#i'm gonna put them in my queue so i don't flood you with all of them at once
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shadow-the-crow · 7 months ago
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Michael never really fit in anywhere. Maybe that's part of why i like him so much. Or maybe i'm just projecting lol – but hear me out.
Michael Shelley maybe really didn't have a purpose in life. Maybe doing research on his trauma was all he had. He was too good, too pure for his human life - a life that probably just wasn't great in general.
Now other people without other purpose in life than supernatural trauma reasearch become happy fulfilled avatars, like Mike Crew. But Mike Crew chose to serve his entity. Michael, on the other hand, was sacrificed to an entity that didn't fit him, that was the opposite of him. He was naive and kind and would never lie to anyone, and the Spiral is the incarnation of gaslighting and lies. Which means the Spiral wasn't good for him, but he also couldn't become a good Spiral avatar vessel. Helen seems to be able to coordinate humanity and inhumanity. Michael wasn't, because Michael Shelley wasn't made for becoming this.
In general - i'm still thinking about how Gertrude stopped the ritual by making Michael the Distortion. Maybe it was just because it disturbed the ritual and it needed to get used to its new identity. Or maybe it was because Michael just wasn't a good distortion. He wasn't strong or talented or spirally enough to complete the ritual. God, i made him tragic.
I gotta say: This seems to contradict what i’ve said before, but i’m only talking about Michael and Michael Shelley as one person to simplify this. What i really mean is the Distortion could never be good at being itself while having Michael’s mind.
Can you imagine? Not only being tied to the embodiment of your failure, but still being your failure. Thinking with a mind that represents the opposite of what you are, that contradicts your very essence. That stops you from living up to your full potential, that stops you from being good at being you.
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kayakoto-enterprises · 2 months ago
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Soul Touch [1/2]
Author's note: Happy House Guest Monthsary!!! My mind has been flooded with the sappiness of deep infatuation before the Horrors barge in!! I wanted to write something pre-relationship, something soft and nice and pretentiously sweet like the little town that homes them. Happy House Guest Monthsary!!
P.S. Yes Penderverse Knuckles reference. I love you She Loves You arc.
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December 2nd, 1987
I might be slowly slipping out of the motivation to continue such a project. Maybe it's the weather. The temperature has been dropping each day and my body clock compels me to commit less these days. It even prevents me from committing emotionally some days. To my favorite side project or to this untitled goose chase. I could not promise myself that my props would be ready by Christmastime. I think I'll have to endure all the queries and invitations. No, no, but maybe I'll have something ready by Valentine's. But my body now is focused on getting me home and running a long bath. It might be easy to catch a fish in this weather, but God knows a body isn't as satisfying when it's colder and limper. The stream doesn't flow like a fall with most of my catches in this season. But it's the most I can do for myself today. My hands are almost frigid from the frost. I have to get back now.
Passing through the boulevard bound back to Woodbrook, a line of people formed from the sidewalk as they all appear to be hailing taxis. Most of them holding boxes and bags, carrying children, or sharing a moment with another, shopping bag between them. Then there's a person in a bright pink parka. I slowed the truck to get a better look at the familiar sight. Well wouldn't you know it, Julianne was in the city today. Her eyes were focused on how long the queue was getting. I blew the horn immediately to catch the feline's attention. Her tail jumped up from shock, and looked around before noticing my car, squinting to make out my silhouette.
"Hey Julianne!" I smiled after quickly rolling down my window. Her expression changes from confused to shocked, a weak smile curling from her lips.
"Oh my god- hi Sam!" Julianne's voice was shrill with an excitement or nervousness "Just waiting for a cab."
"I'm headed back. Want a ride?" I shut myself up realizing what I just offered. The seats back there looked clean. I cleaned my apron and goggles. Nothing here smells like blood. I return my attention to Julianne. She nods, picking up a carboard box she was trudging along. I got myself out and carried the box into the back seat. She only gets inside when I give her a nod. She sighs in relief entering the truck, enjoying the warmth yet that nervousness doesn't wash off her face. I playfully nudge her shoulder before starting the engine.
"You can relax now. I'm not your boss...Now, what do you say?"
"Thank you." Julianne says with a sincere smile. Her eyes only meet mine for a second then she looks down at her feet.
"What brings you here? I thought you said you hated the city."
Julianne leans into the door looking out into the passing world. I chuckle to myself how obvious she's being. I've seen the signs and the symptoms of people with crushes. I'd rather they not act that way towards me. It looks endearing on her though. Maybe it's a waste if I wait this project out til Spring. The trap is ready and set. She composes herself before softly replying.
"It's a free day. I just wanna...get in a crowd and disappear in a crowd. Do you know what I mean? As much as I like being..a new face in Woodbrook going back to a place like this puts me back in perspective."
Her voice dreamy with a fond cynicism. Speaking of disappearing...
"You're not worried a...bear is gonna come and get you then you do disappear, do you?" I joked.
"Hey, where are you taking me?" Julianne snapped back, her smile growing as she laughed with me. Her expression mellows down again playing with her thumbs as we drive through the winding road to home.
"Don't get so quiet now, we still have 30 minutes together."
"Well, what do you do in the city?"
"I meet with a few business associates there. They supply me the paint and other stock that sells well. There's 3 I go to. Then if I feel like it, I walk to Com-Foods' commissary to pick up some goodies before going home." I half lied.
"Com-Foods! I..I did go to the commissary today. I got...let's see..those chocolate marshmallows, ice gems, and chocolate chip cookies." She lit up. "What do you usually get?"
"Chocolate chip and butter cookies. Are you stocking up for a project..?"
She shook her head looking a little offended.
"Sure, but Christmas is almost here. Do the children go carolling around? And to serve as..quick gifts to some of the kind friends I've made so far.." The nervousness in her voice returns.
"Hopefully a lot more this year. After last year, lots of parents didn't want to take that risk right away. Only saw maybe 3 kids with their parents. Hey, you could give some to my friend's kids. I think they'll appreciate it."
She nods as she thinks of a reply. Nothing comes out. Her expression is confused trying to make up a story or a follow up but I hold her hand down.
"I was just teasing you. Do you want me to turn the heater up a bit?"
Those last 15 minutes were painfully dull. The radio could only slur out spasms of melodies as the weather got worse. Julianne filled those gaps with humming or thinking out loud. We parked behind her apartment building and walked in to everyone huddled in the common space. A few eyes followed us upstairs with suspecting glances. I settled her box down next to a shoe rack.
She whispered me thank you again before quickly running off to the kitchen. She came back a minute later holding a pair of scissors.
"Hey, don't run with that in your hand."
She ignored me scolding her to rip a line through the tape on the cardboard. She pulled out a bag of chocolate chip cookies and wordlessly placed it in my hands. She smiled at me again.
I grinned back. I don't know how I felt at that moment but it probably was not as intense as it was for her. I came home that night spending a longer time in the water wondering what that girl was doing to me.
Click.
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December 5th, 1987
Yes, I am well aware of the fact people have crushes on me. It's mostly innocent- but I'm usually uninterested. I don't do relationships like that until I consider it necessary. This is necessary. I can't stand being an object of pity. It isn't completely selfish either. She'll reap all the benefits of dating me in the end. I just want the attention away from my hands.
Yet if she's just a means to my end, why do I picture her smiling when open up the cookie jar? I try and redirect my mind somewhere else, and believe me, I nearly got it. I just nearly broke the jar. It is a sweet gesture though. My other suitors have done nothing other than talk. I can be bribed with a bag of Com-Foods chocolate chip though. Some people can just read me better.
My mind wanders back to the truck in those 15 minutes to the apartment building. The signals shift from Golden Apple's broadcast to the Woodbrook radio playing underground music. Julianne rambles quickly about an emerging art band that started a telephone service from their home studio. Each hour or so a new song plays through their answeing machine. One of their debut songs play between static and she softly sings to complete the puzzle. She tells me I should call it and I think of the telephone bill.
I'm transferring important numbers, dates, addresses, and sticky notes into this new journal. I can't help but preserve the last few pages though as they detail all the close encounters I've had with that cat: The day she moved into town, the first time she came into the shop, photos of the bare apartment, and information I've pulled out of her that might be important later on. Everything else is going into an open fire. Julianne begins to consume every thought  and decision I had and will have moving forward. In a desperation march to move my mind away from more petty violence or saintly canonization, it feels like I'm reaching out to take her, and flow her body down through a stream with mine. I could not figure out how to do it naturally though. I don't do well with romance. The last time I attempted it nineteen years ago blew up on my face and even up to now that relationship further rottens under the rug. Julianne is just so easy to please though. She's so young. Maybe it's her first shot at anything at all. She likes me. It's stupidly obvious.
I haven't been flattered to be liked like that in a long while.
She has this affection for almost anything she will lay her eyes on. I leave my heart blank or neutral to anything particularly sappy. Keep myself agreeable enough to be liked. It's just that excitement for everything that's slowly infecting my senses. The library has this gigantic poster with the names of stars and constellations. I find myself staring and reading it for seconds, maybe minutes more, memorizing the shapes and the titles. Imagine the look on her face when I could properly point to her where the hunter's belt is.
I'm not anchoring myself to her in any way. I promise.
387-6962.
The phone brrs for a moment until the click of a button is heard on the opposite side. A chalky sounding, music box-like melody plays gently.
Stormy pinkness
Human weakness
Fills my Johnny Cup with gloom
I smile a bit. It sounds like something she would say. The charm of such an unessential service shines like a golden ring amongst every other 800-number I've seen on TV.
Your progression
My digression
Forty days this afternoon
The things we cherish are small indeed
So much the larger the need
Stormy pinkness
Let me thanklessly free
Such is the sound of young love. It sounds like a night of slam poetry. A young man's voice on the other end thanks me for calling up their quirky service. In the stillness of the closed shop I listen on, hang up, and call again. It sounded nice. Like a tune you hear during a dance scene in a movie. Or the track you skip over in your favorite album. I don't consider looking at things I don't already like for other people. Julianne does have an interesting taste in music though. I don't mind it. At least that's another thing we can talk about next time.
Click.
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.
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December 7th, 1987
Who am I kidding walking straight to Julianne's apartment building first thing in the morning today? I look suspicious to a lot of the residents there. I mean, they know me. They buy from me. The landlady sends me a basket every Easter. But the mere fact I was here yesterday for one thing and then again is enough to raise a brow at my intentions. Julianne left yesterday and hasn't returned. I don't know why I felt offended, maybe even sad at the thought of her gone. I was excited to tell her I called up that phone number she rambled on about.
I wish I had her number. There would be no middle ground or lobby to pass through to get to her. I was already making a spectacle of myself coming so often to the space.
I could not focus today. I was feigning between closing early and waiting outside the apartment or just giving up and going home. I was just begging to see her at this point. A glimpse of anything at all. My eyes out the window waiting for a taxi or someone wearing pink. I must be slipping out of it again. It's starting to get desperate. It's beginning to get dark.
I've been standing at the door for almost two hours now. My eyes are wide open. The silence begins to sound like static. I wait painfully, unable to move to show my face again to that lobby. I've been hoping..and hoping..and hoping..
Someone in white passes by.
They look up the sign and at the door and she yells.
"OH MY GOD! Oh, oh it's..hi Sam." She looks at me like I've been playing dead. I push the door open finally as the cold wind welcomes me outside.
"Crap, you..I mean, you look so pale. How long have you been like that?" She laughs at the absurdity of the situation.
"I just closed the store. I didn't mean to look so frozen in thought, it's just been happening to me a lot lately."
"Sounds like a lot's on your mind. Do you wanna talk about it?"
I shake my head. I could barely get myself to focus. My eyes looks all over her form. The white dress with roses. It's a lot more formal than the spaghetti straps or frilly shirts. She looks lovelier this way. I don't know.
"Well..I'll take that as a no. Sorry. I'm just going home now."
"Do you want me to drive you back?" I urgently asked. My chest feels heavy. She purses her lips.
"Your house..I mean, the residential area is on the other end of town, you don't have to.."
"It's late, isn't it? Now get inside." My tone sounded almost like a command. Maybe I've secretly anticipated this to happen. Like a dream coming true. She comes to sit next to me again and we drive off to the red building at the edge of town.
"I..called that Dial A Song number two days ago." That sentence instantly lit her eyes up. She excitedly looks to me.
"Really? What song were they playing then?"
"I'm not sure. Stormy Pinkness. It sounded cute. Do they have other songs?"
Her hands toyed with each other with this bursting enthusiasm. She could not stop giggling all of a sudden.
"Oh I like that one..I've heard it maybe once on the phone and I do hope they put it on their new project..and..yes, they are working on a new album. But! Their debut album is still in circulation. You might find it in the kids' section though. Most of their songs have a bit of a morbid undertone that I really like."
"Okay. Did they change the song again like John promised today?"
"I haven't called. I didn't call. I met up with Marigold in Washington yesterday...it's my birthday today. We just had a catch up trip there.. Marigold is a work friend from..my old uh..office job."
I parked the truck a block away from the building to avoid being seen again.
"You should have told me earlier. Happy birthday, kitty."
"I'm 25 already. I'm not a kitty anymore." She hesitates before opening the door. She looks back and opens her mouth, mumbling out a question.
"Do you wanna.."
"Yes?"
"..Do you wanna call Dial A Song with me..right now? I-I also brought home some..sticky rice treats from my.."
And the moment after that, my body felt like it was acting out of its system. It followed her upstairs and into her room. I think I looked stupid to the women hanging around the lobby coming in with her at 9:28 pm but I just could not care less when I sat down on the floor with the receiver on my ear. I couldn't tell if that was an accordion or a trumpet. But her face is so close to mine as we shared the phone listening to it for the first time.
Hi this is John Flansburgh of They Might Be Giants. You're tuning into Dial A Song, your one way ticket to Brooklyn. Call back for another song tomorrow.
"What..what's your..telephone number?"
"Oh, it's 387-6962"
"No, your telephone." My embarrassment was resurfacing "I..I don't want them to get the wrong idea being with you all the time here."
Julianne's face softened with sadness. She carefully puts the phone down.
"I..I mean we..aren't that though. Yeah..It does look weird but I don't see it as weird at all." She whispers "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"
"No. I'm not. I don't know though because you do seem to lean towards a certain type. Woodbrook's safe and all but maybe you don't want to be seen with me and have it be interpreted another way."
She blushes. We lay down on the floor for a while until she reaches for a pad and scribbles down something.
"Thanks though. I don't mind being seen with you. Here's my number. You can take home as much malagkit as you like."
She slides the pad between my fingers and rests her palm on my knuckles.
"I could tell you like me though. You're a bit obvious."
"What?"
I pocket the paper as I walk away. I look back to her before I close the door.
"I'll call them again tomorrow. Goodnight, Julianne."
What is that woman doing to me...
Click.
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December 11th, 1987
The Bijou Theatre hasn't received any new blockbusters to premiere. Most of whatever is out at the moment in the cities is being reserved for Christmas week. They're bringing out their collection from earlier in the decade. Annie is playing from today until December 22nd. I've seen the movie once. I couldn't tell you anything other than it's a musical and it takes your mind off of work. I could also tell you Julianne is obsessed with the film. She has a tape of the movie displayed on her work shelf. She said it was her favorite movie during college and comforted her when she came to America. We could watch the movie on her TV set any time but I think I owe it to her as a birthday gift or a pacifier after making her feel bad nights ago. It's like the perfect excuse fell right into my lap. Right before walking to work, I called her telephone hoping she'd be awake by now. Thankfully someone picked up.
"Mmh..Julianne Lucky here, good morning."
"Hi, Julianne."
.
"Oh, ah..hiya Sam. How are you?" I could almost see her flushed face from here.
.
"Just about to go to work. I heard Bijou Theatre is gonna screen Annie tomorrow."
.
"A-Annie? The..the John Huston adaptation?"
.
"Think that's it. The little orphan poodle."
.
"Oh man, I guess I have to go then. It's been a bit rough lately, I need to watch it again." She overshares.
.
"I know. Would the lady of the house be busy tomorrow evening?"
.
"Ah..uhm..oh gosh..I don't think so. Sam, are you?"
.
"No, I can close the store early. Will you come watch it with me?"
.
"Well..if you don't mind then. Yes! Yes I will. If you aren't embarrassed to see me."
.
"I'm not, I promise I'm not. If it'd help I can pick you up at the apartment, or--"
.
"Let's just meet in front of Bijou, okay?" Her voice was breathy with excitement. "Thank you. I..I'll see you."
She hangs up the phone. The contagious feeling of young love streams from the telephone cord. I lean back on the door silently after putting the phone down. Oh. She said yes. I'm doing it. I'm running headfirst into the forest and not looking back. She said yes. The invitation alone was already so dizzying. It feels different inviting a stranger to a movie. For a moment I lost sight of why I was even persuing it in the first place. Maybe after tomorrow I'll be back to how I usually feel about big romantic gestures like these but I stood there for a moment with my forehead in my hand. Imagining. Dreaming of it.
She likes me.
And that's enough for the lamb to curiously look into the trap.
Click.
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parasitescholar · 1 year ago
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Weekly Recommendation: They Might Be Giants (the band)
Hello there! My queue ran out and I didn't realize....... it has been a month..... I sorry............
Anyway! This one is near and dear to me. Also gonna be full of links so warning ya now. They Might Be Giants was my first albumn, my first band, the first way I bonded with my dad as an adult and a person, and not as a parent. I had a CD player and borrowed CDs, a few burned with sharpie to label them, a few with the original inserts and all. This is the official playlist of some of my favorites, though it's not all of the songs I love (none of the kids songs on here, and Here Come Science slaps. There's an entire animated version of the album I watched over and over on dvd.)
I feel like I'm less qualified to talk about music than other media, because I don't play any instruments. After switching from the piano teacher I liked to an old witch (I assume she had magic. Mostly I remember her for the painful singing. Please let me do that you are not good at it miss.) I quit. Though I can mimic tunes well, I lost the ability to read music quickly. But I can tell you about this band and my history with it. So this is maybe the only music recommendation you're gonna get. But it will be very long, and I guarantee you will like 1 song of theirs.
This is because of the sheer amount of genres TMBG manages to cover. This bop about the sun is immediately followed by the correction in a ballad correcting it's wrongs. Though they tend to follow alt rock and ska sentiments (like this song my dad sang every time he made bacon) They have love songs, rap, and total nonsense. More than anything they like to experiment with sound. Lyrics are nice, but words are also just noise, and if it sounds good it doesn't need to make sense. Fingertips is one long song or 21 very short songs, things that could have been part of something bigger, but never made it to that stage. That said, they have some songs with actual deep themes. (And also one about underwater cows)
I feel like my playlists shows the albums I grew up with: Flood, Apollo 18, and Mink Car. Those were the songs I played over and over on my cd player, that I choreographed stupid dances too (Oh god cringe) that I thought about making LPS music videos of (oh god even more cringe) Before I turned 21, TMBG played in my city, but it was at a bar, and I couldn't go. My dad called halfway through the concert, and put on speakerphone so I could hear a distorted version of half a song. This year, I got to go to the concert for real, though only after it got cancelled three years in a row. (Covid, covid again, then a car crash yikes. Everyone lived luckily) Luckily, they played Flood, the actual first album out of the ones I had. It was really cool. Give their music a listen, find some funky tunes with lots of horns (The live horns were very good) and tell me your favorite nonsense. This is a bit unhinged but I can't really describe why I like music. It makes me bob my head, and sometimes think deeply, and sometimes fall asleep. It means childhood, it means car rides with my dad, it means standing for way too long but enjoying it anyway.
See you next week if I don't forget again. <3
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kats-chaotic-wonderland · 1 year ago
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Alright, I finally got a whole ass day off with no obligations!! Plus I am in a writing and drawing mood! So we're gonna work on shit!
Schedule and some updates under the cut. Read if you follow any of my fics.
Todays schedule:
Set some UB funkey orders to cast
Make a mouse mold
Maybe eat something we'll see
Work on Clone Adoption Agency chapter 6
Get chapter 2 of the Sylvanas fic up
Get the other character arts for the Sylvanas fic done
Finish the first batch of clone acrylic blind bags arts and hopefully get the proofs ordered
Start getting my sith lesbians fic edited, hopefully post the first chapter
Practice sewing some isopods for dice bags
Finish the ref sheet for my elemental OCs
Maybe work on the master post for my Warhammer fics.
Take some photos of my painted minis so y'all can see my unhinged work
Finish a few sorted fan arts and OC redesigns
And hopefully get all of this done before I have to get to sleep at 2am.
So as not to overwhelm people I may set a lot of this up to queue. That way I can get mini photos out without just flooding people who don't care. I have a lot of Warhammer and DND minis to get through. But with fics I'll post them ASAP so people can get a chance to read them.
I will also have a few polls up this week. I'm trying to put some standees, pins, and keychains in my shop and I want to see what people are more interested it. Some are Wow related, some is clone wars, a few niche anime characters who don't have any merch, and some other niche stuff. I'll have posts up for that between getting other things done.
For those of you waiting on fics, I apologize for the sudden delay. My new job took a while to settle into a comfortable schedule. But Wednesdays will probably be my consistent writing and work day from here on. So expect updates to be scattered around Thursday-Saturday.
As always with any of my work, I encourage comments and suggestions. I'm always happy to add other stuff to my queue. Please remember my ask box is always open and I am happy to chat while I work!
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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years ago
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Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series
• Ch. 12: Changes •
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A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧
𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬
𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡
              - David Bowie, Changes
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
- ���𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.
    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.
    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"
    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"
    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.
    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.
    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."
    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.
    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.
    "You still craving fries?"
    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"
    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.
    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"
     "Oh, yeah?"
    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"
    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"
    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"
    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.
    "If," he continues. "you take me there."
    "Take you there?"
    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."
    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.
    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"
    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.
    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.
    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.
    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"
    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."
    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.
    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.
    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"
    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.
    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.
    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.
    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"
    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"
    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.
    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.
    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.
    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"
    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.
    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.
    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.
    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.
    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.
    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.
    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.
    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"
    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"
    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"
    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.
    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.
    "Stuck forever?"
    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.
    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"
    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.
    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.
    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."
    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.
"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.
    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"
    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.
    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"
    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.
    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.
    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."
    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"
    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.
    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.
    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"
    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."
    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"
    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"
    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.
    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."
    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"
    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.
    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.
    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.
    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"
    And thus began the best meal they ever had.
- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.
    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.
    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.
    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."
    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.
    "How's your leg?"
    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.
    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.
    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.
    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.
    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."
    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.
    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"
    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.
    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.
    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."
    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.
    He missed the way things were.
    He missed Y/n.
    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.
    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -
    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."
    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?
    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.
    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."
    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.
    "I know, shrimp,"
    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.
    "Y/n!"
    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.
    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.
    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.
    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"
     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -
    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"
     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.
    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.
    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.
    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.
    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.
    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"
    "Jesus! What do you need?"
    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."
    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"
    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"
    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.
    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."
    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?
    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.
    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."
    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.
    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"
   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.
    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.
    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.
    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.
    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"
    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.
    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"
    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"
    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.
    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.
    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.
    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.
    To his relief, Y/n smiled.
    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"
    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.
    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.
    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.
    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.
    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.
    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."
    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.
    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"
    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.
    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"
    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.
    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"
    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.
    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...
    "Thanks, Doctor K,"
     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."
    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.
    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"
    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?
    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."
    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.
    "Really, it's okay,"
    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...
    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.
    "I'll call you."
    There was hope yet.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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tony-the-toe-snatcher · 3 years ago
Text
i got tagged by @almuerdesayuno and i'm always a slut for tag games so absolutely i'm gonna do this
1.) Why did you choose your URL?
tony the toe snatcher is the name i gave to a voice id do of a mob boss that steals people toes. it makes everyone uncomfortable and is probably the reason people don't want to follow me lolololol
2.) Any side blogs? if you have them name them and why you have them
I have one side blog for Bungou Stray Dogs! it's @bsdwherearethedogs and i made it because i got really into bsd and didn't wanna flood peoples dashes with my weeb shit
3.) How long have you been on tumblr?
since 2013 i think? so 8 years then? damn
4.) Do you have a queue tag?
you think i use the queue function?
5.) Why did you start your blog in the first place?
my sister had a tumblr so i decided to get one too. the first time i actually reblogged something was like 3 years after i first started my blog though, i'm not sure why i didn't bother before then
6.) Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
i love the caterpillar emoji and i'm a lesbian. i am a simple creature
7.) Why did you choose your header?
i love moomin and i thought it was cute. i like the colors and the way snorkmaiden looks
8.) What's your post with the most notes?
I made a post celebrating some of the canon wlw couples in shows in like 2020(?) and now it has almost 10,000 notes. there is Discourse in the notes. i am suffering from fame
9.) How many mutuals do you have?
several? does anyone know this number off the top of their head? idk but i love all of them dearly i see you in my notes and i go 🥰🥰🥰
10.) How many followers do you have?
177 (most of those are probably bots i haven't bothered to block tho)
11.) How many people do you follow?
194 which is surprising i thought it was way more. i'm gonna try and change that lol
12.) Have you ever made a shitpost?
yea probably. i think i posted just the word egg once but i can't remember
13.) How often do you use tumblr each day?
a lot. even more now that i have my side blog, i feel like i spend 90% of my time finding new stuff to put on it. i probably spend 3+ hours each day on here
14.) Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog? who won?
actually i get unlimited amounts of pussy so i don't have any time to get into arguments with people on fucking tumblr dot com
15.) How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?
i don't like them and sometimes that addition will be the exact reason i don't reblog something
16.) Do you like tag games?
yesyesyesyesyes a thousand times yes i love talking and participating in silly little internet games please tag me when you see something i might like!
17.) Do you like ask games?
i do! i haven't done very many but i'd love to do more drop into my inbox any time!!!!
18.) Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
i know plaid-n-converse at least has that one viral post but idk about anyone else lololol. based on the clowns that still pop up in the one popular post i have i hope none of y'all are tumblr famous
19.) Do you have a crush on a mutual?
yeah @grandmaroadkill (don't tell her shhhh)
thank you again for the tag i hope you feel enlightened and i'll tag @bazookapussy-stankhoe-5000 @grandmaroadkill @grandma-ass-slapper @nuclearpastaslut and @your-local-lesbo (i've never tagged you before but if you'd like to please feel free! if not disregard this lolol)
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