#its been 3 days of this though idk im nervous

[jessiesjaded]

Whys my doggie acting unwell and weird :(

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

-

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 

New York University, specifically. 

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 

Especially Max. 

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 

Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 

Welcome to senior year.

– 

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

– 

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 

It’s November 1st, 1985. 

Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen. 

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and yours. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is yours, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 

Steve becomes your lifeline. 

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 

It just takes time. 

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[sanccharine]

15 | child labour

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader  genre: fluff, slice of life  word count: 3.4k

warnings: description of injury, probably inaccurate, idk im not a doctor

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu.  includes: NO ONE MUHAHAHAH its a tzuyn special y'all

status: ongoing a/n: happy tzuyu day !! also happy nayeon comeback day !! and thanks to @eternallyghosting for fixing my atrocious grammar <3

masterlist | chapter 14 | chapter 16

The morning of the detention, as well as your fated talk with Chou Tzuyu, you woke up earlier than usual. Taking advantage of the rarity, you did your routine at a similar speed and headed to breakfast. The hall has never been so empty.  

Lee had picked the day where the first hour of the day would be your detention. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. Though you were grateful that you didn’t have to face your friends’ many questions and suggestions before anything. But it also meant, you were left to your devices, left to think and think and think about how to go about fixing your recent stumbling. 

Too nauseous to eat, you grabbed a muffin and made your way to the library just as the usual morning crew wandered in. Thankfully again, you didn’t catch any of your friends. 

You might have taken a detour to the library, just to stall for some time. To go over the words you wanted to say. You’d hate it if you misspoke and worsened the situation. Previously, you’d tried apologising, tried talking and she’d shut you down. Maybe this time around the pair of you would just listen. You would, you promised that to yourself. And you wouldn’t be petty. And you wouldn’t push her away. 

Simple enough? Right?

You stood at the entrance to the library. 

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion swirling in your stomach. 

In fact, you’d bet you weren’t even this distraught when the game happened. 

Clenching your fists, you pushed open the door to the library. The librarian looked at you over her glasses and clicked her tongue. You’re not a favourite, but then again, when were you?

“Professor Lee sent—”

“Detention. Head to the reference section.” Simple, the books won’t be cursed or ready to snap your fingers off. “Organisation duty.”

Don’t we have magic to do all that?

The librarian shot a glare over her glasses as if she read your mind, you just nodded and made your way. 

Sighing, you walk down the shelves, until you find the reference section. Marked off by a placard, you turned right only to walk straight into Tzuyu. With a groan, she gripped the shelf next to her while you just stumbled a step back. 

It's not surprising you’d meet like this. Not surprising at all. 

“You alright?” you asked since she was rubbing her shoulder. 

“Just fine,” she answered, short as usual. Then, she glanced at you. Her gaze shifty. “I’m fine. Are you alright?” 

“I can handle a little bump,” you chuckled, not at all disoriented. Tzuyu offered an easy smile, so you mimicked it. 

So far, simple. Easy. 

Time seemed to pause for a moment. She was still holding her shoulder as she looked at you, waiting for something. While you resorted to taking her in. You hadn’t really seen her in a while. Properly, that is. Glances during classes barely counted. And that night, that night before the game was such a strange time for the both of you. So, in a way, you were glad she didn’t look so sunken. 

There was still an air of tenseness around Tzuyu. But her hair had returned to its usual state, though for once it was completely down and her eyes had some light in them, expectant. You were grateful. Having been the first task of the day, your tie was still intact, your buttons done to the top, and your shirt still tucked. For once, you could appear in front of Tzuyu without being your usual dishevelled self.

This was good. 

“You’re here early,” she said. 

“So are you.”

Tzuyu just hummed with a twitch of her lips. Of course, her being early was not strange at all. 

You nodded, gaze shifting as you gulped. You hoped it didn’t sound as loud to her as it did to you. 

“I think we should talk,” Tzuyu let go of her shoulder and fully pushed the book in front of her onto the shelf. 

“I think so, too,” you agreed. 

“Help me?” She tilted her head to the cart and you nodded. 

Very quickly, Tzuyu explained the organisation system (which was way more complicated than it needed to be, and again, is this not what magic is for?). Considering the number of reference books you had to replace, you decided to organise them into piles on a table first. That way, you don’t have to go to separate shelves one by one, plus it allowed you to stay in one place and talk to each other. 

You handed her books from the cart and she organized them into the piles you needed.

“So how do we start this?” you asked, pointing out the code on the book. 

“I wanted to apologise,” you bit back the urge to say she didn’t have to. 

When you didn’t say anything and handed another book, she continued. “Starting from the fight, I’m sorry for hitting you with that curse. It wasn’t meant for you. Honestly… I don’t know what came over me.”

Tzuyu paused as she looked over a particularly hefty textbook. 

“It’s not often I behave so… impulsive,” she admitted, “I didn’t even think when I cast the spell.” 

She took in a wavering breath. 

“I know you know, but I want to say it again. It was me who cursed you… wandless,” Tzuyu said, naturally avoiding your gaze as she turned to place the textbook at the far end. “I don’t know what came over me, or frankly how I did it, it just happened. Actually, the first time I’ve successfully cast a wandless spell.”

“Successful is an understatement,” you joked. You fought a grin when that earned a chuckle out of Tzuyu. 

“Thanks. I don’t regret it—as in, if it hit Hyukwoo as it was supposed to, I would do it again,” Tzuyu quickly clarified as she took another book from you. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle, and it was so potent, with your hand and—”

“It's fine,” you quickly reassured her. There was no more desire to hide your left hand, even though it twitched from time to time. “I told you right? That I shattered my wrist?”

She nodded, resting slightly on a pile of books.

Well, you guess you hadn’t explicitly addressed her when you explained your injury. Plus, crucial information had been omitted. 

“During our second year, me and Yeri finally got to play as beaters together. Hyukwoo, desperately, wanted the position. So he did what he knew best and jinxed me, mid-game,” you laughed at the memory. Though at the time, you couldn’t even feel your arm. “I lost control of my broom and the bludger I was waiting for tore through it.” 

One look at Tzuyu’s horrified expression and you wanted to take your words back. 

“I’m fine, it was fine!” you shook your left hand just to let her know. She wasn’t convinced. “I mean twelve-year-olds have twig-like bones, it makes sense—”

“Don’t you have protection? Or gear or something to prevent this from happening?” Tzuyu furrowed her eyebrows, a mixture of concern and disgust threaded through them. “How can it be safe for kids that young—”

“Yes, we have protection, gloves, and guards, but,” you stepped away from the cart and pulled back your left sleeve. Using your right, you push back your left palm as far as it goes and let your index finger stop at the faint line by your wrist. “See that line, just where the palm connects to the arm,” Tzuyu nodded. “Completely unprotected, but I mean we sort of need it for mobility. I was weak, I was out of control, and in the wrong position. All that put together equals a shattered wrist.”

Tzuyu just stared at you in a daze while you explained your injury to her as easily as she explained how to cast conjuration spells. 

“Don’t know all the technical terms, plus, I think I was passed out or sedated for most of it. But Madam Yun said my muscle had torn open, hence limpness, and bones shattered to pieces,” Tzuyu pressed her fingers to her lips, physically stopping the squeak that left her lips. “She said it took her days to heal it slowly, just so the bones mended itself, but mended correctly in there. If that makes sense?”

“And you still play Quidditch?” Tzuyu asked, utterly aghast. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you. 

“Seems like it,” you smirked at her as you shook your hand to loosen it up. “But yeah, thanks to magic, it’s all good. Just—”

“Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“What?” 

“Why would you play when it's so dangerous?” 

“Because it's fun?” you answered plainly and she pulled a face. 

“Can’t be so fun, you’d risk your body over and over again,” Tzuyu scoffed, before turning back to the books. She didn’t have any new ones to add to the piles because you hadn’t handed her any. So she resorted to aligning the piles as straight as possible. “What happened to Hyukwoo, then? Why is he not expelled?”

Well, that’s a question you ask every year. But, unfortunately, you knew the reason. 

Same reason, you were still at Hogwarts too. In a way. 

“Guess what? One of his idiot friends snitched on him, terrified out of his mind when he saw how serious the injury was,” Tzuyu pinched her lips together while shaking her head, her eyes cold. You’ve never seen Tzuyu express so much… ever. That too, in such a short amount of time. “Hyukwoo hid when I was hospitalized, but then only confessed—full snot and tears— when his friend ratted on him. Yeri beat the shit out of him, broke his nose almost as bad as he broke my wrist.”

You snorted again, hoping that Tzuyu would join, instead she was turning a deadly shade of crimson. Surprisingly there was no steam bellowing out of her ears. Your laugh fell, deciding to drop any attempts at jokes altogether. 

“Both Yeri and Hyukwoo were suspended,” you admitted, a statement that sobered you. 

Once you caught wind of the disciplinary action taken against Yeri, you’d run to write a letter to your parents, not caring you weren’t supposed to leave the hospital wing. You’d begged them for almost a whole week straight to do something to prevent them from expelling Yeri altogether. 

They weren’t happy you were injured. They weren’t happy you were playing Quidditch instead of focusing on your studies. They weren’t happy you’d befriended someone like Yeri. And worst of all, that you were demanding that they’d use their name to pull strings. 

Finally, they came through. At a cost. 

Hyukwoo had planned to injure you and cast a spell on you during a game. He should’ve been expelled. 

Yeri’s retaliation, although she injured another student, did it on your behalf and didn’t use any spells. Seeing as it was her first severe misconduct, her parents should've been notified, and maybe lost her privileges. 

Instead, Hyukwoo’s parents did the most to ensure Yeri was expelled and their son got away scot-free. When that didn’t happen, it only meant your parents had done what they promised. So you had to do what you promised. 

You looked away, turning your body completely to face the cart. You needed a minute to reset. A moment away from Tzuyu’s stare. 

“But yeah,” you said, fishing out a book and checking the code. “It healed weirdly, I didn’t take as much rest as I should’ve. So even without your curse, it acts up from time to time. You don’t really have anything to apologise for on that front.” 

With that done, you turned to give her a book. Tzuyu was in a daze as she took it from you. 

“Tzuyu?” you said, voice very quiet. Though you knew she heard when her eyes snapped to you. “You’re… ?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she nodded before clearing her throat. “Where were we?”

“You were apologising?” You tried a smile and she rolled her eyes in return. That will do. 

“Right, next was the plan,” Tzuyu’s whole body sagged. “Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking— I don’t think I was thinking at all! Yeosang was so against it, I asked him to lie as soon as he fixed you. And, of course, on the way he and Wooyoung did the heavy lifting.” 

You nodded, handing her another book. 

“Honestly, it was so stupid, I panicked and just said whatever and Yeosang was kind enough that he just went with it,” she sighed and corrected a pile. “Seems Lee is like that, too.”

“Yeah, I don't know how you thought lying to Lee would work.”

“I wasn’t thinking, I told you,” you just laughed at her admission. 

You hummed when Tzuyu paused. When she didn’t say anything more you decided to ask the question. 

“Why did you protect me?” 

Tzuyu looked up at you. Like a deer caught in a trap. 

“I, um, I didn’t know what else to do,” she confessed. “There was no other option. No other right option.” 

Then she nodded to herself before looking at you again. A steeliness in her gaze. 

“Like I said, I don't regret it, not any of it,” she said. “I’m only sorry how I treated you after. Even if I did want to lie for you, it was not something I make a habit of, I was questioning myself and then lashed out at you.” 

“Yeah, no, I get it. I’m sorry for how I behaved too,” it was your turn to do some admitting. “I try—I try so hard to look perfect around you. I don’t know why I do it, I just do. Even though I know that you know who I am or how many fights I’ve been in, or how I sleep in class or don't tuck in my shirt or whatever. For some reason, it bothers me. What you think of me bothers me. I care so much about it—and I don’t know, after weeks of some normalcy, that fight shattered everything. There was blood on my hands, literally—”

“I’ve seen you fight before.”

“What?” 

“Y/N, every student has seen you punch someone at least once in their school year, I’m no different,” Tzuyu said, wearing an almost maternal smile. 

“No, yeah, I know. I know that,” you mumbled the last bit of the sentence, “it just bothers me is all.”  

“Hmm?” Tzuyu tilted her chin up in question, but you just shook your head. For a moment, she narrowed her eyes, hoping you’d expand. When you didn’t, she spoke again. “For what it's worth, I admire your courage. I mean I can’t say I approve of the method, literally,” Tzuyu paused to point at her prefect badge. “But I am yet to see you fight for the wrong matter.” 

When you just stared at her, Tzuyu cleared her throat. 

“That’s all,” she said, returning to her piles. 

“Was it you?” 

Tzuyu was forced to look up at you again. Her mouth twitching to ask the question innocently, even though she knew what you were talking about.

“The cushioning spell,” you clarified. 

“It would seem so,” Tzuyu cleared her throat again and walked over to a nearby shelf with a book. 

“Thank you,” you said, as genuinely as you could. Tzuyu only mumbled back her acknowledgement. 

After that, the pair of you got into a comfortable silence. 

What had you been so worried about? 

Your conversation with Tzuyu couldn’t have gone smoother. She said her part, you said yours, neither of you had anything to apologize for, nothing of substance. Yet both of you had agonized over it the last week or so. You, so much so, your hand had begun quivering the moment you started thinking about her. How ridiculous, you thought as you raised your left arm to shelve away another book. 

Besides, what had been there to worry about? 

You felt so stupid. 

“I feel kind of stupid,” you startled when Tzuyu sidled up to you, placing another book on a shelf above yours. “I feel like we were worried about nothing, thinking back on it.” 

“Game season,” you added, “tensions were high… we were stuck in our heads.” 

You paused to think about the same string of words your friends repeated to you, over and over and over again. 

“It happens,” you concluded and she chuckled. 

“Yeah, I guess it does.” 

Your detention had gone past much faster than an hour-long lesson would. So quick, you sort of missed the atmosphere. Just you and Tzuyu at the library, alone (well, with enough imagination that is), shelving books side by side in silence. Time seemed frozen and it was comfortable. As you grabbed your bags and stepped outside the library, the sounds of rushing students filtered and you had to bite back the disappointment. You had to head back to class when you only longed for more time with Tzuyu. 

“Excited for Transfiguration?” Tzuyu asked, her voice pitched up with mischief. “You just look so… zealous.”

You raised an eyebrow while she tried to tamp back her growing smile. 

“How do I actually look?” you asked, a smile of your own growing. 

“Like you're going to throw up,” she straightened, looking forward. 

“That seems more accurate,” you said, taking a glance at Tzuyu’s profile. She was still trying to reign in her smile. But when someone pointed at the pair of you, she acted as if she were brushing at her nose, and quickly her smile disappeared. Her and her carefully orchestrated mask. You decided to toy with her, to crack through it, you deserved such joy. Even if it came at your expense. “Now that I think about it, I am excited for Transfiguration.”

Tzuyu hummed her question, her head tilting subtly as her eyes never wavered from the parting crowd ahead of you. Should you do it here?

“Well, I’ll finally get to talk to you again,” her eyes narrowed as she turned to you in the slightest. “I missed you.” 

Something like a squeak escaped Tzuyu’s lips and in an instant, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted around, measuring and calculating. But even if she showed no overt sign, the rising rouge blush was a marker for the effect your words had on her. 

Good.

You pressed a palm to your cheek, you were burning up too. You figured as much. 

“Yeosang not a good teacher?” Tzuyu tilted her head up, her eyes glimmering. You had to admit, she was good. 

“Pales in comparison to you,” you said and grinned when you saw Tzuyu struggle to not grin back. “But who wouldn’t?”

“That’s enough of your flattery,” she huffed, picking up her pace. “It won’t get you anywhere. Don’t try it.”

“I’m not trying anything.” Why were you smiling so much? You should stop, your cheeks hurt.

Even with whatever game you and Tzuyu were playing, you didn’t miss the way people murmured around you. A singular glance behind your back showed most turning away and shushing their friends. Shouldn’t they be in class?

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Tzuyu. 

She had stopped at the entrance to Lee’s class. She was waiting for you. Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag, twisting and untwisting. You quickened your pace to meet her there. 

“Speaking of Transfiguration,” she glanced at the door just as you stopped in front of her. “I have something for you.” 

She opened her book bag and rummaged through it, before pulling out a textbook. 

Your textbook, soiled and tarnished, but it was your Transfiguration textbook. 

“I found it on the grass later that day,” she handed it to you. “Cleaned it up and had to let it dry. Would’ve returned it to you earlier but we…”

“Weren’t being mature.”

“I was going to say we weren’t on speaking terms,” she chuckled as you took the book from her. You flipped through the pages. Yes, some were dirtied but Eunbi’s notes still remained, only slightly muddled, though with her handwriting it didn’t really change too much. “But that works too.” 

Closing the book, you looked at her. “Thanks.”

Tzuyu looked at you, somewhat unsure. Then her glance shifted down the corridor, her eyes steely as the last of the juniors rushed away. Even though she was doing her job, you noted for what it was. A minute distraction from you. 

Then it clicked in your head. 

The library. The silence. The longing. 

The answer couldn’t have been more clear. 

“Tzuyu.”

For the first time, you reached out. First. 

“Teach me,” you said, “be my tutor.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: call me hamilton the way im writing these chapters non-stop ! would you believe me if i said i wrote 13, 14 and 15 back to back within like 4 days ? i certainly wouldn't believe me :P anygays have a good day/night everyone !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @tatliegilim @nanabongos @pandafuriosa60 @eternallyghosting

send an ask to be added !

[princesssmars]

Can you please do a Teen Dash Parr x reader when Dash meets reader before his track race and he wins the race to impress reader

P.s love your story’s

because you've been waiting so long i decided to turn this into something simple and cute! dash is pretty young so idk if i'll do more fics of him in the future but i will finish this for you <33

this is a pretty platonic!dash parr x reader <3

after that first successful race, dash still had a bit of trouble regulating himself when it came to his races. he knows he's good and that even without powers he's pretty sure he'd leave his opponents in the dust, so constantly holding himself back is a challenge.

through elementary and middle school its a breeze, but when he reaches halfway through middle school some of his teammates are damn good, and being faster than them might bring a bit much attention.

nevertheless, he decides to stick to track and goes to try out for the track team, which is going on as some of the other more outdoor sports practices.

that's the first time he sees you, trying out for the girls track team running beside him and keeping up your pace with him ?????

as soon as practice is over you know he's coming up to you immediately and introducing himself because he HAS to know the name of the non-supe who was able to easily keep up with him.

he didnt expect you to be as snarky as he is though, so while he doesn't take it to heart it does start a littl rivalry between you two.

(although violet is always teasing him that he was a crush on you ???? because he's constantly bringing up annoying things you did during practice at dinner but she's just crazy.)

it's also constant teasing in the hallways, throwing disses to the other like "you should see a doctor, parr. you looked pretty green when i left you in the dust yesterday."

he had to admit, it was both infuriating and entertaining.

eventually may comes, the end of the track season and time for the biggest races of the year. the girls' team was a day before the boys, and dash took his mom's advice to be a bigger person and go see you race.

you were nothing short of amazing, and he never though he'd be so glad someone other than himself got first place.

his mom insists you come to their house for dinner to celebrate, much to his protest, and you happily agree while giving him that look that says "im going to make things so much harder for you."

and if you ignored his parents never ending questions, his sisters constant teasing and jack jack almost revealing his powers, it was a nice dinner!

the next day is dash's race, and for the first time in years he's really nervous. the guys competing against him have gotten more skilled over the course of the year, and there's over a hundred people in the stands.

but then, in the middle of the countdown, he sees you sitting with his family, wearing the biggest smile he's ever seen and giving him a thumbs up while saying "you got this."

its safe to say he won that race.

[the-s1lly-corner]

I'M SORRY I KNOW I SHOULD'VE LIKE PUT THIS IN THE SAME REQUEST BUT AFTER I READ YOUR TIMXDECEASED!READER I GOT AN IDEA..

BUT IDK HOW THIS WORKS LIKE WHAT IF SHE GOT REVIVED OR SMTH (OR LIKE IDK SHE DIDN'T EXACTLY D*E JUST WENT MISSING OR SOMETHING BUT GOT DECLARED DEAD?)

AND BTW

I love the way you write and thank you thank you so much for Doug my request:3

Remember to rest and stay hydrated mwa I love you!!<333

-🙀 anon

Tim x reader who went missing but returns!

UEUEUEUEUE thank you!! i was so nervous that the post was going to be kind EUGH!! since im rusty with MH and my brains foggy on the lore + still experimenting with how i write the og/mh versions of tim !! admin grew up with creepypasta first marble hornets later (though its been a blast getting into mh!! yahoo!!) that said i hope you enjoy this as well!! previous post/post in question!

just like a lightning bolt i was struck with the image of tim and reader hugging, studio ghibli style. you know. like getting INTO it

though.... would it be in character? in not sure, actually..! because on one hand i can see him being happy to see you still kicking, after being supposedly "dead" for lord k nows how long, but i can also see him cautious... like are you a threat? are you going to pull some stuff? i think it depends on how far into the whole mess of MH that this would take place in

thinks

god know because you know how in the other post i mentioned that he would make a little memorial... thing for you. like its just a space somewhere with your picture and some stuff you like/had. thats going to be fun to explain to you. probably takes it down when youre confirmed to still be alive

do not tease him about it. i do think that would actually cause some issues. like i thought about this as a joke but can you imagine how messed up that would be, to try to joke with him about that?

therapy. you guys both go to therapy. i mean he needed it even before you showed back up, but i doubt you just suddenly coming home is going to erase all the grieving he went through

"youre just as beautiful as the day i lost you"/ref or however the quote goes

oooooooouuuugh imagine its been so long and you guys have the rekindle your relationship if you guys want to make things work

i dont know, the admin just enjoys tropes like that. same energy as the "we knew each other in a past life and have once again found our way to each other" but in a different font... kinda...

if this is post-MH you guys both grieve together over all that was lost/who had died, as well as generally trying to recover

i do think that after the initial shock he would ask a few questions... though im not actually sure if he would interrogate you... i can see both, actually. on one hand he wants to know exactly what happened to you and where youve been, but on the other hand hes just so exhausted that he doesnt think he can handle the truth for the foreseeable future

baby steps, you know

[sillysaurus]

wanted to answer some of these

What's your big age: 18

What ages do you regress to: mainly around 0-5?

Baby, toddler, or big kid: mainly toddler/preschool and baby, rarely older than those

Do you pet regress: no, i do identify with bunnies though (maybe bunnykin??)

Are you also a caregiver: no, and i don't want to be in that position

How long have you been regressing: since i was about 12? so like 6 years?

Is your regression voluntary or involuntary: mostly involuntary, but i will induce it voluntarily in almost all of my free time

What is your personality like when regressed: fussy/sensitive, whiney crybaby im ngl, quiet/not talkative, but giggly, clingy, shy/sheepish, curious, despite being sensitive and difficult i am always well behaved

How often do you regress: im almost always kind of regressed, but usually i am masking and able to act my age, but if something triggers me more i wont be able to act my age anymore

What puts you into headspace: praise, petnames, baby talk/cooing, gentle/soft tones of voice, people doing things for me, being tired/scared/in pain/sick

What pulls you out of headspace: nsfw, violence, romance, sometimes people cursing (i do a lot and cant stop myself unfortunately), being in public (usually)

Do you have a baby voice in headspace: maybe? kind of? idk but i do talk a bit differently, honestly i talk a lot less but when i do its short words/broken sentences, whiny/softer in tone, etc.

Why do you regress: its mostly involuntary (because of trauma, i believe) but i do it voluntarily as well because its the only time i really feel safe and happy (even though a lot of my regression is negative/vent)

Neon, pastel, neutral, or dark colors: either pastel or dark. odd combo, but i wear black most of the time due to being alternate but my favorite color is blue! i love light/baby blues

Favorite regression clothes: i still wear my alternative clothing style while regressed but i like big hoodies and fuzzy socks as well. i also really want overalls and bloomers!

Do you have a caregiver: no (i would like one, some day)

Do you have any sibbies: no (unsure about having them, open to it i guess?)

Favorite petnames: sweetheart, sweet boy, (anything with 'sweet'), little boy, hun/honey, bud/buddy, goober

Favorite snack: applesauce, fruits, yogurt

Favorite movie(s): the nightmare before christmas, the BFG, sharkboy and lavagirl, rugrats go to paris

Favorite cartoon(s): craig of the creek, rugrats, curious george, summercamp island, alvin and the chipmunks, kindergarten the musical, tmnt

Favorite game(s): animal crossing, stardew valley, twisted wonderland, slime rancher, cookie run

Do you have a comfort character: könig, eyeless jack, laughing jack, moondrop, idia shroud, sundrop, nanami (jjk),

Are you easily scared: yes, scared of thunder, heights, the dark, yelling, etc. and just very nervous and sensitive in general

Independent or dependent: i dont want to be independent but im forced to at the moment, my dream is to be very dependent one day

Do you use a pacifier: yes, usually when im sleepy, upset, or grinding my teeth. i only have one but i want more

Do you use diapers: i wish…

Gear wishlist: everything! a crib, kid/soft books, indoor tent, bottles, sippy cups, plates, silverware, etc, diapers, idk if they make ones big enough but hopefully a high chair, car seat, baby bouncer, and ball pit as well

Favorite regression item: i only have one pacifier and some dinosaur sippy cups but i love them <3

Do you have a bedtime: no (i stay up late) but i would like one, not gonna happen until i get a caregiver though

Do you have rules: no, but one day when i have a caregiver i would like them, unsure about what though besides a bedtime. hopefully they can get me to stop cursing as well

Favorite animal(s): bunnies, marine animals, pigs, monkeys

Favorite holiday: halloween!

Favorite season: autumn/fall

Are your agere interests more fem or masc: definitely masc. dinosaurs, trains, construction vehicles, monster trucks, cartoons/movies/books about boys, tmnt

Do you stim more when regressed: im almost always regressed but yes, mainly vocal stims when im really feeling small

Favorite site/app for regression community: here!! tumblr! i was on reddit and instagram back in the day… (i still use instagram but not much)

What's your favorite thing to learn about in headspace: im learning spanish and german! but i just like learning in general, i like when people tell/teach me about things!

[knizuu]

Talk to me abt uhhh anything- Fang, Petey, OC, idc. ANYTHING U WANT💖💖

PLEASE IM GENUINELY INTERESTED IM NOT DOING THIS JUST CUS U LET ME- /gen

I get so nervous writing asks wtf

DUDE IM SO DUCKING HAPPY +omg same </33

COUGH well imma go in order lets go with the

FANG🫧….

SIGHH I LOVE HIM SM. tbh I see how people react to the recent idw miniseries which left the Hooligan fans really sour </33 to me, though, it wasn’t too bad?? I see how it works and honestly the only sad part to me is WHY DID HOOLIGANS BREAK UP AUH but im so used to “sonic canon ew” so like-I should’ve expected that sigh. So I can reason with how excited people headcannon/draw/make whatever of the guy it’s really cool since we all kinda agree? Like even with such a variety we all take the guy lovingly <33 which is sweet :> like its pretty chill-WHCIH IS FUNNY because Im actually really scared in small communities <- i made a post bout it once i-I EAT UP ANY FAN MADE FANG CONTENT FR i love all fangs really [so far] ^ ^ tbh even my school knows that-I did pottery of him, drawn him, spoke of him, my teacher saw a drawing of Fang I did and HE QUOTE: I was looking for that [SIR I GET IT IM PREDICATABLE/silly]

PETEY💠

Ok as much as heartfelt I feel about Fang-Petey is just some other freak of nature my family knows. I’m NOT EVEN JOKING-MY MOM SANG ABOUT HIM WHILE MAKING LUNCH/GEN GEN GEN-cough. Idk why but ever since my brother [the first dog man fan obviously] inserted dog man into my family [by 1. SHOWING MY FANART/BOOKS TO MUM 2. LETTING ME SING THE MUSICAL ALL DAY LON-/positive fs] its been insane/sILLY because-who expected everyone to say “Papa Petey” [i do NOT know how some typo made mo-ok my mom has a Petey problem/sILY AGAIN] in the car-at home…NOT ME THATS WHO. WHY IS PETEY SUCH A NORMAL THING IN MY HOUSEHOLD/positive sigh

OC🌸

OKK well they are ALMOST a wasteland but I have an original story to bring some ocs to life ^ ^ [including-sigh vague mention-the space dog lady and red haired lady ocs i have :3] ESSENTALLY: I’m calling it Brink of Bryony!! [Bryony is about a flower but in plot idk a city??] it’s just a human loser [red haired lady MAYBE] meeting alien folk [Cordella is there…i showed her ONCE] like my self insert hehe [Norolist] because OH NO beeg mister evil guy wants to take over Earth and this NICE alien people gonna protect it! That’s the entire thing, very unserious lmao. Pyrexavul is my precious <33 I don’t think I shared him?? I’ll share em all sometime hehe im too lazy LMAO. So yes yes I’ve been into making that story recently :> !!

ANYTHING🦐

OK SO my Luxury AU has been MANIFESTING MOI cuz i decided: why yes I WILL make a fic bout it!! Yknow just remaking the lore[cough this means me rewriting the first book of DogMan] and putting some stuff into one work ^ ^’ SO FAR I’m really getting into the vibes but what’s crazy is how I turned what I THOUGHT was oughta be a comedy-to a tragedy. No like I KNOW IM GONNA WRITE CUTE STUFF I WILL I JUST-….also might’ve included grief, addiction, ETC I dont even know how I got there 🙂‍↔️but it’s been fun! Especially since it makes me go down a nice study check with me lmao [I’ve been learning the medical field, laws, how media handles stuff, types of _, etc] hehe rubbing my hands together imma be so happy to write it all hehe and with that I’m learning about my characters a lot better! I thought of it more one noted because its a good start but now im actually learning more bout em :0 !! Love reworking stuff, redesigning, it’s been a huge part of me since idk when ^ ^’

COUGHHHH i think that all works out!! TYSM FOR ASKING I CANNOT EXPRESS THE WHIMSY I FEEL RN <33

[megamindsecretlair]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 😚 for anyone who cares, here's a bit about me! 🥹

General rule: I may overshare in dms and authors notes sometimes but Im generally a private person 🤣 to the point Ive lost friends over it. ive been working with my coworkers for 3 years and they dont know shit about me 🤣 I juss really love yall and feel safe with yall so here we go!

1. Were you named after anyone?

No. My mom didnt want our names to announce who we were on applications so we all got regular smegular names. My name is of Irish origin so my yt folks customer service voice got ppl thinkin I have red hair. I mean....technically yes but its buried under my braids 🤣

2. When was the last time you cried?

At the end of The Marvels. The first end credit had me in real, actual tears. On a more serious note, I last cried before my grandma died. Yall, its fn hard being a caretaker. I was not built Ford Tuff.

3. Do you have kids?

*ahem* 🗣🗣 fuck no! 🤣🤣🤣 I dont even have nieces or nephews. Kids make me nervous and Im pretty sure they can smell the fear on me. 🤣

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I played basketball and softball in HS. I love and miss softball all the time even though my big behind HATES running.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm is one of my love languages. I put that shit on everything 🤣 Physical Touch is my main one since we sharing.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Ooof, tough. Depends. Some quirk like glasses, lisp, moles. How they walk/talk, the way they laugh. I am a lurker by trade. Overly shy kid and writer by nature will do that to ya.

7. What is your eye color?

Dark brown. When that sun hits 🫠🫠🫦

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I am a HUGE scaredy cat. I dont do scary movies nothin! Happy endings over here! 🤸🏽‍♀️ I will enjoy a thriller but only behind my hands and mostly starring Matthew Lillard.

9. Any talents?

.....no? I have a bunch of useless knowledge or trivia that no one asked for but ya gonna get 🤣 . Juss realized writing is considered a talent 😭 so that too 🤣

10. Where were you born?

US, West Coast baybeee

11. What are your hobbies?

Obvs, writing. Reading, sewing, cons, tarot, tv, listening to music, video games (xbox, switch, PC girlie) , Marvel. Marvel is a hobby. I will talk your ear off. That is both a threat and a promise 😚

12. Do you have any pets?

I have two gorgeous Boston Terriers who run me into the ground every day. Idk why my mom thought two was okay 🫠🫠 my Black ass tide 🥲 👏🏽

13. How tall are you?

Fun sized 5'3 and a half 👏🏽👏🏽🤣 pear shaped. I got ass for days but in the itty bitty titty committee. 😭😭😭😭😭

14. Favorite subject in high school?

Definitely English. My English teacher was so fine 🥲🥲 thats not WHY it was my fave but can ya blame me 😩 I loved reading the books but I hated the themes they shoved down our throats. What if that wasnt MY interpretation of the book??? Hmmm? Some faves include: Their Eyes Were Watching God (Teacake 🥵🥵🥵), Brave New World, Bright Lights Big City (probably where my love of second person is from) , Bronx Masquerade, and The Outsiders. And FUCK the Great Gatsby. If I hear about that damn green light one 👏🏽 mo 👏🏽 fn 👏🏽 time 👏🏽😩😡 and FUCK Of Mice and Men, he aint have to do all that in the end. And DOUBLE FUCK I Know Why the Caged Bird sings. Turned my stomach when she described the SA. Lemme stop 🥴

15. Dream Job?

Writer. I will publish, I will be successful, and I will live the life I want. I claim it 😩 on my Octavia Butler, NK Jemisin, Danielle Allen shit 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Whew! That was fun 😭🤣

No pressure tags: @mybonafidefeelings @bratzmaraj @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @westside-rot @saturn-rings-writes @notapradagurl7 @wide-nose-and-wonderful @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @harmshake @targaryenvampireslayer and who wants to do one. I love learning bout my moots.

[5-htagonist]

god damn im so happy rn... ill stick it under a readmore bc its about food and my appetite idk if it would be triggering also this turned into more of a diary entry than anything lol My Blog My Rules though

i made curry last night and im really happy because ive been having a lot of trouble eating and Making myself eat, on top of being really erally really broke so we havent had much food in the house thats just Ready To Go consistently.. like, we always have oats, but we dont always have milk, and i cant eat them with water.. or we have ham but we run out of bread, or all i want are fruits and leafs but we cant really keep anything except apples/oranges/grapes because they dont go bad before we finish them, or bananas cause they arent really ruined if theyre overripe you just throw them in the freezer. so we cant get salad materials.

if i try to just shove calories in my body and i dont like it i wont finish it. like i will feel full until i stop trying to make myself eat it. and this isnt even just when adderall affects my appetite.

then, on top of all that, i know if i eat i have to do dishes. my husband usually does them, but hes been going through a really bad time for the past couple months too, plus we only moved out july 2023, and before that his mom had been Divorced outta the house earlier that year iirc plus id been living there since july 2022, so his brain and nervous system has felt safe enough for the ptsd recovery stage for nearly 2 years. and he gets hit really hard with seasonal depression, and he has adhd too. he typically does dishes, i typically do laundry. the problem is its easier to wear the same clothes for a few days, or rewear laundry that isnt rancid, or wear ill fitting clothes that have been shoved to the back of the dresser, but its hard to wash a dish when the sink is full and the kitchen is overwhelming.

so, to avoid having dirty dishes, i wont eat. whats worse, is i was insanely stressed over school for like 3 weeks. all the stress i should have had this semester hit me really bad all at once. when im that stressed, i cant think about anything relevant to maintaining myself-- especially not maintaining neutral-positive self talk and constructive self esteem. which means i shut down if anyone needs anything from me real or imagined. which means i cant be there for my husband and make sure he eats and check in on him. so all this stupid shit just feeds into itself. ive had more s/h urges than ive had in years i think, and not even in response to anything extrinsic.

my goofy ass got drunker than i usually do super quick the other night, it wasmy husbands birthday party. i cleaned up the apartment super nice since mostly my stuff was strewn everywhere and did the dishes. i didnt eat all day and i think i had like, one inadequate meal the day before. so i was exhausted after cleaning, our roommate ordered pizza and i ate and passed out for 3 hour nap. by the time i got up everyone was already at Least buzzed. my brother in law got a mom call and my husband (drunk) was like Hey. Give me the Phone.. tell her i wanna talk... because she LOVES being upset that her kids are having a good time and feels the need for Hour Phone Call when and where she wants it, and my BIL is an adult but they dont treat him like one, so hes still really deep in feeling trapped in these trauma responses.

this i think is what really got me, other than not being on my full dose of adderall so my emotional abilities were compromised lmao. i was tryingto tell my husband i love him, because i was leaving to weed store, and he was getting triggered while drunk, so he was annoyed i was interrupting the call and i didnt get my byebyehugnkiss. not to mention they were being really loud earlier. so now i feel bad. i get back immediately down 2 shots (3 shots is where i am Comfortably Drunk) and share a j actually post cancelled kendrick just dropped. the point was that i got too drunk and started hitting myself on the head and crying in the kitchen floor lol but who cares about that KENDRIIIIIIICKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

[lordsardine]

/fic ramble

on god i wish i had a beta for this fic -- Like I'm slogging through trying to figure out how to approach the end of it

like honestly part 1 and 2 could be their own separate fics. they'd be Stronger with part 3, but they do stand alone. so maybe i DO just make them seperate fics? that way i can post part 1 and 2, ask for feedback or a beta or something for part 3, but then also not feel bad because part 1 and 2 are done and wrapped up enough that readers wont feel left hanging....

..........i think we'll do that??

but then i need to figure out how i want to post it, which is fucking dumb, but it's like. do i post them both in their entirety all at once? like there are arguments for that and arguments for posting it chapter by chapter.

like maybe i'll post the entire part 1 first and then one chapter of part 2 and then make people wait a few days in between for the other chapters, but idk if that's arbitrary. like if i do that, i might as well wait a few days in between each part 1 chapter, but there isn't like heavy ship content there, so it doesn't feel worth to do that. or maybe i just post part 1, wait a few days, then post part 2 in its entirety

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

and part 3 like i guess i have 1 chapter for it. and i have plans for the rest of it. it's just a matter of tightening it up or deciding what should be included or not. or if what im including is actually interesting to read

im just fucking rambling now

i think at this point im going to do my heavy grammar edits for part 1 and part 2 and go ahead with posting. the exact cadence which i post them i guess we'll fucking see (though im nervous about having them be two separate fics with different ratings and then one being labeled part 2 will affect how many people read it 🙃)

EDIT

i think this plan is what will work for me.....

now i just need to do some major grammar editing. i have another stupid little project ive been working on that i'll finish up first and then tackle this (while meeting MG deadlines.....) - i'll then post part 1 in its entirety and then wait a week for part 2

it's a plan, and it's a plan that let's me not write in a complete vacuum.......and also not feel entirely bad if i dont update the thing ''timely''

i think. anyway. at least came up with Something and will tackle this more next week

[muff1nqwq]

sorry i havent been around in a while, things have gotten crazy, im sure you get it. my first day of being a sophmore (10th grader) starts tomorrow and while im not extremely nervous it is also 11:50 at night and i have to wake up at 6:15, ignore the specific time as it is never specific, its an estimate at best.

i have this thing called band camp that has been going on for the last couple of days. basically i play my trumpet (her name is Margaret) for 4 hours in preparation for football season (im in the band, we have to play at football games) idk where you are ofc, so to clarify, this is american football. the concussion sport.

i picked up tarot reading and it's super silly, i would recommend. its funny to think that the cards are supposed to have their own personality. id say that i dont see it, but they told me to shut up once, sassy ass cards...

i havent been hurting myself as much because of how busy i am + how cold it is. a thing about me is that i cannot ever cvt when its cold. maximum discomfort. 0/10 stars. not funky fresh.

my ex and i started talking less often and im kinda glad it happened, which might be mean to say, considering were friends still, but theres so much to do, to worry about that i can barely keep up with things.

anyways, i think thats most of it. btw if you ever dont know how to respond to one of my rambles, id love it if you might just add your own story? about anything!!!! i like hearing from you!

— rin

hiya Rin :DDD I missed u!!

GL in school!! I'm gonna b a Freshman this year and I'm excited-nervous abt it... At least its gonna b the same ppl ( even though the principal warned us abt a rush of new students, but its better than going 2 a brand new school ) I gotta fix my sleep schedule so bad, I stay up till 3am and wake up at noon :'3

:0000 IM IN BAND TOO :DD I play clarinet :3 ( btw I love how u called football the "concussion sport" XDDDD )

Tarot reading sounds so cool :000 i rlly like astrology and numerology ( I'm an Aquarius :3 )

4 me it's still hot af here, even though snow melted like 3 weeks b4 summer break :> but yesterday I went 2 go walk my doggo and right as we were turning back, it started raining, and my dumbass didn't bring a jacket and I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and shorts, so I was running ( in flip-flops ) 4 ten mins in the rain tryna get back 2 my house lolol X'3

That sounded like a line from a book I read a few yrs ago XD ( but I hope ur still finding time 4 urself :) )

A few nights ago I was rlly, RLLY hyped up 4 highschool... Same school, few new kids, new teachers, maybe a new rep... Then I thought abt what my rep would b like. I mean tbh I don't mind if I'm known as a weirdo furry theatre kid, but last yr my ex-bestie spread nasty rumours bout me, manipulate me and my friend group, and overall make everyone avoid me. At least my friends knew what she's all abt and stuck w me 4 the whole yr, but like... What if the rumours spread 2 the new kids and bad stuff happen?? So then I stayed up thinking bout that and at 2am I multiswiped 10 times and I named the cvt Jeffo :3 ( I haven't cvt in weeks cuz I didn't have many Band-Aids left )

Have a good day Rin :DDD

-Muffin

[comvi]

OK BET! Lucky (now being a big fucking lizard thats in the WRONG REGION (or as chief calls it, contraband.) has a pretty bias to everything and everyone. He like chief and licks him a ton. Because unlike his dad, chief isn't afraid of his muzzle. Lucky of course loves his dad. (He has no idea that his dad is both genders so its just always dad.) Lucky finds anything smaller then him either: Tiny friend, or yummy looking. despite having thoughts (and.being very fucking open about it.) he does not eat anyone or anything without his dads permission. (sept if its small prey as he knows hes allowed to eat those) ^ despite this in chapter 9 "Autodidact" he bites his dad and *really* likes the taste. Lucky sees his dad "spacing out a lot" (talking to the voice.) but does not ask about it Even though he KNOWs his dad is scared he will still be nuzzley whenever their in a den. cause whats he gonna do? run? Lucky knows his dad is starved (err whisperer has not eatan for like 6 days by the way.) and heavily wants him to take a break as the bleed wounds are stacking up and he has a feeling his dad cant take it much longer. Lucky learnt from chief to tap the ground with his claws if he wants something. Lucky does not care about his "actual mom and dad" and wants to stay with whisperer. In chapter 9 after he sees that his dad physically start freaking out when lucky gets a minor injury, he starts to feel really bad for all the stress he thinks hes causing. Lucky loves hugging, tackling, and any physical affection Lucky uses his antennas to "call his dad", but really he just wants to play. Lucky messed with whisperer when lucky was a baby by pointing his antennas up to make them think they were horns. Lucky is the one who said the quote for chapter 9 "I know you dont want to die here, and i know your not going to let me die." Anyway who you wantFUNFACT on nect? (theres like 3 other peoplelool)

AGH SO WONDERFUL…. Gosh i love lucky so much i know i say this a ton but ITS TRUE!!! IT HASNT CHANGED,,,, ITS ONLY GROWING!!!!!

Also something i never actually thought about that u said here was yeah oh lucky actually has parents outside of whisperer, his biological ones. IDK i guess in the past i must’ve thought he just popped into existence one day LOL

Im starting to feel a bit bad for the relationship lucky and whisperer have now. You said that whisperer is afraid of his muzzle & gets scared/nervous when they cuddle in a den together, and there must also be more stuff too. But Despite their fear whisperer still manages to form & hold onto that bond they have, and even though thats really sweet to me, its all in a really melancholic way. Bcause in reality nomatter the connection they form there will always be atleast a small essence of luckys prey drive (EG, lucky enjoying the taste of whisperers blood) and whisperers fight or flight (mainly flight) instincts. It makes me sad, huff….,,,,

Also im very nervous for the day lucky fully finds out/is completely and utterly aware of voice. Lucky’s already been tense since whisperers not eaten at all, been getting hurt, been scared of lucky getting hurt, etc etc. current thoughts are lucky will either go into an aggression spiral, or a freak out will happen when this just adds on to the pile of luckys concerns. ALSO SPEAKING OF VOICE i reallt need somebody up in here like chief to give whisperer a slap in the face and tell him that This Is Not Normal™. Please communicate ur feelings & problems.

+ next character id like to see funs-of-facts about is,,sssilver of course!!!!

+ X2 BEFORE I FORGET, what are each characters pronouns… i know some like silver get referred to with “it”, and lucky “he”, etc etc but would just like to know official sets for future/present reference !!!!!

[sickly-sapphic]

1-35your evil:)

First of all *you're Second of all maybe this was my plan all along

What is your nickname? Willa IS a nickname - it's derived from my last name. Apart from that I have 7 nicknames.

When is your birthday? 6th of August!! Just had it - and it ended up being a weeklong event :D

What was your longest relationship? My current one, which is almost a year and a half.

What is your favorite book? Loveless by Alice Oseman

What is something you're insecure about? Hmmm, my weight/size. Been bullied for it since I was like 4 😭

5 Male celebrity crushes I don't get crushes, I tried to answer but everytime I was just listing guys I know

5 Female celebrity crushes Again I dont get crushes but I will never turn down a movie with Florence Pugh

What is your dream job? I simply don't dream of labour. I would like to run a queer cafe that doubles with free sex ed info. I also wouldnt mind doing ASMR as a career I just don't have the tools really.

What do you consider your biggest accomplishment? Uhmm, being happy.

What is a fact about you that nobody would believe? There was a few years where I was somewhere on the goth/emo spectrum. I don't think it's particularly shocking but I've very quickly gotten a reputation for being a pink princess so...

What were your highs and lows for this last month? Highs - I got a huge plushie the size of my body, heartstopper s2, shopping spree, the Barbie movie Lows - a whole heap of medical shit relating to me and ppl im close with, depressive episodes, burying my cat

Where is somewhere you'd like to visit? I'm honestly not a travel person, I guess I wouldn't mind diving somewhere though.

How do you de-stress? Yoga, sunbathing, baking, crochet, gay things, making art, and reading.

What are your favorite apps besides tumblr? Gratitude Journal, PocketLove and MyPossibleSelf. Social media wise I don't mind Pinterest and Insta but there are almost always things I don't wanna see showing up on my dash.

Describe yourself in one sentence. Hot<3

What do you think makes you attractive? Stomach, thighs and shoulders. I've also been told my worldview is v attractive.

What is something you're really good at? Self love babey.

What is something you're really bad at? Baking red velvet cake.

A time that you told a lie. I lie when asked if there's anything that could prevent me from doing xyz.

What's a totally random and useless fact that you know? Nico Di Angelo smells like stone after rain.

Who knows you the best? My boyfriend.

What is your most prized possession? My phone - it has hundreds of photos I wouldnt be able to replace, poetry, songwriting, journalling and its how I stay in contact with long-distance friends and old school/work friends.

What is your longest friendship? Man idk. Friendships often dip, almost all of my friends have had a few years where we weren't friend inbetween things.

When did you first feel like an adult? I felt like an adult before I was ever allowed to feel like a kid so like. always.

Do you/ Have you played any sports? So many! Soccer, touch football, dance (various types), figure skating, I tried boxing once, karate. Currently I don't play sports, I'm more of a yoga, pilates and skateboarding kinda guy.

How are you feeling right now? Kinda in-between. Don't feel completely zoned in-

Are you an early bird or a night owl? Early bird.

Do you believe in love at first sight? Yes, because there's about a thousand kinds of love.

Favorite song lyrics right now? "sexy girl come and lay with meeee, im frustrated and its sexually" from Sexy Drug - Falling in Reverse. It's such a good song to scream the lyrics to

What does self care look like for you? It entirely depends on the day - it can be watching a film, going on a walk, buying a little treat, dressing up fancy or some form of working out.

Describe yourself with 3 singers. Taylor Swift, Melanie Martinez, Doja Cat.

What makes you nervous? Pretty people.

What’s a pet peeve you have? People that are mean to be funny.

What will always make you cry? Show Me Going from Brooklyn Nine Nine, also Grimace being sad and never wanting to have a birthday again bc of the grimace shake trend :[ Tearing up rn thinking about it.

What kind of first impression do you think you make on people? It's literally never the same impression. I feel like shy and quiet is probably the main one but sometimes it'll be loud and chaotic, charmismatic and funny, I've also gotten told I'm confident a lot which is wild.

[ghostlyschizophrenic]

tw: drug misuse, suicidal thoughts, mentions of self harm, medication talk

kinda asking for advice but don’t feel pressured to read or give advice, it’ll be good for me to write this out anyway

my ativan is able to be refilled again… i’m debating if i even want to pick it up. i haven’t taken any in almost 3 weeks because i took pretty much my entire months prescription in one week and i already pushed the limit on getting more from my psychiatrist for that last prescription so i went kinda cold turkey for the last few weeks and after getting through the first few days of withdrawal its been okay-ish

my biggest fear isn’t me starting to abuse ativan again, it’s my access to it. i’ll probably start abusing it again, i’m not in a great place and i already have given in to other forms of s/h. i’m going through huge mood swings every day and i go from borderline manic to borderline suicidal within hours. sometimes the hypomania turns into mania for a few days and i don’t sleep more than an hour for a few nights and i take the ativan to come down. sometimes the depression really sets in and i plan my death and i just numb myself to stay alive.

i guess what scares me is if my comfort techniques stop working. i have to sleep with headphones playing my comfort playlist so loud i can’t think and my head kinda hurts because all i can think about is how much i wanna die and how id do it. i have always done self indulgent fantasies before bed and ive gotten to a point im having people talk me down in my fantasies, to save me, because i can’t do it on my own. i worry though that one day ill just give in, that in a moment of weakness i take too much. that i have so much pain that i can’t numb it without ODing

i would just not pick it up but i have been having frequent panic attacks and that’s WHY i’m prescribed this medication and going through intense fight or flight responses on a regular basis without help has been destroying my nervous system. also my doctor would know that i didn’t and i don’t want to have to explain why

idk, it feels like a lose-lose situation. i had panic attacks this frequently before and in such specific situations i developed a trauma response to the area id have them that still triggers me almost 10 years later and i just don’t want to go through it again, i really really don’t. but i also don’t want to die, no matter how much my suicidal thoughts want me to.

inherently, instinctively i want to live. i’m so so close to living the life ive always wanted and it’s so close my mouth waters for it. i just… i feel like no matter what choice i make im being pulled back down.

fuckin sisyphus-ass situation

[kindlyfunkn]

in other news though this past month or so has been maybe the worst of my life, was already feeling down about everything but now my cars fucked up again. power steering pump is shot, terrified me driving to the garage the other day (for just an inspection, an inspection no repairs, so i can get my car re-registered. ffs.) bc it started blowing smoke out of the hood and the wheel suddenly locked up.

couldnt get a hold of anyone but idk none of my friends either have cars or are free during school/work hours this was maybe around 11. my first instinct was to call my mom but she was unavailable, shes been travelling bc of my cousins wedding in alberta and mightve still been on a plane maybe idk. but she would've probably called my dad anyway bc hes the one who could actually help me, i called him right after my mom didnt pick up.

he lives 2 hours away though, i was within walking distance to my house so i just called to ask what i should do. the switch in his voice from neutral to worried was funny, especially bc ive been giving him sort of the silent treatment since we got in a petty fight. he contemplated if he could come out to town to have a look but remembered his friend craig and told me to stay where i was to. his friend is someone ive met before and had look at my car before too, and he lives out in town.

so craig was really nice, got some power steering fluid for me, drove my car for me (bc he's used to driving junk) to the garage and spoke to the mechanic for me, vehemently denied my attempts to pay for the fluid and cab fees. he told me its really funny how similar i am to my dad when we need help. he said that he told me: "you're shy like him, you stutter like him, you're nervous like him... uh no offense."

anyway so the garage wasnt able to do anything for my car bc if they didnt have the parts to fix my steering then they couldnt complete the inspection, but he didnt charge me anything so that was cool.

gotta make another appointment at a different garage.

also, speaking to my mom last night i told her how awful thingsve been. headache almost every day, i cant sleep (other night only got to sleep after 7 am, then the next night only got 3 hours, as example), how when i got up i just started crying full waterworks and i wasnt even thinking about anything. didnt tell her how i keep wanting to get drunk at night bc my thoughts just run rampant, done it a few times now. the headaches come with or without a hangover though, i grind my teeth at night. my guard was missing for a while but recently ive found it i just havent been wearing it though i should.

i didnt mean to unload anything on her just give her an update how ive been feeling bc i havent had anyone to talk to really. dont really like to vent really seriously to my (twin) sister, and my older sister (whom i live with) doesnt ever really seem to care—i feel like i cant really be upset when im around her bc she always has something happening at work or whatever. plus she keeps saying things that make me feel worse or more worried and she doesnt realize how awful ive been feeling, a few times when expressing that my head or back hurts she offers nothing except "do you want to try my meds?" NO i dont want your prescription meds!! i did take one of her migraine meds once bc they wouldnt work for her so the last pill in the bottle she offered to me and i remarked that it worked a charm, but the new meds she has now are different and strong enough that apparently they are sometimes given post surgery. sure ibuprofen/naproxen and tylenol dont work more than half the time for me but im not going right into strong meds when im taking other things. my sister doesnt take any meds other than the migraine stuff, i do take meds, i dont want any interactions.

but anyway i got sidetracked, i'll tag with the sister vent tag too. anyway i kept what i said to my mom short and simple, didnt think much of it bc sure ive been stressed out and demotivated (what else is new) and just needed to get off my chest. hate complaining to my friends i feel i do it too much. mom gave me support words of encouragement stuff like that, but told me she'll look into therapy options for me if i want since im still under her and my step moms insurance while im a student (which i technically am, exams and classes are done but still need a workterm and we're only considered fully graduates until we complete a workterm). baffled me. i used to see a counsellor (not by choice to start and i got put in dbt which sucked but i could cancel so i did bc it wasnt going anywhere. dbt mightve helped but it was on a webcam and i leaned out of frame to grab my pencil once which dropped to the floor and i was scolded so i thought this sucks im dropping this lol) but it never did much for me, but i didnt expect my mom to bring up therapy outright. we dont really do/see stuff like that in our family.

but yknow a therapist may help me right now bc everythings going south and im not that smart with adult things yet so much that i think its detrimental, so i think i said yes. if it turns out i dont need it then i can just drop it, but i think somebody unbiased who knows how things work would be able to help me a lot. its just for figuring my life out.

woof this js a huge post. did not mean to write so much and meant to keep this simple and to the point, but yknow im incapable of being concise its a curse. wasnt even gonna talk about my car initially but just started rambling. anyway thats my shitty life update

[romanarose]

Hello there ✨️ love your work 💕 I'm a long time fan 🫶🏼. I've been on tumblr a few years now, but I'd never found the courage to post anything of my own til now. I've been feeling a little optimistic these days, and genuinely excited about posting some of my writing and sharing it with the people out here. Do you have any advice on how to start posting and interacting from scratch? Cause I'm low-key nervous abt it and it seems like my target audience has already formed a solid community I don't know how to get into 🥺

Wow, this might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me wowie!!!!!!

okay let me tell my advice

The numbers don't equal quality. Certain things appeal to people more, like shorter stories, straight up smut, Joel Miller gets way more than when I write Marc. I think one of my best works was my Marc X Jewish!Reader series, Seattle, but it idnt get anywhere really even at the height of moon knight popularity bc people dont read OC's esp ethnic oc's. Put your heart into it and those who enjoy it will enjoy it. I had a William Miller series that averaged like 8-20 notes per chapter but I had a handful of readers I knew adored it and thats what mattered

This site is so much better with interaction. PLEASE DON"T ONLY INTERACT FOR THE SAKE OF GETTING FRIENDS WHO"LL REBLOG!! However, if you dont already, make sure you are reblogging stories and leaving nice words! Me personally, if someone reblogs regularly and leave nice words, espcially things that show they really paid attention, I usually just follow back bc I love friends. Im happy to get to know you!

Yes, it's hard sometimes to break it. It took a few months for me to get into the Oscar Issac writer circles, and then when I started writing Pedro it took a while too but I always reblogged and tried to communicate and I made friends. Isn't it crazy we can just.... become friends with our fav writers? Obvs Im not friends with all my favs but MOST of my favs became my friends <3

It's kinda annoying to me bc Im bad at it but aesthetics help. Title, a picture to catch eyes, summary, warnings, note. Try to make it look nice. Im really had at this LMFAOOOOOO. My lovely friends have made my best looking banners. If you have graphic design skills, use them! i wish i didn't have to but it does help catch readers when you have an interesting headers and everything looks pretty.

Few technicals. Use the readmore option. No one wants to reblog a LOOOOOONG story and clog up the feeds. Use as many correct tags as you can. Tag any triggering content. And I'm the worst at this but proof read. Im bad at proof reading, everyone who reads my work knows spelling, grammar, wrong words are a common issue I have bc Im bad at typing. When I still had word on my laptop I started typing in word and using text to speach to help me catch stuff!

Keep at it! IDK where you know my work, weather moon knight, triple frontier or tlou or whatever but all those fandoms right now are like.... a little less active. So don't be dissapointed if it takes a while. With TLOU, theres SOOOOOOO many amazing writers. With Moon Knight theres just less buzz rn. If you write for lesser known characters like Llewyn Davis or Will Miller, you probs won't reach the notes of established writers in Joel Miller. Just the reality. the point is keep going, find what you like and what gets people excited and go from there

This is the most important. Write what you want. I mean it. I love writing Will Miller because he's my special man <3 even though it's a small fanbase. My series Rooms On Fire, a lot have lost interest bc its a long series. That's okay! I love the series and it makes me happy to write it. I wrote a few Miguel O'Hara stories because, I'm being honest here, I wanted to capitalize on the hype. Guess what? They weren't good. I'm not proud of them. Since then, I write what Im inspired to.

THIS SHOULD BE FUN AND IF AT ANY POINT, IT"S NOT FUN STOP AND FIGURE OUT WHY

feel free to say hi off anon! I'm always happy to get to know new people. If you like Triple Frontier, I have a discord server that is pretty much open to everyone! I'm trying to revive it and you can share your works and meet knew people!

Anon or not, let me know if you have any questions!