#i'm a big fan of just...leaving. no need to explain why. especially if the why might hurt and it's not something that someone needs to hear

[iguessitsjustme]

*flips hair* I have never blocked anyone because I'm nosy, but I want to know #4!

What was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I am also nosy...to my detriment sometimes. Which is why it takes me so long to actually block people that I should probably have blocked a lot sooner. But I do have a story.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I've kind of vaguely mentioned this when asked before but I'll talk a tiny bit more specifically here. Not too specific because I'm not trying to start shit buuuuut....also they are definitely not the only person I've blocked but I think they might be the most recent one? I don't know.

About a year(?) ago I had to block a couple of people because they were starting to make me uncomfortable. I was being tagged in all sorts of posts (and to be clear the posts weren't bad, they were even positive! kind posts even) and something about what was happening was rubbing me the wrong way.

Actually before I keep talking about this, I feel like I need to talk a tiny bit about myself because it's important context. This also might surprise people considering how much I overshare on here, but I am, at my core, an extremely private person. I do not like attention. I get anxiety when my follower count goes up here (genuinely love all of my followers and this is definitely a me problem). I live in fear of being secretly recording for some stranger's tiktoks. I don't want my face seen by people. I do not wish to be perceived. It is 100% a trauma response and I am aware of all of this. And this is extremely important to why I blocked these people.

It is slightly easier for me on tumblr than it is in real life, but this is quite literally my safe space that I have built for myself. It's why I'm comfortable sharing things here. I have no issue being tagged in posts. I have no issue with people wanting to talk about things I've said or if they tag me because they want me to see something. So getting tagged in seemingly genuinely kind and positive posts should be fine, right?

Well, yes and no. The posts I was being tagged in felt...hollow to me. Like I was being tagged in an attempt to build a platform instead of because they actually wanted to tag me. I was being tagged in posts thanking me for participating in a fandom which kind of made it seem like the reason I was posting about anything was for accolades and that...is simply not why I'm here. I am not here to gain a following. I am not here to build a platform or to help others build a platform. I am here to post silly little posts about my shows and my life and also now keep track of character's glasses. If I wanted to build a platform, tumblr is not what I would be using (and honestly if I wanted to, I genuinely think I could be pretty successful at building a platform and gaining followers and other platforms. I would consider myself highly marketable if I wanted to go into that industry).

But the last straw for me? What finally did it? Why I finally blocked the people whose vibes have felt off for me and clearly did not know me well enough to know that doing what they were doing was quite literally the opposite of something I am comfortable with? It was when someone (again not naming names because I don't think they had bad intentions but were just so horrendously misguided as to allow themselves to ignorantly do this) who did not follow me, did not reblog any of my posts, did not like any of my posts, had never replied to any of my posts, nor had they ever interacted with my blog or with me in any type of way (I checked because I'm nosy enough and petty enough to have checked that) tagged me in a post. To thank me. For participating in a fandom. And I am not saying anyone has to do any of those things. But if you're gonna tag me to thank me for participating...perhaps maybe at least like one of my posts about the thing you're thanking me for?

To be clear, this was a show that a lot of people were talking about at the time. I was not the only person tagged in these posts. I was for sure not the only person talking about the show. In fact, I probably posted a tenth of what other people posted. If that. And my posts, honestly, weren't very well thought out or coherent. They were my typical little silly posts. And I know people like those. But they weren't the same as what other people were posting. And to be tagged by someone that seemed to only care when it was something that could gain them notes and followers instead of someone who actually enjoyed what I was saying? Felt strange to me. And rather than start beef with a stranger on the internet I blocked them.

Blocking them solved the issue that was making me uncomfortable as peacefully as I felt I could. They no longer had the ability to tag me in strangely performative posts and I didn't start yelling at a stranger and potentially ruin their day. Or start drama that no one else needed to be involved in. I did make a small post about it at the time mostly because I felt so weirded out and I did feel a little bit bad about blocking them. But it was such a quiet thing that no one noticed and everyone moved on with their lives. Made things happier. For me at least. Probably happier for them too.

Choose Violence Ask Game

[slutforth]

2009!BILL KAULITZ X FEM!READER

req: I was wondering if maybe you could write a headcanon or a fic abt Bill (2009 or 2008) dating fem!reader , who is a rapper and who has a total different clothing style (like super girly, etc)

cw: Heated makeout session, but nothing actually happens. Revealing clothing I guess?!?

a/n: Tysm for the request, I had lots of fun with this 😈 sorry it's short :P

"Thank you all, and goodnight!"

You yelled into the microphone, inflicting thousands of screams from all your fans that came to see you. Seeing all their happy faced made you so grateful that you had made it this far with your rapping career.

You ran off stage, your little white miniskirt doing the bare minimum to actually cover anything, but you didn't mind. You loved the attention, especially from your boyfriend. Bill.

People always found your relationship weird because of the stark contrast between your styles and how you dressed.

Bill stuck to a more edgy or "emo" style, with his dark eye makeup that you absolutely adored and his black and white dreads that sat perfectly on his shoulders. As well as the heavy and big pieces of jewellery that he decorated almost every outfit with.

Whereas you had a more girly style, always having your hair down or in some type of cutesy updo. You always made sure to incorporate pink into your outfit somehow, whether that was the whole outfit itself being pink or just a cute ribbon in your hair.

And not to mention that most of your outfits were quite revealing, especially the ones you wore on stage. Miniskirts and tight little shorts that left little to the imagination made it torturous for Bill to watch you from the wings.

Which is why, as soon as you were off stage, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to your dressing room. You just giggled, knowing that there was a raging problem under those baggy camo pants.

"Bill, as much as I'd love to... yknow.. help you out, I'm on again soon." You explained, knowing that he probably wouldn't let up and just try yo fuck you anyways.

"Don't care.." He growled, a firm grip still on your wrist. It was turning you on, seeing him all dominant and sexually frustrated.

You obediently followed, a silent gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting on the curve of your hips and your plush thighs.

He cupped your face, smashing his lips onto yours to release all the pent-up frustration he had from watching you on stage in your pink little crop top and white mini skirt. He thought he was going to burst.

You let out a little moan into his mouth, feeling his hands slowly start to guide your hips back and forth against his lap. The friction from his pants onto your safety shorts felt way too good.

"Mm... Bill.." You breathed between kisses, his hand never leaving your hips to make sure the pleasure remained between your two bodies. He needed release, and he needed it now, but making out was one of his favourite things.

He slid his tongue into your mouth, gently probing and exploring as you kissed him back. The seam of his pants felt amazing against you, only making you grind down harder onto his lap.

The reaction you managed to get out of him caused you to smile into the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening as his lips stuttered against yours. You caught him off guard.

You put your hands on his chest, trying to break the kiss from air, but as soon as you did, Bill latched onto your neck, one of his hands travelling up and massaging your breast through the fabric of your shirt.

"Bill.." You breathed out as you glanced at the time, knowing you'd have to go on soon, so you wanted to stop whatever this was before you went back on stage.

"Shut up for a sec, hm?" He grumbled, clearly not happy that your attention wasn't fully on him. Instead, it was on your performance. Which was understandable, but it still annoyed him.

"Just keep moving those pretty hips." So you did, grinding slowly as you kept adding more pressure between you, only increasing the pleasure more and more.

You guys kept making out until you heard and abrupt knock at the door of your dressing room, followed by your manager yelling. "On in 5!" You pulled away and looked down at Bill with a smirk, knowing you were right after all the times you told him you needed to be on soon.

"Fuck." He rolled his eyes.

[cpvnksabm]

Please stop trying to "fix" RTC's disability rep without doing prior research, especially if you are able-bodied.

I'm not just saying this because, on principle, I think it's important to centre & uplift disabled voices in discussions of disability representation. I'm saying it because in practice, I've noticed that when people take the "canon sucked so I'm just going to change it" approach to Ricky's depiction in RTC, they frequently end up erasing the parts of canon's representation that were valuable and important to me, sometimes doing things that are worse than canon.

It's important for a fandom to be able to recognise canon's flaws, especially in its depictions of serious topics. But I often feel that the discussion of criticising RTC's disability rep is dominated by people who haven't done a lot of research or don't understand the issue.

I've found that most of the things I actually consider objective flaws in RTC's disability representation are incredibly underdiscussed. Instead, criticism tends to focus on a few specific points, most of which are things I don't agree with or things that are just objectively wrong. For example - it was not ableist to remove the scene where Ricky concedes the competition. At all. I could even argue that this was a positive change, but it gets lumped in with the more ableist script changes (the 2022 rewrites removing Ricky's disability) simply because both happened after the most popular proshot was released in 2016.

Another criticism I see frequently is the idea that canon should have named Ricky's specific disability and was bad rep for not doing so. I understand the idea behind this and somewhat agree with it, but I also think it's more complicated than most people give it credit for - Ricky specifically has a rare disease, meaning most of RTC's audience would not be familiar with it, and when the musical was written, the intended "official" watching experience was for people to see it live, in a dark room with their phone turned off. While the majority of the fandom (who got into RTC through bootlegs) would benefit from Ricky's condition having a known name that can be easily googled, I think it makes sense for the the writers to avoid using terms the average audience member wouldn't be familiar with, given they wouldn't be able to Google it unless they remembered it after the show.

This wouldn't be an issue, if not for the fact that fans frequently use "canon wasn't clear enough" as an excuse to erase the things that canon was clear about. There is a big difference between a character having some sort of "blank slate mystery disease", leaving it entirely up to the fandom to decide what disability he has, and a character who is explicitly said to have a rare degenerative disease with a clearly shown set of symptoms, without the exact name of the disease being mentioned.

I think part of the issue here is a lack of awareness. Many people don't understand how one disease would cause both Ricky's inability to speak and his need for mobility aids, and so they assume canon must have just chosen these symptoms at random. And since "choosing symptoms at random" isn't exactly a great approach to disability depiction, these fans then try to "fix" canon by coming up with separate plausible explanations for Ricky's symptoms.

But the fact is that Ricky's symptoms were not chosen at random - they are in line with symptoms that are caused by real-world neuromuscular disorders. This is heavily implied to be the type of disability Ricky has (I've made a post explaining why, check it out on my account if you want).

Seeing erasure of Ricky's disability is always upsetting, but it's even more upsetting when it comes from people who think they are "fixing" canon by removing "unrealistic" depictions of disability. A person being unable to talk and a mobility aid user due to neuromuscular disability is not unrealistic. Just because you aren't already aware of how something can exist, doesn't mean it is unrealistic.

And there are other issues too, such as whether the "feed him through a tube" meant anything with regard to ricky actually having a feeding tube or generally how well canon handled ocean's ableism, where I feel like people are too quick to jump to "I don't know why canon did that, must be bad representation, I'll fix it" without fully understanding the issue. And if you try to "fix" canon without understanding where it went wrong, you might just make it worse.

I just think it's time for everyone to step back a bit and remember that it's okay to not know everything. Ricky is a character with an underrepresented disability, and it makes sense that some things about him might not be things you've seen before or things you understand well. It's okay to be confused. It only becomes a problem when people make assumptions and then spread these assumptions without fact-checking.

It's very easy for misinformation to get spread online. One person makes a claim in a post, and other people just believe it without fact-checking, because they don't see why the OP would lie about it. And often OP isn't lying at all, but they may be misunderstanding something. A lot of the time, complex subjects like disability representation can be accidentally stripped of important nuance in a game of telephone, when a discussion aimed at one group of people gets taken out of context. And the 2017/2018 RTC scripts frequently get lumped in with the ableist post-2022 script, purely because they both come after the most popular version (the 2016 proshot bootleg).

So before you try to "fix" RTC's disability representation, I think it's important to take a step back and think about what you think RTC originally did wrong. What makes you think these parts were wrong? If it's simply because you don't understand it, or because other people have called it bad representation but you don't understand why, it's time to do some more research to figure out how to best fix it. Otherwise, you might do something that is also bad representation, or plain erasure - and you might do this in an attempt to "fix" one of the things that RTC actually did a good job of originally.

My asks are always open if you're interested in hearing one disabled person's perspective on how RTC handled a specific topic. Please do not assume you don't need to ask because you already know what my perspective will be, and please don't feel like you're bothering me by sending an ask. I am much less bothered by good-faith questions than by people speaking over me, even unintentionally, or taking it for granted that i'll agree with their views.

I think getting a disabled perspective is incredibly important if you're planning on changing any aspect of ricky's disabilty in fanworks - there is a fine line between genuinely improving on canon's flawed rep, and just erasing canon's rep (including the good parts) and excusing it with "well it was bad representation anyway". Remember, disability erasure isn't only when a disabled character is made completely abled - it is possible to erase an aspect of ricky's disability even if he is still disabled.

This is a little more blunt than my usual posts, but it is very important. Thank you so much for reading.

[risuola]

BIRTHDAY GIFT — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Sometimes you forget about your own birthday, but no worries, Satoru's got you. He always remember, and he even prepared a very special gift for you.

cw: fluff, no warnings — 2,8k words

a/n: i turned 28 this week, so here i am indulging myself with a fictional party, because i hate real parties. also i'm not sure if the picture in the middle is an official art or the fan art, i claim no rights to it 🩶

“Thanks Kento,” you addressed the blonde, when you got out of the bathroom in his house. “You’re saving my life.”

“No need to thank me,” he responded with the ghost of a smile on his face, and you checked yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, but other than that, thankfully normal, which wasn’t the case just half an hour ago, when you finished your job in the field.

It was a simple mission – get to the place, exorcise a bunch of curses, nothing out of ordinary and nothing especially difficult to do. Quite the opposite, it went smoothly – it took you three hours to hunt down every single one of the little curses, but their grades were low. One thing you were not told before taking the assignment though, was that those curses had a tendency to ugly explode with purple and green goo as they were exorcised. That’s why, when the job was done, you were covered from head to toe in those slimy curse gut-residuals. It was on your clothes, hands, in your hair and you could have sworn it was in your mouth too. You could feel it, smell it, taste it and damn was it disgusting. Hence why you called Nanami on your way back and thankfully found him at home. His apartment was so near, compared to the way you had to reach Jujutsu high and being the sweetheart that he is, he agreed for you to take a shower at his place and even gave you one of his dress shirts to wear, because your clothes were good for nothing but a trash bag. It was way too big, but with a belt it made for a pretty cute dress actually.

Once you were ready to leave, he got up as well.

“I have a thing to check in school so Ijichi will drive us both,” he explained and you gave it a nod and after that, you two went down to get a ride.

“How are you?”, you asked your friend, while you two were comfortably seated in the back of a car. It’s been a while since you last saw Nanami. “I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m good, thanks y/n,” he once again, gave you the slightest one of his smiles and exhaled deeply. “You’re tired, huh?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Guess I didn’t sleep well today, it’s all good.” You shrugged it off, looking at the driver. “And you, Ijichi? Satoru’s not bothering you too much?”

“I-I’m fine and no, he’s n-not,” the man stuttered, sweat beads forming on his forehead as he spoke and you chuckled. That poor man was constantly being terrorized by the strongest sorcerer for god knows why.

“So, he is bothering you,” you chuckled and Ijichi laughed nervously, wiping his forehead with a tissue. “You don’t have to be so scared of him, he just likes to assert his dominance but he wouldn’t hurt you. Is he bothering you as well, Nanami?”

“Gojo is always bothering me,” the blonde sighed. “It always amazes me how fondly you speak of him. You really seem to like Satoru.”

“Oh, he’s really not that bad,” a smile spread over your face as you thought about Satoru. “He’s quite charming, actually.”

Truth is, you and Satoru are closer than any of you might wanna admit. You’re co-workers, that’s for sure. Friends, also, you know each other since high school and you kept in touch ever since. You probably know the man more than he knows himself. You’ve also been on few dates. Unofficial dates, of course, more like you just went to the same place, at the same time, just the two of you, and sat at the same table or bench, and talked for hours as you were brushing circles onto the skin of his hands or he was just keeping yours in his palms. Those kinds of dates. Nothing serious.

“As charming as a clown can be, I guess,” Nanami shrugged softly and you giggled. “But you two should get together, it’s only you who he seems to not enjoy annoying.”

“Commitment in our profession doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The rest of the drive went in calm, you talked with the two in the car about sweet little nothings, sharing meaningless details about your days and maybe Ijichi seemed a little more stressed than usual, but you didn’t notice anything too weird to think about it. That’s why when you pulled off to the school and got to the main building, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sudden and incredibly loud ‘surprise!’ being thrown at your face.

“Huh?”, it stunned you to the point of disorientation. Why were all of your students and most of the older sorcerers that you know here? Why all the balloons, confetti and the cake?

“It’s your birthday, dummy,” you quickly were swept by the long arm of no one else but Satoru Gojo, who greeted you with a grin wide and bright and a light squeeze on your shoulder. The gesture was friendly, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that exploded in your chest the moment he touched you.

“My birthday?” Oh yes, your birthday. “God, I forgot about it.”

“I figured, buuuut we didn’t so I hope you have a little bit more power in your batteries to celebrate?”, Satoru led you more into the crowded space and with real surprise you noticed that even Yuuta was here, and students from Kyoto along with Utahime. No Gakuganji though, thanks to the heavens.

It was all surreal but at the same time so grounding to be surrounded by so many people that you find close to your heart. And for the next hours, you forgot about how tired your body was, how disgusting you were earlier that day and how perfectly Nanami acted like he has a real job in the school rather than the party to attend.

You stayed there until very late, enjoying every second of talks and laughs with your friends and students. You caught up with all of them, learned about the progress the teenagers were making, got to know more about how work was for the older sorcerers and even, when outside for a quick fresh air breath, one of the little, flying curses gave you a card with few wishes written in it, with no sign whatsoever, but it was the handwriting that gave it away. Suguru Geto. Even though he went a very different path than the rest of you, even though you all lost contact with him the moment he left around the second year, he had never, not even once, forgotten about your birthday, always delivering a card or something else one way or another. It warmed your heart and sometimes you wished to see him just for a moment to give him one last bear hug. You couldn’t, but the card will go to the box of things you cherish, along with the round, dark shades that no one could see through – the ones that Gojo was wearing while in high school; with Shoko’s first scalpel that she used to practice – the very cheap one that got blunt after just few uses; with one button from Haibara’s uniform – the only one that was left hanging by a thread, when he got back to school one last time and along with many other things you’ll hold onto until the day you die.

“Tired?”, Satoru asked you, when the clock hands moved past 1am. Most of the students were already gone and teachers also began to crumble down, calling it a night.

“Exhausted,” you chuckled softly and squeezed the hand he offered you, helping you get up from the couch.

“Let’s get you to bed, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

With all of the goodbyes done, you gathered your gifts and left with Satoru, heading towards your little apartment. All the way he was keeping your hand in his, grinning like he usually does, but something felt off in the way his fingers were wrapped around you. A little tighter than always, little more possessive – a little more like he was afraid to let go of you even though that would be an irrational fear, because you never wanted anything more than to be held by him.

“Soo,” he began, when you both stepped into your place and you put down all of the bags, “I hope you don’t think I forgot about your gift. Though it’s technically not your birthday anymore.”

“Oh, Satoru, you know I don’t care about the gifts, right?” you smiled at him. “All of this, the party, the people, is more than I could wish for. Every second spent with all of you is worth more than any gift I could receive.”

“Yea, yea,” he waved a hand at you, making you laugh. He made you feel all kinds of weird things, one of which being the urge to slap and kiss him at the same time. “I actually have two gifts for you.”

“Of course you have,” a shake of your head was all you could offer him. Of course, Satoru Gojo had to be extra like that. “So?”

“Sooo, that’s the first one.” You didn’t even question the way he pulled the light-blue bag with a matching ribbon on top of it from behind his back, like he had it all of the time, which you know he didn’t. You took it anyway and before you even peeked inside, you reached up to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, whispering little ‘thank you’. “You’re welcome, now, you can check it later,” almost immediately after the bag landed in your hands, it was snatched away and put down where the other gifts were. “The second gift-“

You looked at him with confusion, realizing that Satoru was… nervous? He was bouncing slightly on his feet, as if he was hyping himself up. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand through his hair.

“Yea?”, you encouraged him to continue, taking him by the hands in hopes to calm him down a little. “What is it? Satoru, don’t tell me you bought me a snow tiger or something?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t. What, you want a snow tiger? You said they are cute, but-“

“No, absolutely not. No snow tigers, please.”

“Ok, wow, I’m more nervous than I was… ever, probably, that’s new,” he laughed at his own composure, or rather the lack of thereof, and now you really began to worry. What the hell did this man did?

“Just say it, I can take it.”

Pulling him by the hands, you took him onto the sofa, now slightly worrying he might really pass out. Doors to your apartment stayed open wide, but that was the least of your worries, when you two sat down and all your eyes could fix on was a man next to you. He looked stunning in his dark grey sweater that exposed a little bit of his collar bones and his long neck, contrasting with his pale skin, light hair and really making his eyes pop. The eyes that made it so easy to get lost. They were like an ocean under the clear sky and bright sunlight, illuminating with thousands of glittering sparkles and the shades of azure and turquoise mixed and flew one into another, intertwining and creating an artwork impossible to recreate. If someone were to animate Satoru, the whole budget would probably go into his eyes alone.

“So, first you need to know that if what I want to give you is not something you feel comfortable accepting, please don’t feel obliged to and just say no. Okay?”, he spoke again and you nodded.

“Come on, Satoru. Just tell me. Or show me, whatever it is.”

“Show you. Alright, I can do that.”

You expected everything. Your mind even wandered into absurd such as him giving you an airplane for god knows what reason, but even in your boldest, bravest dreams you didn’t anticipate his lips on yours. He went all slow and soft about it, closing the distance carefully, leaving you with more than enough time to react and push him away if you wanted to, and when he finally reached you, planting a gentle kiss to your mouth, whilst his hand rested on the side of your neck a little stiffly, you froze for a second. Your body froze, but your heart was racing inside your chest, beating so hard he probably could hear it and feel it in your pulse underneath his palm. Satoru’s lips felt as soft as they looked, so perfect against yours even though what was happening wasn’t even resembling a kiss. It was more like a press with the slightest movement applied but it spoke so much. It was an offer – that way Gojo opened himself to you, ripped his own chest apart and with that simple peck on the lips, he wanted to tell you that now, he’s ready to be vulnerable with you, if you’d only want him to.

“Is my second gift a kiss from you?”, you questioned when he moved his head back just a little, searching for your reaction. It would be on brand for Gojo to consider a kiss from himself a valuable gift, which it was, but if that’s what he wanted to offer you, he had to put more effort into it.

“It’s me. If you’ll have me,” he almost whispered, smoothing over your jawline with his thumb. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to commit to relationship in our line of work, but fuck this. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious.”

Your heart fluttered. Grabbing his face in both of your hands, you went in and kissed him, pouring into it all of the love you held for him and he purred softly against your lips, wrapping his long arms around you and leaning more against you. He outweighed you; you lost your balance and fell back onto the couch and he followed you closely, breaking the kiss just to ask, “is that a yes?”

“Yes, Satoru. Very much yes,” you chuckled and his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away with how good it felt. Your fingers found a way through his silky, snowy white strands, you smoothed over the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, giving into the sensation that radiated throughout your entire nervous system, sending hot waves of pure euphoria down your spine and into every cell in your body. You were happy, the exhaustion now completely forgotten and only the man above you mattered. His weight felt so right on top of you, even in the insanely uncomfortable position you two were now trapped in with your hips twisted below his torso and him now half in the air and half on the couch because there was no way for his height to fit in here. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was his lips on yours, his warmth on your skin and-

“Doors,” you mumbled into the kiss, the gentle whiff of cold air reminded you of what has been forgotten. The doors, that were still wide open. He could feel your chest rumbling with a chuckle as you realized none of you cared enough to even close your apartment when you went in and he made a decision to ignore this fact, now completely consumed by the thought of you. He hummed something and moved his lips lower, smearing kisses all over your chin and down your neck and you tugged softly onto his hair. “Satoru, doors are still opened-”

Getting up, walking towards the entrance and locking the doors would be the logical thing to do, but the thought of parting his own body from yours for even a second now didn’t dare to cross Gojo’s mind, so he stretched his hand towards the doors, consumed by sucking a red spot to the side of your neck and you couldn’t believe it, but he blasted the door with a cursed energy. They shut with the loudest noise anyone could create at that hour in the middle of the night and not ten seconds passed, before they just fell out of frame and hit the floor with another harsh thud.

That seemed to do the trick in stopping the heat, because both of you froze for a moment and you looked to the side, he looked to the side and the world stopped for a whole five second, before you started laughing and playfully patting his shoulder.

“What have you done,” you whined. “Satoruu~”

“I’ll fix this,” he swore, hiding his face back into the crook of your neck, pretending like he wasn’t even there and you couldn’t help but brush through his hair as laughter still had the better of you. “Guess I’ll have to stay the night so you can be safe.”

“Guess that might be necessary.”

[vickytaa]

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter IV

sumerry: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III

Y/n Pov:

I was never a big fan of parties, especially when I didn't know anyone, but being next to Matt always calmed me down a bit. After the thing with Emily, everything felt weird and uncomfortable, but the guys quickly noticed it on my face and made me feel at ease again.

“Honey, I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back,” I told Matt, who kissed me on the forehead and let go of my hand so I could go. It didn't take long, or well, a little bit. I just did my business and touched up my makeup a bit, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back out. The party wasn’t bad, and getting to know the guys' friends better is great, it's just that I was tired and I've never been one to go to these parties, but if Matt liked it and it made him happy, obviously I was going to go with him.

As I walked in, I was met with a crowd of sweaty bodies dancing together, which made me a little uncomfortable. But when I found Nick talking to Chris, everything else faded away. Reaching the circle where everyone was chatting, I saw him. Matt was wrapping his arm around Emily's waist, just like he used to with me. He must have made a mistake. But how could he not realize it wasn't me? Maybe he'd just had too much to drink... But Matt doesn't drink much. I was approaching them when I saw Emily grab his jaw and kiss him. He didn't pull away, he kissed her back. How? Why? Didn't anyone notice that I wasn't the one with Matt?

Without realizing it, my eyes had filled with tears and some rolled down my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat. My heart ached. Those few seconds of their kiss felt like years to me. I felt invisible, until Matt heard a sob coming from me and turned around. That's when he realized that the girl he was kissing wasn't his girlfriend, it was Emily.

I was in shock, my world was falling apart, again. "What? Y/n?" I heard Matt say, looking completely confused. I had trusted him, I had told him things about myself that I never thought I would tell anyone else. I couldn't think of anything else, I wanted to get out of there, away from everything, from everyone, lock myself in my room and never come out. So I did, I turned around and started running through the crowd, while I heard Matt shouting for me to stop as he ran after me.

"Y/n! Wait!" Matt repeated, his voice desperate. I had managed to get out of the house, but hearing him cry made me unable to contain my pain and I turned around, this time stopping. "Y/n, I- I didn't- I didn't realize that... that it wasn't you. I had too much to drink and when she..." Matt started to speak, trying to explain what happened, but I couldn't take anymore pain, so much betrayal, so much everything. "No, Matt!" I tried to interrupt him, but I couldn't. He had come very close and grabbed my arms tightly, afraid I would leave. "I thought you had already come back and..." "Matt! Stop!" I yelled, now desperate because I couldn't escape. Matt stood still, slowly raising his gaze that was fixed on the floor to meet mine. My tears were now falling uncontrollably, despite my enormous effort to stop them. "Matt, let go of me," I said, now in a softer, lower tone. But he didn't let go. "I don't want you to leave Y/n. Please," Matt started begging me not to leave, which hurt me even more, but I had to stay strong and respect myself. "No, Matt. Now let me go," I said again in the same tone. "No, no, no, please don't go, I need you," Matt said as he began to kneel in front of me. He was crying uncontrollably, begging me please not to leave, grabbing my legs. "Matt let go of me!" I shouted and my voice cracked.

Hearing my voice crack, Matt let go of me. I quickly ran away from there, not wanting to hear anything else from anyone. I didn't know where I was going or how long I was going to walk, all I knew was that at that moment I needed my dad. He had always been there for me in the best and worst of times, always trying to make me feel better. Even though sometimes I didn't quite understand what he was saying, he always found a way to see the good in the situation, or a way to make me feel good, no matter how bad the situation was. For example, when my cat Sherlock died, he made sure to be there for me the whole month, giving me gifts, affection, making me laugh, despite the fact that I wanted to cry, among many other things that I had never realized I needed until he was gone.

And that left a huge void in me, a pain in my chest, a sadness and a need for him to come back, not at 2 in the morning at my lowest point of mental breakdown, but when I was laughing with my cousins while playing at the last family dinner all together.

I didn't need the music. When I said it kept me alive, it was a lie, what kept me alive was the memory of my dad. The countless nights I spent sleeping in his arms while listening to his favorite records, the road trips singing at the top of our lungs while mom laughed at how much we were alike, that's what kept me alive.

After an hour of walking in the middle of a neighborhood I didn't know, I decided to order an Uber home. The ride was quick, I got home and opened the door, still in costume. "Hi honey! How-" My mom started talking until she looked into my eyes. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" She started asking me a million questions, but I wasn't really listening. I couldn't feel anything but pain. Why does something bad always have to happen when I'm having a good time? It broke my heart to see myself so vulnerable in front of my mom, not knowing what else to do but wanting to run away from everything, like we had done when Dad died. My mom understood that I wasn't going to talk now so she hugged me. She knew I needed my father there, and maybe that wasn't something he would have done, but now he wasn't there and she had to find a way to make me feel a little better. I was crying uncontrollably, and my mom's hug made me cry more, but it helped me, because I felt more comfortable expressing my feelings, I felt accompanied, I felt at home. After a while hugging, my mom helped me go to bed and lay down next to me. Maybe I'll never say it, but I was very grateful to her.

That night, I could sleep very little, so my mom let me sleep a couple more hours and then try to talk about what happened yesterday. When I woke up, I stretched and grabbed my phone. There were thousands of messages and missed calls from Matt, but I couldn't even start looking at them when my eyes started to fill with tears again. I decided that maybe I wouldn't want to see my phone for a few days, so I just turned it off and got out of bed. My mom was making breakfast, like every day. "Good morning, my love. How are you feeling?" she asked. How do I feel? It was my time to speak, to explain everything that had happened, to talk about everything that has been happening to me lately since Dad died, to talk about my desire to leave, to talk. But who cares? If I have a problem, the problem is mine and I have to solve it myself, if I talk to someone I'm sure I'll bother them, I can't talk. If I talk, I cry. Why can't I explain what I feel like everyone else?

I simply swallowed my urge to cry and nodded. I sat down for breakfast and just sat there, staring at the plate of food in front of me. "Y/n, please," Mom said without explanation. I started eating. When I finished, I went upstairs to go back to sleep. I had nothing else to do. When I got up, I would just stare at the ceiling, not knowing what to do. Read? I couldn't form a complete sentence in my mind. Listen to music? I can't even hear my own thoughts. Talk to someone? I cry.

The moments from last night replayed over and over in my mind. The turn the night took, before we went out we were all doing great, happy, and at the end we didn't even leave the party together. I wonder what Matt is thinking, what he's doing. Is he thinking about me? Why would he think about me now if he didn't think about me before kissing Emily? God. I need to sleep and never wake up again.

The emptiness inside me grew bigger and bigger. I don't know if I'll ever trust anyone again. I feel broken and alone, as if the world around me is falling apart and there's nothing I can do but watch it crumble. I don't understand why he would want to make me believe he was in love with me and that he loved me only to break my heart. A big part of me wanted to talk to him and tell him what a jerk he is, the other part wanted to believe that it was an accident and that there's still hope.

The following days were the same, I only left my room to eat or go to the bathroom, I missed a whole week of school, I left my phone off, in short, I disappeared for everyone except my mom. She understood that I didn't want to go to school now because I didn't want to see Matt's face, but she refused when I asked if we could move because if I did anything here it reminded me of him, and that hurt me a lot. "No, honey, we're not moving again." I was crying again, begging her to leave. "Mom, please!" I said in my broken voice, full of pain. My mom's heart broke seeing me like that, but she couldn't take a step back again. "Honey, listen, when your father... passed away, I couldn't go back home because I was afraid of having to start over without him. He was the engine of my life." Her eyes began to fill with tears, she paused to catch her breath and spoke again, "That's why we moved, because I couldn't go back home and see all his things. But now that some time has passed, I could think about it better and I think maybe it wasn't the best thing on my part, because with that I taught you that if something bothers you you have to run away from it, and no, you have to talk. I barely knew Matt, but he seems like a good guy, and it shows that he really loves you and would never do anything to make you feel bad." She finished and I saw a tear fall and roll down her face. "Mom..." I said in a weak voice. "Honey, talk to him." "I... I can't," and with that I ran to my room and locked myself in again.

When the weekend arrived, I found myself out of my room, in the living room, listening to music again after so many days. As the first song was about to start, I heard the doorbell ring. Who was it? I wondered. Honestly, I didn't want to see anyone, especially at that moment, because I had red and swollen eyes, my hair in a messy bun, a big t-shirt and shorts.

But I didn't think about it much either, so I quickly got up from the couch and walked to the door. The doorbell rang again, it seemed like the person behind the door was desperate. "I'm coming!" I said, a little annoyed by the impatience. I opened the door and there was Nick, who looked very worried, and as if he had been crying, but little compared to what I had cried. "Y/n, I need help," Nick said. I knew this was serious, because he went straight to the point, without greeting or anything. Before I could ask, Nick explained what was happening: "Matt... he's not eating, he's not talking, he won't leave the room, Y/n please, we've tried everything, but-" I interrupted him, "Wait, wait, what happened to him?" I couldn't believe it, Matt was bad, very bad. Could it be because of...? "When you ran out that night, we went after Matt and found him crying on the floor. We took him home, we tried to talk to him, but he doesn't answer, he just locked himself in the room and won't come out. I'm afraid he's going to do something bad. I'm scared, Y/n."

I knew what happened between us had affected him, but hearing it from Nick? This is terrible. Nick is never afraid of anything. I knew I had to do something to help his brother, as much as it hurt me, Nick and his brothers were still my friends and seeing him so devastated broke my heart.

I tried to calm him down a bit, we spent some time together, but my mind was fixed on Matt, I had to help him. So when Nick left, I turned on my phone, after a few days off. And there were millions of messages from Matt, of all kinds, but they all ended with an 'I love you, I'm sorry'. I can't deny that my heart didn't break as I read the messages.

I couldn't wait any longer, there was no more time, I changed into a more comfortable outfit, greeted my mom and left the house, to head towards the triplets' house.

a/n: I cried writing this chapter. What happens when she goes to their house? I can't wait

love yall:))

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 1

A/N: New series alert! This is a time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a reader insert. I've had this one in my head for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! It'll get spicy soon, but this chapter is mostly setup. Hang in there! I think this'll be good! Special thanks to my beta reader, @ccab for helping me with this one, as always.

Warnings: none really. This is mostly fluffy setup! Oh yeah, there's an erection lol

Word count: ~2.7k

You've been an Elvis fan for your entire life. Your grandmother was a big fan and it's something the two of you shared while she was alive. Since she passed, you've become even more obsessed, traveling to Graceland and anywhere Elvis performed whenever you have a chance. It's weird, but you have this strange feeling like there's something that ties you to him, despite the fact that he died 10 years before you were born. You don't really tell people this, but everyone who knows you knows how much you love him. Your roommate is consistently amazed at the lengths you'll go to in order to experience something related to him.

"You're really going to miss class for half a week to go to Tupelo?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but I need to be there at the same time he was."

"Y/n, it's 2007. He's not going to be there."

"I know that, Katie. I can't explain it. Just mark me present in algebra, please." She shakes her head with her eyebrows raised.

"If you insist."

******

It's 1957 and Elvis has had a small break since his last show, so he spent it at his new home in Memphis. The house is everything he's ever dreamed of for his family, so he's almost reluctant to go back on the road. Still, he's promised to do another show in his hometown after the one last year was so successful. Going back to Tupelo is always a strange experience for him, especially now that his financial situation has changed so much. His memories there are difficult, at best, so it's strange to go back as a famous performer.

He shakes his head to refocus on the conversation he's in about getting things ready to leave. The Colonel is there and he'll need to get in a car with him soon. No time to ponder the philosophy of how much things can change in a few short years.

"My boy, are you ready to leave? We need to make sure we have plenty of time to get there before the show."

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let me grab my suitcase." He picks up the piece of luggage and wraps his mother in a hug. She whispers in his ear.

"Love you, booby. We'll see you soon." He nods and kisses her cheek. Then, he makes his way to the car and slides into the back seat. Next stop: Tupelo.

******

When you get to Tupelo, you head straight to the fairgrounds where Elvis played his show in '57. There's something magical about being there exactly 50 years later. You wander around the site, closing your eyes to imagine what it must have been like to be there to see him. There's a strange pang in your heart like you miss him, even though you've never met him.

******

Elvis is putting on his best show for all the screaming girls in the audience. He's dressed in a gold jacket and black pants and he's not holding back at all in his performance. He sings, he dances, he wiggles, and the girls go wild.

Something about the energy of the crowd and the feeling of being on stage has him excited. He does his best to hide it during the performance and is pretty sure he manages to keep anyone from noticing. But as soon as the show is over, he knows he's going to need to find somewhere private to either take care of himself or at least adjust his pants so that it's less obvious. He runs down the steps of the stage and heads behind it to try to find some kind of place to do what he needs to do.

As he's walking around quickly, he gets the strangest feeling in his stomach and then runs smack into a girl.

******

You're wandering around where the stage would've been when you run into him. The shock of meeting another person here at the fairgrounds after dark is nothing compared to what you feel when you look up at him as he grabs your upper arms to steady you.

"Honey, be careful. I'm on a mission here."

"Holy shit. You're..."

"Yes. Now I have to..." He looks you up and down and realizes the strange outfit you're wearing. Then he looks up and realizes the stage has disappeared. He looks around frantically, forgetting that he needs to posture himself to hide his erection.

"You're... how? Oh God." You can't believe what's happening. You're pretty sure you must have fallen asleep somewhere. You pinch your arm, just to be sure. But no, this is Elvis Presley. And he has a massive erection.

"What the hell is going on here, honey?" He looks into your eyes fearfully.

"I don't know. Are you really... you?"

"I'm Elvis Presley, if that's what you're asking. Where are we?"

"We're in Tupelo. At the fairgrounds."

"No, that's where I just was." He looks around again and you look down, blushing.

"Are you... are you okay?" You ask sheepishly. He gasps and turns away from you to rearrange himself. When he turns back around, he grabs you by your upper arms and looks into your eyes again.

"What is happening?" Just then, the security guard calls to you from across the grounds.

"Hey! You can't be here!"

"Oh, shit, we need to go. Come with me." You grab his hand and pull him toward the exit. He follows along reluctantly.

"I'm sorry; I know this is weird, but we need to go." You break into a jog and he jogs along with you, still holding your hand. When you finally make it back out to your car in the parking lot, you stop and catch your breath.

"Okay, honey, what the hell is going on?"

"I need you to not freak out when I tell you this." He shrugs.

"I can't make any promises."

"You, well, you travelled through... through time."

"I don't understand."

"Elvis, it's 2007. You've travelled 50 years into the future."

His face goes white and you're afraid he's about to pass out, so you quickly open the car door and let him fall into your front seat.

"The future?"

"Yes."

"2007?!"

"Yes."

"That's why you're dressed so strangely. And why this car is... different..." He looks around your car incredulously. You nod.

"Is this a thing people do in the future? Travel through time?!"

"Oh absolutely not. I don't know how this happened. Also my outfit is not strange. Your outfit is strange." He smiles a little and then leans back against the seat, wiping his forehead with his hand. You walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat. He turns and looks at you.

"Well, I guess I'm stuck here. Where are we going?"

"You're really Elvis Presley?"

"I'm pretty sure." You shake your head, trying not to cry, but the tears start to stream down your face. "Aw, honey, don't cry. Why are you crying?"

"I can't believe it's you. I've loved you forever."

"How do you know who I am?" You open your mouth to answer and then close it quickly. You'll have to be careful with what you say, so you don't tell him too much about his future. Assuming you'll be able to get him back where he came from.

"My grandma was a big fan of your music in the '50s."

"Oh. Your grandma?! I'm sorry. I keep forgetting what year you said it is."

"It's 2007. Exactly 50 years from where you were."

"50 years. Wow. So I'm 72?! Wherever I am." You swallow hard. You can't tell him. You decide to change the subject.

"I need to go home. I guess you'll have to come with me. Unless you object?"

"Where else am I going to go?"

"That's a good point. Back to campus we go."

"Campus?"

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're gonna have to stay at my dorm. I hope that's not too weird." He looks at you with an incredulous smile.

"Everything about this is weird."

"That's valid." You both laugh as you start the car and drive away.

******

When you pull into a parking space on campus, it's close to 1am. He yawns. You forget how tired he must be. You've actually been able to talk quite a bit on the drive and you're surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

"Are we going to have to sneak?" He looks at you curiously.

"Well, no. This is a coed dorm. No one cares."

"A coed dorm?! What has the future come to?"

"Oh, honey, you have no idea." You make your way to the elevator and ride up to your floor. When you get to your door, you realize you're going to have to come up with a story for your roommate.

"Okay. You're an ETA. Follow my lead."

"I'm sorry. A what?"

"Elvis tribute artist. Impersonator. Basically you're a guy that likes to dress up as you." He laughs.

"That exists?"

"Ha. Yeah. Try not to ask too many questions." You put your key in the door and open it carefully. Hopefully, Katie is already in bed and you won't have to have this conversation.

But she's not.

"And just what kind of hour do you call- oh. Hello." She stops her sarcastic greeting when she realizes you're not alone.

"Katie, this is... John. John, this is Katie, my roommate."

"Nice to meet you, Katie." He extends his hand and she takes it slowly. She turns to you.

"I didn't expect you to pick up a stray in Tupelo."

"Yeah, well, look at him. How could I say no?" Her eyes wander back to Elvis and she shrugs.

"I can't say that I blame you. Okay, well, you two don't have too much fun. I'm going to bed now that I know you're home safely." She turns and heads into her bedroom. Thankfully, you live in a suite style dorm, so you each have your own room. You gesture for him to follow you and head into your room.

"You're going to have to stay in here with me. If you sleep on the couch, it'll be too weird. I'm sorry."

"Does she think...? Is this something you do a lot?" He looks at you with a glint in his eye.

"I mean, not a lot. No. Honestly, like never." You feel yourself blush and you look at your feet. He puts his hand under your chin and tips your face up to look at him.

"It's okay. I'm learning quickly that the future is different. I don't mind staying in here with you." Your stomach flip flops when he touches you and you're overwhelmed with a need for him to kiss you. He seems to feel something too because he turns from you and clears his throat.

You go to your drawers and dig for something he can wear. Luckily, you wear a lot of men's sweatpants and oversized t-shirts to sleep, so you get an outfit together for him and show him the bathroom to change. When he comes back out, you laugh. He seems so out of place dressed so casually. You change into pajamas and wash your face, coming back out to find him settled into half of your double bed. You crawl into the bed next to him and he turns over on his side facing you.

"Thank you for taking care of me. You didn't have to do that. You don't know me from Adam."

"Well, I somehow feel like this is my fault. I'm not sure how, but I feel responsible. And I do know you, kind of. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you." He smiles.

"I didn't have much choice. But it's strange. I feel like I know you, somehow. Like we met once and forgot about it. But I know that's not possible. Either way. I'm glad to be here with you." The feeling that you want him to kiss you is back. But he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes and is asleep pretty quickly. You roll over and try to go to sleep too, ignoring the racing thoughts in your head.

You really have Elvis Presley in your bed.

******

When you wake up, you're tucked up under his chin with his arm around you. You're not sure how you got this snuggled up, but it feels nice and for a second you forget who he is. He stirs about the same time you do and stretches, wrapping his arms around you tighter. When you realize the situation, you sit up.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, honey, it was nice." He yawns and pulls you back down to him. You relax against his chest and he kisses the top of your head.

"You don't even know me." You whisper.

"Yes, I do. And I like you. Is that okay?" You nod and wrap your arms around him.

"What are we doing today?" He seems to be taking being stuck in 2007 in stride. What you don't know is that he's actually really grateful for the break from his performance schedule. And he can't explain it, but he knows you somehow. Or at least, that's how it feels.

"Oh, well, I already missed my 9am class, so I guess we will hang out around town. We need to go to the mall and get you some clothes. You can't be wandering around in that ridiculous gold jacket." He laughs.

"What do guys wear these days?" You think about the skinny jeans and band tees and you're not sure what to tell him. This might be harder than you thought.

******

At the mall, you take him to a store that sells guy's clothes and watch him as he marvels at the modern styles. He's immediately drawn to the studded belts and you laugh, thinking of the studded jumpsuits he'll wear in the '70s. You find some jeans that aren't too skinny and he stands looking at the wall of band t-shirts.

"All of these are rock'n'roll groups?!"

"Well, we don't call it that anymore, but pretty much."

"Which ones do you like?" You point to a few of them and tell him about the music you listen to that isn't his.

"Can we listen to them?"

"Of course! But clothes first." You take him to the fitting rooms and he picks out a few pairs of pants and some button down shirts. You also let him pick out a studded belt and he goes with a pink one with silver studs. When you get to the checkout counter, he's absolutely shocked at how much it costs. You assure him that this is normal and pay for his things. As you walk out, he leans over and whispers.

"If I ever get back to '57, I'll never complain about the cost of things ever again." You laugh and take the hand he offers as you walk through the mall. He's amazed at how many stores there are and all the noise and technology that's around you. He keeps stopping and looking at things, so it takes you a while to make it through. He stops at a calendar kiosk and finds a calendar with photos of himself. You quickly yank it away from him and put it back.

"You can't see that."

"Aw, honey, why not?"

"I can't let you learn anything about your future." He looks at you with concern.

"Is it that bad?"

"Well, not exactly. I just don't want to ruin anything for you. You have to live it."

"If I ever get back."

"You must, or this calendar wouldn't exist. We'll figure something out." He puts his arm around your shoulders as you move on through the mall.

When you get back to the car, you pull a cd from the holder on your car visor and put it in for him to listen to. His eyes widen as the fast-paced drums and guitar chords start.

"Wow."

"This is what you started. You made this happen."

"It's so... it's a lot. But I like it. A lot." He starts moving to the music and you laugh.

"I'd love to see these guys live."

"I have. It's pretty great." He looks at you with envy as you start to sing along to the music. Somewhere inside him, he kind of hopes you won't be able to find a way for him to get back. Everything in this time intrigues him and the thought of leaving you is certainly not appealing, especially once he hears you sing.

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

Until Chapter 2!

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know!

[dr-spectre]

What are your headcanons on each of the idols' families?

For example: I headcanon the Squid Sisters to be the daughters of that one cuttlefish idol group; with Marie being the kid of the one in blue while Callie is the kid of the one in pink.

(I'd especially would love to know your headcanons on Marina's family since there's ZERO mention of them)

My headcanons on each of the idols' families? Hmm, that's a very interesting question.

I feel like Callie and Marie's parents used to be idols themselves, and that's why they made them sing at folk singing competitions when they were kids. They probably didn't force them to do it either as Callie and Marie have a genuine passion for music and they never speak poorly about their parents. So it all worked out in the end for them. Maybe their parents were the Idols you are talking about, that is an interesting theory/headcanon.

Pearl's parents to me, probably suck and are just pompous rich assholes. Standard typical rich parents that treat their child as a toy they can put their money into and not their love. I think they might have been the reason on why Pearl decided to become a punk rocker for a bit, because she wanted to rebel and say "MAN SCREW YOU MUM AND DAD!!!!!!"

Now Marina's parents/family? I think they were just never in the picture to be honest. They just raised her to be a perfect solider and nothing more, because Octarian society is always in a state of collapse so... There's no room in their eyes to properly raise a child unfortunately...

Maybe it explains why Marina becomes so in love with Pearl, because she's the only person in her life who has given her any sort of love and respect.... No wonder she fucking freaks out when Pearl even remotely suggestions Off the Hook breaking apart in the Final Fest dialogue.... I'm gonna leave it there before i start feeling sad for my girl Marina.

ANYWAYS! Shiver's parents/family

I feel like they are the very distant and cold type of parents. They probably didn't treat her all that warmly and they disciplined her a lot so that she can become a powerful shark tamer. I don't Shiver's parents were physically abusing her or anything, i think they were just being VERY strict with her and not being the most lovey dovey parents out there you know?

It might explain why Shiver calls herself cold blooded but she still desperately wants to hang out with her high school buddies Frye and Big Man.... She didn't get that warm attention she needed as a kid and now seeks it badly as an adult....

I headcanon Shiver as a lonely person who struggles with loneliness and doesn't know how to properly show her love to others. She tried to set up a hang out plan for FrostyFest as shown by the dialogue but... it didn't pan out as she wanted... It probably destroyed her...

Damn... I'm getting real sad with these huh? HAHAHA! Okay, no more sad shit.

Frye's family is probably amazing and quite large. I can imagine get-togethers to be humongous and Frye loves to see her family. She has such a strong connection to her siblings and i bet her parents too. Frye probably has the best relationship with her family out of any of the 7 Idols.

I mean look at this joyful little fella, she must have had great parents to make her end up into becoming this happy little gal.

Big Man? I'm gonna be honest, i got nothing for him...

He's my least favourite Idol and i genuinely don't care enough about him to come up with headcanons. I'm so sorry Big Man fans. He aint a pretty cephalopod woman so i don't care (I'm joking.)

[starkstruck27]

Day 7 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!! I can't believe after today, the event I spent months preparing for is already gonna be over. I'm so glad I took part and I'm so glad for the positive feedback here, on Ao3, and just in general. I hope this final entry is as well received as the others, even though it is the saddest. It's also the longest, and it's my favorite of all of them. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Prompt: Angst - Love Letters Title: A Memory Gilded in Red and Gold Word Count: 14098 words TWs: Major character death, Child abuse, Survivor's guilt

It was July 8th, 1985. Four days after the shit hit the fan at Starcourt mall. And only two days after Billy Hargrove’s funeral. 

His dad had skipped town before his casket was even fully in the ground, taking most of his and Susan’s joint bank account with him, and leaving her and Max with practically nothing. They couldn’t afford to stay in their house anymore, and they couldn’t afford the trip back to California either, so their only option was to move into the trailer park by the end of the month and try to pick up the pieces and move on. Susan was pretty much nothing but a shell lately, the shock of losing her stepson and husband in a matter of days was really taking its toll. And Max wasn’t faring much better. She was even more quiet than usual, but trying to pretend that she was okay, and it wasn’t a very convincing act. Especially when she almost broke into tears as El told her they were moving away, too. She must’ve felt like anyone who meant anything to her was leaving her all at once, which is why Steve, Robin and the boys didn’t need to be asked twice to help them pack up the stuff on Cherry Lane before the move.

They were making good progress for the first day, packing up the things they could in the living room and getting rid of whatever Susan and Max said they no longer wanted. The house wasn’t big, so after a day, they had everything in the living room, kitchen, bathroom and Susan’s bedroom packed up and ready to go. The second day, though, was going to be the hard part.

Max couldn’t even look in the direction of Billy’s room, much less step into it, and Susan had to go to a job interview that day, so Steve had come up with a plan. Robin would help Max pack up her clothes and do her best to cheer her up, and the boys would take shifts with her so that she didn’t feel as lonely. Steve was in charge of most of the stuff in Billy’s room, as well as providing pizza for lunch and promising a trip to the arcade later on to reward them for a hard day’s work. It was all going well, and they were just about halfway done with both rooms when Dustin came to Steve, complaining that his headset got caught on something under Billy’s bed and he couldn’t get it out.

“What were you doing under the bed?” Steve asked, rolling his eyes.

“I was looking to see if there was anything under it that we would need to pack up, duh! There was nothing but exposed springs and dust bunnies, though, and my headset got caught on something, but now I can’t get it!” Dustin explained, pulling Steve further into the room and over to the bed. 

“Alright, alright, just give me a flashlight and I’ll have it out in a jiff,” Steve said, and once said flashlight was in his hand, he got down on the floor and started crawling under the bed. He shimmied his way in and finally found Dustin’s headset caught on one of the exposed springs of the old mattress. He managed to get it free after pulling on the spring, and was about to wiggle his way back out when something else caught his eye in the dull beam of the flashlight. There was a rip in the lining of the mattress, and hanging out of it was an envelope, fat with papers. Curious, Steve grabbed it, and when he pulled it out of the lining, he was surprised to see his own name written on it.

“Pizza’s here!” Robin called from the living room, startling Steve and making him hit his head as he finally came back to reality and continued to squirm his way out from under the bed. He took the envelope with him and quickly tucked it into his jacket so he could check it out later.

“What’s that?” Dustin asked as he came back out, pointing to Steve’s jacket.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Go eat your pizza, we still have a lot of work to do before we’re done, so you need to keep that energy up,” Steve said, and followed him to the living room so they could get something to eat.

After lunch, it only took them another hour or two to get everything out of the last two rooms, except for the big furniture, which Mr. Sinclair and a couple of his work friends offered to come help with the following day. They took the donation boxes to Steve’s car and then everyone piled into it, too, Steve and Robin taking the kids to the arcade, promising they’d meet up with them after dropping off the boxes at the Goodwill. Everybody had pretended not to see it when Max snuck a few little trinkets out of the boxes of Billy’s stuff, and nobody mentioned it as she stuck them in her backpack. It almost made Steve feel bad for donating the stuff, but it wasn’t his decision, so after he dropped the kids off at the arcade, he and Robin continued on to the donation entrance of the Goodwill. They gave it all to the guy who was responsible for donations, and then they went back to the arcade, standing and watching as the kids played games and tried their best to cheer Max up. At one point, they even conned Steve into getting them slushies from the snack bar, so he and Robin hopped in the line and waited as the kids continued to play.

“Okay, seriously, what’s going on with you?” Robin asked as they waited, “You’ve seemed kind of lost in thought since lunchtime and you keep checking your jacket, what’s the deal?”

“It’s nothing, really,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Yes it is. I know you by now, Steve, and c’mon, we said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other anymore, so spill,” Robin insisted, crossing her arms.

“Okay, fine, you’re right, but just wait until we get our slushies and then I’ll tell you, okay? C’mon, we’re next,” Steve said, taking a step forward and starting to rattle off their order to the guy behind the counter. Five minutes and six slushies later, and he and Robin were off in an empty corner of the arcade, and Steve took the envelope out of his pocket, showing it to her.

“I went under Billy’s bed to get Dustin’s headset earlier, and when I was coming back out, I found this sticking out of the lining,” he said, handing her the envelope.

“What do you think is in it?” She asked, turning it over and examining it.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want to. I feel kinda weird for taking it. Like, on the one hand, it has my name on it, and I don’t know any other Steve Harringtons, so it’s obviously meant for me. But on the other hand, why didn’t he just give it to me, unless he didn’t want me to have it?”

“Maybe he was going to, but he never got the chance,” Robin shrugged, taking a sip of her slushy.

“Maybe, but also, why was it under his bed, hidden in his mattress lining? That’s a weird place to put an envelope you’re planning on sending,” Steve said.

“Well, Max told us about how his dad was always looking through his stuff. Maybe that was the only place he could hide it that he wouldn’t find it until he could give it to you.”

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed, “I don’t know if I should open it or if I should just toss it. I’ve been going back and forth on it all day.”

“I don’t think you should toss it, but you also don’t have to open it right away. Keep it until you’re ready and then open it and see what’s inside,” Robin said, shrugging and handing the envelope back. “What can it hurt, y’know?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve agreed, putting the envelope back inside his jacket. 

“And as soon as you do open it, call me and tell me what’s inside, because if you don't, the curiosity is gonna kill me!” Robin said, and despite the questionable choice of words, Steve promised he would.

It ended up being that night that he opened it, just a little after midnight. He had tried to just go to sleep after getting home that night, but after a few hours of tossing and turning and wondering what was in that envelope, he finally cracked and decided to open it up and find out.

Inside was a bunch of folded up papers, and as Steve unfolded and examined each one of them, he found that they were letters, all written in the same red pen. Each one was dated, so he arranged them in order on his bed and looked them over. There were nine in total, and Steve was unsure if he really wanted to start reading them or not, but after a few minutes of deliberation, the curiosity finally got the better of him, and he picked up the first one.

October 31st / November 1st, 1984

Dear Steve,

I don’t know why the fuck I’m writing this. It’s Halloween, or, well, technically it’s not, but whatever, that’s a technicality. Either way, it’s some time after Tina’s party, and instead of going out and getting laid, I’m sitting here and writing this. I think I’m kinda drunk, although I shouldn’t be, I hardly had anything to drink tonight, including at the keg stand. Beating your record was easy, it was nothing compared to the record I held out in California. You small town hicks can’t drink for shit. So if I’m drunk, I don’t know how I got there.

Anyway, back to what I was planning on writing. I don’t understand you. I mean, I heard so much about you in the halls at school and from Tommy, but I must’ve walked past you a hundred times and I never would’ve known it. It wasn’t until Tommy pointed you out at the party tonight that I really noticed you. And I guess some of what I’ve been told is true, but I don’t believe all of it. For instance, I was told about your “unbeatable” keg record. Hah.

Still, I guess some things were true. You’re annoying, for one. Seriously, Tommy announces you’ve been dethroned and you just walk away? You could’ve had at least a little bit of a reaction, tried to insult me or something, but you didn’t, and I think that was very rude of you. Not that I care about being the new “king” of the school, but still. 

Another thing is you seem popular with the ladies. When your girl stormed out on you tonight, I saw at least three other girls follow you out the door, trying to catch up, they all wanted a piece of you. Not that I blame them, you’re pretty good looking and you do have great hair. I’d want to date you if I was a girl. Or maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m kinda drunk. 

Anyway, I guess I say all this to say, you’re not exactly what I expected of you from all the stories I’ve heard. You’re quite the enigma, Steve Harrington, you make me curious. I want to know more about you. What’s your middle name? Do you like pineapple on pizza? What’s your favorite Cheech and Chong movie? Personally, I like ‘Up in Smoke’. Seriously, ‘Earache my Eye’? That’s the story of my life, man. How they came up with that song, I’ll never know but it’s hilarious.

Anyway, I’m tired, and I’ve got to drive Max around tomorrow, so I better try and curb this hangover while I can. Goodnight, I guess. 

-Billy

P.S. I just realized you don’t know who Max is, but she’s my annoying little stepsister, so there you go.

Steve didn’t know what he expected from these letters, but that was certainly the last thing he’d thought he’d find. He had no idea Billy had thought about him like that from the beginning. He seemed almost friendly in that letter, like they could’ve ended up friends if either of them had given it half a chance. Which only made him wonder, why didn’t they? It could’ve been completely different, things could have played out so much better, but they didn’t, and it only made him more curious as to why as he picked up the next letter, trying to find some answers.

December 22nd, 1984

Dear Steve,

Once again, I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m not drunk this time, but I might as well be. I’m not an alcoholic, I swear, but sometimes things in life are just easier to take when you’re drunk. That beating I gave your face a month ago, for example, that might not have hurt as much as I assume it did if you had been drunk. And this fucking holiday coming up, I swear, if my dad and Max weren’t watching me like hawks, I’d be blitzed through until New Year’s. But life sucks, so I guess I have to just fucking deal with it.

Oh, and speaking of beating you up, I’m sorry about that. I saw you driving that kid to the stupid dance at the middle school when I was dropping Max off earlier tonight, and I wanted to get out and say it to you in person, but I chickened out. She made me promise not to mess with any of you anymore, and that combined with the fact that you’d probably tell me to go fuck myself and we’d just end up fighting again anyway made me drive off without saying anything. 

But I did want to apologize. I had no right to hurt you like that. It really wasn’t you I was mad at, it was mostly my dad. He put me in charge of Max, but she snuck out and maybe I should’ve realized that, but I never signed up to be her babysitter. It was just kinda thrust on me when our parents got married, and only after we moved here. I guess they wanted to keep both of us in line, and keeping us accountable for the other was their way of doing it, but I was the only one that ever got in trouble if either of us did something wrong, so it was a rigged system anyway. And when they got home that night and found her missing, of course it was my job to go find her. This was after my dad shoved me up against a wall and slapped me across the face for “losing” her. So you can see my frustration. Still, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I was wrong for that, but I couldn’t hit my dad back, so when you hit me, I just snapped. And yeah, I started it by pushing you, but I knew there would be more to come if I didn’t get Max home, so I just wanted to get her and go, and you were in the way.

Anyway, I’m sorry about all of that. Maybe one of these days, I’ll get the courage to say that to your face, but I doubt it. Max would have my balls in a blender if I even tried to get close enough to talk to you, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear from, anyway.

But anyway, back to what I was saying. I wish I was drunk right now. I hate Christmas. I hate pretending to be a happy family so that Susan can send out Christmas cards to all her friends (Susan is my stepmom, by the way). I hate watching Max open gift after gift on Christmas morning while I get a pack of socks, a stick of deodorant, and maybe a new book, if I’m lucky. Mostly I just get ignored while she gets doted on. And it’s not like I’m jealous that she gets presents or anything, I’m just pissed that I have to pretend to care and act like I’m not hurt that they didn’t care enough about me to get anything. And most of all, I hate all the reminders that Christmas is a time to be spent with family. I don’t have one of those anymore, not since I was ten.

I mean, I still have my dad, and Susan, and Max. But they don’t exactly count. Dad is an asshole, but he’s the only one who stayed with me after everything. Susan doesn’t look at me, she turns a blind eye to everything, but I guess that’s the only way she can cope with being married to a tyrant. And Max, well, you know Max. She’s stubborn, got a real mouth on her, and she acts like the rules don’t apply to her. I know a lot of people have dead families or their families are a lot worse than mine, but still, there are a lot of people who have a lot better, and it makes me wonder, how did they manage to get that lucky? It just doesn’t seem fair.

And even through all this, the holiday might still be bearable, if I could just see my mom again. She’s the reason I lost my family when I was ten. She left that year, she couldn’t handle my dad anymore, and I always wondered why she never took me with her. She was my best friend, she took care of me. She read me bedtime stories and embroidered flowers on my clothes. She called me ‘mi pequeño amor’, which means ‘my little love’ in Spanish. There was no doubt in my mind that she loved me, so why, when she couldn’t stand living with my dad anymore, did she leave me behind? 

Sorry, I didn’t mean to just dump all that out on you. Although, I don’t know whether I’ll ever give you this letter or not, so I guess I don’t need to apologize. I mean, I want to, but I never gave you the last one, either, and if I ever do, you’ll probably think I’m insane or something, so I probably won't. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. Merry Christmas, Steve.

-Billy

After reading the second letter, Steve practically dove for the third one, needing more information and needing it now. He had no idea so much was going on in Billy’s life. He suddenly felt like a world-class jerk for ever thinking anything bad about Billy, when he really had no clue what was going on behind closed doors. He had to know how things played out the way they did, and he had seven more letters waiting to explain it to him.

January 4th, 1985

Dear Steve,

Happy New Year. I know that was a few days ago, but today was our first day back at school, and I didn’t get to tell you in person, so here you go. I also still haven’t apologized, and I feel like a dick for this, but I don’t think I ever will. I mean, you seem pretty set on avoiding me as much as you can, and I guess I don’t blame you. I’d avoid me too, given our past encounters. But as much as I get it, I also kind of hate it. I still want to know more about you, but there’s only so much I can learn by watching you from afar. Wow, that sounded creepy, but I swear, it’s not. I’m a people-watcher by nature, so that’s where this is stemming from. 

Anyway, I did learn a few things. For one, you’re a sweater guy. I saw you around town a few times during the break, and every single time, you were in a soft, expensive looking sweater. Two, you have a freakishly close friendship with that kid, Henderson. Don’t get me wrong, he seems like an okay kid, better than Max at least, but frankly, I don’t understand it. But if it makes you happy, I guess that’s good. Better one weird friend than a hundred fake ones, right? And finally, three, (and I could be way off on this one, but) you seem kinda lonely. I mean, other than Henderson. But if ever he’s off with Max and their other little friends, you always look a little lost. You look like that in the hallway, too. I know it’s not how you always look, because when you were with that Wheeler chick, you never looked like this. And as soon as you broke up for good, that’s when it started. I’m sorry you’re lonely, I know how that feels.

I wish there was something I could do about it. I could lie and say that I don’t know why I wish I could change it for you, but since I’ve already decided I’m probably never going to give you these letters I write, I might as well just come out with it. Hah, see, I made a joke. I hope you understand what I’m getting at, but if you don’t get it yet, I’m rambling to try and brush over the fact that I have a thing for you. Yep, cat’s out of the bag now. 

I could also lie again and say I don’t know when it started, but I think I can pinpoint the exact moment that I started thinking of you like this. It was the first time I saw you, at Tina’s party. I didn’t know who you were, exactly, until Tommy said it, and then I think I started trying to hate you just because of who you were, but I just couldn’t. I knew I liked you and I knew I would do something stupid about it, like maybe giving you one of these letters, if I didn’t make you hate me first. It was like reverse psychology or something, make you hate me so that I’d hate you back and then I wouldn’t ever do anything about my crush on you. Maybe that’s stupid, but hey, it worked, kind of.

But anyway, earlier today, as we were walking down the halls, I felt really sorry for you. Jeez that sounds terrible, but I just mean that it made me sad that you were so lonely. I don’t want you to be lonely. If I could, I’d be by your side always, just so that you’d know someone was there. I’d be your best friend and do everything I could to make you smile instead of sulk all day. But I guess it’s too late now. I showed you my mean streak, and now you don’t want anything to do with me. God, I’d do absolutely fucking anything to change that.

Yours, Billy

The third letter hit Steve like a train. He could feel tears forming in his eyes as he read it, and now that he was done, they had started falling. How could he have not noticed Billy had a crush on him? Why didn’t he try to rectify their relationship after the fight himself? Maybe then they’d have ended up friends and things would’ve been different. He wouldn’t have been lonely, and then Billy wouldn’t have had to notice it, and everything might’ve changed. He didn’t know, and he never would. He picked up the next letter.

February 10th, 1985

Dear Steve,

I wanna set the record straight. I don’t hate Max. I really don’t. From what I’ve heard from people who have real siblings, she’s pretty much the standard. They’re hard-headed, stubborn, a bit of a bitch, but when it comes down to it, they stick by your side. That’s pretty much how she acts with me, although, maybe it’s different with stepsiblings, because sometimes it’s different. When my dad is beating on me, for example, she never jumps in and tries to defend me, or says it’s her fault, even if it is. Granted, I don’t think I’d want to get into that situation, either, but still. And as for today, when you saw us arguing in the car and gave me that look, that was something else entirely.

See, she was asking me what I’d get for someone I cared about for a valentine’s gift. She was hell-bent and determined to get something for the Sinclair kid, but she didn’t want to just do a card, she actually wanted to get him something. And I told her not to get anything. For one, she’s the girl, and as much as I’m all for equality and all that, I still think that it’d be better if she was the one getting the gift. Her mom is kinda old-fashioned, thinks that girls should all still wear dresses and be demure, polite little shells, even though that mentality was left behind in the sixties. 

And the other thing is, if Max came home with a valentine’s gift for someone, one of our parents would inevitably ask who it was for, and Max doesn’t know better than to tell them the truth. It’s the main reason I tried to scare Sinclair away from her, because if he steps one foot onto our property and asks for Max, he’s done for, and so am I. Apparently, both of our parents are stuck in the 1950s, when women were “proper” and when black people could be killed for so much as looking at a white person. And, of course, if Sinclair did end up getting her a valentine or vice versa, Max wouldn’t see the problem with saying so when we got home, and guess who would end up with a beating for “not protecting” her from him?

So, I know I haven’t been the nicest to Max, or to Lucas, but you can understand why, right? I don’t take pleasure in scaring off kids, and I don’t enjoy playing the bully to either of them. But I also don’t enjoy people getting hurt for the hell of it, which is what would happen if I didn’t try to keep them apart. And I’ve tried explaining it to Max a few times before, but she’s still living in Wonderland where everything is nice and her stepdad wouldn’t kill her boyfriend just for talking to her. So I’m doing what I can to keep all of us safe, no matter how unpleasant it may seem. 

Truth be told, it upsets me just as much as it does them. I think Lucas could be really good for Max, and I think it’s great that she has friends like him and the rest of their crew. They might be annoying and a pain in the neck, but I think they work together because of that. And Max deserves some good friends. She didn’t ask to be in this situation anymore than I did, but we’re both here, and I just wish she would understand it a bit more to make it easier on both of us. And I know I said I didn't consider her family a couple letters ago, but really, the way things are now, she's the closest thing I've got, and I guess I kinda love her for that, no matter how it might seem to anyone else. I guess we just show our affection in different ways.

Anyway, I gotta go now, I gotta talk her out of buying Sinclair a new radio so they can keep in better contact. 

Yours, Billy

P.S. Fuck it, change that “Yours” to a “Love”. It is almost V-day, after all.

This was starting to become a bit much for Steve. He didn’t know how to take all this new information about Billy. He’d spent so much time hating him, judging him, dismissing him, that he never even thought to look below the surface and try to understand if there was more to the story. He never thought that to protect someone, you might have to be a little mean to them, but now, he supposed a lot of things made sense in a way that they didn’t before. And suddenly, he found himself wanting to learn everything he could about Billy Hargrove.

March 31st / April 1st, 1985

Dear Steve,

It’s currently 11:58 at night when I’m writing this, and the clock is about to change again. So, fun fact about me, I guess, did you know that I was supposed to be born on April 1st? At least, that’s what the baby book my mom made for me said. My dad threw it out years ago, but I remember that part of it. I was supposed to be born on April 1st, 1967, but that’s not my birthday. It was actually a few days ago, March 29th, and I turned 18, finally. I came out early, I guess I didn’t want to be seen as a joke for the rest of my life. Hah.

I still feel like a joke, though. Maybe the due date was more fitting than I realized. I guess it’s hard not to feel like your whole life is a joke when life is constantly making you the punchline. Literally. 

See, around my birthday every year, my dad gets more pissy than normal. He’s always in a bad mood, that’s just his default state, but when the reminder that I’m alive comes around, he always ends up even more upset than normal. But this year was different. My birthday was on a Friday this year, and Susan decided to buy me a cake. It’s the first time she’s ever done that for my birthday. Max gets one every year, but this was the first time she got one for me. She went to Melvald’s and had them put my name on it in icing and everything. She even got it in my favorite color, blue. She said it was a milestone birthday for me, so she wanted to make it special. She put it in the fridge and said we’d have it after dinner.

But then my dad came home. He took a nap in his chair first, and then Susan woke him up for dinner. We had chicken, like we do almost every night. Dad can’t eat a lot of red meat or seafood because he has gout, and the beer doesn’t help either, so he gave up one vice for another, and it’s been chicken ever since. I'm so damn tired of chicken. But Susan tried to make it special, she added all kinds of spices and served it with noodles and a special sauce, and it was actually pretty good. But dad didn’t like it. He said there was too much going on and it made it disgusting. He likes his food bland, but Max and I liked it. We’ll never eat it again.

Anyway, after we finished, Susan got out the cake, and she put it on the table before going to get a knife. I’m really glad she waited and didn’t just bring it all out at once, because before she even got halfway back to the kitchen, Dad stopped her in her tracks. He asked what the hell the cake was for, and she must’ve been scared to death, because she couldn’t even stutter out a lie, and then my dad turned on me and asked why in the fuck I’d ask for a cake when I didn’t deserve it and I knew they didn’t have any money to spend on one. He said I was an ingrate and that I was spoiled, and then he took the cake and threw it on the ground, and it was ruined. You can see why I was glad he didn't have access to a sharp object right then, right? Then he told Susan to come with him, they had to have a talk, and then he told me that the floor better be cleaned up by the time he gets back. Then, he had the gall to apologize to Max for having to see that, and then he and Susan disappeared back into their bedroom. 

I cleaned up the cake and Max helped me, although neither of us said a word to each other as we did. She just took the plastic and as much of the cake as she could and threw it out, then handed me some paper towels and I finished cleaning up the floor. I didn’t even thank her for her help, I just told her to go to her room when it was done because she didn’t want to be there when dad came back out. And I’m glad that she listened for once, because I was right. 

Susan stayed in their room and Dad came back out then, and the first thing he did was go to the fridge and get another beer. He was kind of limping, so his gout must’ve been having a flare up and that made him even more miserable than usual, so I knew nothing good was to come. He opened his beer and drank at least half of it, and then he set it down and he came for me.

See, here’s the thing about my dad. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. If he’s upset, he’s gotta make everyone else upset. If he’s in pain, he’s gotta make someone else hurt, too. And that someone else is usually me. I don’t know why he’s like this. And it kinda fucks me up to think about it, because I should love him. He was the only one who stayed with me my whole life. He’s half the reason I exist in the first place. He fed me and put clothes on my back and always made sure we had a roof over our heads, and I should be grateful. But he also drove my mom away, and he likes to beat on me, and he blames everything that goes wrong in his life on me. And I want to love him, I want to be happy to say that he’s my dad and that he always took great care of me, but it’s just not true, and I hate it. 

Anyway, when he was half done with his beer, he came at me. He grabbed me by the collar and marched me to my room, and he slapped me around a bit and asked again why I thought it was okay to ask for a cake even though I knew we were struggling with money. I said I didn’t ask for one, Susan surprised me with it, but he didn’t believe me. He told me not to talk back to him and lie on top of it, and I wanted to say more, but he never gave me a chance. It would’ve only made things worse, anyway. So he keeps hitting me and lecturing me about how I’m an adult now and I need to be responsible for myself. It’s been the same lecture since I was ten. Respect and responsibility. Over and over he’s drilled it into my head, and over and over he says I haven’t learned my lesson and that’s why he does what he does. 

Anyway, to make a long story short, I ended up with a black eye and was locked in my room for the rest of the weekend. Apparently, I also have to start paying rent now that I’m 18, so I have to start looking for jobs tomorrow. And he said that since I think we have money to burn on extravagant food, I wasn’t going to be allowed to eat until the weekend was over. Max snuck me a turkey sandwich yesterday night and I keep emergency food in here just for this reason, but it still fucking sucked. 

I wanted to write this sooner, but I was so angry I could hardly think, so I waited. I didn’t know if I should write anything at all, because I’ve never told anyone about what goes on at home before, but I had nothing else to do in here, so I finally just did it. Besides, I wanted to tell somebody, even if I know it’s just myself. 

So, I guess I’ll sign off here. I have to try and get to bed now anyway, since we have school tomorrow. That’s the best birthday present I’ve gotten this year, the fact that I get to leave the house again and even though I know we won’t talk to each other, I’ll get to see you. I’ve missed you.

Love, Billy

There were only four letters left, and even though he was going to push through, it was getting hard for Steve to read them. The last one had left him crying like a baby, so much so that his eyes were blurred and he had to hold the paper away from his face to keep from smudging the ink. He felt like with every new thing he learned about Billy, more questions were brought to the surface, and he wasn’t liking the way any of them were answered. But he had come this far, and there were only four left, so he kept on.

May 17th, 1985

Dear Steve,

Today was actually a pretty good day. I wasn’t planning on writing anything, but I just realized that when I write you these letters, I only end up telling you the bad things going on in my life, and even though I’ve been able to learn a lot about you, you haven’t learned much about me. I mean, you know what my favorite color is and which is my favorite Cheech and Chong movie, but other than that, you don’t know much, so here we go.

First off, as of today, I now work at the community pool. I went down and got an application, and after meeting the manager, I got a job as a lifeguard. I have to renew my CPR certification at the YMCA before I can start, but I can get that done easily and be all ready to go when the pool opens on Memorial Day. I’m really excited about it, I haven’t been in a pool since before the move, and it’s not quite as good as the ocean, but it’s the next best thing. And now I can start making more money to pay my dad and to save up and get my own place, maybe. It’s gonna take a while, but that’s the goal. 

And the pool job is only gonna be temporary. Are you planning on going to college after graduation? I don’t think I’m going to. It’s a waste of money, I don’t need a fancy piece of paper telling me I sat through classes of things I already knew, so no college for me. I’m gonna go right into the workforce as soon as I graduate. I know a little bit about cars, at least enough to build my own basically from scratch, so I’m gonna try and get a job at a mechanic shop and work my way up the ranks and just learn on the job. I think that’s the best thing for me.

Oh, and speaking of graduation, I don’t know if I’m even gonna go to ours. I’ll still get the diploma in the mail, and I’d rather not spend a week practicing standing and sitting on cue just to have no one show up to clap when I walk the stage. It’s pointless. Although, I’d get to sit next to you and neither of us would have a choice in the matter, and it might be the last chance I get to be that close to you. Not in a creepy way, either. I just mean we would see each other way less often and I want to get my fill of you before that happens. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go, I’ve still got time to decide.

By the way, I had a dream about you the other night. It wasn’t dirty or anything, although I wouldn’t have minded that, but that’s not what it was. Basically, I was in this aquarium, walking down a hallway into this room. It was the coolest room ever, all four walls were part of just one big tank and so was the ceiling, so that it felt like you were inside the tank, and it was all filled with jellyfish. Most of them were bioluminescent, so there was very little light in the room, other than the light emitted from the jellyfish, and it was just beautiful. They were all different colors and sizes, and it was so pretty. And as I walked into the room, I saw you standing there, just watching the jellyfish float around with a content look on your face, and when I walked up to you, you smiled. I went up and all I said was hi, and you said it back, but you called me ‘babe’. Then you kissed me, and it only lasted a second, then you turned back and kept watching the fish. And I could actually feel my heart beating in my sleep, and I kept glancing over at you until finally you smiled and laughed and said ‘okay, okay, I can take a hint’, and you went back to watching the fish, but then you grabbed my hand and held it, and we just stood there together until I woke up. It only felt like a minute or two, but it had to have been hours, because when I woke up, I realized I had slept through my alarm and was almost late to school. I’m really gonna miss you once school is over, Steve.

Anyway, what else can I tell you about me? I guess I told you a couple things already. I like to swim, and I like working on cars. But I said I was gonna tell you more, so here we go.

First of all, I like to read. I know, I don’t really seem like a reader, do I? But there’s something safe about books, you can hide in their worlds when your own becomes too much. My current favorite is one I found a few years ago in a little shop in California, it’s called “Annie on my Mind”. I can’t remember the author’s name, but it’s a fantastic book. It’s about two girls named Annie and Liza who meet in a museum in New York City and become best friends, and after a while, they fall in love. It’s not easy, and they break up when Liza goes off to school and has to leave Annie behind, but just before it ends, they call each other and end up getting back together. It’s a sappy rom-com, but it’s so beautiful, and reading it three years ago at 15, it gave me hope for my own future. Maybe one day I’d find my own Annie. I like to think that if I ever got the courage to go for it, maybe you could be my Annie. You fit the description to a T.

But enough of the mushy stuff now. Seriously, mushrooms are gross, I hate them. That’s another thing about me, I guess. I’m not picky with my food, not really, but if there’s one thing I just can’t stomach, it’s mushrooms. Not even on pizza, and everything tastes good on pizza.

Anyway, the next thing I’ll tell you is my favorite band, at least right now. It changes a lot, but as of right now, it’s Van Halen. They’re great. Something about them, I don’t know, they just make me happy. They’re just silly, I guess. The singer, David Lee Roth, sometimes he’ll just start monologuing randomly in the middle of a song, and if you ever see pictures of them in magazines or something, the guitarist, Eddie Van Halen, he’s just always smiling. They’re great, and I love them. I hope I can get a chance to see them in concert someday.

Anyway, I’m running out of ideas of things to tell you. There’s not a whole lot of room for individuality in my life, especially with my dad constantly going through my stuff to try and find either money or another reason to rag on me, but I’ve got two more things. 

One, I think that old movies are the best kind of movies. Especially if they’re B movies. There’s something so simple about the humor, it’s all slapstick, and I think horror and mystery movies are so much creepier when they’re done in black and white. I don’t know if I can pick a favorite, but the Miss Marple movies that came out in the sixties will always hold a special place in my heart (and yes, I realize that I’m about as old as these movies, but they’re at least 20 years old, so they count as ‘old’). 

Two, Billy is actually not my real name. I mean, it is, but it’s not. I was named after my dad, and William is actually my middle name. Still, I never liked the name Neil, and it was confusing having two Neils in the house when I was growing up, so my mom started calling me by my middle name, shortened it to Billy, and then it just stuck. Now that I’m legally an adult, I’m going to get my name officially changed, I just have to save up the money. I can now that I have a job, so hopefully soon, it’ll be done.

Anyway, this letter is getting kinda long, so I should probably wrap it up soon. I didn’t mean to ramble all that time, but I just like being able to tell you things. I haven’t ever really told anyone anything about me that they didn’t need to know, not even some of my friends from back in California, but I feel like I can tell you anything. I guess that’s kinda silly, but whatever. Somehow it still feels like you’re listening, like you’re hearing me, and that’s all I need.

Love, Billy

P.S. I remembered that author’s name, it’s Nancy Garden.

The last letter had been a little bit lighter than the previous few, and it made it a little easier to read it. At least he’d been able to stop crying while reading it. It even made him smile a little, until he got to the part about graduation. He remembered that day, Billy hadn’t shown up. He swore he saw him by the bleachers on their way to the football field for the ceremony, but he had never been sure. He always assumed Billy was just being aloof and blowing it off to be an asshole. Now he knew better, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked knowing. On the one hand, it was nice to understand Billy, but on the other hand, it was a tremendous burden. He’d never be able to discuss that book with him, or sing Van Halen while driving, or watch black and white movies with him. And maybe they never would’ve anyway if Billy were still alive, but now, there wasn’t even a chance. And it wouldn’t have weighed on Steve so much if he were still alive and it never happened, either, because he never would’ve known about any of this to begin with. And now, he just had to live with it as he read the last few letters.

June 14th, 1985

Dear Steve, 

Today was the first time since school ended that I saw you. I had to drive Max and her weird little friend Elle around, and they wanted to go to the mall, so of course I had to waste my gas chauffeuring them around, but even though I was pissed about it at first, it ended up being the best thing that could’ve happened to me today. I was just gonna drop them off and have them meet me back at the doors in a few hours, but as we drove around the building, I saw you walking in through an employee door on the side, and I decided then to park and go in, too. Max demanded to know what I was doing, she must’ve thought I was gonna follow her and her friend around all day, but I just told her that there were a few stores I wanted to check out inside, then left the car before she could ask anything else and told her and her friend to meet me back there in a few hours.

It took me a while to find you, but that was okay. I was able to go around and look at a few of the stores, and there were actually a few decent ones. There was a record store, for one, and I got a new cassette I’ve been looking for, so that was cool. There were also a couple of decent clothing stores, though I doubt they’ll last. The mothers and fathers of Hawkins will probably be too scandalized by anything they sell unless it's also sold at the Gap, so hopefully, I’ll be able to get some things while I can. I don’t make a whole lot at my job, not after I pay my dad for rent, anyway, but I should be able to get a few things by the end of the summer. 

But anyway, back to what I was saying. I walked the whole mall, looking in every store trying to find where you worked, but after a thorough sweep of the whole first floor, you were nowhere to be found. I even pretended to get lost and wandered into the movie theater to see if that’s where you were, but no dice. Then I saw the escalators that led upstairs. I don’t like malls, there’s too big a chance of running into somebody that you know that you don’t want to see, so I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to, but I was determined to see you. I didn’t realize how much I would miss seeing you every day until school ended, and now I feel like if I don’t see your face at least once a week or so, I might lose my mind. I know that sounds stupid considering how little we actually saw each other in school, but it’s the truth.

Anyway, I didn’t want to leave without seeing you, and I knew Max and her friend wouldn’t be done shopping for at least another hour, so I went up to the second floor and started to look around. There wasn’t as much to see up there, mostly just more clothing and shoe stores, but then I passed these two girls, and they were tittering on about how funny and cute it was watching you trying to flirt with them. They each had an ice cream cone in their hands, and I saw the store they got it from a little farther down the hall, and figured that was as good a place as any to try and find you, so I went there. 

Scoops Ahoy! is kind of a stupid name, isn’t it? What does ice cream have to do with sailing, anyway? But whatever, it doesn’t matter, because when I looked in the window, there you were, in all your glory, behind the counter with the silliest outfit on that I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it was just like those girls had said, cute but hilarious, especially that absolutely adorable hat. Kudos to whoever designed those uniforms. And all joking aside, you wore it well. 

Well, I guess you know what happened next, you were there. I went inside and pretended to give a rat’s ass about the girl you were working with and flirted with her, but I was only trying to make you jealous. Which is stupid, right? Because there’s no way you’d ever be into me like that, but I can pretend that your face got all red because you were jealous of her and not because you wanted to flirt with her yourself and I had stolen your thunder. Not that I blame you, she’s got a certain awkward cuteness to her and you would make a sickeningly sweet couple, but you can’t blame a guy for hoping, right? It didn’t matter anyway, I guess I’m not her type, because she dismissed me before I even got going, so I guess you still have a shot.

Anyway, after that, neither of you seemed to want anything to do with me, but your girl was closer to the employee door, so she left and it was just you and me. You asked what I wanted, and to be honest, I wasn’t trying to be a dick when I said I wanted something smooth, sweet and rich, and I wasn’t referring to your coworker, I had just been so distracted up until that point that I hadn’t looked at the flavors yet, so sorry about that. 

You took it well, though, just rolled your eyes and suggested something with entirely too much chocolate, but it was pretty good, and that’s saying something considering I was the one who ate it. I’m usually not a huge fan of ice cream, but whatever you gave me was decent enough. I can’t remember what it was called, but I’m sure it’ll just give me another excuse to start up a conversation with you the next time I come in. It’ll probably be soon, since Max was already talking about going back to the mall when I dropped her and her friend off at the Chief’s house for a sleepover. I guess I don’t really mind wasting my gas carting them around if it means I get to see you again. I just hope that you and that girl aren’t an item by the next time I see you. 

Love, Billy

Steve found himself starting to get teary-eyed again as he finished the last letter, remembering that day he saw Billy in the mall. He’d gotten so upset when he started flirting with Robin, and he’d wanted to smack him when he made that crack about ‘smooth, sweet and rich’. Now he just felt guilty about everything. If ever there was a time he wished he had access to a time machine, it would’ve been now, because maybe he could go back and change things, fix one little thing and make everything better, make it so that Billy didn’t die and they could start all over. Instead, all he could do was keep reading and try to keep himself together as he did.

June 29th / June 30th, 1985

Dear Steve,

I wrecked my car tonight. It was out near the old steel mill, something ran in front of my car and I swerved to avoid it, and I completely ruined her, my baby. I don’t want to tell you where I was going. I shouldn’t have been going there, I shouldn’t have been out there that late at night. I just got so lonely, y’know? And it was nice to feel wanted, even if I knew from the start that nothing good would come from it and that it was wrong on so many levels. But I’ve been pent up and going stir crazy since I last saw you, and I just needed something to get me through until I could. 

Damn, I really built up the suspense there, huh? I guess now I have to tell you. I was going to a motel just a little bit out of town. I was gonna meet Mrs. Wheeler there. She and a few of the other moms that hang out at the pool every day like to flirt with me and sometimes I play into it, because what else is there to do? And it’s not like they’d stop if I asked them to, so sometimes I just decide it’s not worth the battle. I don’t get paid enough to deal with them anyway, so sometimes I just say whatever I can think of to get them to leave me alone. So maybe it was a bad idea for me to suggest it, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. 

But anyway, I was gonna meet Mrs. Wheeler out at a motel, but then that thing ran in front of my car and I wrecked it. I don’t think the thing was hurt, but I was totally freaked out. It was dark and I was alone on this desolate little road and nobody knew where I was at or where I was going and I hit my head and my car wouldn’t start again, so I didn’t know what to do. And I think I hit that thing anyway, because when I got out to look at the damage, there was this weird goo on my car, like animal guts or something, and that just freaked me out even more. But what really got me was that then, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, so whatever I hit, I guess I didn’t kill it, and I don’t know what kind of animals are supposed to be out in those woods, but this thing fucking growled at me, this weird high-pitched screechy kind of growl, and I wanted to get out of there so bad, but I couldn’t. And then I tried to be rational about it, hoping it was a person instead and not some kind of animal and that maybe they could help me, so I asked if anyone was there, but then something grabbed me.

Steve, I don’t know what the fuck it was. All I know is that it grabbed my ankle and was strong enough to pull me backwards and it was fast. Like, faster than any wild animal should have been, especially while dragging me along with it. It pulled me into the abandoned warehouse and tried to drag me down a flight of stairs, but I grabbed the handrails and tried to get away. It gets kinda blurry at this point, but I think I did, and I ran as fast as I could out of that building, and I didn’t even think, I just got back in my car and somehow it was working and I sped away and just drove until I found a phone booth. I called the cops, but I had no idea what the hell had just happened to me, and it was coming back in bits and pieces and I just couldn’t speak. And when I opened my eyes again to try and talk, everything was different. I mean, it was the same, but different. It was freezing, like it was winter instead of summer, and there was this weird dust floating around like snowflakes, and I was so confused that I hung up the phone and went outside. And my car was still there, it was still Hawkins, but somehow, it felt like the fog that hadn’t been there before was staring at me. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but in my head I could hear it laughing at me, like I was a sideshow attraction or something, and it made me feel anxious. And I started screaming at it, like that would do anything, because I had no idea what else to do, and then the sky lit up red from this weird lightning and I had no idea what was happening, just that it wasn’t good, and I was right.

This is the worst part, though. I saw someone walking towards me, and at first I was relieved, because I thought they were coming to help me, but then they got close enough for me to see them through the darkness, and it was me. It was me, but it wasn’t. It looked like me and walked like me, but it’s voice was different, and I know for a fact it wasn’t me, because I was right fucking there and it was speaking to me. I had asked it what it wanted while I was just shouting into the dark, and that thing, it answered me. It said in this dark, deep voice that it wanted to build, that it wanted me to build, and I had no idea what that meant, so I asked it what it wanted me to build, and it just said ‘what you see’. And I said I didn’t understand what that meant, and it didn’t say anything else, it just turned around and walked off. 

And then, the next thing I knew, I was back in my car, and I was on my way home. The crack in the windshield was still there, and it was still dented up, so I knew the accident happened, but now I don’t know what to think. I know I hit my head, so it must’ve just been a really intense dream, but it just felt so real. I could feel everything that happened, and I don’t know why I would dream first and black out second. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know if it’s over or not, but I really hope it is. And this is gonna sound crazy, but on the off chance that whatever happened to me tonight actually was real and it did happen, I hope I die before I see the rest of it pan out. If that other me was real, I don’t want to know what the hell it can do to me or anyone that I care about. 

But I don’t know what’s real anymore. Maybe I’m not even writing this, maybe I’m still passed out in my car on the side of the road somewhere, still dreaming away. Or maybe I died tonight and this is the purgatory/Hell I was sent to. Either way, I hope that after I finish this letter and go to bed, I wake up for real tomorrow and everything is back to normal, or at least I get some answers on whether or not I’m going to spend eternity in that Hellscape I dreamed up.

Love, Billy

This had been the hardest letter of all of them to get through. There were so many things that just made Steve’s stomach turn, and he wasn’t sure which was the worst. For one, Billy must’ve been terrified. To be in a car crash and then to also be faced with what he assumed was the Mind Flayer and then end up facing himself after ending up in the Upside Down? Steve had faced demogorgons, demodogs and even torture from Russian soldiers, but all that seemed like nothing compared to what Billy went through. Not only that, but he hadn’t even known if it was real or not. That would be terrifying in and of itself. And to think that all of this happened because he was going to meet Mrs. Wheeler at some motel. 

Steve had never been very close with Nancy’s mom, but after spending so much time at her house, he liked to think he had a certain knowledge of the way she was. And to now find out that she was planning on having an affair with someone his and Nancy’s age… It made him feel disgusting on so many levels. It would be like if he had a thing for Holly, it was just gross. And Billy had to deal with that on a daily basis, and while he was working, too. And sure, maybe Billy wasn’t exactly innocent in all of this, either, but he was barely an adult, and he shouldn’t have had the opportunity in the first place. The only good thing about Billy getting into that accident was that he never had the chance to meet Mrs. Wheeler. The problem was that he met something much more dangerous.

That point was reiterated as Steve picked up the next letter, before he even started reading. The paper was a little crinkled in some places, like drops of water had hit it, and the pen was smudged in a few spots. It made a pit form in Steve’s stomach as he realized Billy must’ve been crying as he wrote it, and a lump started growing in his throat as he started to read.

July 2nd, 1985

Dear Steve,

I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m scared. Ever since the accident, things haven’t been right, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I know it’s not good. And I know that it involves you, and Max, and Elle, and probably all of their little friends and your girlfriend, too, and probably a lot of other people. 

See, I’m writing this in a moment of lucidity, because lately everything’s been going black and when I wake up, I’m in a whole new place and I don’t know how I got there, and I only have so long before it all goes black again. I never know how long I have, but hopefully I can finish this before I run out of time. If not, I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to finish, because these blackouts are becoming more and more frequent and I think soon they’re gonna take over and I’m not gonna wake back up again. 

I don’t know what this thing is, though. I just know it’s what got me the night I crashed. It hates when it’s warm, and the sun is basically its enemy. I think that’s why that place where I saw myself was so cold. And speaking of seeing myself, I think that, whatever it was, that other me, it takes over when I black out, which is how I go from place to place without knowing it. It’s like a parasite, I guess, it takes you over little by little until there’s nothing left of you. I don’t want that to happen to me, but who could I tell that would A, believe me and B, help me get rid of it? I don’t think anyone would. It’s like the plague, everyone would find out I’m infected and run away screaming, and I’d be left to die all alone. I don’t want to die alone. I don’t want to die period, but it’d be even worse if I was alone when I kicked it.

Anyway, I don’t have much time, so I wanna say some things before I can’t anymore. One, if you ever find these letters, please don’t hate me for the things I say in them. I didn’t mean for it to go this far when I wrote that first one, but after I did, it just became like a journal, I could tell you anything and you’d listen and you’d comfort me just by hearing me. That’s cheesy as hell, but it’s true. I still kinda hope you never find them, but if you do, don’t hate me for them.

Two, if you are reading this, that means you found the letters, and if that’s the case, then I need you to do something for me. I need you to help Max through this. Make sure she’s okay, make sure she stays safe, and make sure as hell that she learns to drive better than the way I did. She better never crash because she was driving recklessly like I did, and if she does, I will personally kick your ass when I see you in the afterlife. And if this thing that’s in me ever goes after her, you better make sure it suffers as it dies, do you understand me? And I know that’s already a lot to ask, but I just need one more thing. As much as we got on each other’s nerves, Max and I needed each other. So if I die, please do what you can to be a big brother for her. Pester her a little bit, pretend you hate it when she demands rides all over town, and above all, be there for her when she needs you, because I know she will. Y’know, now that I think about it, I think I understand your relationship with the Henderson kid now. You’re already his big brother, so just be the same for Max, okay?

Three, make sure the rest of their little gang knows I’m sorry for the things I did to scare them, especially Lucas. I know it sounds like a cop-out, but I really was just trying to protect them. They’re good kids, but I knew they wouldn’t leave Max alone, and if my dad found out she was hanging out with a bunch of boys, it wouldn’t have ended well, for any of us. And as for Elle, I know that whatever this thing is inside me, it has something to do with her. I keep seeing her in my head, and I just hope that she knows that whatever happens, it’s nothing personal. I actually kinda liked her, as far as Max’s friends go, she was the nicest, and she always said thank you whenever I drove them somewhere. She’s a good kid, they all are.

And lastly, whatever happens, don’t feel guilty about it. You’re a great guy, Steve, and I know you think it’s always up to you to be the hero, but if I die, don’t feel bad, because there’s nothing you could’ve done. And even if there was something you could do, don’t feel bad, because even if I die, if you can help save Max and the rest of the kids and your girlfriend and maybe even a few other people, you’ve done more than enough. Don’t worry about me, okay? If this thing can be beaten, I’m gonna beat it, and if I come to after it’s all said and done and you’re mopey because you didn’t get to save me and be the hero, I’m gonna let it get back in me and finish the job.

Wow, actually, scratch that, I didn’t realize how morbid that was until I wrote it down, but the message is the same. If there’s even a chance I can get through this, I will, and that’s that, okay? I’m gonna see your face at the end of this, mopey or not, and when I do, maybe I’ll give you these letters. If I can face whatever this thing is in me, I can face you with a few sheets of paper, right? And if I don’t make it through and you find these letters anyway, know I did everything I could. 

Oh, and one more thing. If I don’t make it, I want you to take my bomber jacket. Y’know, the one I was wearing on that night back in November. You don’t have to wear it, you don’t even have to look at it, just keep it for me, okay? I love that jacket, it was my mom’s, and she gave it to me before she left because I always said how much I liked it. I know that when I’m gone, my dad’s not gonna want to deal with my stuff, so he’ll probably donate most of it and pitch the rest, but I want you to have the jacket. It means too much to me for it to end up at the bottom of a landfill or being sold for two bucks at a thrift store, so if you’d keep it, it would mean a lot to me. And if you want to wear it, please do. It’s kinda corny, but it’d be like giving you my letterman jacket like the guys would do with their girls in the movies. That might make it weird for you to think of it like that, but like I said, you don’t have to wear it. Just keep it for me so I know it’s in good hands.

Anyway, I’m gonna try to wrap this up now so I make sure I finish in time. I’m doing my best to be positive here, but I gotta tell you, every minute that passes as I’m writing this, the more scared I get. I don’t think there’s gonna be a way out of this for me. I just hope I don’t take too many people down with me. I’m sorry if I do. And I’m sorry in general. I wish I wasn’t such a coward and would’ve been able to put aside my pride to make things right with you. I wish we could’ve been friends. I wish I could’ve given you these letters and seen your face as you read them. I wish I would’ve known if you’d hate me for having a crush on you or if you would’ve been nice about it and let me down gently. I wish I would’ve known what your favorite Cheech and Chong movie was, and if you liked pineapple on pizza. I wish I’d have been able to learn your middle name because I asked you, not because I hid under the bleachers on graduation day and waited to hear it. I wish I could stop saying “I wish” and just get to the point. I wish I had all the time in the world to keep coming up with things to say “I wish” about. But I don’t, and I need to cut myself off before I keep saying it and I never say what I really want to say. 

I really care about you, Steve, maybe I even love you. I don’t think I’ll ever know, because I never got the chance to try, and it’s my own fault for fucking things up with you early on. But if it is love that I’ve been feeling all these months, I’m sorry that this is the way you had to find out. I’m really gonna miss you, Steve. And maybe it’s selfish, but I hope you’ll miss me a little bit, too.

All my love (I think), Billy

Steve finished the last letter, and as soon as he did, he scrambled out of bed and down the stairs, heading for the phone in the kitchen. It was a little after two in the morning and he was a mess, tears were streaming down his face and it was going to be hard to talk through the sobs, but he needed to talk to Robin. He punched in her number and tried to calm himself down a little, but it was no use, he only became more hysterical the longer it took for someone to answer. Finally, just before the answering machine would’ve picked up instead, her mom answered, sounding groggy and annoyed as she asked who was calling.

“It’s S-Steve. I’m so sorry, Mrs. B-Buckley, but I need t-to talk to Robin,” he said, rubbing his eyes as he continued to try and calm down.

“Steve, oh my goodness, is everything alright? Did something happen, are you okay?” Mrs. Buckley asked, her annoyance melting away into concern.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Steve said, clearing his throat, “I’m really sorry, ma’am, I just really need to talk to her, please.”

“Okay, honey, just hold on a second and I’ll go wake her up. We’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve said, swallowing as he listened to Mrs. Buckley setting the receiver down and walking away to wake Robin up. A few seconds later and he heard someone picking it back up, followed by a few steps and then the sound of a door closing before Robin finally yawned at him through the phone.

“Steve, it’s two a.m., what-”

“They were letters,” he interrupted, sniffling a little, “In that envelope, they were love letters.”

“Holy shit,” Robin said, both curious and astounded. 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, leaning his back against the wall and then sliding down to sit against it.

“What did they say?” Robin asked.

“Everything,” Steve said, shivering out a sigh, “It started with him saying that he wanted to understand me more, and then the next few said that he was sorry for the thing last November and he told me about some of the things he went through at home and how his mom left when he was ten, and then he said he liked me but we weren’t even friends so he wasn’t gonna tell me in person but he cared about me and then in the next one he told me why he was always so mean to the kids and after that, he told me all about how his dad would treat him like shit and-”

“Whoa, whoa, Steve, I’m starting to lose you, take a breath, okay?” Robin said, breathing with him through the phone. “Now, I was with you for the most part, so keep going, just try and slow down a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve said, taking one more deep breath. “He told me that on his birthday his dad beat him up because Susan got him a cake, and that it happened all the time for stupid reasons. And in the next letter, he had had a good day, so he told me all about himself. He liked black and white movies, Robin. He was gonna be a mechanic. He hated mushrooms and he loved Van Halen and he liked to read and Billy wasn’t his real name and he had a dream about me and jellyfish and I never even thought to learn any of this about him when he was still here and now I feel like a fucking jackass because I should’ve given him a chance while I could but I didn’t and now it’s too late!”

Steve had started crying harder again as he explained, and Robin just let him. She wished she could crawl through the phone and hug him, but she couldn’t, so she just let him get it out. He cried through the phone at her for a few minutes, and she kept telling him it would be okay, until finally, he’d cried himself out enough to keep talking. 

“He didn’t like ice cream, but he liked the chocolate cheesecake explosion I gave him when he came into Scoops that one time,” he said, swallowing thickly. “And then the last two letters was when he told me about how he got possessed by the Mind Flayer. He was in an accident and it got him, but he didn’t know what was happening because we never brought him into the loop about all that stuff.”

“Steve, you know we couldn’t. I didn’t know about it either, and you only told me when I got involved, otherwise you’d have broken your NDA. And Max couldn’t have told him, either, or else she’d have gotten in trouble, too. It’s not your fault,” Robin tried, but Steve only chuckled dryly through the phone.

“That’s what he said, too. He said it’s not my fault, but that’s bullshit. I’m bullshit. I should’ve told him.”

“Steve, you are not bullshit, you’re the farthest thing from bullshit. And when would you have told him, huh? When you hated him and didn’t want him within ten feet of you? You said yourself, you weren’t friends, and who knows if he would’ve believed you, anyway. I didn’t at first, I doubt he would, either. There’s nothing that you could’ve done.”

“Yes there is, I just didn’t do it and now he’s dead and it’s all my fault!” Steve yelled, slamming his fist down on the floor. “It’s all my fault, Robin.”

“It’s not, Steve. Billy made the choice to drive the way he did. He made the choice to be on that particular road at that particular time. And he also made the choice to save El and the rest of us by standing up to that thing. He was a fighter, if there was anything he could’ve done to get out of there with us, he would’ve, but he must’ve figured it was either him or us, and he chose to save us. There was nothing any of us could’ve done.”

“I could’ve forgiven him.”

“He never asked if you would forgive him.”

“That doesn’t mean he deserved what happened.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But it is what it is, and all we can do now is make sure we don’t take what he did for granted, right?”

“I guess so,” Steve sniffed, wiping away some fresh tears as he leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know it, but Robin was sitting against her door in exactly the same position as she stayed on the line, just breathing with her best friend.

 “Hey, by the way,” he said after a few minutes, “Do you remember what we did with Billy’s bomber jacket?”

“I think we took it to Goodwill with the rest of his clothes, why?”

“In the last letter, he said he wanted me to have it if he died because it was his mom’s and he didn’t want it to end up in a thrift store for someone else to buy.”

“Then tomorrow, when they open, you and I can go and get it back, okay? For right now, I think we both just need to get some sleep, and then when we go tomorrow to get it, you can tell me more about these letters, does that sound good?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. See you tomorrow, Robin,” Steve said, waiting until he heard a click followed shortly by the dial tone. He grunted as he heaved himself up after that, putting his phone back on the cradle and then trudging back up to his room. He was exhausted, but he was almost afraid to fall asleep, not knowing what might enter his head if he started to dream after all this. Still, he cleaned up the letters off of his bed, folded them gently back up and put them back in the envelope. He put the envelope in his nightstand drawer and sighed as he closed it, wiping his eyes one last time as he settled in bed, falling asleep quicker than he would’ve liked.

He then found himself in an aquarium, surrounded by jellyfish on all sides. He was a little cold as he looked at the tanks, and he could feel himself shiver as he watched the creatures floating around him, but then he heard someone coming up behind him, and when he turned to look, there was Billy. He didn’t say anything, just took off his jacket, the bomber, and held it up for Steve to put on. He did, and then the two of them just stood there, watching the fish. Every few seconds though, Steve would glance over, searching for something to say.

“Okay, okay, I can take a hint,” Billy finally said, smiling and turning to face Steve before wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly as he added, “It’s okay, Steve. It’s all okay, I promise.”

It felt like only a second had passed when Steve woke up the next morning, in his bedroom, the covers twisted around him and his clock reading 11 a.m.. He called Robin and they made their plans, agreeing to meet in a half hour so that they could get to Goodwill with plenty of time before it opened. It was a Sunday, so they didn’t open until noon, and Steve was glad about that. If it had been any other day, Robin would’ve called early in the morning so that they could get there when it usually opened, and he might not have been able to see his dream play out, and that would’ve killed him. 

The dream didn’t fix everything, and Steve knew that more than likely, it was just his subconscious picking something to try and help him rationalize everything that happened. But he liked to think that maybe, just maybe, it was no accident that he had that dream. Maybe Billy really was there in his head, trying to send him a message. And if that was the case, he was going to take it and run with it, all the way to the Goodwill and back again, bomber jacket in hand.

[wellofdean]

Just wanted to split this off from this post about why Mary Winchester is excellent because it's getting so long, but I wanted to respond to these tags from @kayliemalinza :

#sometimes i feel people hate john for reasons that while valid in our universe less valid in the spn universe#but mary gets it way worse#<-- prev tags yessss#also doing the math wasn't she like 28 when she died#i'm glad they didn't recast and of course samantha smith looks her own age#but mary is in fact YOUNGER THAN SAM AND DEAN AT THIS POINT#they are not children#and the tags copied above i think explains so sos ooo much#bc so many fans glommed onto dean because of similar family issues#and that means they are struggling as much as dean is in s12#and just can't disconnect that quite yet#but god#GOD how she struggles with that emotional intimacy#she was raised as a hunter you don't think she's chockablock full of maladaptive coping mechanisms too?

Because I whole-heartedly agree with this. John Winchester was not a good father in some major, major ways, and Sam and Dean had a childhood straight out of a...well, a horror/fantasy genre show...but I think people forget that Sam and Dean also do truly love John and truly are more or less at peace with their memory of him later in the series, and there has to be a reason for that, too. It's not that he's a mustache-twirling villain; it's complicated. He loved them, but he wasn't always able to do it right. They love him, but he hurt them and made the what they are, which is a double-edged sword.

It's really natural that we all identify with Dean, and get angry at people who hurt him, but I think it's important to realize that Dean processes his anger about Mary leaving pretty quickly, because it's not really anger and resentment, it's confusion, disappointment and hurt. And I think Dean is grown enough to own his own feelings, and able to accept that she needs time and space, and he's not such a child that he isn't capable of separating his legitimate feelings from her legitimate needs. It takes him time, but he gets there, because, and this is another conversation, Dean is really very reflective and emotionally intelligent, actually.

I also do agree that a lot of fans, in identifying with Dean, map their own feelings about their parents onto Mary, and dislike her for reasons that have nothing to do with the story being told on Supernatural, which is essentially a very healing one. Since I'm a Gen-X old, and the mother of an adult son, I actually had a pretty different experience, and as much as I love Dean, in this storyline, I identified a lot with Mary.

On the one hand, she has to be so proud of her two big, beautiful, brave and heroic sons, but at the same time she does not know them! They don't need her, and they are trying to protect her from the things she feels they should have been protected from, and at the same time, as adult men who are still, in some way, motherless boys, they are hungry (especially Dean) for her to be something that she never had a chance to grow into. I loved it that her own exigencies were too strong to LET her stay. I loved that she could not accept the role of mother that had been stolen from her, and could not sit still to let it just kind of settle on her shoulders.

It made me think that (aw yeah!) there was a difference between John's sainted white nightgown conception of his dead wife (his motivation to be what he was), and Dean's memory of her as the cutter off of crusts from his sandwiches, or the mother that he comforted when she was sad, and he was just a little man. I'm so glad that Mary turned out to be so much more than that. She is a woman with her own competencies, her own damage and baggage, and her own ideas about how to make things right, who doesn't agree with her sons all the time, who makes mistakes, who fucks the wrong guy, still loves her problematic husband, and can't actually cook, thank you very much. I love that her own disorientation and her own will are so strong that she really can't allow who she actually is to be subsumed into the communal role of 'mother'.

I think that socially, we don't really think about what we ask of mothers, or how hard we judge them. We underestimate what they give up of themselves to satisfy that role. My son was born when I was really young, and fellas, IT WAS HARD under more or less perfectly normal circumstances, to make the transition from being just me to being a mother. My magnificent son is amazeballs, and is a human being that I am so fucking proud to have made out of my very own actual body and raised to be the excellent human he is, and we are really close, but I was not always prefect, and even now when he is a grown adult, I still chafe against the perception of me as 'his mother' and not just ME all the time. One of the very greatest things about my son is his incredible ability to let me live, and make space for the fact that I am also a person, and not just his mother, and I am so, so grateful to him for that, so....

Yeah. As much as I didn't want to see Dean hurt, I LOVED Mary, and love that they wrote her as her a full human being and not a tropally perfect mother. I loved seeing her as a flawed parent that deserved her adult children's understanding and mature love, who deserved her own space and her own processes. What's more, I loved seeing Dean process his feelings about her, and seeing him become a son who was capable of loving a real human woman who happened to be his mother. So... yes. I love her.

Mary Winchester forever. A+.

[froot-batty]

Can you explain how Eddie, Jon, and Jerv's autism manifests itself? As an Autistic comics fan, I love the idea of the Dork squad all being autistic!!

I sure can!! This one's gonna be long, so I'm gonna post it under a cut

Ed

Ed's whole deal can get a little complicated to explain, since he has BPD, ADHD, and OCD along with autism, so a lot of his experiences or behaviors are going to be influenced by all of those

Ed is a very repetition/pattern/organization focused kind of guy. Whether this be repeating routines, having to keep a system that's very specific, or needing things to play out in predetermined ways. If something doesn't happen how he expects it to, he will either repeat it over and over again or have a meltdown, depending on what it is

(He also has a lot of repetitive thoughts about all sorts of things. Some are more unpleasant than others)

They also fixate on things or people HARD. There will be week long stints where they will get fixated on something and be unable to do really anything else until their brain is satisfied. It can be very detrimental to their health (or to the health of the other person)

He also tends to dislike social situations, especially ones that are unfamiliar or crowded. Being unable to predict what will happen in a social situation or location is very nerve-wracking for him, and it's part of the reason why he can be so blunt and rude. Part of that is just how he's built, but it also usually puts people off or at least gives him the ability to analyze who someone is better. He doesn't like meeting new people, and he's found the best way to avoid talking to them is by being annoying (but he's just kind of annoying in general also)

Lastly, Eddie is very touch-averse (for multiple reasons) and moderately sensitive to sensory input. Bright lights and noises don't bother them too much, but the wrong smell or texture makes them want to vibrate out of their skin. They hate being touched, especially if they don't know you very well. Another reason why they wear gloves and a lot of clothing. It isn't as bad if they're very close with you though, so have them willingly touch you, or allow you to touch them for more than a minute or so, is a big sign of trust on their part

Jon

Jon is, as always, repression city, so he masks whenever he can get away with it. He's the type of guy to pretend like he's not bothered by something and then go home and stare at the wall for hours on end. He has a loooot of shutdowns because of this, unhealthy fucker

Jon is very unemotional and (like the other two, but more so) unempathetic. He could be having the best time of his life or the worst and he'd still have a blank "I wish I was dead" expression on his face. The exception is when he's experiencing high emotions, like shock, delight, terror, etc. He also speaks mostly in monotone, with occasional injections of emotion (mostly annoyance or amusement, and even then only barely)

Jon is very sensitive to light and sound. His glasses (or goggles, if he's wearing his mask) are actually tinted like sunglasses to help him deal with some of it. He has tried and failed to tough out being in noisy places, but since he physically can't do it, he's resorted to using earplugs to help deafen some of that sound. It still bugs him, but at least it lets him leave the house

In public, Jon stims in ways that could seem "normal" to other people, in his attempt to mask. Humming/whistling/singing, bouncing his leg, tapping a pencil, etc. He'll also clench his fists when he's not holding something (or tap on that thing if he is). When he's alone he tends to pick at his skin/scars, grind his teeth, pace, whisper to himself, things like that. Honestly a lot of his "not in public" stims unintentionally make him seem kind of scary (which he thinks is funny)

Jon also will have brief periods where he loses speech, particularly when he's overstimulated, but not always. Granted, since he doesn't talk much in the first place, it's not always noticed

Jervis

Jervis is veeerryy talkative when she's able to be! Though she tries to be mindful of it, she isn't the best at social cues (especially conversationally), and can (and will) have entire conversations where the other person isn't needed. Especially if it's about one of her interests, or if she has the chance to explain something to you. You best be ready to settle in for a while if she's decided to talk to you

The only problem is sometimes it's difficult for her to express herself in a way that makes sense, especially to neurotypical people. This is a combination of autism and brain damage. She is really very smart, and the things make sense when they're in her head, but they come out confusing and more like a ramble instead of a weave of interconnected ideas

He also has a bit of trouble recognizing people. He goes by shape, general colors associated with the clothes they wear, and voices, but if those are mixed around or unclear then he can get confused

He's also a very tactile kind of guy. We already know he loves hugging/cuddling/touching people, but a lot of his other stims relate to touch as well. Braiding or running his hands through his own or other people's hair, touching objects that have a texture he likes, scratching things, the feel of certain kinds of clothes, chewing on things, stuff like that

Along with that, she also has a lot of olfactory and visual stims. She has a couple of those stuffed toys that have the scents in them, which both appeal on the smell factor and the touch factor. Some might think it's weird or creepy, but she also likes to smell different people, especially those she's close with! It's just very comforting (even if being sniffed isn't always comfortable for the other person). Visually, she really likes staring at pleasing patterns, or anything moving repetitively, like fans. But she can get real dizzy doing that

Jerv is a biiigggg fan of weight, either being pinned down under someone or under stuff like a weighted blanket. Very very comforting

I think that's just about it!! I hope this satisfies, it was a lot of fun actually writing out how different their autism manifests and throwing in some of my own experiences/behaviors too. My silly beasts

[avonne-writes]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re taking asks or not but I figured I’d shoot my shot!

I’m a big fan of your Clegan stories. Reverie is my absolute favorite story in the fandom. I’ve re-read it twice already since you published the final chapter. It’s my bedtime comfort fic!

I was wondering if you had any advice for a first time smut writer?

I have a new series I started, exploring ‘firsts’ that Buck and Bucky experience and I know that Part Two of my series is going to be Gale and John’s first time. Which is also Gale’s first time doing anything sexual (Marge doesn’t really exist as a romantic partner in my series).

I’m an avid reader of explicit works, but have never even attempted to write one.

Yours come across so genuine and authentic and so I just wondered if you had any advice/tips? 🙈

Hi dear 🥰 Oh, thank you so much! Reverie is so precious to me, I'm glad that it's your comfort story. 💕 Yes, of course, my askbox is always open!

I'm no expert, of course, but I can tell you some of the things I consider while writing sex scenes. Writing a good sex scene is not as easy as it might seem, so don’t worry if you feel like it’s harder than you expected! And if it’s written out of love for the characters, I’m sure it will be lovely.

Some smut writing tips:

First of all, I think it’s good to decide what kind of smut you want to write and what the purpose of the scene is. If it’s arousal (e.g. a PWP fic), you’ll probably want to go into more detail of who's doing what and describe the physical sensations explicitly. If it’s the characters (which I think applies to your story), go into what it means to them to do this and what emotions the sensations evoke in them.

A well-written sex scene stays true to the characters. This is probably the hardest part, but almost everything works if you explain it. For example, if you have someone like Gale, who always talks calmly and confidently, and you want to write him stammering during his first time, the reader needs to understand why he’s so emotional and unsure about it. Example: perhaps he’s nervous that Bucky wants more than he can give.

Dialogue should be consistent with the scene and the characters. For example, a shy character won't start filthy dirty talk and characters won't moan loudly in pleasure if they need to hide.

It's better not to use euphemisms. Please no "love chamber" or "wand of desire". But I think you probably knew this already 😄

I also recommend not to use too many epithets (e.g. the blond, the taller man). I, personally, don't like to use them at all.

Especially with characters who don’t know each other's bodies well yet, leave them space to be surprised and to fumble. Example: Bucky might have had a lot of sex before but not with Gale, and perhaps he’s surprised by the way Gale moves against him, that he doesn’t just let himself be manhandled. Or the exact opposite, he expects Gale to push back but he’s pliant.

Have fun! If you struggle with a part of the scene, shorten it or skip it. You don’t need to describe everything if the words are not coming. 😊

These are the things I can think of at the moment, but let me know if you want to talk about this some more 🥰 You can also send me DMs. Good luck with your writing! I'm sure it will be delightful.

[bookofmirth]

Uhhh what did I miss? Why are big artists leaving the fandom and what did fairyloot do?

Fairyloot didn't do anything - this fandom is just entitled and out of control.

Fairyloot released the designs for their special edition ToG a couple of days ago, and some people disliked it. I say "some" because the post now has 50k likes and plenty of people do actually like the designs, I personally like them and if I had the disposable income I'd buy them.

So people flooded the comments with complaints. I mean it's over 4k comments now. Not all of them are negative, but many of them are incredibly rude and entitled. Like astonishingly so.

But they couldn't leave it at that - they had to go to the page of the book designer and the fan artist and leave rude comments on their pages, too.

Do people have legit things that make sense to want to change? Perhaps. Making the stag white would make sense if that was literally supposed to be the Lord of the North and not just a stag. I guess the wyvern is the wrong color if it's supposed to literally be Abraxos and not just an abstraction of wyverns, of which there are many in the book. In terms of the color and design of the covers, they were going for a vintage look, which the book designer explained, and is something I clocked before she even made that comment.

And the allegations of plagiarism are ridiculous considering the similarities between the two special editions are elements coming from the damn series. I mean, a landscape? In art? Fucking revolutionary /s

The thing is, even if all of these feelings are justified - you can be sad that the colors aren't vibrant, you can be sad that they are relatively monochromatic, you can think that there are other, better special editions out there - that doesn't fucking mean that you need to tell the whole world how you feel, especially when it's going to negatively impact the people who worked really hard to create these books. And what's more, these special editions are a luxury item. No one has to buy them. No one is owed the specific design that they want.

These assholes probably already own and have read the series. If they think someone else has done it better, and for cheaper, then go buy that other version!!!! Go commission someone else for their hard work then, bestie! And you'll quickly find out that people's hard work and time is actually quite valuable and probably regret your decision.

All the comments saying it's a cash grab - I'm sorry, are you not on the page of a store that sells things in order to make money???? Are you fucking stupid???? "This thing that is completely optional to my ability to live and has no impact on my quality of life that I don't need to buy is too expensive and doesn't look how I would want it to" okay, and? Go cry to the group chat.

All the people saying "it's constructive comments/constructive criticism" -

Did they fucking ask??? Fairyloot didn't post asking what people think, they posted saying "here's the design". If you don't like it, don't buy it.

And there is a way to deliver constructive criticism that isn't harmful. A few hundred people commenting the same snarky, passive aggressive shit over and over is NOT constructive criticism. If people were really concerned about that message getting to Fairyloot and the artists, then all they would have to do is find a comment they felt expressed what they agree with - because there are plenty - like that comment, and perhaps respond saying that they agree. Engage with that comment. Don't fucking dogpile with the same. Goddamn. Comment. Over. And. Fucking. Over. And apparently there were a bunch of reels deconstructing how much the book design sucked too, which I didn't even watch or get into.

People are really out here on the internet acting like no one else is human or has feelings.

So yeah, now big artists are leaving the fandom and tbh, if I were a visual artist, I would have left a long time ago. Other well-known authors are commenting on those artists' posts (Sabaa Tahir, Stephanie Garber, Shannon Chakraborty) in support of the artists.

It's beyond embarrassing to be part of this community so I'm just... pretty much done with it.

[ravenbloodshot]

Why Hyuna and E'dawn broke up 💔

Hyuna's side of the story:

The connection wasn't going horribly, could have been better but there wasn't exactly one thing that happened for the relationship to have ended. It was a gradual, slow moving ending

I think Hyuna felt more like a friend to E'dawn than a girlfriend, even when she complained that he needed to do more to add to the lack of romance, she still felt like something was missing

She thought he was ignorant about things he should know about. Felt like she shouldn't have to explain everything to him and spell out his duties to her

She definitely thinks the spark was lost in the connection

She felt pressured by the public and both of their families to be with him, the add on of their engagement, possible marriage and even possible children was too much for her. Especially since she wasn't feeling that strongly towards him

E'dawn's side of the story:

Okay. This guy didn't end the relationship and he's sorta waiting for her to come back to him. He's quite patient too

It's like he knows she's a more free spirited person, that isn't too big on commitment and likes to live young, wild and free. So it's like hes okay with her leaving him to enjoy more of her young life and go on her own journey of finding herself. And now he's just waiting for her to be ready to try a relationship with him again

He knows there's things that needed to change about Hyuna's character and his career so it's like he wants that change to happen while they're broken up

He also thinks Hyuna wasn't a fan of getting married and thought she wanted more from him

The truth:

Hyuna didn't feel secure in this connection, I believe she made more than him and may not have liked that arrangement. Also she wished to be stimulated more, feel more excitement in the connection

E'dawn may have gotten too comfortable in the connection to where he put less effort in the romance side of the relationship

Overall, I'm getting a lost spark. Like they wouldn't have as much fun together or innocently love each other as they did before. Life just became too complicated at the same time the love didn't feel as freeing or feel like the escapism that it was once before

Hyuna was mostly the deciding factor for calling off the relationship (she called most of the shots when they were together as well, in which Edawn didn't mind to a certain extent). Lowkey, Edawns just waiting for Hyuna to get tried of being a solo adventurer and come back to him

Young, Wild and Free by Snoop Dogg is a song that fits this readings energy

[smallblueandloud]

i've been thinking a lot about cyrano de bergerac adaptations recently

because, okay, a lot of times your weak point is gonna be the central conceit -- the letter writing. what kind of situation do you need for your cristian to agree (to ASK) a guy he barely knows to spearhead his courtship?

i'm not nearly enough of a scholar for this, but i've read that the original play existed in an intellectual era that meant it was actually plausible that roxane would reject cristian if he wasn't well-spoken enough. but that's really hard to transfer to the modern era! especially because you want your audience to be FOND of roxane, instead of kind of. side-eyeing her as a snob.

roxane (1987) gets past this by... well, first off, being the kind of nerdy movie that snobs enjoy, but secondly by making christian awkward around women -- SO awkward that he freezes up around them, which also very neatly explains the letters thing.

because that's the other problem! why have letters when you can have text messages or even dates?

the letters have to come from the inability to woo in-person -- the issue is that modern AUs don't have the built-in reason that a courtly-love story does. i haven't seen the half of it, but i know it's set in a high school, and damn what a good way to work in the letters thing. Talk About A Context Where You Don't Control Who You Spend Time With !

back to cristian and cyrano. the main choice to make, with regards to the letter-writing conceit, is who brings up the idea. in the play, it's cyrano -- hearing cristian's dilemma, he recognizes it as an inverse to his own. it's a very crafty (and self-serving tbh) choice, and it leaves room for cristian to doubt the arrangement and even try to take control pre: balcony scene.

iirc roxane (1987) has christian suggest the scheme -- implying that he doesn't care HOW roxanne falls in love with him, just that she does. (this is either naive or purely an attempt to have sex with her, depending on how you read the movie.) i've never been a fan of this choice. i think a big part of the appeal of cyrano are his flaws, including him butting his nose (ha) into something that he really shouldn't be involving himself in. on the other hand, roxane DID ask for his help... he's a layered guy in terms of morality, okay.

anyway, i guess it depends on how you want to characterize both your cristian and cyrano. how does your cyrano's arrogance manifest? how much agency do you want to give your cristian -- and, again, what kind of guy lets a rando take command of his own budding relationship?

[harlowsbby]

Impalas and Air Force 1’s part four

"Jack hasn't been the same since Y/N left, I think I saw him once or twice today." Neelam told Nemo, Urban was just about to come around the corner and get a snack but stopped when he heard the two of them talking.

"What exactly happened? He didn't tell me anything." Nemo asked Neelam and she sighed.

"Well as far as I know Y/N broke up with him that's all he knows she wouldn't tell him why, but he's been hurting ever since she left." She frowne; everyone has been feeling pity on Jack ever since you broke things off with no explanation.

"So, is he basically like depressed?"

"Well, I'd say he is I mean you know Jack isn't one to show his emotions or talk about his feelings so

I'm not sure but l am guessing he is."

Urban felt horrible he didn't want Jack to be depressed he just wanted what was best for Jack and he convinced himself that the two of you breaking up was the best thing for him, but boy was he wrong.

"Well, he needs to cheer up before tonight he's performing at one of the most historic arenas in the world, we don't have time for him to be moping around." Neelam nodded her head in agreement.

"I agree with you Nemo let's hope he cheers up by tonight at least somehow."

"My biggest fear is he doesn't cheer up then what happens?" Nemo asked Neelam, she let out a big sigh.

"We might have to end this tour, Jack loves giving his all to his fans and if he isn't himself, they'll definitely pick that up."

Urban walked back to his room he had to figure out a way to get Jack and You back together he realized now that he was wrong, he realized that you were the glue to keeping Jack sane and going and he just prayed you'd be willing to take him back.

He sat at the edge of the bed and picked up his phone, his finger hovered over your name on his contact list.

"Here goes nothing." After a few rings you finally answered the phone. “Hello? who is this.” Ouch that hurt you didn’t even have his number saved which was understandable seeing as he’s caused so much stress in the last 24 hours.

“It’s me uh Urban.” You sighed and rolled your eyes wondering what he wanted now.

“What’s up Urban?” Urban licked his lips and closed his eyes praying that you’d take Jack back.

“Can you take Jack back.” He asked bluntly which honestly caught you off guard, why would you take Jack back especially after he cheated on you.

“Urban, are you hearing yourself right now? You just told me Jack was cheating on me so why would I go and take him back.” You weren’t sure what Urban was on or where he was going with this, but you honestly just wanted to hang up.

“I know if I explain it over the phone, it’ll be a mess, but it’ll be a mess in person but at least I’ll have a witness incase things take a bad turn.”

“Urban what time are we meeting up? My flight leaves for Atlanta later on tonight so it needs to be before then.” You didn’t want to talk to Urban but what else did you have planned; you were stuck in London with no friends or family.

“Meet me outside the hotel later on in about an hour or two and we can walk to the tea shop down the street, does that sound good?” Urban asked, you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Sounds good I’ll see you later Urban.”

“Let’s just hope things go well.” Urban told himself but he knew before he met you, he had to talk to Jack.

Getting up he walked over to Jack’s room on the way he had passed the living room where Neelam and Nemo sat, they looked up and gave Urban a few dirty looks ever since they found out Urban was trying to breakup Jack and You they haven’t talked to him since, they wanted him to fix things between the two of you and even though Neelam didn’t know Urban set up the fake texts she was just certain it was him.

He was a bit hesitant, but he knocked on Jack’s door anyways at first Jack didn’t answer but after a few knocks he eventually did.

“Urban? what’s up? you can come inside.” Jack let Urban in the room and his eyes widen seeing the state of Jack’s room.

He had a pile of clothes laying on the floor and I mean sure they were in a hotel suite so there wasn’t exactly anywhere for him to wash clothes but usually Jack had them tucked away in his suitcase, he had empty plates with pieces of food still on them. Jack wasn’t a messy person at all so seeing this surprised Urban.

Urban even had to plug his nose a few times the smell in this room was indescribable, he looked at Jack who honestly looked like he needed a long shower, he had stains all over his shirt which he assumed was once white, his curls were everywhere and sticking onto his forehead he just didn’t look like himself.

“Can I talk to you about something Jack.”

“Yeah, you know you can talk to me about anything Urban, what’s up?” Jack watched Urban intently he watched how Urban’s body tensed up.

“Well, you see I kind of made up a lie about you cheating on Y/N, I had Stassie text me as if I was you and made it seem like you were cheating on Y/N and I’m the reason why she broke up with you.”

Once Urban finished talking he let out a huge breath he didn’t even know he was holding in, Jack just looked at Urban trying to comprehend everything he just said.

“So, you’re the reason I’m no longer with Y/N, you’re the reason why everything just keeps going downhill.” Jack was pissed he felt betrayed he had let what happened the first time go he forgave Clay and Urban but for Urban to turn back around and do the same thing again was just intolerable.

“Jack it was for a good reason.” Urban tried to protest but Jack wasn’t trying to hear it.

“For a good reason? Are you kidding me right now what was the reason Urban please tell me so we can get this over with!” Jack yelled; he paced around the room running his fingers through his already messy hair.

“You weren’t being yourself she was turning you into some big softie and honestly I wanted the old Jack back.”

“The old Jack? I don’t want to be that version of me Urban why can’t you understand that this new and improved Jack is the version of me that’s here and staying, Y/N makes me happy she Kees be going even on those days when I don’t see the purpose in moving forward, she was my everything and you took that away from me once again.” Jack’s voice cracked as he expressed his feeling to Urban, Urban hung his head low he hated himself for even starting any of this drama.

“Urban I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying I was happy I was enjoying myself and my life and I know I should never depend on someone as my happiness, but Y/N was my happiness she was my home away from home.” Jack’s voice cracked while he spoke about you and that’s when Urban finally realized what he did was wrong Jack needed you and You needed Jack. 

“I’m sorry Jack I promise I will make everything better.” 

“How Urban? she blocked my number she won’t answer none of my calls or texts and I’m just supposed to believe that that you’ll find a way to fix it when you’ve been ruining everything.” 

Jack flopped back into his bed and put his head in his hands, Urban was determined to make things right between the two of you. 

“I promise Jack everything will come together.” Urban gave Jack a faint smile before getting up and leaving, checking his phone he had seen you messaged him. 

Y/N 

I’m on my way to the hotel 

Making his way downstairs to the hotel lobby and outside, he waited around the side of the hotel where he said he’d be meeting you at. After a while of scrolling through his phone he was interrupted by someone tapping his shoulder. Looking up he jumped slightly at your appearance. 

“Y/N is that you?” You always took care of your appearance; your nails were always done as well as your hair but now you looked a mess. Your hair was going in every and any direction a few of your nail were chipped, whenever you were frustrated, you had this bad habit of chipping and breaking your nails, you also had stains on your shirt just like Jack they weren’t as noticeable, but they were there. 

“It’s me I know I look a mess.” You laughed, shifting from one leg to another suddenly feeling insecure. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“I know you’re going to hate me but those messages I showed you the other day.” Urban spoke slowly you raised your eyebrow and waited for him to keep going. “None of those were true they were all fake Jack was never cheating on you I lied, and I feel horrible about it. Please take him back Y/N he’s a crying mess without you.” 

You didn’t know what to say your first instinct was to slap him for making up more lies but you were just done you had no more energy for this. 

“I’m sorry Urban but I just can’t get back together with Jack maybe everything you said was a lie, but I’m done I can’t keep doing this back-and-forth stuff anymore.” It was draining the energy and life out of you, and you had enough. 

“Please Y/N you can’t do this to Jack he’s a mess you have to take him back if not Neelam and Nemo are cancelling his tour and you know how important this tour is to him, it’s his first world tour.” You did know how important this tour was to Jack and hearing that it might be cancelled made you feel bad. 

“I’m sorry Urban but I’m done I just I can’t anymore.” You started to cry, “Y/N please come on you can’t do this.” You whimpered and covered your mouth to stop your lip from trembling. “I can’t Urban I’m sorry, but I have to go.” 

Urban watched you leave he sighed heavily he fucked up and now you really weren’t taking Jack back, he had ruined everything he let his jealousy of his best friend having a stable and healthy relationship get the best of him he hated the way someone else was making Jack happy and he now knew the mistake he made.  

Later that night 

“Jack get up you have to get ready for the show it’s literally in a few hours.” Neelam shoved and attempted several times to removing Jack from his head, but he didn’t budge. 

“Leave me alone Neelam I don’t want to perform tonight or ever again.” 

“Now you’re just being dramatic Jack come on and get up.” Drama came into the room and shook his head at Jack. “I got this Neelam let me handle it please.” He told her. 

“Jack man look I know things with Y/N didn’t work out but that doesn’t mean you sit around and feel sorry for yourself or reminisce on past events we worked hard to get to where you are today, remember that young man who came up to me and started rapping and was rapping his ass off to prove everyone wrong?” Jack was now sitting up in the bed giving Drama his full attention. 

“Look how far you’ve came Jack you’re performing in sold out arenas all over the world you’ve been Grammy nominated three years in a row, you’ve achieved so much in this year let alone and you can’t mope around. If things with Y/N are meant to be then God will make that happen but for now you need to get up and get ready. you have about a million of screaming fans waiting for you to put on a show for them, can you do that or not?” 

Drama was right Jack has achieved so much this year and if things between the two of you were supposed to be then God will make that happen. 

“I can do this.” Jack smiled as well as Drama, he brought Jack in for a hug. “Now let’s get shit poppin.” 

You were now on your way to the arena Jack was performing at, after Neelam called you, she had convinced you to come to his show and try and talk things out with him afterwards, it took a lot of convincing, but you finally agreed. You were nerves to say the least. You weren’t sure how Jack was going to react when he saw you again, the possibility of him already moving on was flooding your mind and you hated that. 

“We have arrived Ms. Y/L.” The driver smiled at you through the mirror you gave him a smile back before stepping out of the car. 

“Here goes nothing.” 

“Y/N is that you?” Ace smiled when he saw you the mention of your name caught everyone’s attention. 

“In the flesh.” you smiled and laughed as they all ran towards you taking turns hugging you. “What made you come?” Urban asked. 

“Well, I realized Jack makes me happy and I make him happy, I don’t care what anybody thinks or feels anymore all I care about is my happiness and Jack’s” 

“That’s all that matters.” Nemo told you. “Y/N I am really sorry for everything I’ve started I feel so bad.” Urban apologized you gave him a faint smile before pulling him in for a hug. “I forgive you Urban but if you pull something like that again you’ll be in the hospital.” Everyone laughed and you looked around the room wondering where Jack was. 

“Where is Jack?” You asked and Neelam smiled before pointing behind you. 

“I’m right here baby and I heard every single thing you said.” Your vision got blurry instantly with tears, you turned around and ran into Jack’s arms. He picked you up and spung you around a few times making you squeal before putting you down. 

“I’m so sorry Jack I promise I’ll never leave you again.” You cried out and took his face in your hands God did it feel good to touch him again. 

“I’m sorry too baby, I love you so much Y/N. You have no idea how happy you make me.” 

“Well I’m happy for this little reunion but Jack you’ve got fans outside chanting your name so let’s go and put on a damn show shall we?” Drama laughed and Jack smiled but before he went on stage he gave you a kiss a real kiss filled with so much passion and emotion.

“You’ll be here when I get back right?” He joked and you laughed and shoved him back playfully. “I’ll be here Jack, always and forever.”

author’s note 💗

damn I can’t believe I finished my first series after starting so many before and never finishing 😌 but I hope you all enjoyed this mini series and let me know how you feel about everything.

tag

@heavyhitterheaux @nattinatalia @moody4world

@hoodharlow @mortirolo @softtcurse

@harlowthot @alowkeyvibe

[dayurno]

do you have any thoughts about the way thea was handled? ever since nora has been more active on twt (and mentioned the hate thea gets) people have been sort of insistent about Always Having Liked Her Actually and it irks me a lot, because imo people SHOULD be upset at the fact that kevin (who has been abused all his life and has trauma regarding the nest) has a gf who's from that same environment but 1. doesn't seem all that concerned about getting better / helping kevin get better 2. shouts at him in the only scene they're in together 3. isn't even described as a particularly good presence in the extra content explaining their past 4. this is just a horrible cherry on top but she's 5 years older and they met when he was 14 :/// like if anything i think this has a lot to do with nora not having been kind to kevin (which she also recently admitted to) like damn can he get one thing in life that's just good for him. one safe haven. jesus

short answer: i think thea as a character has been done the worst by nora sakavic, and the lack of care she was shown is in line with how all for the game treats its other characters of color.

long answer: most of my thoughts about how thea was handled are less about thea the character itself and more about her throwaway appearance and the overall lack of interest the author had when writing her. thea's a widely hated character for many reasons, not all of them valid, and a big one is that she was shoved into the narrative at one of the very last few chapters and paired up with one of the most important characters with very little thought or effort. we don't get even a hint of her existance before her appearance, and her one scene does not gather her sympathy because what we know of her is that she's an unrepentant raven (arguably the series' most evident villains) and what we see of her is a moment of great anger, that, even if ignorant, mimics the hostility most of the other ravens had towards kevin/the foxes during the trilogy

this is all to say: i don't like the way thea was written, and i think, especially, that it was a bad optic to write a black woman whose only scene is her being hostile towards her love interest. i need you to know that i'm not saying thea was not right to be angry, or that thea should've flown in and nursed kevin's mental health as soon as she could — both because it's out of character and because it's ridiculous —, but i am saying that she was not afforded almost anything as a character, in both terms of humanity and screentime. this is nothing new with how aftg treats its characters of color, and it is very telling that the characters who get the most flack (namely nicky and thea and riko) are the core of the non-white cast. thea and riko are not afforded complexity; nicky is a constantly flamboyant brown man whose only purpose is to wrangle his cousins and deliver friendship-related one liners to neil. this is why nora sakavic's refusal to comment on them grates on me, and why the new wave of adoration for the series with no nuance suffocates all of the real criticism done by fans of color in the last ten years.

and here's a personal answer: thea's future breaks my heart just as much as kevin's does, because she is also a victim of cultist mentality, and she never breaks out of it. i have no doubts in my heart that the nest was cruel to her, and her unflinching loyalty to the ravens until the end saddens me because it is a terrible existence when all is said and done. thea will not play exy forever, and by the time she has to retire, she will be just as miserable as kevin was. i don't know if she'll ever acknowledge how awful the ravens were either to her or to kevin — i don't know if she'll *want* to, because it is hard to do all that work, and it will leave her deeply scarred to realize most of it was not necessary to her sucess —, but i hope she does, and i hope that on that day, she will be able to decide for herself where to go from there.