dump all of it on him after the day he probably had. “N-nothing. I’m just being dramatic and getting in my head about the farmers market thing.”

There was a migraine already coming to life from the pulse on your temples just thinking about it again. 

“C’mon tell me what’s bothering you.” He pressed, unwavering in his efforts to help you get it off your chest. 

You took another deep breath, falling back onto the couch cushions and this time ready let all the pent up stress go by finally telling someone the truth. 

“I don’t know if I can do it… I mean, I didn’t anticipate for it to be this stressful, you know. Which is stupid of me, I mean what did I think it was gonna be? A walk in the park? I swear, I’m not lazy or anything, I just didn’t realize—”

He cut in before you could even think about finishing that sentence, scoffing incredulously, “Stop it, you don’t have to tell me you’re not lazy because I know you’re not.” 

His voice was soothing and sure, not a hint of uncertainty behind it that made you think otherwise. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your own negativity that you promised yourself you would stop doing but would always have a habit of. 

“Saying it out loud makes me feel like I am.” You attempted to laugh at yourself to lighten the spirits, but Steve let out a disapproving grunt and you almost see the visual of him shaking his head. 

“You’re such a hard worker, I mean, that’s why Nance picked you. She knew you could do this and I do too.”

Even over the phone he never failed to make your heart melt and cheeks blush. Call yourself cheesy or whatever, but he was the greatest pick me up on days like these. 

Staring up at your ceiling you began getting lost in him despite the lack of visuals. “I kid you not, I think I went back to the grocery store like five whole times. My arms are going to be ripped with how many pounds of flour and sugar I’ve been picking up.” 

He chuckled, trying to picture it in his head. Poor you having to lug bags and bag of flour from the store all the way to your car then back home. 

“You know you could’ve called, I would have come down and helped sooner.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re already doing a lot at work and—”

“Cupcake, I categorize tapes. My job is far from stressful.” His tone went stoic, pretending like he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Steve did more than just categorized tapes. He dealt with the horrible and impatient customers, even the rowdy teenagers who kept wandering back to the adult film section. He put up with a whole lot at work — but you were never someone he had to deal with.

A relief of sorts is what you were – someone he’d call or run to with no hesitation because it just felt right. No obligations, no whys or hows,  just because in his bones, you felt like that person for him. 

His almost.

You’re the one he looked forward to calling after a long hard day knowing that you would be able to make him forget all about it. He could lay there in his bed, eyes shut with the phone glued to his ear and you on the other end of it. Maybe it wasn’t the best substitute for sleep, but in his eyes it was the best rest he could ever get if you weren’t here laying beside him like before. 

Still, your apologies never ceased, too concerned for his own wellbeing. “But you’re on your feet all day and you’re really tired and—”

Steve cut you off, stopping your unnecessary yet thoughtful concern for him. 

“And I still would’ve come down even if I was all of those things. You don’t have to worry about bothering me, you know you never do.” He said it sincerely, a happy and eased way about it like there was no other way to explain it. 

“How do you always do that?” You murmured, voice finally settling into a more relaxed mood the longer you spent away from the chaos.  

“Do what?”

You wiggled around, tapping your fingers against the phone, “You know what I need to hear even when I don’t say it outloud.”

Steve had always been great at that and for someone who claimed to never be good with words, he just knew exactly what to say. He’d like to think it was because the kids needed constant advice in their teenage lives and he came to be better at guiding and explaining things to them. 

But you never asked for advice nor did he feel like you ever needed it. Everything that he’d spew to you came from the bottom of his heart, things that he always wanted to tell you without reservation. 

He pretended to think for a second before replying obviously,  “Hmm, maybe it’s because I care about you?” 

“You care about me?” 

His laugh echoed lightly, thinking you were playing around because how could you not know? Your silence answered his question, and he just knew he had to tell you how serious he was. 

“Of course I do!” You could tell he sat back up on his bed, voice a little stronger now as he continued, “I care about you and I can’t stand hearing you talk so badly about yourself when I’m head over—”

A loud ring erupted through the receiver, a second call on the other line completely cutting Steve off as he was about to put it all out on the table. 

“Shit!”  You winced pulling the phone back and rubbing your ear from where it was ringing. 

“What!?” Steve shouted loud enough to hear with the phone still pulled away from you. 

Looking down at the display, the last name ‘BUCKLEY’ illuminated in bright orange. 

“Umm, Robin is calling… I left her a voicemail and she’s probably worried and I—”

Steve let out a breath of relief, sighing out as he settled back on the springs of his bed. “You can put me on hold, it’s okay.”

“O-okay, sorry, just a minute.” You squeaked, switching the line with your brain still processing what he was on the verge of saying. 

“Hey Ro—”

You couldn’t even get the full greeting out before her voice came to you rushed — you could imagine that’s exactly what Steve heard when you picked up his call a few minutes ago. 

“Oh thank god! I thought something bad happened for a second. Are you alright?” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah! Just kinda had a mini breakdown, but I promise that I’m—”

“Do you want me to come down? I can call Steve or Nance and get a ride there.” She offered quickly without hesitation. 

You truly had the best friends in the entire world… how did you manage to get so lucky?

“No! No! I swear I’m okay… it was just some stupid thoughts about the farmers market thing. You know the stress and whatever.” You reassured her, hoping she wasn’t too strung up on it. 

“Are you sure?” She pressed again just for good measure, “I know Steve would drop everything for me and him to come down and help you.” Her voice lifted with a bit of teasing that you caught. 

You smiled self indulgently, happy to know you had people who were willing to come all the way down here to be with you — it showed that they really cared, and even if you didn’t need them to, hearing it outloud warmed your anxious heart. 

“You’re so sweet, Ro…but I swear, I’m okay! Steve actually called me.” 

“He did?” She gasped. 

She wasn’t actually too surprised considering that these days after scoring your number all Steve would talk about was getting home from work to give you a call before you headed to bed. 

The next morning she would be bombarded with him going on and on about the conversation you two had — little things like what you had for dinner, a stray cat you started feeding, entirely mundane yet sappy things that had him hooked because you were the star of those stories. 

Nevertheless she loved hearing about it — a perfect start to her morning, lunch break, and the entire shift of the day before doing a full repeat the next day. 

“Yeah, he’s on the other line right now.” 

A squeal ensued from her end, one that made a smile pop upon your features because her happiness always had its special way of radiating and lifting up everyone around her.

“Oh perfect! Merge the call!”

“Are you sure? I can tell him I’ll call him back later.” You offered, wanting her to know she would always have your full undivided attention. 

“You can merge it! I actually have something important I really want to tell the both of you if it’s okay?” She said making your mind race with a million different things she could be planning to tell you and Steve if it was this important. 

“Of course, give me a sec.” 

You heard her “mhm,” before you switched lines again and this time Steve’s whistling came through the receiver.

“S-sorry, she was checking in.” You cleared your throat, not doing a great job of masking the croak. 

“Was she jumpy?” He joked, knowing she had a habit of doing that all the time. 

“A little,” you snickered, “she wants me to merge the call. Has something important to tell us.”

“Okay, cool, yeah that’s fine. She called out of work today so I didn’t get to talk to her all day.”

Robin calling out of work was a rarity, sure the job was a little boring, but working with her best friend compensated for that. Steve was usually up to date in advance whether she would be calling out or not – so getting to work today and not seeing her was incredibly weird. 

You cleared your throat once more, fingers twirling around the cord as you spoke kindly, not wanting to let what he did for you go unnoticed. But Steve never did things to be thanked for, you knew that for sure, but still, you would cherish him for taking the time out of his day to be there for you. 

“But umm, I really appreciate what you said earlier, y’know… encouraging me and whatnot.” Your voice was soft, filled with a mixture of gratitude and warmth. 

“You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll be your biggest supporter.” Steve responded happily, making sure that it stuck with you. 

Your fingers hovered over the merge button, contemplating your choice of words before you decided to let it go at the last second. “And Steve?” 

“Hmm?”

“I-I care about you too…a lot, just so you know.” 

You said with an oath-like-whisper hearing his breath hitch with a thick swallow. Clearly he was a little taken aback by your sudden leap of boldness that was usually hidden under your bashfulness that he found endearing, nonetheless. Before Steve could say anything else, you clicked the merge button, a quick static ringing through the receiver before it cleared up. 

A joyful Robin came through the other side. “Can you guys hear me, alright?” 

Steve coughed, trying to steady his heart that was pumping faster as he hung onto your words for dear life. He tried to think of something else in the meantime, knowing he needed to at least survive this phone call before he got to pace his room for the rest of the night and replay the words in his head. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Yuppers!” 

You obviously did a better job at trying to seem nonchalant.

Robin squealed, the sounds of her getting comfortable on her couch filling the line before she spoke again. 

“I have some really big major news to spill but—”

“But first tell me why you called out of work, dingus? I had to deal with Keith all alone today!” Steve retorted. 

She scoffed loudly, “God, do you ever shut up and listen, Harrington? It’s a part of my story.” 

“Wait, you called out of work because of this big major news?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah…well actually no! I called out of work for a reason that led up to the big major news.” She informed you both. 

“Oh! Well, whenever you’re ready!” You chirped ready for the news. 

“Okay so remember Vickie?” 

Steve clicked his tongue a few times, “Isn’t she still dating that jerk from Purdue?” 

“Not since last month!” 

“What happened between them?” You wondered, not knowing much about Vickie and her history with Robin. 

There was a heavy sigh before a devastating confession. “He cheated on her.”

“Ouch.” You grimaced, biting down on your lip. 

“What an asshole.” Steve muttered. 

“Exactly! But anyway, we ran into each other this morning at the bus stop and we kinda just hit it off and we spent the day together then she kissed me!” 

You gasped and Steve cursed. The both of you were shocked by not only hearing about poor Vicky’s cheating situation, but on top of all that, the fact that she and Robin had swapped spit after how many months of pining. 

“You blew me off for a girl!?”

“Oh shut up Steve, as if you didn’t do it to me before either!” 

If you weren’t so flabbergasted, you’d make a comment about how the two still fought like siblings even over the phone, but you didn’t, too intrigued and wanting to know more details. 

“Did she initiate the kiss?”

“Yes!” 

“Like a peck kiss or like a full fledged make out kiss?” You pressed.

“I-I don’t know! Maybe a little bit of both? I was just following her lead, okay? Last time I kissed a person was back in sixth grade when Donny Humberford dared me to… it was unpleasant and quite honestly was my awakening that I never liked boys.” 

You giggled as Steve went for his round of questions, the two of you taking turns like it was some sort of interrogation. 

“Well, c’mon tell us, was this kiss at least pleasant.” 

Robin sighed a sigh that sounded straight out of a rom-com, you could picture her kicking back her legs and looking so enamored by just the memory itself. 

“The most pleasant kiss I think I’ll ever get.” She sing-songed cheerfully.

“What about if Phoebe Cates kissed you?” He challenged.  

“Okay, woah, that’s totally unfair! Vickie and Phoebe are both hot babes!”

You jumped in again, this time with a very important question that needed to be answered. “Did you foot do the pop up thing?” 

Stuttered words came from Steve, who had no idea what you were talking about. “The what? Is that some sort of sex thing?” 

Robin snorted. “Ew no!” 

“Steve!” You shrieked, covering your face. 

“What?! You said foot and thing in the same sentence and that makes me think of some really gross stuff that I don’t even think the rated X section has.”

Robin gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth, “You’re totally right! Wait, do you think Keith stole all the foot fetish tapes?” She speculated seriously. 

“What the hell is wrong with your boss?” Your face twisted up in horror. 

“He’s a creep.”

Steve was next with a considerate yet weird warning, “Please, if you ever come to visit us, do not wear opened toed shoes at the store.”

“Jesus Christ, yeah, I’ll make sure I remember that. Anyways, the foot thing!” 

“Oh yeah, the foot thing!” Robins snapped gleefully. 

“Would someone just explain the goddamn foot thing?” Steve complained. 

“You know! When you kiss someone you really really like and your foot does that little pop up thing because you’re enjoying it because it’s with them.” You tried your best to explain. 

“Guys don’t really do it though… they pop something else, if you know what I mean.” Robin cracked with a laugh before Steve choked on his spit at the vulgary. 

The line reduced to chortles, you and Robin dying at the joke, while Steve couldn’t help but smile, waiting for you both to settle. 

“And you want to call me filthy?”  He pointed out when it finally died down. 

“No but seriously, she kissed me out of nowhere and I didn’t get the chance to really even process it and I’m just realizing that and, holy shit! I kissed Vickie!” 

“She actually kissed you first but okay.” Steve corrected, though Robin didn’t seem to catch it. 

“Vickie and I’s lips were pressed together! I felt her mouth on mine! Oh my god! I kissed Vickie!”

It wasn’t long before the call was filled with her squeals and screams, Robin completely forgetting about you and Steve while she remembered it all in her own world. Her heavy panting filled the line then, taking a breather from the screams and her recollection of every detail. 

“Honey, do you wanna process that alone?” You suggested indulgently, hoping she would take you up on the offer because it really was a special moment you wanted her to process. 

Thankfully she didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I gotta go!”

“Bye-bye now, don’t dream too much about it.” Steve sing-songed before she hung up with a heavy clunk. 

The static rings through for a millisecond as she disconnects, before you and Steve are alone once again. Good-natured and proud laughter comes from both of you, so ecstatic for your friend. 

“That’s adorable! I’m so happy for her!” You gushed with a squeal. 

“I should’ve known something was up! She never calls out of work like that and doesn’t give a reason why.”

“I bet you she’s screaming into her pillow right now.” 

“Or she could be pacing her room with her face in a pillow and screaming.” He added as you both agreed that it would be a very possible ‘Robin-thing-to-do.’

Steve seized the moment with a question of his own. “Have you ever done the foot thing?” 

Laughter came out the second he finished the query, you just couldn’t help the fact that he was asking about that all of a sudden – not that you minded, but you just never imagined Steve Harrington asking about a corny foot pop. 

“Now all I can think about is foot fetish.” You fake gagged. 

“You’re so dirty minded! Okay, okay, has your foot ever done the pop thing…that’s better?”

“Much better,” You crooned, thinking for a moment about all the times in which you’ve been kissed with nothing sticking out, “And, no, I don’t think it’s ever happened to me.” 

“Really?” He sounded surprised, as if it was some sort of shock that you’ve never experienced such a thing. 

“The foot pop is, like, totally memorable, trust me.” 

Steve was half regretful of bringing up such a dumb question, hoping it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to remind you of your ex that he already knew you weren’t too fond of. 

“Well who knows? Maybe one day right?” He put it out there into the universe, crossing his fingers that his optimist came through the way he wanted. 

Your small laugh was all it took for him to know everything was just right. “One day.” 

Perhaps it was the hour and the lack of sleep you had been getting for the past couple of days, but you let out a yawn, apologizing in the middle of it as Steve chuckled and told you not to worry about it.  

“I should probably go… I need to get started on the cupcakes and package the cookies up.” You groaned, reality hitting as you looked around your place that was still a complete disaster, and didn’t magically clean itself up. 

“Why don’t you call it a night huh? I’m sure you worked all day.” 

Steve’s voice filled with the same concern as the beginning of the call, still not understanding why you were putting yourself through so much when you were already doing the best you could.  

“Been up and moving since 7 a.m..” You yawned again, rubbing your eyes. 

Steve shook his head, not that you could see him, but he was sure you must have felt his discontent for overworking yourself through the phone. 

“You did so much work, you deserve a break.” He repeated sternly. 

You rubbed your forehead, knowing he was more than right. “Yeah but then that means I’ll still have more work to do tomorrow and—”

“And I’ll come and pick you up and we can bake the rest of the stuff at my place. I’ll help and it’ll be a nice change of scenery for you.” 

Steve was notorious for doing and saying things without using his head, oftentimes leading to horrible and awkward situations. But when it came to you, more times than not, everything he did and said was without thinking of himself and more for the best interest of you. 

He knew you’d been bending over backwards for this event and the last thing he wanted you to do was go at it all alone. Steve knew you were more than capable of doing it all by yourself, but he didn’t want you to – not when he was there willing and able.

“Don’t you have the morning shift tomorrow?” You suspected, having both his and Robin’s schedule memorized by heart. 

“Well Robin owes me so not anymore.” He retorted cheekily. 

Sure, maybe he should have given Robin a break considering kissing Vicky to be an incredible milestone, but if he could survive a shift alone with Keith so could she. Plus, it was for you, so Robin couldn't be too upset if she wanted to. 

“If you’re going to call out I don’t want to make you do more work.” 

“You’re not making me, I want to.” 

He’d do anything when it came to you without even second guessing it. There was something deep down inside of him hoping that you knew and understood that because he needed you to. 

“You’re too good to me.” Your chest rose and fell, a happy breath that was a glimmer of hope to his ears that you knew. 

He took his own breath, glancing over at the alarm clock on his bedside table, “Get some rest and I’ll be over in the morning.” 

“I could drive there if you want? Save you some gas and let you sleep in a bit more.”

“I know you could, but I want to. So please?”

Why Steve was so generous when it came to you, you’d never really understand considering the mess you were. A part of you liked to think that you were the mess he wanted and there was nothing more you wanted to be than his. 

“Y-yeah, sure, thank you.” You stuttered, gripping the phone tightly 

“Get some sleep okay? You deserve it.” He cooed, a smile leaking through his voice that you could see even over the phone. 

“I will.” You promised to smile at the thought of getting to see him so soon. 

“Night sweetheart.”

“Night Stevie.”

Steve shouldn’t like the idea of waking up at the crack of dawn and proceeding to drive to a town an hour away on the one time he called out of work — but when it’s Roane and he’s coming for you, he loved the journey.

He felt more lively than ever even if he had woken up ten minutes before his alarm and ran out of instant coffee to make before he left. All of the little inconveniences didn't matter when he was taking the roads that led straight to you.

There’s a vast difference between the town he grew up in and yours. Hawkins should feel like home, and at times, it really is — his closest friends are there, but then again his parents always come back eventually. And when they do, it feels less than that — like him playing a game of hide and seek trying to avoid them until they go out of town again.

Sometimes there were moments where he just wished that they both packed up their things and relocated permanently so he could stop banking on the moment where they finally woke up and made an attempt to be an actual family — the one he still yearned for even after all of these years of disappointments.

It’s the harsh truth he’s had to face since he was a young teen realizing that they’d always come home, but never for him. A feeling of cruelty that reminded him that no matter how patient he was, his parents would never notice the way they’ve neglected him through the years.

He kept quiet, stayed hidden in plain sight when they were around knowing they could never make up for it — the damage had been done and his home was never going to be home as long as they were around.

But in hindsight, that’s why he enjoyed visiting Roane these days.

He didn’t have to hide or worry about running into one of his father’s friends from the office or his mother’s girlfriends, trying to uphold a conversation with them that he clearly didn’t want to be in. He knew close to nothing about his parents and their whereabouts and didn’t want to unless it was them coming home early and him needing to leave for the next few days.

In Roane there’s no one he’s hiding from… just someone he’s desperate to get to.

But of course an early morning in town isn’t complete without a pit stop at Taylor’s. He’d be damned if he showed up at your doorstep at this hour without a dozen cronuts and your favorite coffee.

He was welcomed with the chime above the door, inhaling the smell of freshly ground coffee and baked breads, a type of homeyness that could never be replicated unless it was coming from your kitchen. 

Like second nature he knew what to get, an order of assorted cronuts, your rose latte with an extra pump of vanilla syrup, and his very plain iced mocha with an extra shot of caffeine to get him through, but he doubted he really needed it when you’d be there beside him the whole day.

“It’s going to be $19.89.” The cashier announced, ringing up the total and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket.

Flipping open his wallet, there was a giddy smile that spilled on his face. The yellow notepad paper folded up and placed within the clear pocket of the billfold, your handwriting reading ‘to: stevie <3’

It’s probably the worst way to store his most prized possession, but the damn thing got him through long work days and even longer ones at the arcade when Max and El begged for $5 to spare — he doesn’t mind them asking if every time he opens his wallet, he’s greeted by something that reminds him of you.

He probably looked like a psycho taking too long to grab a $20 bill with him distracted. Finally sliding the cash across the counter, he waited for his change before tucking it back into his wallet and stuffing the receipt into his pocket and stepping off to the side waiting for the drinks to be done.

“Steven!”

The greeting came from the woman walking through the front door, the chime of the bell above her not at all audible with her voice bellowing within the small space. She wore a big big smile, arms held out wide as she approached him.

He cracked a grin, letting her pull him in as he hugged her warmly. “Dorothea.”

She was just as lively at seven in the morning as she is at ten at night at the diner.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while. You two haven’t stopped seeing each other already have you?” She lifted a weary brow, voice laced with a bit of teasing. 

Steve shook his head, shyly smiling at her insinuation of what you two had going on. “I’ve just been working a lot, these days. I’m going to see her right now, just came by to pick up some breakfast for us.” He gestured towards the counter of packaged goodies. 

“Aren’t you such a gentleman? You know if I could clone ya, I would!” She pinched his cheek playfully.

God, she reminded him of his great grandmother he hadn’t seen since he was seven.

“That’s uh…very sweet of you. Thank you.” Steve smiled sincerely, hoping he didn’t look too strained. 

She gripped onto his arm, squeezing as she smiled from ear to ear. “Well tell her I said hello! She hasn’t been to the diner in a while, must be locked up in her apartment painting or something.”

“That and baking.” Steve replied with a proud grin. “She’s in charge of a booth at the Hawkins market tomorrow.”

“No kidding?” She tilted her head, strikingly, always amazed at the amount of things you were able to juggle. 

“You should come, she’ll be happy to see some familiar faces around.” He extended the invite warmly, cursing himself for not having a flyer on hand to give her in case. 

“Order for Steve.”  

He gave her another smile, “Hope we see you there,”

“I’ll try my best, pumpkin! You two enjoy your breakfast, now.”

And he was off, back on track to his destination with the goods secured knowing it would make your morning better even if you were not so much an early bird. It’s little things like this that he knew he could do to make your day a little less stressful especially since he anticipated plenty of baking for the next few hours.

But he hoped with his presence you’d find it in yourself to not put so much pressure on yourself. He was there for a reason, wanted to give you a hand and take some of it off your plate so that you could relax a bit.

Sure, he didn’t really know much about baking, but he was willing to learn for you.

The drive to your place was short, not too far away from the cafe. Your apartment complex was tucked away from the main parts of town, hidden just a few miles away from Taylor’s and the diner.

It was a quiet yet cozy neighborhood, everything about it screamed your name. 

Flowers of all kinds littered the boulevard, bright yellows and pinks peeking out through the tall green grass and dancing in the sun, accompanied with a light breeze of air as he drove by.

Stray kittens and puppies roamed the sidewalk like community pets, nuzzling up against the ankles of children who walked hand in hand with their parents and siblings towards the bus stop for school.

Tall oak trees that had been standing for years lined the sidewalks housing birds and their babies on branches where they also got the best view of the sunrise at their peaks.

Elderly couples mingled with others, dressed in their cozy morning attire and some still in their pajamas hoping to get some exercise in the summer nice weather that would soon be replaced with autumn.

Quite frankly this place held everything and more that Steve wanted for his life. The atmosphere filled with some sort of magic potion that had him wanting to stay forever if it meant that he got to walk these same sidewalks and drive down the same roads with you by his side.

It was stupid and far-fetched idea considering the circumstances he was in, but he’d still like to think that someday this would be the place he called home. Somewhere where he didn’t have to just watch happy people living their lives with the ones they loved, but where he could be doing the same too.

“Here we are.” Steve whistled, turning his wheel into the complex a few blocks away from the main homes.

He was glad you lived on the ground floor, not because it would save him time to take all the items into yours, but because your place greeted him through the windshield every time he pulled up and placed his car into park next to yours.

Your front porch, while not having much space, was still decorated with everything that made you, you.

Fresh herbs planted in a small basin that sat on the railing of the entrance and a trellis of green vines resting against the wall beside your front door. There was a welcome mat placed at the doorstep along with a pair of gardening boots that were too big your size, an attempt to scare off potential burglars who want to mess with a hypothetical giant with a size 10 foot — Steve laughed like a maniac when you told him about that.

He shut the car off, reaching for the coffees and juggling the box in one hand as he shut the door with his hip and approached your front door steps.

Setting down his drink, he brought his fists up to the door knocking firmly. “Sweetheart, it’s me!”

He waited, listening to hear your voice call out for him followed by your footsteps thudding against the wooden floors as you ran towards the door, but all he heard was silence. Not even the sound of music playing through your record player or the morning news on your television.

Just pure silence.

He frowned, knocking again this time a little louder. “You in there? It’s Steve.”

Still no answer. 

He pressed his ear to the door, complete silence, not even a peep of water running from the shower which confirmed his suspicion that you were still very much asleep. Though he wasn’t surprised, you were probably in bed sleeping soundly after all the work you did yesterday. 

Steve set the items down on the porch, looking around the area until his eyes landed on the pot tucked away in the corner  — it was a fake succulent where you planted a spare key. He tried to tell you how unsafe it was to keep a key out there in the open but you claimed no one would try to pluck a key out of a creepily real looking cactus.

Smart girl you were. 

“Gotcha.” He smirked, plucking the key away from the bottom of the pot and approaching the door with it in hand. 

“I’m coming in, cupcake.” Steve called out one last time with a knock. A warning, hopeful that you finally had woken up but to no avail there was still silence.

He sighed, sticking the key into the lock and turning it open and carefully pushing the door in not wanting to startle you. But alas, he didn’t think that it was even possible when you were cramped up on the couch sleeping soundly. 

“Oh, christ.” He said under his breath, quietly stopping in his tracks. 

You had a blanket partially pulled over yourself keeping you warm enough to bear the entire night. Your hair was sprawled out across the cushions, strands resting along your cheeks. You slept like a baby, curled up in an awkward yet comfortable position. 

Steve quickly picked up the coffees and baked goods, shutting the door as quietly as possible as he toed off his shoes and rested the items onto the coffee table.

He looked towards the kitchen, finally aware of the sheer magnitude of work you had been doing. Sure it was a bit of a mess, but he was relieved a bit to know that you got some rest like he suggested. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly, bending at the couch where he shook your shoulders gently.

You only stirred, keening as you nuzzled yourself deeper into the cushions, eyes pinching tighter to stay asleep. He felt terrible for having to be the one to wake you up, but it had to be done. 

“Honey, it’s almost seven… you gotta get up.” He spoke a tad louder, brushing back your hair out of your face until you pressed your cheek to his hand, gluing it there so he couldn’t move. 

“Hmmm, no it’s not.” You argued sleepily with your eyes still closed, licking your lips as you remained comfortable. 

You were cute even at this early hour and he would have loved to let you stay in bed but he knew it would throw off your entire game plan and have you rushing more than you already were. 

“C’mon doll,” He shook you again, this time with enough firmness to get your eyes pinching and peaking open. 

He gave you a small smile, mouthing ‘good morning,’ as you stared blankly at him, not a single thought behind your tired eyes other than it had to have been a dream that felt too real. 

“I had to use the key to get in… you fell asleep out here last night.” His voice was faint, not wanting to rudely pour all this information on you so early in the morning.

Clear confusion accompanied the tiredness, just starting to really wake up and fathom that Steve was hovering above you and it wasn’t a trick your brain was playing on you.. 

“W-what?” You yawned, shutting your eyes again and giving them a rub. 

“It’s 7 in the morning, sweet thing. You overslept a little.” His thumb moved up to caress the skin under your eyes, soothing your harsh rubbing. 

You moaned out an objection, shaking your head against his hand, “No, I didn’t.” 

He laughed, shaking his head at your positivity before finally pulling his hand from your cheek to lift his sleeve and hover the watch over your face.

 “Look, honey.”

It took you a second, eyes still clouded with fatigue as you squinted up at the hands of the clock. Slowly you began to process it, the short hand pointing sharply at the 7 and the mere fact that Steve was in fact before your eyes with the purest look of fondness despite the hour. 

“Holy shit!” Your eyes widened, pushing the blankets off yourself in a haste and sitting up. 

“It’s okay—”

Your eyes darted to him, frowning deeply, torn between embarrassment and stupidity for having him wait out there for god knows how long. 

“I swear I set a timer for fifteen minutes,” you huffed, pointing towards the coffee table for the stupid kitchen timer that he proceeded to pick up and shake. 

“I was supposed to take out the trash and pack up the cookies.” You explained, watching as he sat it back down and gave you a reassuring shake of his head, unbothered by the situation. 

“It’s okay, maybe you just didn’t hear it.” He tried, hoping you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt instead of beating yourself up.  

You took a deep breath, offering a tight smile as you patted the space next to you and gathered the blankets over your shoulders. He took a seat, getting comfortable beside you, watching how you closed the space until your knees were knocking against each other. 

“I’m really so sorry… were you waiting long?” You glanced over to him.  

He shook his head, reaching over to brush your hair over your shoulder. “Nope, I just got here. Thought I told you to rest up last night?”

“You did,” You said guilty, watching his hand drop back down to his lap, “Buuut I just wanted to get a few more things done and I was supposed to have a power nap then clean the place up.”

You combed your fingers through the roots of your head, resting your elbows on your knees as you realized the mess was still very much there and Steve had to be here to witness the catastrophe.

Just as quickly as his hand dropped to his lap, it came back out to rest over your knee, fingers rubbing assuringly as he gave you a sequence of squeezes to get you looking at him again. 

 “S’okay, you needed it.” He assured you, his touches never ceasing as his chin poked out towards the coffee table. “I got you some coffee and your favorite.”

Sure enough there was a box of piping hot cronuts filling your apartment with their decadence, and a cup of your favorite morning drink rested right beside his half finished one. 

Steve’s generosity was something you never thought you could get used to, but by now you should’ve known that he always went above and beyond… at least for you. 

“You didn’t have to.” You whispered thankfully, closing your eyes as you tilted your head onto his shoulder.  

He slotted closer to you, keeping his thumbs rubbing your skin in random patterns as you felt him shake his head against yours, simply murmuring, “I wanted to,” in the quiet space. 

For once, in the last few days that you spent in the haze of stress and anxiety, today felt like the calmest morning you had all week. Despite you nearly burning your apartment down and falling asleep in the living room in less than 24 hours, with Steve here, it seemed like he brought some sort of magical potion that had you thinking everything was going to be okay. 

It was difficult for your heart to swell and get tight in the confines of your chest when you realized that peace could be this. The two of you spending mornings like this, even when you were the farthest thing from peace – maybe it was him who could give it to you. 

The two of you sat around for a few minutes in complete silence, just enjoying each other's presence for what it was worth right now. Something about it felt domesticated in the best way possible, knowing the simplest things in life like this were free. 

“I’m gonna go shower really quick.” You announced, slowly pulling away from his side and stretching your arms out.  

He retracted his hand from your skin, being the first to stand up, “I’ll put your coffee in the fridge for now.” Steve headed towards the kitchen with your drink in hand. 

Your feet continued across the floors padding towards your bedroom, bed still freshly made having not slept on it the night before. Sure your back should have been aching from sleeping on the less than suitable couch, but you got the rest you needed and that’s what mattered.

You pulled open your closet, settling for a loose dress to sport instead of jeans knowing they’d probably be covered in flour and sugar by the end of the day. You pulled your towel from the hanger on your door and walked across the hall towards the bathroom.

Catching a glance at yourself in the mirror, you looked exhausted — the clear fatigue that had been building up over the last couple of days settled and ended up with the after effects of the burnout showing on your skin. A cold shower was what you needed, icy water cascading your body, doing its very best to wake you up and rid you of the exhaustion. 

You didn’t keep Steve waiting long, out of the shower in less than fifteen minutes and by then you could hear the slight clambering of dishes coming from the kitchen. 

“Have you eaten yet?” You shouted loud enough to hear, combing your fingers through your semi-damp ends.

More clambering came through the door, before you heard a loud dramatically loud scoff, “Without you? Of course not!” 

You grinned in the mirror, rolling your eyes at his quick wit before finally shutting off the lights and heading down the hallway to see what he was up to. 

Once you got him in sight, his hands were drying the dishes in the rack and there was no longer the clutter of the dirty ones in the sink. He stacked the mixing bowls on top of one another before noticing your presence lingering behind him. 

“I took out the trash and did some dishes. Didn’t want to get started without you.” He hung the damp towel over the oven handle before gesturing over to the empty trash can that was once overflowing.

“Steve, you’re a guest.” You chastised, going around the kitchen to pick up the small bits of trash that stuck around.  

“A considerate one at the least.” He shrugged his shoulders, following you around like a lost puppy and offering his hand out to take the remnants of the garbage from you to toss into the bin himself. 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, moving around him to throw it in trash, before he grunted out a snicker. 

“C’mon let’s sit down and eat before we get going.” 

He had already brought some plates out, moving next to the drawers to grab some utensils. For whatever reason, warmth bloomed in your heart, happy to see that Steve was just as comfortable in your home as you were in his. Simplicity in him knowing where things were was a sort of happiness you couldn’t explain. 

You bit your lip, walking over to the fridge to open it before looking over your shoulder. “Did you want me to make some more food?”

He shook his head, opening the box of cronuts and fishing two out for the both of you. “I’m okay, but I could whip up some scrambled eggs for you?”

He looked up from the sweets, seeing you nod your head with a desperate look on your face as you held your stomach. Last night you hadn’t eaten much so you really needed to make up for it by having a hearty meal to set you up for the rest of the day's work. 

“Coming right up.” He drummed his fingers off the dining table, as you switched places. 

The kitchen was soundly, not much with chatter this early in the morning, but with the sizzling from the pan as Steve poured in the eggy mixture and the soft buzz of the toaster oven where you warmed up the  cronuts. It wasn’t like the morning at Steve’s where you waltzed around the kitchen — it was much slower, yet filled with the same amount of domesticity. 

Steve could tell you were still tired, the grogginess seeping slowly out of your bones the more you sipped on your coffee and tapped your toes against the tiles watching the oven closely. You weren’t trying to hide it from him on purpose, but he noticed that with every small yawn you let out, you turned away from him, trying to brush it off with a headshake. 

He didn’t put a spotlight on it though, just happily smiling to himself as he stirred the eggs and watched you in his peripheral vision. The high pitched ding rang through the small space and you sighed contently, slipping on the oven mitt and reaching for a pair of tongs to grab the pastries, plating them nicely on two plates.

“You can start eating if you want.” He insisted, turning his head to follow you when you skimmed past him 

You hummed disapprovingly, setting them on the coffee table before making your way back to him,“No, come on I’ll wait for you. Let me wash the–”

He lunged over, getting in the way of you turning on the faucet, “Stop it, you’re gonna overwork yourself.”

You huffed at the absurdity of the situation, seeing as though he was the one who was already overworking himself and it was barely 8 in the morning. 

“I’ve barely done anything all morning.” You argued with a light laugh, attempting to get past his arms and switch the water on. 

Still he stood his ground, not letting your pushing move him with your nudges, “Considering the amount of work you did last night, you shouldn't be doing anything right now.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest tilting your head at him. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?” 

He shook his head, pointing back at the living room with the spatula still in hand. “Not a chance! Now go sit down, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Fine!” You drawled, heavily stomping your foot down and turning on your heel back to the living room. 

Steve’s eyes never left yours, even when his back was turned to you, he could feel you attempting to tidy up your living room in the slightest way, to which he simply bellowed, “sit and relax,” before you were shuffling back into the couch cushions, mumbling how he had eyes on the back of his head like a mother would to which he laughed. 

The kids would certainly agree. 

After a few minutes, you heard the burner shut off, and his footsteps walking over to you.

“Breakfast is served.” he announced, setting the eggs in front of you.

“You’re an angel.” You looked at him, grinning as he handed you a fork from where it was hiding behind his back. 

“I’m flattered.” He took a seat beside you and picked up his plate, “So tell me what’s the plan for today.”

You took a bite out of your eggs, chewing and swallowing them down. “Yesterday I made the frosting for the cupcakes so today we’re gonna make them and ice them.”

“What flavor?”

“Maple and Raspberry.”

His face twisted, lips curled up before he spoke, “I’ve never heard of that combination before.”

“No silly,” You covered your mouth from giggling, “The maple frosting is for the brown sugar cupcakes and the raspberry frosting is for the hibiscus cupcakes, but they also do have a little bit of raspberry in them.”

His bottom lip jutted out over his top one, nodding at your correction, before he lifted a playful brow at you. “But can’t you tell I trust you so much that I thought Maple and Raspberry would be good together?”

Steve trusted you more than he trusted himself which said a lot considering that he was usually pretty set and stone with the way he did things in his own life. After all, his parents didn't play a big role in his so he had to figure out a lot of it by himself. But when it came to you, trust came easy knowing you wouldn’t drop his hand if you told him you wouldn’t. That was the territory between you both, promising and keeping your word – never letting the other fall. 

“If we have any extras maybe we can test it out.” You suggested with a nudge of your elbow into his arm as the two you both smiled and continued to eat.

“How was work yesterday? I didn’t get the chance to ask you over the phone.” You shifted your knees towards him. 

His face covered with mock horror, while you playfully gasped, watching him set his plate down.“Hell. I honestly think it was the most grueling eight hours of my life.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.” You tried to reason with disbelief in your voice, because really, how bad could it have been? 

“Being forced to work a shift with Keith is literal hell. I mean for one he could not shut up and for someone who claims they love movies, he just kept talking over all of the stupid tapes I put on to try to shut him out.” Steve rolled his eyes at the recollection, so thrilled that he wasn’t stuck in the same predicament today. 

“And isn’t Robin working with him today?” You stifled your laughter, for your dear friend who was probably dealing with Keith all by herself right now. 

There was a devious smirk replacing his distaste for yesterday realizing he had planned it accordingly without realizing.

 “Yep, but she’s got a half day so technically she’s only spending half a day in hell with him.”

“You’re horribly considerate for someone who was upset that she called out for a girl.”

Steve shrugged nonchalantly, knowing he couldn’t be too upset at Robin. After all, she was his best friend and sure he was pissed for having to work with Keith, but he was happy that she finally got to spend time with Vicky, the same girl she had been pining over since forever. 

“Had I known it was for Vicky I would’ve called out too and came down here to help out sooner, but I thought she caught the flu or something.” He turned his nose up, happier that his best friend didn’t catch anything bad except the love bug. 

Your face contorted with irritation at yourself, waving your hand in the air, “Trust me when I say you’d be glad you skipped out on the mess yesterday.” 

He didn’t skip a beat, shaking his head at you being ridiculous because he’d never miss out a chance to be with you.

 “I wouldn’t have minded anyway.” 

While his words were true, and you definitely believed that he wouldn’t have minded considering he cleaned up the place while you were showering, you felt a little hopeless knowing he was picking up the pieces when he didn’t have to. 

“You know I still feel a little bad that you’re spending your day off helping me bake.” You placed the plate onto the table, letting your shoulders sulk deeper with your hands twiddling in your lap. 

“Why?” He lifted his brows, genuinely confused at why you would feel bad for him where there was nowhere else he’d rather be.  

You gave him a small shrug, looking up at him with uncertainty. “Because you should be doing something you want to do or better yet resting in bed preferably.”

He hated when you tried to look out for him more than yourself, immediately taking your nervous fingers away from your lap and holding them in his. You stared at him, holding on tight and wondering what was going to come out of his mouth. 

“I am doing something I want to do with the person I prefer to be with right now.” 

There was a twinge of vulnerability in his tone and you could see the way it painted his features whole. How you could tell, he was telling the truth about wanting to be here with you and not just doing it because he felt obligated to. 

Your heart was seriously going to break itself out of your chest soon. 

“You’re gonna regret saying that once I turn your kitchen into a disaster.” You joked, squeezing his hand in yours and not letting go. 

He pursed his lips, shaking your comment off, preparing for the said disaster in his kitchen as long as you were going to be there. Becoming a deadweight with his hand in yours, you easily pulled his arm up, neck adjusting to get the time on his watch. 

“If I’m planning it out in my head correctly then we should be done by this afternoon and that way you can drop me off before traffic hits and I’ll drive down tomorrow morn—”

“Pack a bag and spend the night.”

“Huh?”

“Just stay the night at mine that way you won’t need to drive down so early for the farmers market.” He explained like you should’ve known it was the plan all along. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as you called out his name in faux exasperation.

“Steveeeee.”

“What?” He pursed his lips slyly, pulling you by the shoulders to get you looking at him again, “you’ll get to spend a few extra minutes in bed and you’ll be saving gas. Basically killing two birds with one stone.”

“But I don’t want to be stuck in your hair the entire day.” You protested. 

His brows lifted suspiciously as his lips twitched up trying to resist the grin, “Woah, you plan on gluing yourself to me or something? Cause if you are, I don’t know if I could forgive you for messing up my mane.”

“You’re impossible,” You nudge his shoulder with a weak fist failing to hide your smile, “I don’t want to be a burden. What if you have plans?”

“I do have plans, silly.” He began, reaching for your hand and rubbing his thumbs across your open palms, “and all of them involve you.”

“You know you’re making this very hard for me to decline.” You attempted to harden your features, but to no avail the smile crept through. 

He patted your knee with a victorious look on his face. “Good. We can spend the day baking and prepping then we can sit back and relax. Maybe go out by the pool and sunbathe… Oh! And I got a new tape so we can watch it before bed or something.”

“Sounds tempting.” You fizzled through your teeth, squinting your eyes decisively. 

“That means it’s working and you should say yes.” He whispered, like a voice of reason. 

“Okay.”

“Great, now go pack a bag.” He patted your leg, one, two, three times before standing up and gathering your empty plates in a stack.

“Will you do me a favor while I do that?” You stood, trailing behind him into the kitchen where he was placing the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, I’ll wash the dishes—”

“No, not that!” You laughed, gesturing him towards the counters where a rack of cookies sat alongside other crafty materials. “I need you to package the cookies in little plastic baggies and tie them off with ribbon.”

“I can definitely do that, too.” 

“I got a few done last night but fell asleep before I could finish.” You picked an example up, showing it to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, I can do the rest.” He took the baggie from your hands, ushering you away with a shoo of his hands. 

You thanked him before heading back into your bedroom quickly grabbing the canvas bag that hung above your door as you sifted through your drawers and closet for some clothes.

You picked out a floral dress for tomorrow's event, and settled for an extra set of intimates — you packed an oversized tee and some jeans in case but you knew Steve would let you borrow some of his if you needed and he still had your pair of overalls that he hadn’t given back yet.

“Do I double knot them?” Steve called out.

“Yeah and you can snip the ends to make them even!” 

“Got it, thanks!”

You slung the bag over your shoulder, drawing the curtains and unplugging your lamp just in case since you’d be gone for the night… maybe even the entire weekend. The only thing left to pack was your skincare products, throwing them in a small pouch and making a mental note to set them on the bathroom counter when you got to his to prevent any from leaking out onto your clothes.

Steve finished off tying the last baggie of cookies, bunny earring them and snipping off little bits of the ends to try to make them look as cute as your sample did.

“What do you think?” He held his work of art up as he heard your footsteps coming closer. 

You grinned, holding your hands out before he plopped it into your palm while you inspected it. 

“They’re adorable!” You giggled, smoothing the frayed edges of the cut ribbon.

“Are you trying to be nice? You can tell me if they look bad.” He pouted, attempting to take it back from you to redo the bow knowing you took pride in anything that was yours. 

You shook your head, keeping it towards your chest and away from him. “No, I’m serious! They look so cute, thank you for doing them.” 

His cheek was met with a quick kiss, before you brushed past him putting down your things on the living floor before sauntering back into the kitchen with a mission to get everything ready to go. 

“Y-you’re welcome,” He coughed out, kindly covering the crack in his voice with a sweet smile before he turned to watch you, “Anything else I can do?”

“Stop being so nice.” You poked out your tongue, beginning to pack the cookies into a brown bag for easier transportation. 

He huffed, helping you without being asked, “Now that would turn me into Mike and I don’t think you’d want that.”

“Do you have some vendetta against him or something?” You questioned, hands hitting his with every grab and toss. 

“Oh we all do” He snorted, swiftly sweeping the bag away from you, before pulling the keys out of his pocket.

“I’ll go put your stuff in my car.”

He proceeded to grab the rest of your belongings, lugging the bag you packed and the other stuff to his car all in one go. You triple checked all the appliances making sure everything was unplugged and turned off before you began drawing all the curtains to completely dim the place for the next couple of days. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yep, just gonna grab the paintings.” You nodded, pointing to the small crate full of finished canvas that you would be selling at the market. 

He didn’t let you even try, immediately beating you the distance and grabbing the box, holding it on his hip as he held the front door open for you. Sticking by your side as he watched you lock up, being your second eyes and even pulling on the handle for an extra precautionary measure. 

The air conditioning had been running, thankfully cooling down the vehicle as you buckled in and watched from the rear view mirror while Steve closed the trunk shut and rounded his way into his seat and did the same. 

“Why don’t you close your eyes until we get to my place?” He suggested, glancing over to you while turning on the radio trying to find a station you would enjoy. 

A dramatic gasp left your lips as you slapped down his visor, opening the mirror to check yourself out. “Wow, do I look that tired?” You half joked, placing your hands on your cheeks in horror. 

“Stop, that’s not what I meant,” He chuckled, reaching over to flip it back into place with a tight regretful smile, “What I meant to say was you didn’t get much sleep last night and it could help a little bit to just close your eyes before doing more work today.”

“But I feel bad, you’ll probably be so bored in complete silence.”

He wondered if you always worried about him this much and while it was cute, he’d have to tell you to stop eventually, because worrying would do you no good, especially if it was about him. 

“You know, you’re gonna need to stop feeling bad for me all the time.” He lectured, tilting his head at you. 

“I can’t help it when you’re stuck with me.”

“Will you please just try to nap at least?” His voice was more optimistic and you nodded skeptically.  

“Fine, but you have to wake me up if you get bored.”

“Deal. Here, this’ll be more comfy.”  He said, leaning across the console and reaching for the lever to lean your chair back all the way for max comfortability. You covered your face, laughing behind them as you wiggled and got comfier in the seat.

“Comfier?” He brought his hands back to the wheel, watching as you nodded your head with closed eyes. 

“Way better than my couch.” You mumbled, positioning yourself towards him, still getting snug in the confines of his car.

He pulled up the emergency break, beginning the journey with one last look at you. “I’ll wake you up when we get there, sweetheart.”

Steve knew you were a natural in the kitchen — ran that place like it was your second home, but what he didn’t anticipate was how you worked when it came to strictly baking. Perhaps him suggesting the nap on the drive to his place was a great idea considering the fact that you were wide awake and running on that coffee he picked up.

He could barely keep up, straying behind to wherever you would go — oven, pantry, fridge, sink, repeat. It was endearing and far from something that Steve would categorize as chaos, in his eyes this was your comfort, somewhere it all just came to you naturally, which also included dishing out tasks, ones that Steve was happy to take up. 

His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, brows scrunching towards the center of his forehead while his hands squeezed the piping bag and wrists swirled it slowly around the tops of the cupcakes.

You bent at the hips, looking through the glass window of the oven checking up on the loaves that had been baking, making sure they were rising properly. Standing up straight, you dusted your hands sneaking up behind Steve to catch a glimpse from over his shoulders.

“You’re doing great!” You whispered cheerfully, not wanting to throw him off his focus.

His shoulders only bumped as he chuckled, head tilting abruptly to the side before finishing off the swirl and setting the piping bag down.

“It’s a little crooked don’t you think?” Steve frowned, picking up the treat and holding it out in front of him.

You shook your head, rubbing his shoulders, “They’re perfect and you’re a complete pro already.”

“Okay now that’s a reach.” He placed it down, turning to you with an unconvinced yet charming grin. 

You tucked your cheek into your shoulder, shrugging, “What? I’m being serious! I messed up like a whole dozen cupcakes before I ever got good and here you are only three in and they’re gorgeous.”

“You’re really making me consider switching careers to part time cupcake piper you know that?”

“I’ll hire you on the spot.”

“Geez, offer a man some insurance first.”

Your face twisted apologetically before spreading with a self indulgently smile, “Probably can’t do that, but I can assure you I know how to properly dress a cut if you end up slicing your hand open!” You chirped sweetly, tapping his cheek with an affectionate pat chuckling against your touch.

The ding of the timer set off, prompting you to turn around and make your way back to the oven, slipping on the mits. A gush of hot air enveloped you as you took out the hot loafs, setting them on the stove. Quickly you shut the door, tossing off the mits as you inspected them with your eyes first. 

“How do they look?” Steve asked, coming beside you as you poked the tip of a knife through the center checking if it was baked all the way through.

A quick second to examine the knife to ensure there was no residue was all it took before you nodded, “Wonderful, but they’ll look even better once I glaze them.”

“What do you need?” He rose his brows heading over to the cabinets ready to get whatever you needed. 

Likewise you went towards the fridge, “Powdered sugar and preferably whole milk — ah ha! Whole milk it is.” you clicked your tongue, peeking past the door to see him looking through the tins and bags.

He cursed under his breath, closing the door a bit to meet your eyes. “I don’t think I’ve got any powdered sugar in here. I should've asked you last night if you needed anything before.”

You shook your head, turning back towards the fridge, “That’s okay, we can go to the store together later?” You suggested going to put the milk back. 

He snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “Better idea, why don’t you go now and I’ll stay back and finish frosting up these cupcakes, hmm?”

“I could wait for you, I don’t need to frost them right away.”

“You need a break, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, here,” He paused, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing behind him into the living room, “Take my car and let me give you some cash.”

“Steve, I don’t need your money.” You countered with a light chuckle, taking the keys from him as he reached into his pocket shaking his head.

“No seriously, take it and get whatever you need. I feel like shit for not asking before and making sure I had all the ingredients.”

He truly felt horrible and you could tell in the way he scrunched his brows and shook his head more at himself than towards you. The last thing he wanted was to fuck up your whole process that he knew you always took the time to run through effortlessly. 

“You’re already doing enough, you know.” You remind him with a tender rub to his shoulder, “It means a lot…you talking to me over the phone, bringing breakfast over this morning, and taking all the way here to make sure I wasn’t lonely.”

It was a true sentiment that you spoke and meant every word of. You were sure that no amount of baked goods or thank yous would ever be enough to show Steve how grateful you were.

“I wanted to, you’ve done so much for everyone, me especially.” He knew you went out of your way for everyone including himself, putting everyone first except you. 

“Well, I wanted to.” You assured him. 

“In that case, I want you to take this and get whatever we need. Please?” He placed the bills in the palm of your hand, smiling when you nodded and palmed it. 

“Do you want anything specific? I think I’m just gonna pick up a bag of powdered sugar and a small thing of white chocolate chips for the scones.” You picked up your purse you had thrown onto the coffee table where you arrived.

He shook his head, walking you to the front door and pulling it open, waiting as you slipped back on your footwear. “I’m alright, I don’t need anything. Just drive safely and don’t be scared to use the horn if you need it.”

You let out a laugh, tiptoeing and placing a kiss on his cheek, “I will and don’t stress about the cupcakes, they already look perfect.”

As you buckled your seatbelt and adjusted the mirrors, you took one more look out the windshield, waving a “see you in a bit,” to the boy watching from the driveway. It was funny to think that the first time you’d been there, you had been sitting in your own car anticipating the entire moment of meeting everyone and now you were there in his car knowing you’d be back in no time. 

Hawkins wasn’t new territory to you. You have frequented the place for years, but it was just a little funny that throughout all the years, these roads never led you to Steve, and all your friends for that matter, until now.

The grocery store you walked into was the same one where you met Robin and from there the rest was history. Funny enough, you hadn’t been there since that interaction — it felt like forever but at the same time it had only been a matter of weeks. Time was silly thing, and it just so happened that all the fates aligned in some magical way.

You strolled through the aisles with a small basket in hand, picking up the necessities while also checking out what they had in stock this time of year. It was in the produce section that you ran into the sweetest lady in town, Joyce, who was seemingly glaring at the tower of apples debating on which ones to pick.

“Granny Smiths, Fuji, and Galas are the go-to if you’re gonna use them for baking, but if not then any will do, just make sure none of them have noticeable dents.” 

You snuck up beside her, stifling your laughter as she jumped for the initial scare, then again, but with a smile on her face when she realized that it was you.

“Honey! Oh my god, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She quickly engulfed you in a hug, before you finally greeted her properly.

“Are you here with Steve?” She asked, looking around to see if he was nearby.

You shook your head, checking out the pile of apples and picking some for you and him as a snack.. “No, he’s actually back at his place frosting cupcakes for tomorrow.”

An impressed smile was plastered on her face, her cheeks lifting with a cheeky blush, “He’s just the best huh?” she teased, as you giggled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Who’s the best?”

The deep voice bellowed a few feet behind you, prompting you to look over your shoulder, and down came Hopper sporting a surprising pale pastel button up, lugging two boxes of Coca-Cola. He gave you a pointed look, something that silently said, “please don’t comment on my non-work attire,” to which you honored, obviously.

“Hey Hop,” You waved, reaching out to give him a small hug after he placed the drinks into the cart. He patted your arm, before letting his drape over your shoulder as you laughed and let him be.

“We were talking about Steve,” Joyce started, “He’s back at home helping her out with the bake sale for tomorrow.”

He peered down on you with a stern nod, “Well isn’t that great. Drove down here yourself? Car not giving you any issue right?”

He really was a dad right down to his core. If you told him how you’ve been avoiding driving your car for the past couple of days, he would probably suggest he go check it out then and there.

“Oh no, Steve actually picked me up this morning and let me take his car to come here for some stuff we needed.”

“He let you drive his car?” He questioned, taken aback and clearly so as he dropped his arm and propped it up on his hip.

“I know, crazy right. He has a lot of trust in me.” You coughed up a laugh, while Joyce piped in something about how she thought it was sweet of him to do.

“Says a lot considering he never even lets me take her for a spin.” He shook his head, dramatically clicking his tongue at all the times he had failed to get the keys to the Harrington vehicle. 

Joyce groaned, tilting her head at him.“That’s because you’re a forty year old man that drives like a drunk sixteen year old on prom night.”

“Ouch!” He shouted, face coated in fake hurt as she brushed him off.

Turning her attention back to you when you asked, “Will I be seeing you guys tomorrow?”

She smiled brightly, clapping her hands towards herself, “Oh of course! I’m helping Karen run her book exchange booths.”

“And I am acting as security.” Hop announced, plucking an apple and taking a bite out of it.

“Just you? Where’s the rest of your unit?” You pestered him jokingly.

He only shrugged, mouth full of half chewed up apples as he replied.“I have no idea, but the event will need some securing.”

“Honey, it’s a farmers market. I don't think there’s anything to be securing.” Joyce reasoned.

“We’ll see about that.” He shot back with no harm.

Their bickering was always light hearted and fun, something you could appreciate because it was the laughter that always kept the relationship lively. And in any relationship for that matter, laughter was like the heartbeat to it all, something so witty, but essential — you wondered if you and Steve sounded like that from time to time.

You took a deep breath, smiling as you opened your arms, and reached over to give Joyce a farewell hug. 

“Well I should get going, I don’t want to be gone too long.”

“Of course, tell Steve we said hello and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Will do!” You said, pulling away, and doing the same to Hopper.

“Bye kid.” He patted your head before letting you go your separate way.

The drive back home was as pleasant as the drive over, just lacking in company. You didn’t think that you’d get used to driving Steve's car without him being there in the passenger, but still, it was a thoughtful offer and it did give yourself some time to clear your head of all the stress that you endured yesterday though much of it was already gone since you woke up this morning. 

You placed it in park when you got into his driveway, grabbing all the grocery bags in one go before you exited the car and made sure it was locked up. The front door was surprisingly unlocked, meaning Steve hadn’t moved since you left. You’d lecture him about leaving the door unlocked when there were freshly frosted cupcakes that burglars would most definitely take first.

“Steve, I’m back!” You called out, toeing off your sandals at the foyer before you made your way into the living room dropping his keys back onto the coffee table.

“Still in the kitchen!”

You lugged the bags along, lifting them in the air as you walked through the doorway.

“I know you told me you didn’t want anything but I ended up grabbing a bag of tangerines and I was thinking we could make some drinks for when we go out to the — oh my god!”

They fell with a heavy clunk to the ground and thank goodness there wasn’t any glass in there, but the poor apples would definitely be bruised. Steve turned his head over his shoulder, quickly shutting off the water as you stared at the loaves sitting on a raised plate as the excess icing dripped off the sides.

“Sur-prise?” He cracked a nervous smile, wiping his hands dry, hoping to receive the right reaction from you.

“You iced the loaves?!”

If your tone came sharper than you meant, he didn’t notice it and neither did you. Steve was too busy watching the surprise wash over your features — the way your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

He leaned against the counters, still watching you until your eyes finally met his. Picking up the index card you had brought from home, and walking over to the pantry, pulling out a now empty bag of powdered sugar, and placing them on the counter.

“I may or may not have lied about the powdered sugar but yeah, I read the recipe card and followed it to the tee.”

He paused, opening a drawer to retrieve a spoon, scooping up a little of the excess that dripped into a bowl before handing it over to you, “Here, give it a taste, please.”

You could tell he was nervous, eyes leaking anticipation while he held it out, his hands nearly shaking. It was cute that he got so nervous, like you could ever be mad at him for trying his hand at something so thoughtful of him to do. So you took the spoon, sticking it into your mouth before you promptly hummed around it, nodding your head at him with wide eyes that should’ve been enough to tell him he did great. 

“Fuck did I mess it up?” He spoke with an uneasy feeling, swiping his finger into the bowl and grabbing a sample to taste, pressing his lips together to try to decipher if something was terribly wrong. 

You shook your head hastily, removing the spoon from your mouth before twirling it in the air, “No you nailed it, like absolutely nailed it!”

Still even with your assurance, he seemed to doubt himself, picking up the bowl for himself, moving it around to test the consistency of the frosting. He held it out towards you, tipping it back and forth. 

“It’s not too runny? I think I added more than a capful of milk.”

Instead of trying to ease his worries with words, you simply rounded the corner, taking the bowl away from him so all he could focus on was you. It was cute that now you could see what Steve meant when he said you go into your head all too much — maybe he was right when he said self-doubt would get you nowhere but a headache. 

“You did perfect,” You began, dusting off the powdered sugar off his t-shirt, looking up at him with a grin, “not too runny, not too thick. Just right.”

It was enough to stop him in his tracks, ironing the worries away in the same way he did yours more often than not. The hand on his chest didn’t leave, when the words stopped, in fact you kept it there, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt without really thinking much of it, while Steve tried to keep his composure and heart in his chest.

“S-so what did you buy?” He deterred his sights, looking towards the floor where the groceries still sat.

You squinted, hand stopping its movements, as you flashed him a sneaky smile shaking your head before slightly digging your fingers into the dough of his chest. 

“No, we’re not just gonna skim over that whole thing…you lied to me!” You shrilled. 

And like that, the kitchen erupted with laughter, Steve failing to keep up the innocent act, and you beyond astounded that you fell for it. He held his hands up in defense as playfully pushed him away, even stepping back as he tried to move closer, just to be theatrical. 

“Okay technically I didn’t lie lie!” He countered with his hands waving in the air. You crossed your arms over your chest, raising a brow at him,  “I thought I didn’t have enough of it but after you left, I measured it out and like the recipe said, a half cup sugar for each of the loaves and I just so happen to have one cup.”

He was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met: not a chance you could be upset even if it was just pretend. 

Steve had already done so much for you in less than 24 hours. From dealing with your anxiety over the phone, to driving all the way to you, and then on top of that trying to take the stress off your plate.

There was a pinch between your brow, beginning to grow deeper and your lip caught between your teeth. The longer you didn’t say anything, the more Steve caught the tell-tale signs of your guilt knowing you hated that he was doing so much and you finally got a break you deserved. 

He was just as quick to reassure you, stepping forward and testing the waters to see if you’d close the space and to which you did, pouting up at him with an adorable frown until your chest met his in a hug. 

You could feel him smile against your head, hands wrapped around your body as he tightened the hold tenderly, “I wanted to do it. You needed a break.” He murmured into your hair as you chuckled into the fabric of his shirt. 

It felt routine by now, and you didn’t need to thank him verbally when he gave you a nod as soon as he pulled away and saw the sincere look upon your face. The way he was able to read you like an open book felt personal, the only kind of way that you wanted to be read by him. Ins and outs of you already memorized so carefully with little to no room to question if he was right or not.

You didn’t want him to question anything, especially not you.

Taking a deep breath, you shakily let it out, slowly pulling away from each other until you looked over the counters and to the ground. 

“Tangerines.” You called out, moving across the tiles.

“Huh?” 

“I picked up some tangerines at the grocery store.”

You handed him the netted bag of fruits that he easily ripped open and let them spill over the table top, “They’re in season?” He pursed his lips, inspecting the fruit carefully. 

You nodded, reaching out for the remnants of its packaging, smoothing it out to show him the label, “They’re from Long Beach, California.”

It piqued his interest, looking over at you like you’d know the answer to his curiosity, “Do you think they grow on Sunrise Boulevard?”

You giggled, shrugging your shoulders while you unloaded the rest of the items. “Probably. I’ve never been so I don’t know for sure.”

“We should go someday.”

He extended the invitation as if you, a paycheck to paycheck living individual, could ever afford a trip like that in a heartbeat. But it was the fact that he extended it in the first place that had your insides twisting and turning like a lovesick fool.

We. The possibility of you two going together. And he said it as sweetly as it sounded, honey dripping from his lips, with a smile oh so beautiful that you could really believe that maybe you two could go together one day — even if the rest of your friends tagged along.

As long as he was there with you there was always the possibility of we. 

Steve often transported you back to middle school, the days where you caught yourself kicking your feet and blushing like an idiot over a boy who said all the right things. The only difference is Steve didn’t let you crash and burn on the ground. With him, things feel different.

“We should.” You said, lifting your hanging head, not caring anymore about hiding the red flush of your cheeks.

“Good.” He smiled with a nod that he was more so giving himself, his brain spitting out all of the celebratory phrases it could think of after seeing the double vision of your rose blush. 

For once, the both of you seem to be a bit braver in your endeavors, holding the intimate eye contact in the silence of birds chirping from outside the flung windows and the whistle of the wind. If you two were a cartoon animation, your hearts would have been jumping out of your chests, and interlocking hands by now.

His eyes didn’t stare blankly at you, and yours certainly didn’t shoot dangers through him. It was as if you both were swimming in each other, taking one another in without a single word spoken because none needed to be said.

You both knew it and you both could hear it in the silence.

“Why don’t we go for a swim, yeah? Call it a day with the baking and just… just spend some time?”

Together he wanted to say. Something that should’ve slipped freely but instead died in his throat, too scared to let you know what spending time together really meant to him, between the both of you, actually. 

“I’d love that.”

You kicked Steve out of the kitchen, claiming that he could at least let you finish up the cleaning after he had lied to you about the powdered sugar. You could hear him from the stairs, still arguing that it wasn’t really a lie, making you shake your head and snort while you wiped down the counters.

He emerged as you finished washing the sticky icing bowl, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks with two towels under his arm. You were sure, he caught you staring for a second, before kicking you out the kitchen to go get changed while he made you both drinks and skimmed the pool for dead leaves and critters.

Getting changed in the confines of his bedroom felt like the first time you had been there all over again. Only this time you weren’t a stranger and he’s not waiting on the other side of the door for you to be done. 

This time you’re a piece of his life and he’s waiting for you.

Slipping into your swimwear, you caught a glimpse of yourself in his mirror. It had occurred to you that this was the first time you would be as bare as you would be in front of him. Sure you weren’t a prude or anything, but you always felt a bit shy, and your feelings for Steve didn’t make it any better.

Not wanting to leave him waiting for so long, you plucked a random shirt from his dresser and threw it over yourself before jogging down the stairs and out the sliding door where he stood with the pool stick in hand, grabbing whatever that was floating on the surface.

“I’m back,” You made your presence known, moving beside him to see the small pile of leaves he gathered on the side of the pool.

Your nose turned up at the little critters that crawled away into the grass, before Steve whistled and pointed to the shaded umbrella, “M’almost done over here, I put your drink over there.” 

The pool loungers had been tugged under the shade with towels laid out over the cushions and a variety of snacks sitting along inside the drinks. 

“I just juiced some of the tangerines and stirred it with some tequila and margarita mix I had left. If it’s too strong, I can add more juice or make you another.”

You thanked him, walking over to take a seat and sip on the drink while you waited for Steve to finish the pool maintenance. A lot of his home was taken care of by him, and you could understand why if his parents weren’t home too often – it forced him to take up everything and keep everything in order. 

You wondered why Steve never gave himself the credit he deserved. Only in his early twenties already taking on what most people in their late twenties still had a hard time getting a grove with. Yet he made it look flawless with little to no complaints about his situation and how this responsibility might have been too much for him. 

But deep down in the pit of your stomach, you wondered if this place was really his home or a home he was looking after until he found his. It wasn’t entirely the same situation as yours, hell, you got out the moment freedom striked. 

Steve had everything: enough money to pay for rent at a decent apartment nearby, all the life skills in the world, and himself — you just wondered why he was staying. 

“How is it?” He called out, back facing you from the other side of the backyard where he stuffed the pool scopper back into the shed. 

Your hand raised above your forehead blocking the sun as he walked towards you, the other picked up his drink handing it to him when he sat on the end of your lounger, thankfully blocking the remnants of rays for you. 

You watched him take a sip, nodding his head at himself before looking over to you for your opinion.

“Good! Not too strong actually, I think the tangerine juice is great.” You bubbled, taking another sip of yours before placing it back on the table with a clink. 

He hummed through his drink, before setting it down and taking a look at you. You had made more space for him on the lounger despite him having his own only a few feet away. Your legs tucked under yourself, and arms came to wrap around your midsection, attempting to hide from his gaze despite his t-shirt that was already drowning you.  

You were naturally sheepish, and he knew that but he hoped you weren’t doing this just because he suggested it. The last thing he wanted was to force you into doing something you didn’t want to be doing. Hell, the both of you could be inside sitting in silence, and Steve would be happy, long as you were there. 

“You know, we don’t have to swim if you don’t want to. We could just sit out here and talk, whatever you want okay? Whatever is comfortable—”

“No, no, I’m fine! I—I’m just a little shy, that’s all.” You shook your head, attempting to relax your tense muscles, untucking your legs from underneath you.

He grinned, nodding slowly, as his fingers grazed the sleeve of his shirt on your body. “That's okay, nothing wrong with that,” he assured you, meeting your eyes with a impish glint, “nice shirt by the way.”

“Thanks… for letting me borrow it, I mean.” 

You looked down at the graphic, finally aware that it was an Eagles t-shirt, that unbeknownst to you was one of his favorites and only worn during special sports occasions. However he decided in his mind that anytime you wanted to wear the garment, it was a special occasion in itself. He wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

“Always.” He grinned, looking down into his lap, not wanting to frighten you with his ceaseless content. 

The heat of Indiana wasn’t as fierce as it had been for the past summer and you hoped it would stick around, at least until tomorrow so you all could survive a pleasant farmers market afternoon. For now, you’d enjoy whatever mercy the season would have on the town with no complaints, especially when there was a mansion with a view sitting right beside you. 

“Wanna get in?” You snapped out of your thoughts, eyes following his movements as he asked you and took another sip.  

You sat up, legs extending over his as you looked out at the aquamarine reflection of the water. “Uh, yeah, do you have any sunblock, by any chance?”

He clicked his tongue, tapping his fingers against your shins. “Shit, yeah, sorry I totally forgot. I think the kids used up the last bottle but I have the spray kind, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” You nodded, lifting your legs and letting him slide away. 

He walked through the sliding door again, and you could hear the slight rustle of him looking through cabinets and cursing at himself that the kids must have misplaced it. With him still busy you took a deep breath, tugging the shirt off your body and smoothing your fingers over your skin. 

You had nothing to be insecure about, not when it came to Steve's eyes. He’d seen you stripped down with your emotions – sadness, insecurity, exhaustion and everything in between. Him seeing you in a bathing suit was far less intimidating than it seemed.  

“Sorry, I think Dustin must’ve knocked the cap off or something but it still sprays and… oh, h-hey.”

The sunblock slipped from his hands, poorly failing to juggle back into his grip in time before it clanked against the concrete. You didn’t give him an answer, simply lifting your brow before you choked out a fit of laughter, hunching over yourself to grab your tummy.

Steve didn’t mean to be such a man, but just a split second ago, you were covered up in his t-shirt which alone made his head spin, and now, he was seeing skin that had never been exposed before and he felt like he might pass out and knock his head into the concrete. Perhaps it would have been a terribly gruesome way to go out, but at least you were the last thing he got to look at before he went. 

“I—I’m sorry!” He stuttered, turning away sharply as his throat bopped with a swallow, “I didn’t mean to say that, it kinda just slipped out. Feel free to totally hit or slap me right now, because that was super duper weird of me and—”

You stood up, prompting him to seal his lips as his eyes slowly turned to watch you pick up the sunscreen, beginning to spray the formula onto your arms, working it into your skin.

You looked up at him through your lashes, washing away his embarrassment as he saw you shake your head.“It’s fine, really. I don’t think it was weird, at all… just super duper funny.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, still looking apologetic in his features.“I feel like an idiot,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly. 

You tilted your head at him, wiggling the bottle in the air. “You can make up for it by getting my back for me?”

He took it from your hands, watching as you spun around and pulled your hair away. “You sure?” 

You hummed, “Positive, unless you’re gonna say ‘hi’ to my behind too.” You joked, turning over your shoulder to see him scoff a laugh before spraying you down.

He was careful, asking permission before his hands even touched your skin, and then again when he had to work the product under the straps of the suit. His fingertips are light and gentle, and at the same time meticulous, making sure not to miss a spot and let a single sliver of your skin get burned by the sun.

“Want me to get yours too?” You suggested, spinning back around when his hands finally dropped from you.

“Only if you want to.”

“Spin, Harrington.” You twirled your finger in the air, grasping the sunblock and getting to work.

It was different, feeling your touch without a layer of clothing in the way. Sure, you’ve both slept in the same bed, practically in each other's arms with him shirtless, and you two definitely touched each other in the softest way that no one else did. But your touch right now was suffocating, eating him whole as he tried to breathe through it and tell himself that you were too good for him. 

“You have a million beauty marks.” You murmured, breath fanning over his neck making him go dizzy. 

He swallowed, turning over his shoulder to watch you rub the product over his shoulder blades, your fingers working mindfully under his gaze. 

“B-beauty marks? Moles, you mean?”

You met his eyes, shaking your head with the softest look upon your face. “I prefer to call them beauty marks.” 

“That’s cute.” He whispered as a reply.

“Yours are too.” You complimented, feeling him exhale soothingly while your hands worked the rest of the skin, ending it off by tapping your fingers against the beauty marks, “all done.” 

You twisted the bottle shut, tossing it on the lounger for later when you two would have to reapply. Turning towards him you ran your hands up and down your arms, waiting for what was next. 

“Are you a strong swimmer?” He lifted his brows, watching you think. 

You blinked, thinking  of all the rare moments you’ve ever been in a body of water there in the midwest. “J-just a little. Why?” 

“Don’t want you to drown.” He said, a smirk growing on his face. 

You shook your head, not understanding what he was getting at. 

“Why would I— Steve!”

 A squeal ripped through your throat, as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, carefully walking you both over to the edge of the pool where hid your face in his chest expecting a gush of water without warning. He couldn’t help but chuckled, adjusting your higher with a small toss until you wrapped your arms around his neck securely. 

“You ready?” He bellowed out into the air with a hoot, cradling your head gently for extra measure.

“Whenever you are.” You pinched your eyes shut, tucking yourself more into him as if that would make it less worse. 

And like that, cold water engulfed your body all at once. Even in the big splash, Steve’s arms never left your body, keeping himself glued to you as you both came up to the surface and your hands brushed your hair away from your face. 

“I got you,” Steve laughed, shaking the water away from his face and never daring to let his arms leave your body.  

“It’s so cold!” You whimpered, immediately wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling yourself closer to his body where your jaw trembled against his collarbone. 

He could feel you shaking in his arms, taking a bit longer to adjust to the coolness given the fact that you hadn’t been to a pool in ages. His hands ran up and down you back, pausing in between passes to knead your skin. 

“You’ll warm up soon,” He guaranteed, kissing the side of your head before resting his chin on top of yours, the two of you fastened together with a stitch until your shivering fizzled out. 

Usually Steve’s pool was filled with the bustle and shouts of children, water splashing everywhere and him standing on the sidelines with his hands on his hips, reminding the kids not to run on the wet pavement. 

Though today it might have been the most peaceful it’s ever been. 

Turns out, you’re not the best swimmer after all these years with little to no access to any pool or beaches, but you are one hell of a floater, giggling as Steve waded the water beside you, mimicking waves and moving you along the expanse. 

You two attempted to race, doing laps back and forth, but you gave up a few seconds in, elbows resting on the concrete as you watched each stride he took against the water until he was back to you. Rubbing his eyes, he caught his breath and looked at you in disbelief. 

“You beat me?!”

“By a long shot.” You joked, before he playfully rolled his eyes and swam closer to you. 

His hands sneaking underwater reaching out to grip your thighs and throw them over his hips where you quickly held on tight as we took you both to the center of the expanse. There was little to no room between you both anymore, the personal space bubble had popped long ago and now it was a shared out that sheathed the both of you. 

Steve didn’t think he could let you go, even if he tried. 

With your backs beneath the sun, everything felt right. Clearing the air, you breathed in the mix of chlorine and each other. The only sounds were the whistle of the wind, the swoosh of the water around you, and your harbored inhales and exhales. 

It was all consuming in the best way possible. 

For Steve, the city he had lived in his entire life felt as cruel as the loves in his past. And there were a lot of loves: platonic and romantic, yet nothing felt entirely like this – not even close. There was always a flaw, a blemish in time that made the past never work out the way he had hoped, but there was a gut wrenching realization that ever since he saw you, there was no need to look back at those shortcomings. 

He was quieter than usually, eyes studying you without even realizing it, still you didn’t shrink under his view. You followed his sights, watching as his orbs moved from a part of your face to the next, taking you in like an art piece, memorizing every detail like his life depended on it. 

And for a moment a wave of realization washed over you. The way you were in Steve’s arms, the way he was looking at you, the way you looked at him — friends didn’t do the things you both did, especially when your other friends were around. 

Steve was just your friend when he gave you a long-sleeve to borrow, drove down to your art gallery, talked you through your worst moments, offered you a bed to sleep in, slept with you in said bed.

But maybe you and Steve were never destined for the whole friendship thing. You both had crossed so many lines unforgiven, and there was no way either of you could deny the truth by saying goodbye.  

You had to step into it and let go. 

You swallowed, arms tightening around his neck while your chest rose with a deep puff. Only then did he snap out of the haze, blinking slowly until he shook his head and snapped his eyes to yours silently apologizing to which you brushed off with a half-hearted smile. 

“You know, some beauty marks have meaning.” You revealed, hushed tone just loud enough for him to catch against the breeze. 

His breath hitched, tips of his fingers caressing your spine, tracing it up and down absentmindley like second nature.“Y-yeah?”

You nodded, eyes meeting him, almost pleading for him to let you. “Can I tell you about them?”

“Please do.”

His grip on you was tight enough to allow you to let go, letting your arms float freely in the water, before thumbing the marks on his skin delicately.

“You’ve got a bunch of tiny ones by your eyes,” You whispered, carefully swiping over them with your thumbs, “these ones mean that you’re hard working, which you are.” You said obviously. 

He’d be willing to work harder to make whatever this was permanent. To wake up from the dark night he’d been sleeping through since he could remember. He’d do it all, if it meant getting to wake up to you, everyday… to wake up and be yours, it was that simple. 

Your thumb moved down to the double freckles on his cheek, murmuring, “Sensitive.”

“Like a cry baby?” He questioned, still full of jokes despite the inner monologue that was eating his entire being up. 

You breathed through your laugh, holding his face still as you clarified. “Like someone in touch with their emotions.” 

Steve never had the best upbringing, you knew that, and while your understanding of the whole picture was very little, you knew that he didn’t let that define him. He didn’t treat his past as an excuse to be horrible to other people, in fact it made him better. Softer in his approach to situations that he did his best to guide instead of control.  

Honesty was the freckle on his chin. Steve never tried to prove himself to be a good person, worthy of something greater than the things he was given, even when he was. He had trusted the wrong people in the past, did and said things he was never proud of, but he didn’t ever pretend like those moments didn’t happen. 

His reputation, the one that should've scared you away and prevented you from getting to know the real him, was in your eyes, the most delicate thing about him. He didn’t try to put up a perfect facade for you, but he did prove that he threw out all the bad, every cloak that hid his true colors and daggers that fought every truth — he threw them out, not to become someone new, but to finally be him. 

How you wished you could’ve been brave enough to say it all because you wanted him to so desperately know. 

And how Steve wished he could dive into your mind and swim through your thoughts as you stared at him with complete tenderness. Something he didn’t think he could ever get used to because what about him could possibly make you go slack-jawed? He didn’t know what you saw him, but quite frankly he’d listen if you’d tell him. He’d listen to anything you had to say. 

“Any other ones?” His grips moved down to your waist squeezing gently and seeking the connection in the midst of your silence. 

You hummed, giving him a soft smile before he reciprocated it, visibly enchanted by your ability to get lost in him the way he got lost in you. 

“You’ve got a special one right here,” You let your fingers brush over his cupid's bow, caressing the spot back and forth. 

His eyebrows jutted up curiously, breath fanning over your thumb as he spoke. “Special, huh? You’ve gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”

He pulled you in just a little closer, your chest bumping into his and your foreheads just inches apart, and like that, you were a little more brave with nothing left to be scared of. Your hands cradled his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on yours with every word that left your mouth because you wanted him to understand, to see himself the way you saw him. 

“Empathy. The world lacks it, but somehow you’re full of it.” Your words flowed with conviction as does the admiration that sparkled in your eyes. 

“H-how?” His voice broke, as if he could barely believe that he had an ounce of it within him. 

You rolled your shoulders back, determined to get him to see it in himself. “Well for starters, you’re a great listener. Always listening to me ramble about dumb stuff and—”

“Nothing you say is dumb.” Steve said sincerely, fingers caressing your back warmly against the coolness of the water. 

“See, you’re also good at reassuring me.” You grinned, teasing him because he proved himself wrong. 

He rolled his eyes comically as you went on. “And you always try your best to understand me, even when I’m a mess and nothing makes sense. You try and you put yourself in my shoes to try to understand.”

“I always want to understand you.” He murmured, eyes staring into yours with fondness that was difficult to not shy away from, but you forced yourself to bear it. 

“I know, and that’s why you’re such a good person, Steve.” You smiled, rubbing your thumbs along his cheekbones following his structure. 

Steve Harrington was quite possibly the best person you’d ever get the honor of knowing the way that you did. You truly wanted to share him with the world, to give everyone a look at the finest person who was everything and more jumbled up into one being, but at the same time you wanted to be selfish, to keep him to yourself because no one deserved him, sometimes you felt like you didn’t either.

You just got lucky. 

“I hate not knowing what you’re feeling.” He admitted, swallowing thickly, remembering all those times he had to poke and prod in order to get down to the root of your sadness. 

You nodded understandingly, hating how closed off you were in the past. “Sometimes I’m too scared to say it outloud.”

You wanted to be more like Steve, not wanting to be defined by the things that you hate, the things that you were afraid of, or the things that haunted you in the middle of the night. You wanted to throw out your sword and live in peace just being defined for what you loved… the people you loved.  

“Why?”

Your eyes met his curious ones with reluctance, nerves kicking into gear more than ever because you knew what saying the truth meant.  

“B-because, I don’t want to mess things up.” You said, nervously massaging the back of his neck with gentle touches hoping he couldn’t feel them shake. 

All this time you thought it was black and white. Too scared to let the past go because of the years you had put into them, and too scared to move forward because you didn’t want a repeat. The extremes that held you back, believing that failing once meant failing forever — all of that meant nothing anymore. 

All you could see in your mind was you and Steve intertwined, all of the bad that you had thought up was put behind you and you never wanted to look away from him. 

“You couldn’t mess anything up, not between us.” He said firmly, one hand loosening from your body to grab at your elbow, bringing it back to his cheek where he wanted you to feel him. 

All this time he thought it was burning red. Chaos and dramatics without ever solving anything. The highest of highs and lowest of lows, a dangerous path that never led him anywhere except heartache and pain. The treacherous journey that was always destined for failure — he didn’t feel that anymore. 

All he could see in his head was him sneaking back and forth from your town with you in his bed, and nothing would ever be the same. 

“Are you sure?” Yours eyes locked, his washing away any lingering feelings of doubt with a simple nod. 

You saw the thick swallow and bop of his throat while his hands traveled to your jaw, holding you there. “I’m positive because I’ve been feeling too.” 

And like that you both were wide awake.  

“S-say it please,” Steve pleaded running his thumbs over the bottom of your lip wanted to feel it so he knew it was real. 

“I-I could show you instead.” You murmured, taking his wrist in your hand, feeling the thumb of his pulse. 

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, feeling you breathe against him like a lifeline reaching out.

“Please.”

Finally you both were letting it go, stepping into it together because what you had was golden, like daylight.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: happy new year everyone!!! I’ve missed you all so much and I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long — I took a break from posting as avidly in order to prioritize letting myself rest up and enjoy my break. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and a big thank you to my love, Effie, for helping me proofread this and always giving me the best advice ever!!! I can’t wait for you all to read the next chapter!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[liquidstar]

i think that on here we've kinda talked a lot about how the traditional "coming out" narrative presented in popculture is flawed in reality. because it always presents this idea that you have to tell everyone who you Really are, that youre Hiding parts of yourself, that you can never be You until you bare your Secrets to the world. and that actually this isnt because people feel entitled to your personal business but that its hurting YOU when they dont know your personal business so you should really just tell them. (but also dont be "too" proud because thats annoying :( act mostly cishet please but dont lie about it! hehe!) it will work out every time for sure :)

but ofc thats not how real life works. i mean, naturally i understand that there are OF COURSE people out there who want to be loud and proud about who they are, and that this is incredibly important to their identity which theyve suppressed for so long. but that "coming out" narrative is harmful because it ignores many of the reasons it had to be suppressed to begin with. its fucking dangerous! its dangerous to a lot of people for a lot of reasons. they can lose their support system, family, job, house, and their entire life. both in the sense that they'll be completely uprooted from it, and in the sense that they could be killed. so constantly presenting the notion of "coming out is good for you no matter what because its the Only way to be your Real Authentic Self and also you HAVE to do it eventually because thats how this narrative is just Meant to go. be a good little queer and please dont stray from this path."

and the problem is that plenty of young LGBT+ people completely internalize it too! ive had so many convos with young people worried about coming out to their conservative family because, well, theyre supposed to! and their minds are completely blown when i tell them that actually they dont have to do that. that theyre under no obligation to tell everyone their business and its okay to just keep being them w/o making an announcement about it. ESPECIALLY IF IT PUTS THEM IN DANGER!!!! and to be clear this issue doesnt stop at age 18 or at moving out or anything like that either, there continue to be many obstacles for many people that make coming out unsafe, or just a bad life decision to uproot everything Right Now. it's okay to just be in the closet and it isn't a moral failing like cishet media wants to convince us. we all agree, right?

good! but here's what my actual real point is:

when we talk about this, for some reason, we seem to only reaaaallly be talking about the gay side of it, right? like im sure lots of people imagined, like, teenage gay boy movies. maybe a couple lesbian and bi characters too perhaps. and that makes sense because thats like the most common narrative for this sort of trope, so ofc those are the first examples we imagine. and ofc theres the more complex addition of "passing" when it comes to trans versions of this story, the idea that you gotta look a certain way to be "valid" adds another layer.

so i think its time more people started to acknowledge this about trans people too, right? i think we can all agree with this on paper already; no trans person is obligated to come out or present a certain way if theyre not in a place where they currently are able to do so. physically, mentally, financially... or just because they dont wanna! whatever the circumstances are, there is no criteria they have to meet to be vindicated in this. it doesnt only apply to 14 year olds living with shitty parents who plan to move out soon and become "Really Trans" (as if they didnt count before conforming to The Narrative), the person could be 40 and never planning to be completely out, and its the same. they dont owe you this "showing the world who you Really are in order to [earn the right to] Be Yourself" crap. thats their choice only.

however, i also think that even if most ppl on here in lgbt circles on here agree with the general sentiment... sometimes it doesnt always get applied it practice. though the whole "truscum" thing kinda died down (thank god) i still think that rampant transmedicalism has left its scars on lots of people and the things they internalize, combined with similar cisheteronormative messages in popular media about how your narrative Should go and how you Should act and look to be respected, and its Morally Wrong not to fit that mold.

so when encountered with people who dont pass, who dont TRY to pass and instead actively choose to look like their agab due to the fact that they are literally in the closet irl (lest we forget people have whole entire complex lives outside of the net) this sort of short circuit happens in ppls heads, where that internalized idea of "but you're supposed to be THIS WAY! youre not doing it RIGHT!" pops back up and they end up labeling that person as fake or Not Trans Enough for this reason.

and i do also think part of this stems from people not having enough sympathy for those whose paths are different, because they were told not to. theres a Right way, and they did it the right way. and likely they struggled for it a lot, so isnt it unfair that people are doing it the Easy Way (as if its easy to be closeted to begin with) and claiming theyre like you? thats Wrong. they have to Earn it. you lgbts should all get mad at EACH OTHER actually! this will help your community be better [in the eyes of cishetero society that doesnt really want you to exist to begin with]

additionally the reason im emphasizing the internet side of this so much is because... well, in this day and age, thats the space lots of people go to to NOT be in the closet. to at least microdose on being "out" while in real life they very much arent. like i said before, being in the closet is rough and taxing, suppressing yourself hurts which is why so many people wanna be loud and out and proud! not everyone can though, so turning to a place with relative anonymity to get that is great, and i think its probably saved a lot of people. but also because of this, its pretty much the only way to get the scenario this is positing to begin with- where you know a stranger can know that youre trans even if youre otherwise closeted completely, just so they can tell you that youre Not. but how many people in the past do you think lived lives where they never let these feelings out at all? how many alive today do you think dont even express them online?

you know that sort trope (often stereotypes in media) of a trans person "crossdressing" only when alone, in order to get a short bit of relief or euphoria that they cant in their closed life? i think that today we have the internet to do that. i think its kind of the same thing. but its also very different, because its not as private. its still secret, because its anonymous, but its also something shared with plenty of strangers at the same time. they dont know you irl, so its safe, distant, and gives you that rush of being yourself, and being referred to correctly by others too. theres community, theres support, and theres friendship too, once you get to know those strangers. its not a "second life" or a "persona" is just a side of yourself you dont show elsewhere, an identity that needs to be let out one way or another.

who the fuck are we to deny others the right to this life-saving connection just because they arent out? because they dont pass or dress the Right way irl? because we decided they arent trying hard enough to "fit in"? because they dont plan to change their lives to fit the right narrative anytime soon?

should they not be allowed into the community then? that would be perfect wouldnt it? leave many who need support out to die, because they did it Wrong. fight within our community over who is doing it Right until we've broken it in half. the righteous ones [according to cishet standards] are surely going to be treated with respect once they get rid of the Bad ones, right?

yeah, i dont think so. thats horseshit. we're stronger together than we are apart, thats why infighting is so useful to those who dont want us to be strong to begin with. its important to help each other, boost each other up, even if some of us arent playing the "right" part irl. are we really just going to sit around and accept the cishet norms as rules to live by? fuck that. not everyones story will reflect it, and you have to accept them anyway if you want a strong community. it doesnt matter how much they might look/act like their agab irl, if theyre telling you otherwise take it at face value, respect them the way you would any other. again, many of us agree with this on paper, but i think we still have to put work into acting on that too.

the end <3

[alyssasmaddworld]

there's this level of dissociation that goes hand in hand with daydreaming and i feel like it's something i wouldn't know how to begin explaining to somebody who's anti-endo.

maladaptive daydreaming is not inherently caused by trauma. it's considered something you use to cope with it. but for a LOT of people, and as confirmed in multiple studies, it is a dissociative disorder. there's even a level of plurality with it.

you have these people in your head, and you cant destroy them. a lot of them can feel like REAL people. you create worlds, plot lines, and you connect with these characters in a way where they slowly become their own being. their own person. how is this ANY different from being plural?

the answer is: it's really not. if you view plural as synonymous with systemhood then maybe i can see why you'd have a problem with the phrasing, but based off of the actual definitions of plural, maladaptive daydreaming fits the criteria.

the next issue that people tend to have with maladaptive daydreaming being considered plural is that maladaptive daydreaming isn't its own disorder. but something doesnt need to be a disorder for it to be significant in the mental health industry.

a common "rebuttle" of endogenic systems is that they "appropriate" other cultures, but what most people making this argument fail to realize is that, this is HOW culture works. western culture is actively affected by the cultures of other areas. do you genuinely believe that theres not a single Buddhist in america practicing tulpulmacy? that this is SOLELY a non-western phenomenon? then why is "traditional traumagenic" mentioned at all, and not JUST traumagenic?

but there are articles that talk about the importance of listening to the internet, and the words they've cultivated. something i've been told is irrelevant because "an endo made that word" IS BEING heard by therapists all across the globe, not just in america.

"the reader is reminded that culture is dynamic rather than static, meaning that just as our understanding of the online community is different today than it was twenty years ago, this will continue to shift and evolve into the future as well"

things CHANGE. research ADVANCES. and with that, we also know that maladaptive daydreaming is BEYOND VALID on the dissociative spectrum. it has ALWAYS been there, it just wasn't considered a disordered behavior before the 2000s.

on top of this, there's a study that further affirms it's place in the endogenic sphere specifically.

despite this, her brain scans showed "great activity in the ventral striatum, the part of the brain that lights up when an alcoholic is shown images of a martini. Frankly it was super strong"

this means she isn't just mind wandering. mind wandering is what people THINK daydreaming is.

"Mind wandering refers to the occurrence of thoughts that are not tied to the immediate environment—thoughts that are not related to a given task at hand"

mind wandering lights up the Default Mode Network side of the brain, the DMN. the DMN controls Autobiographical information, Memories of collection of events and facts about one's self, Self-reference, Referring to traits and descriptions of one's self.

maladaptive daydreaming has its own dissociative absorption, and it affects the brain differently than mind wandering. it's a proper form of dissociation.

and..would you look at that?? spiritual practices are mentioned. i wonder which endogenic system that reminds me of! (much love to sophie!). it's just further credence towards the fact that non-traumatic systems can exist. why else would maladaptive be on the spectrum, honestly?

trauma doesn't CAUSE maladaptive daydreaming. trauma doesnt cause dissociative absorption. they are ALL coping mechanisms as a way to deal with whatever trauma may be going on-- or it can literally be a choice in the sense that you can actively choose to get absorbed into a book, or how you choose to maladaptive daydream. you can let it interfere with your life and become debilitating and disordered (because sometimes people dont WANT to change) but this doesnt mean it's traumatic.

with all this being said, how is this not a valid presentation of plurality?

[smiling-party]

I dunno if this is stupid but i don’t really like the trans rep in SparkleCare/CometCare. Like, theres no transphobia (or sexism, i dont think gender roles as we know them exist either) and a lack of internal sex organs. At least the uterus. Which, for me personally, are pretty important parts of being trans. Obviously a character could be trans without that stuff, but no human on earth is.

We don’t really see any characters transitioning either? Like, we see Uni before she transitions and after, but not really the in between. This goes for most trans characters i think? You don’t have time transition at all to be trans, I don’t want to come across as if thats what im saying, but for a lot of people its pretty important.

It leaves trans rep feeling detached from this world, and it feels more of an accessory- and thats fine! I’m sure a lot of people could enjoy and take comfort in the universe Kc has created, but its so dissimilar to what we on Earth experience that it doesn’t feel very relatable. Its fine for what it is, but its not a very good representation of transness, i guess, and i think almost any other depiction of it rings closer home.

Yeah i dont know if this makes sense or if im just a selfcentered asshole but hey🤗

- 🃏 (Joker Anon >:3)

Hello! Welcome to the blog!

You aren't a self-centered asshole, because this is an issue not just in SC and/or CC, but everywhere in media where there are trans characters.

We always see the before and after, but what about the middle? Never, at least I haven't seen any so far, and I wish we could see the actual representation of transitioning of an character becoming this gender to this gender, you know?

Also, I agree, I wish in the future we see Uni's starting to transition, and seeing the slow progress of her becoming feminine.

Not just Uni, but any other character as well who transition!

However! I'm glad KC is adding characters with neopronouns now, and giving them xenogenders as well! I think that's really cool.

Oh and making some characters trans in different ways, like how Barry doesn't take testosterone but he got top surgery, or how Marco takes T but didn't get top surgery because he doesn't have body dysphoria!

However I wish we could see nondysphoric transfems/trans women in SC/CC :/ I haven't noticed one yet (unless I'm blind lol).

[b1oodthrsty]

ok i have a TON of different writings in my notes app about various things in jthm but tje first one ill post will be about nailbunny !!!

(tldr: me ranting about how nailbunny is the last remaining part of johnnys former self prior to becoming a homicidal maniac & speculating why)

 johnny says that nailbunny had existed even before the bunny was nailed, and recognizes it as being one of his own internal voices, probably the first one hes ever had.

though theres no given explanation as to why johnny began associating this voice with the nailed bunny, it could imply that like the bubs burgers boy, the event behind it is what causes him to associate a voice with it. we're told how and when nailbunny died: 

though, it doesnt give much answers about the importance of this memory for johnny, as killing animals is something johnny does often, unlike reverend meats association with the memory of the girl. it could be that this was the first thing hes ever killed, though we aren't given any kind of clear timeline of when johnny started to kill. if this was true, it'd mean he's only been doing this for three years (which at least to me, seems somewhat plausible considering that hes 25, and cant recall much prior to when he started killing). in my own interpretation of this particular incident, i would connect the bunny to johnnys irrational fear of losing what he grows attached to- the mention of buying, and feeding the bunny prior to killing it could suggest that he didnt intend to kill it immediately, as the act of feeding it is a bit unusual for johnny, since he tends to either kill things right away, or torture them slowly. the actual nailing of the bunny, in a place he could easily see it from, would make more sense following this interpretation considering that johnny expresses numerous times his desire to remember special moments through violence, one of them obviously being his attempt at killing devi. theres PLENTY of things pointing to this irrational fear of his that drives him to selfishly preserve what makes him happy, but i feel this tweet is the most straightforward coming from him about it and i dont want to spam like 398343934284 screenshots:

so, it could very well be that when buying and feeding the bunny, johnny felt happy and connected to it- and upon realizing this, he felt he had to preserve the feeling through nailing it to the wall. i dont think that happiness is what ended up being preserved in his subconscious, though- remember, johnny states that nailbunny existed prior to the nail actually entering the bunny- so, if anything, the nailing of the bunny reads off to me as the separation of his former life to his current one, solidified by those past memories being engrained into nailbunny rather than having to be held by johnny anymore.

nailbunny seems more like the last piece left of who johnny formerly was, as its shown to reminisce on such memories, seemingly bitter with johnny over the way he's slowly lost himself. johnny often seeks to vent and pursue advice from nailbunny- its one of the few characters able to berate johnny without receiving some kind of backlash or disagreement on his behalf, obviously because he's aware that nailbunny IS himself, giving it the special privilege of being considered always right by him.

johnnys former self-awareness & whatever traumatic memories pushed him to entering the position hes in, have been absorbed by nailbunny, making it quite literally a voice of reason for him. something i find especially interesting is that when johnny attempts to garner sympathy from nailbunny over his loss of devi, nailbunny shuts him down, claiming what he did was "impolite":

sure, nailbunny isnt expressing an open guilt for johnnys actions, but its clear that it finds his moping to be pointless considering the severity of what he's done. theres a fight in johnnys subconscious between feeling naturally, humanely guilty for losing someone he cared for, versus egotistically feeling as if there was no other choice to be done given how fucked up he already is. i really like this particular aspect of johnnys character, how he teeters back and forth from mocking his own pathetic nature, to being convinced that everything he says and does is right. he likes to think that hes a cold, unfeeling individual who knows better than most, yet when actually about to die (which is something hes idealized since the beginning of the series as being a perfect paradise away from humanitys filth) hes hit with a moment of full clarity that he's just as stupid as everyone he hates, as if almost regretting his death.

i actually have WAY more written that delves into how i think him seeing the afterlife was a form of closure for him & reverend meats purpose in suddenly showing up upon his revival, but this is already full of lots of shit so ill end it here :] feel free to scream at me if i got anything wrong/inaccurate or offer your own thoughts ive never posted my rambles before but i love jthm so much so this has just been brewing in my notes app for the past few days ......... if u made it this far thank you im sorry for melting your mind with these evil words of mine ^____^

[i-sveikata]

Hello!

I don't want to ask about the next chapter date, but I really liked when you'd talk about future chapters here, even when it was just mentioning the percentage of writing done or any small detail. So, if you don't mind and enjoy answering questions about it, what was you favorite scene to write and the most difficult one? Anything funny/interesting about it or the writing process? Have you decided where you want the next chapter to end? Was there a scene you weren't really looking forward to writing, but it needed to happen for the sake of the plot? I hope this isn't too spoiler-y, it can be as vague as you like! Hope you have a great day ✨️

hi anon! ha thats great cause i dont know it!

totally happy to talk about the chapter! lmao i got no idea about percentage done only that (as always) the chap is likely to end up longer than i expected ahhahahaahahah.

ive been writing a lot of smut scenes so most of the overall vibe of the chap has been pretty horny lol. its always a different experience writing sex scenes because youre trying to fit a lot of working parts together like what are the main emotions being conveyed? is it sexy and sensual? is it raw and messy and violently passionate? and then there's all the practical considerations like where are their hands at? who took pants off first? did you remember to remove the socks? are they actually in the kind of position that would be physically impossible in real life? lmao. i find the most important part is making a sex scene believable because youre not going to get a reaction from an audience who doesnt believe in it. and if its not believable then even that has its own function and is fulfilling some kind of narrative purpose in the moment to underlay an unaddressed tension. it feels like there are a lot of layers to the characters in this fic and honestly that comes across into the sex too!!

so in this chap they're in a very interesting new dynamic now where pete has been the one sort of chasing Vegas (and it kind of blew up in his face a little) like sure he's admitted to being angry but he hasn't quite admitted to what that did to his trust in vegas. pete offering himself to vegas was a BIG deal and vegas running off anyway was a deep cut to pete (even if vegas also gave him the ring). and that hasn't been sufficiently addressed as yet- so pete is already falling back into old habits of being a little more guarded with himself again. and vegas is such an emotional mess at the moment he's trying to deepen their intimacy as much as he can. he wants to feel close to pete but hes at least self aware enough about his chances for that which is why hes so intent in doing it through physical means (sex and bodily intimacy). i think vegas is very sensitive to any changes to petes behaviour around him so its not going to take very long for him to pick up theres something affecting the previous easy comfort they were finding in each others company before the coup. which is also why hes coming on a lot stronger in the sense of being possessive of pete and his time around people who arent a threat to him (i.e his brother and pete's family) and then being openly hostile to people who have some kind of claim to pete (like his childhood friend poom who isnt romantically interested in pete). basically vegas is feeling insecure of their relationship just as pete is feeling a little insecure about his ability to trust vegas- they're just showing the effects of this in different ways!! (well pete isnt quite showing it as yet but he will)

hmm favourite scene atm is their messy bathroom hook up tbh it is really off the wall for them. i wouldnt say theres an especially difficult scene- i dont normally view writing like that but i have been reworking a lot of that bathroom scene because its actually going to include both POVs and ive been trying to figure out the best place for that POV shift to transition (but i think i've finally decided on a point that im satisfied with). for scenes im interested in most i tend to write those first and then build on them long enough that they end up linking together with other scenes into a comprehensive storyline so there's not really scenes i'm not looking forward to writing if that makes sense? theres obvs like the research details which i end up having to search for but i usually put in placeholders so it doesnt affect the flow of the writing whilst im doing it. i guess for your question then that it would just be the scenes that i get to last? but that doesnt necessarily mean i dont like them or arent interested in them or don't want to write them. it's weirdly a lot less conscious decision making in regards to that. im mostly just filling in scenes that i havent written yet at the moment. i usually like the ideas i come up with for the sake of the plot so there's really not that much reluctance in those plot decisions tbh!! like i came up with a connection/ backstory to the minor family/ main family rings which tankhun is planning to use to his advantage (and get petes help to do so) and it ended up tying in really well with the characterisations of Mr Korn and Mr Kan so that it slotted very neatly (imo) into the fic! i dont mind being too spoilery if people don't mind being spoiled!! but i know ppl have different standards for that so it's better (and sometimes more fun!) to be a bit vague.

thanks for the questions!! it was great to think about. hope you have a great day too! :)

[maygrcnt]

been reflecting on the season a lot recently and on the topic of bucks bisexuality storyline, and i think ive come to the conclusion that theres maybe some catastrphization on the part of people who think the arc is horribly written, but also other people seem to be looking at it through rose tinted glasses and accepting anything given to them just because the storyline was such a long time coming. And i’ve had a hard time with figuring out why both sides of these takes just bother me so much so i sat down with my thoughts while work was slow and i rotated evan buckley in my mind until i had coherent thoughts

When it comes to the self discovery of it all i think that is probably the best thing the show did with the arc. episodes four and five were ultimately huge successes in my opinion on the topic of bisexuality. My main issue with this part of it is not specifically to do with the bi-ness of the storyline but the show in general. The show, showrunner, and Oliver want us to believe this storyline is different, that this is the one that finally changes everything, and I fully believe them in that being their intentions. However, they didnt show that to us well enough. The show has a glaringly cliche formula when it comes to buck and eddie love storylines that i used to think was intentional parallelism but now believe to be a writing rutt that they can't seem to break out of. They meet the partner, they have a romantic moment, something gets in the way of that romance, they meet up at a restaurant to “start over”. Ali, natalia, ana all follow this exactly and taylor sort of. its just tired? And the fact that this is exactly how buck and tommys relationship starts too just makes it so i cant convince myself that this is any different than before. Like i said i truly believe the writers thought they were pulling buck off the hamster wheel and the commentary outside the show tells me that he’s supposed to be doing something new, but they just can't escape their own romance formula enough to actually do it in the TEXT. and one thing about me is i think when it comes to TV, a viewer response lens is the most important way to analyze the story. the intention of the writer doesnt matter as much as the interpretation of the viewer because the average viewer of prime time television isnt reading tim minears interviews or listening to the podcasts oliver stark does, theyre tuning in at 8pm est and tuning out at 9. to conclude on the topic of bucks self discovery arc, i think it was done well. i think this is a general consensus, i feel like most people who think the storyline went sour still believe that episode four was done well at the very least

when it comes to the coming out of it all, this is one spot where i believe there’s some catastrophizing. the storyline had to choose carefully who got the long coming out scenes and i think it’s crazy to say that they chose wrong. do i wish there was a little bit of a longer beat with both hen and bobby about the storyline, yes absolutely. but i don’t think scenes with buck sitting down to formally come out to them would have been either necessary nor in character. bucks strongest canonical ties are to maddie, eddie, and bobby. two of which he never felt the need to come out formally to either by the way. i think a lot of people wanted to see more hesitation and fear from buck about his sexuality, but what they decided to show us instead was a man who realized something new about himself and immediately understood that the people around him were going to love and accept him no matter what. the only slip we see in this confidence is around eddie where… im trying to keep this analysis unbiased by non canon things so im not going to get into what i think of that but… in any sense bucks coming out moments were not about coming out at all but instead always about him being loved by his family. i rate this part of the storyline 10/10 because it all felt so natural and real for someone who has the support system and love that buck does (not saying it isn’t hard to come out even when people are supportive, just that i get why it wasn’t hard for buck). the storyline matched the character really well, but if they were to give the same easy breezy coming out arc to a character with the same backstory as say eddie then i would understand the want for more turbulence.

now the most polarizing part of the storyline for sure is the “established relationship” part of the season i guess you could call it lmao. my personal main complaint here is that we immediately lose any and all insight into the *new* of it all. if you want to make a big deal about this romance storyline being different than the other ones, you actually have to show us on screen what’s DIFFERENT about it. it doesn’t bother me so much on a relationship side of things because the relationship isn’t my personal cup of tea, but i think it would have been nice to see more scenes focused on the reasons this relationship is something new for buck. i’m not a tv writer, i honestly don’t have a suggestion for scenes that could have made this better for me. i think a tone thing is big part of it, if they lightened up tommy’s interactions with buck made him a little more flirty and lively it would have felt truly like a new relationship still in the phase of navigating a new dynamic rather than. well it doesn’t matter what i thought the relationship felt like by the end that’s not the point here. another place i feel like they could have put some more effort in is the bobby of it all, he was very preoccupied but their conversation felt stilted and not actually how i imagine it going. when it comes to the acknowledgment of bisexuality and newfound personal experiences i rate the end of the season: bad. i don’t think this was by virtue of the show not caring or wanting to portray the storyline anymore, but just by virtue of the entire end of the season being… kinda bad.

finally the finale, oh the finale… i swear im trying to come at this as unbiased as i can when i talk about the BT dinner scene but just know that i didn’t like it and that may bleed through. i think it was unfavorable of them to frame this scene the way they did. by having the scene start en media res and having us jump in to the dinner already in progress it feels disingenuous, because now im supposed to believe buck left the hospital, cooked an entire meal, set up a date, started eating and only THEN was the topic of bobby’s health brought up? it feels like this scene was written in a way that it would be for a well established long term couple, not a new relationship we’ve barely seen on screen. in this very scene is the first time tommy even learns what bucks relationship with bobby is like, this is very obviously not a deep connection yet so why are they being given the framework of it? the show is telling us that this relationship has gotten more serious without any proof and i find it very hard to believe them. i think there’s ONE simple change that makes this scene work 100x better and makes me feel like buck is actually settling into the relationship rather than having to take tim minear word for it: just start the scene with buck coming home to tommy! if buck is just getting home from the hospital it doesn’t feel as out of character because there’s less assumed time where buck is for some reason not worried about bobby, which he WOULD be don’t even try to tell me he’s not. and if tommy is already in bucks apartment when he comes home we learn so much about their relationship with such a small gesture. that buck feels comfortable with him there, that tommy feels comfortable alone there, that they spend time there often enough that tommy knows his way around. it just feels like this scene was written in good faith but the forgetfulness by the writers on the overall context of where this scene was in the episode created a strange tone in which i’m supposed to believe evan buckley would ever plan a romantic date night while bobby nash is literally comatose. thoughts on the bisexual storyline in the finale: no. i’m not gonna get into the daddy issues line of it all because that’s a lot more opinion based and it would make this like double length. ask me about it if you want i guess.

all in all, i think there’s … a lot that could have and should have been done differently in order to maximize the goals and effects that tim continuously told us he was trying to achieve. when it comes to carefully telling a story of late life sexuality discovery, i think they did well. when it comes to most other aspects, i think the ball was dropped. pls feel free to send messages or asks regarding this topic because i think im still developing thoughts on it and id love to have conversations regarding :)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello! I hope you're doing good

I saw your post the other day that you were accepting requests but I don't know if you still are, but if you are, I was wondering if we could get some Nolan Grayson content👉👈

Nolan Grayson NSFW alphabet

I was given the chance to write anything, so alphabet time. This is post season 2 Nolan, cuz hes my bbygirl, and I think hed be a better partner in general.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I don’t believe viltrumite culture really does aftercare. They sleep together to have offspring, or maybe as a dominance thing, but I can’t see them doing a lot of healthy kink stuff, or just cuddling afterwards. He probably did something akin to it with Debbie, but its only after leaving it all behind after season 1 and getting with you that he would start to see more importance in it, especially when you give him a lot of aftercare whenever you are in charge. Hes not the best at it yet, but he does try.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On his partner, Nolans favorite part would be any muscularity they have, or if you happen to have a beard. If you have neither then its his partners thighs and hands. On himself its his muscles, especially his torso and arms.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I hope you got a bucket, viltrumites get the kryptonian treatment in this house. Which means, theres so much cum. Nolan produces even more than Mark. Mostly because hes older and is in his “prime” if that makes sense. Unlike Mark though, Nolan doesn’t see the amount he makes as an annoyance, since hes still quite prideful. You do catch him puffing out his chest a little if you mentioned its something you find attractive though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has always had fantasies of being dominated or defeated in battle, whereafter the enemy will have their way with him. He has never once acted on these fantasies, but now that he’s with you and has gotten a reality check he might little by little try to step out of his comfort zone. Has had a few fantasies of being defeated, captured, and made into some kind of trophy wife, think like Leia in the slave dress type situation.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Theres no way to know how old Nolan is, but its assumed hes thousands of years old. This doesn’t mean hes got a lot of experience, since like I mentioned before, I believe viltrumites only do it to reproduce or for dominance. Hes probably gotten more game on earth than most of his life up till that point, so theres things you’ll have to teach him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that puts you above him or has you pinning him in some way, especially loves any position where you choke him in some way, be it your hands or with your arm. When hes feeling more dominant himself you better except him to pull an amazonian position or something like that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nolan is serious in most situations, and the bedroom is the same, especially since part of him feels a little strange just doing it for fun like this. But also because Nolan thinks he has to pay attention and learn, to make up for his less stellar experiences in the past.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nolan doesn’t shave any of the hair on his body, except for his beard to get his usual stache. Viltrumites I believe would take pride in their bodyhair. He does keep it neat and tidy though, kinda like a controlled chaos.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Nolan doesn’t really know how to be way too romantic in the moment, since being in love without a purpose is still so new to him. He has his moments though, where he just kinda looks his partner in the eyes with the most love filled eyes. Saying it, is still difficult though.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)                                                                                                                                       

The normal amount for viltrumites his age, which I believe would be once a day or once every two days, just to keep themselves from backing up too much of it. up until recently hes probably mostly done it for his health, but after getting with you he starts to do it for fun.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Doing it in the suit, or just his cape for that matter.

Strength and power in general.

Blood kink, pain kink, what comes with fighting.

Sparring and training with his partner.

Powerplay

BDSM

Sensory deprivation

Asphyxiation and choking

Edging and overstimulation

Breeding (secretly, on him)

Roleplay (like the slave Leia and owner type roleplay. Getting this from him will be almost impossible though)

Dom/sub or master/slave

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nolan could honestly do it anywhere, he doesn’t have a preference. That comes with being his age and having an ego like viltrumites tend to do. Hes a preference for doing it on battlefields or wherever you guys spar though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Its not that hard to get Nolan going, but hes much better at containing it than Mark, but that’s more because of age and life experiences. The easiest way to get him going is to get his adrenaline up, so sparring or even outright fighting. That, or just jerking off somewhere nearby, cuz he will hear and smell it with ease.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Share. Nolan wouldn’t share himself or his partner with anybody, he is very possessive. Especially other viltrumites. It would be like putting to male hamsters together, one of them dies before its over.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Didn’t have much of a preference in the past since it wasn’t really anything he paid too much attention too. But with Debbie he preferred receiving, since it was the more “dominant” role. But with you he learns that he quite likes giving, he just has a hard time in the beginning getting on his knees below you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the situation, but most of the time its slow and hard. But if its after you guys have sparred or fought, its faster and even rougher. He loves when you treat him roughly too. But there are times where its more slow lovemaking than anything else.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nolan doesn’t have anything against quickies, its just not his favorite. If you both are in the mood, sure he enjoys it, but he prefers when you guys can take your time. But this also stems from viltrumites having so much damn stamina that one quickie doesn’t even scratch the itch.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nolans for trying most things, even more dangerous stuff, unless you are vulnerable like a human or something else in that genre, he wouldn’t want to accidentally crush you with his thighs or anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

More stamina than you could imagine, you can’t even dream of keeping up unless you are a fellow viltrumite, like Allen, or some other species like that. Could probably go nonstop for days, if not a couple of weeks without having to slow down. In the end, even If you are a fellow viltrumite, you guys probably just stop more out of boredom or because you have other things to do than exhaustion.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t own toys, and doesn’t really see the purpose for the most part. Of course, he still has fantasies where they fit very well, but Nolan won’t admit it even if you can tell hes thought about it from his blush.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on his mood for the most part. If you guys are alone, I could see him getting handsy or mumbling the raunchiest of things. The type to “accidentally” rip your clothes just right, or his own clothes for that matter, just to show off a little. He loves when you tease him too, he’s just still very bad at waiting it out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud, even if you’ve somehow gotten him deep into subspace. He’s mainly grunts and groans, and he clenches his teeth a lot, meaning you’ll have to put something in his mouth. But if you do put something in his mouth, you might get some gasped moans and whimpers if you’re lucky.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has written multiple very successful adult novels under a penname when he lived on earth. One happens to be an extremely popular series based around his own most shameful (in his opinion) fantasies, involving a muscular warrior put under the boot of an even bigger and more muscular warrior. He’s not good at it, but Nolan likes to draw. It tends to mainly be doodles, but he’s surprisingly good at vehicles and landscapes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Very big and thick, like, you are so lucky he turns out to like bottoming the most. How Debbie took it, you’ll never learn, but that woman deserves a damn medal. Both a grower and a shower, you think he’s big when he’s soft, you’ll be in for a surprise when he gets hard. Veiny and uncut.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Its always been quite average for a viltrumite his age and position, meaning he was fine taking care of himself up until now. Now Nolan finds himself fumbling every now and then, because he feels like an uncontrollable animal at times with how much he wants it. Nolan is able to suppress it though, more for his own pride and dignity than anything else.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Nolan doesn’t really fall asleep afterwards on the regular, its only if you’ve really wrung his dry mentally, by for example putting him in subspace or similar. But its almost impossible to get him physically tired enough to sleep. He does like to cuddle afterwards, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.

[boatemlag]

Hi I read your gift fic to Bee and I am soooooooooo wondering about the funerary rites of every empire pls tell me about them

[ID: Ask from erstwhilesparrow that says, "[staggers out of ao3 shaking slightly] okay so obviously now i have to ask you for your thoughts on empires funerary practices!! stares at you with big pleading eyes. share thoughts?" /end ID]

HI!!!! im so glad you asked >:) a lot of this is in my brain but this was the initial note for the concept for the gift fic so you see where i'm coming from

[Text ID: A screenshot of an iPhone notes app bullet point that says: "2. 2. mezalea and complicated system of rebirth and reincarnation-> no sense of grieving funerals? joel has never had to grieve because hes inorganic. clay structures dont die. interested in the connection between golems in judaism and clay constructs in mezalea" /end ID]

my basic concept with mezalea was ultimately that because constructs dont die (joel was made by the mother tree, and in turn made the mezaleans in his image? something like that) they cant properly die? and if they do die their friends and family or joel himself can reinstate them, and theres ritual for that, but its a thing that is ultimately for inorganics. and its not really akin to a funeral.

more under the cut, separated by nation! ones mentioned in the fic first!

mythland: for mythland i was inspired by this story i heard from a classmate of a funeral he attended in his father's hometown in china where they walked from the morgue to the cemetery and it took like multiple hours and they were singing funeral songs and prayers and such and then still had a ceremony at the cemetery. i had an image in my mind of the rain falling through the dark oak leaves and sausage dressed in the robes of a king even though he is so small (way too small for him) and the robes really are wearing him, and the hours upon hours of walking through the streets of mythland to the royal cemetery with hundreds of mythic citizens behind them singing mourning songs and the toll that takes on a boy too young to be king... yes. delicious. after the blood sheep religion is revived, these ceremonies involved ritual animal sacrifice.

gilded helianthia: i really like the idea of helianthians being people of the earth, and not having huge ceremonies for their funerals. people coming from the earth and going back to the earth. planting their favorite plants in their resting place. this one is pretty self explanatory i think? and its a very logical extension of helianthia's values. the bonfire is something i think is very common in surrounding areas of bordering nations.

pixandria: pixandria is, i think, the only canon depiction we have of funerals? its kind of obvious to say "The Vigil" but like. the Vigil. im also a big fan of the idea of something similar to an ofrenda being common, visiting the memorials of lost loved ones. i also think corpses dont preserve well in the desert so cremation is very common. the body is not considered very sacred and its the soul that has to be memorialized.

rivendell: i spend so much time thinking about these goddamn elves its not even FUNNYY!!!!!! religious schisms make me SICK!!!!!! in the head. anyway. i think cremation used to be very very common in rivendell because in the cold of the mountains bodies decompose very very slowly. but after the schism fire is considered weirdly sacrilegious when it comes to rituals, so they sort of have shirked the cremation part of the ritual. theyve always had wakes i think, and theyve replaced cremation with a complex catacomb type situation. elves also dont die super often? so there are centuries of elves buried beneath the mountains but its not like. that many. comparatively. elves consider it important to see the corpses of their loved ones as part of the grieving process and its an egregious crime to desecrate a corpse or modify the body in any way, even back in the days of cremation.

cod empire/codlands: funerals are VERY important in codish culture because the swamp conditions mean uhhh bog bodies are very possible. and thats considered sacrilegious because the only preserved body allowed is the cod head lmao. its a religious symbol as well as a theocratic symbol. that being said, there are a plethora of ways cod folk prefer to care for their dead. for those who are closer in heritage to oceanic peoples, its very common to feed corpses to fish (livestock) and hold a ceremony during then. for those with mythic heritage (before the ravine and erection of the walls of codlands and mythland) funeral processions were very common, though usually taken out to sea. these are just a few of the types of funerary ceremonies the codfolk use.

ocean empire: as mentioned in the previous section, oceanic rituals often involve feeding bodies to the fishy livestock as a funeral ritual. other than that, more land-living oceanic citizens do something akin to a "viking funeral" where flaming rafts are sent out to sea

lost empire: heh. so theres two main things here: pre and post xornoth. the folks of the lost empire used to bury their dead in large clearings dedicated as cemeteries. for more important people in society they constructed tombs all connected by underground tunnels. post-xornoth, cremation was added as a common custom. this was obviously short lived for the empire.

house blossom/the overgrown: similar to gilded helianthia, except instead of the land around, citizens are buried with seeds on their being, to be used as nutrients for the large wild flowers. post burial rituals include several days of merriment and mourning, and i like the idea that bonfires are also common here.

the grimlands: i really like the idea of public burial in the fields outside of the main capital of the grimlands. there are pretty large cemeteries that are multilayered. the tradition has a common ancestor with the lost empire's tradition.

crystal cliffs: I REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF LIKE. magic being involved in some way. perhaps the crystallization of famous witches and wizards and sorcerers immortalized in amethyst, deep beneath the mountains. because the crystal cliffs is run by the headmaster or headmistress at the time i think the general burial rights actually depend on the nation of origin or wishes of the individual. crystal cliffs is very much a nation of various peoples because anyone can attend.

the undergrove: the burial rights of the gnomes is a dying secret. because there are very few gnomes left, the decimation of the population has erased former traditions in the face of cremation to eliminate chance of Corruption. it used to be something else, but that knowledge is lost to time.