#ive been thinking about the song about how there is no escape from the end but you should still toast to the good and the bad

[curiousserpent]

i want to write an essay on how all songs by luna luna are about fleetingness and death and making the best of the now and going on despite everything and the value of things/relationships that dont last and the non-existence of forever and how that is okay it's even good and---

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid��s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

------------------------------------------ 

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[stevie-petey]

episode one: suzie, do you copy?

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”

Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 9.6k

Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !

-

June 27th, 1985.

A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.

In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.

The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,

It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.

There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.

Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.

As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”

You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”

“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.

“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”

You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.

“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.

Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”

“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”

His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”

“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”

You gasp. “You’re lying!”

“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”

“What about Mike and El?”

“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”

Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”

“Please? I could be poor soon!”

“No, it’s not going to happen–”

“But–”

A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.

It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”

She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”

“Hello to you too, Henderson.”

You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”

“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.

Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”

You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.

“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.

“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”

Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”

“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”

Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”

You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”

Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”

Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”

“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.

“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.

Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.

He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”

Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”

You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.

Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”

You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”

Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.

–

When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.

The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”

But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.

In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.

A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.

The phone rings.

“Right on time, honey.”

“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.

Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.

Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.

“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.

Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”

“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.

“You two are the worst together.”

“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”

“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”

Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And yet you stay.” You tease.

“And yet I stay.”

You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.

–

The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkins' pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.

It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.

By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.

It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.

Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.

Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”

The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”

You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”

“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”

The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”

She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.

Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.

You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?

At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.

Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”

“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.

There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”

You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”

Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”

Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”

Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”

“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”

“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”

Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”

You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.

The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.

You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.

“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.

You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.

Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”

You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.

Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”

You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.

Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”

Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”

He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”

You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.

–

Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.

Seems it’s time for their movie.

You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”

“Ow, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”

Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”

“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”

Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”

Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”

“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.

You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”

“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.

However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”

You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”

Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.

Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”

Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.

Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.

“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.

“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?

You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”

Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”

You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.

However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.

–

When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.

She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.

Robin, however, clearly has other plans.

“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.

“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”

“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.

Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”

Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”

“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”

Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”

“Technically I dumped her–”

“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”

Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”

“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.

“Harrington!”

There it is.

“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”

Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”

Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”

Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”

“You’re hopeless.”

–

“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.

You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.

After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”

Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.

It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.

It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.

Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”

Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.

Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”

“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.

“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.

Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”

Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.

You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”

Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”

The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.

Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.

“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.

“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.

Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”

“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.

Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”

The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”

“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.

Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”

You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”

Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.

Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.

“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.

A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”

Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”

“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.

“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”

Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”

“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”

You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.

As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”

Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”

“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.

“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.

You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”

“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”

“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”

You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”

From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.

Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”

“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.

–

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”

The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”

The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”

“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.

The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”

“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.

“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.

“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”

Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”

“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”

“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”

“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.

“Since when?”

“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”

Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”

“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”

Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”

Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”

For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.

–

Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.

You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.

Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.

You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”

“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.

“You’re dating a Mormon?”

Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.

Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”

“Scary people–”

Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”

“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”

“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.

Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.

“But they were also star crossed lovers.”

“Who killed themselves.”

Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”

You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”

“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.

Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”

“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.

With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”

Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”

You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”

“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.

“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.

Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross!” Will voices again.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”

“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”

You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”

Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”

Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.

You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.

“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.

“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.

At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”

“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.

You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”

“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.

Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.

Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dustin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.

“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.

“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.

Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.

You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.

“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.

Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.

Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”

“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”

“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.

Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.

Dustin gasps. “She exists!”

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”

Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”

“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”

Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”

“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”

Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.

“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.

Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”

Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”

Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.

You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”

“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.

As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”

His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.

“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”

Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.

He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”

You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”

“Russian.” Dustin whispers.

Everything changes, then.

–

You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”

He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.

You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.

When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.

“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”

“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.

Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”

Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.

He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”

Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”

You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”

“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.

“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”

“Y/N, are you in danger–”

“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”

“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.

Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, angel. You know that.”

And you do.

Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.

-

⌑ 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

[marbl3z]

thats actually all I have for a title. Aventurine x afab! reader

Also, I love his voice so fucking much holy shit can I JUST SAY. I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SMUT AND THIS SONG CAME ON AND PHONE SEX. ANYWAY

MDNI 18++++ LEAVE THIS NOW. THIS IS ACTUALLY THE SLUTTIEST THING IVE WRITTEN IN YEARS.

CW: petnames, VERY VERY DESCRIPTIVE PHONE SEX, LIKE. REALLY BAD, Mutual masturbation, moaning, voice kink, IMAGINATION, clit/cock terms, sexting/pictures/phone sex, literally as far as you can think.

"hey baby..." his voice was low and deep through the phone.

"hi love, what you doing awake? Isn't it late there?" You lay on your bed, fidgeting with your sheets.

"missed you so much, had you on my brain all day." You can hear a smile through his voice, you smile softly.

"mm, that's sweet. I'm sure those meetings were really boring.." you mumble, listening to his hum in response.

It wasn't often you two were together, he was always busy with IPC meetings and plans. When he was with you it was almost as if he never left.

"what have you been doing?" He asks, his voice going to a low whisper. You think back on the day on anything notable.

"hmm... nothing much, I did some work and cleaned around the place."

"that's good, 'm proud of you." Your cheeks burn from the praise, Everytime he gave you a compliment or praise it always made your heart flutter. "God, I miss you so much. I wish you were here with me."

"me too, maybe one day they'll let me tag along haha." A soft chuckle echos through his line.

"haha, maybe. I'll have to ask though- I'm sure I'll get no extra work done with you around..." aventurine purrs through the phone.

"yeah.. I'll take up all your time."

"..."

"Aventurine?" You check to see if the line disconnected but it seems to be fine. Suddenly you hear a soft groan.

"baby, I wish I could taste you right now..." your eyes widen as you realize what's happening. Your face turns completely red, his moans echo through the phone.

"are you..—"

"ah.. fuuck." He slides his hand over his aching bulge. The silk pajamas restraining him tightly. "Fuck, sorry.. I just— hearing your voice after so long. Drives me insane.."

You slide your hands down your own body, dipping past your waistband and touching yourself. A small gasp escapes your lips as you throb against your hand. "Ha.. Imagine how I feel, every little emphasis— every gasp of air you take. You make me crazy.." you mumble, eyes fluttering close as the pleasure washes over you.

"baby, can you do something for me?"

"mhm.."

"tell me what you're doing.. describe it to me.." he pleads, squeezing his cock and letting out a moan.

"ah.. 'm touching myself— rubbing my clit.. thinking about you touching me." You whimper.

"are you still wearing pajamas?" He whines, you hum. "Take them off, undress for me angel." You comply and slowly begin to undress the cold air of the room hitting your skin and makes a pleasant shiver go down your spine.

You hear a shuffle on the other end as you lay down on the soft bed, a sigh emits from Aventurine's mouth. "Can you tell me what you're thinking about?" You whisper, he groans before letting out a soft chuckle and a soft "mhm".

"thinking about rubbing that soft clit of yours in gentle circles, or maybe eating you out until you're a moaning mess. Stare into your eyes as I slowly push inside." He throws his head back as he strokes his cock slowly— teasing himself.

Your breathing increases, your fingers dip into your dripping cunt. You let out a moan as he whimpers into the phone, his voice shaking "go on baby, touch yourself while you think of me doing so many things to you."

Your body burns, you spread your legs further apart and slowly start pushing a finger inside, it's been so long since he's touched you. Your stomach erupts in butterflies as you think of his hands guiding you to your heat.

"you're so good for me, so perfect, so beautiful." He praises as you moan as you speed up. You put the phone on speaker as you rub your clit along with fingering yourself.

"ah- aventurine, fuck... I wish you were here. Oh... I wish you could touch me."

"oh fuuck." He whimpers as he speeds up, low groans and moans echo his hotel room as he drips precum all over his hand. "Wish I could fuck you so good right now, make soft love to you. Make you orgasm and cum all over me, all over my cock."

You left out a high pitched gasp, your walls tighten around your fingers as your back arches, a moan draws out of your throat.

"your noises are so fucking cute, so needy. Ah- I can only imagine how wet you are... can I have a picture please baby?"

You whimper as you grab your phone and flip the camera to face yourself, taking a picture of your fingers deep in your cunt, arousal dripping out. You send it to him and a few seconds past and you hear a loud groan.

"oh fuck.. look at you," he moans in between his words, his legs go weak as he looks at you touching yourself. "Fuck, baby- fuuck.." he moans, biting his lip and speeding up.

"i- I'm so close.." you whine through the moans, "oh fuck, baby- I'm so close." You moan into the pillow. "Aah.."

"I'm close too," his voice is shaking as he strokes himself in full strokes. "I'm thinking of stretching that pretty pussy out, going so slow for you, make you take all of me. Make you feel so full inside," you bite your lip, whimpering out bables.

"aventurine.." you moan out his name. He lets out a loud groan.

"say my name again, please baby- I'm so close"

"Aventurine..." You speed up even faster, rubbing your clit— the pleasure going to your head as you reach that high you've been craving. "Aventurine, oh– I'm gonna cum"

"cum for me baby, let yourself go, I'm right here." He whines, hips twitching as he reaches his high too, his cock pulses and twitches in his hand as he lets out a wobbly moan.

your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm crashes against you so hard, you bite your lip to stop yourself from being too loud. You can only think about him, how he feels against your skin, how he would touch you— Him, Aventurine.

"I love you, I love you so much." He whispers, catching his breath.

"mm... I love you too, Aventurine," you hum sleepily, reaching over the nightstand and wiping cum off yourself. Hissing at the sensitivity, he laughs.

"I made such a mess." He sighs. "Thank you— for being so goddamn perfect..."

"thank you for having the sexiest bedroom voice" you tease, your heart swells in adoration as he lets out a breathy laugh.

--

UH I DONT WANNA WRITE ANYTHING ELSE SO HERE AHAHA

[oh-no-its-bird]

after reading your izuna tobi time travel rambles I can't help but think about them just crashing the middle of a council meeting 😭 everyone is shook, and absolutely flabbergasted and ngl they kind of just.. Want the two to stay? (Well, mostly Tobi's old subordinates/students because they feel partially sad and sentimental and OH MY GOD IS THAT FOURTEEN YEAR OLD TOBIRAMA?!?) And then the psycho Hashirama timeline is just amazinggg I can't stop thinking about it you're actually infecting my brain bro

NO BC IVE BEEN THINKING NONSTOP ABOUT THAT EXACT SCENARIO LATLEY MYSELF !! The brain worms are spreading...

(Cont. From this post for those without context)

Every other time Tobirama and Izuna enter a world where it's modern Konoha, they start taking bets about which one of them died there. Funny bit where Izuna says smthn about how there quote, "aren't nearly enough crazy nightmare trees and brainwashed people for you to have died here" (bc 9 times out of 10 in worlds where Tobirama dies Hashirama loses it to a spectacular degree that leaves a VERY visable mark on Konoha)

Actually, taking that thought, it could be fun if they got dropped into a seemingly normal Konoha only to find out that hey Tobirama did die in this one, but it seems to be the 1 out of 10 that Hashi was able to stay sane

Only nope!! Surprise attack!! He's just really really good at pretending to be normal and when they try to leave he plays his hand, lots of fire and explosions ensue and they just barley escape

Izuna and Tobirama are SO tired of people trying to force them to stay in places, theyve had Madara do it they've had Hashirama do it, maybe they even had alternate versions of eachother do it. They !! Want !! To go !! Home !!!!

Also you can't tell me that seeing a young version of them specifically would hit Madara/Hashi harder than any revived adult version could. They're lowkey the "idealized" versions of their brothers, still small and in need of being protected, not consumed with anger and burdened by the things they've done and seen in the war. They're silly little guys!! And they're slamming on ALL the "Oh god I need to protect my little brother" buttons, it's sooo bad

Anyways, them crashing into a council meeting after quite a few different rounds of dimension hopping. Meaning they really don't give a shit ab destroying anything bc they've already come to the conclusion that it's too late to be worrying ab any potential side effects of fucking with possible time lines.

They're immediatley diving across the table making grabby hands at their friendly ball of interdimensional light as it floats off, trying to go for it as soon as they land before it wanders off and they're left having to hunt for it.

I need you to picture these 2 kids just DIVING across a table of important clan people shouting smthn ab DO NOT TOUCH THAT FUCKING LIGHT

They miss it and it dissapears through a wall rip

Maybe they end up slamming into it trying to catch it for comedy effect actually

Other than just sentimentality there's also definatley a tactical standpoint of trying to get them to stay

That's THE Senju Tobirama, second Hokage, white demon and inventor of a fuck ton of jutsus. And also Izuna, who is much less known here to his (by now used to it in these kinds of world) displeasure

All young and untrained and perfect for grooming into a loyal konoha shinobi, ready to grow into his prime by careful hands who knows exactly what he could become

How much more terrifying could he be, if trained specifically by someone who knows his talents, shown his own research to build off of and given all sorts of modern tools he never had before

And also Izuna is still there and he's so fucking sick of being underestimated rn guys what the fuck he's cool too

Anyways the second Tobirama and Izuna hear "hahaha maybe you should stay a little longer..." they're BOLTING

They've heard that song and dance like 20 times now they know the warning signs and you seem nice but they are NOT risking another 'secret yandere' situation again, goodbye.

Their only saving grace is that respect and sentimentality does win out here in letting them go without too much arguing, no matter how valuable they might be. Got lucky this time around, might not be so lucky the next

[namicakes]

The edge of forever.

“Binibigkas tanging pangalan mo,

Hinahanap ang mga yakap mo,

Pag ibig ko bakit lumalayo,

Pag ibig mo tila naglalaho.”

Note:(Based on a filipino song called “Dulo ng hangganan” also I was thinking about posting a book on wattpad which contains my oneshots collections from different anime, and I am currently working on it. will you guys support me?)

Kuroo Tetsuro x F!Reader

In the heart of a bustling city where dreams are sought and lost, there existed a quiet love—a love that seemed to defy the odds yet felt so frail, as if it were constantly balancing at the edge of a cliff. It was in this city that Y/N met Kuroo Tetsuro, a man whose laughter rang loud and infectious, with a wit as sharp as the glint in his eyes. He was charming in a way that felt natural, as if joy was woven into the very fabric of who he was. But beneath his warmth lay a soul more complicated, a heart that held its secrets close, layered with unspoken fears and untamed desires.

For Y/N, Kuroo was both a beginning and an end, a journey that beckoned her forward but left her trembling at its edges. She loved him with a heart that gave freely, completely, all in, as if no consequence would ever be enough to stop her. And he loved her too, with a devotion so deep it bordered on desperation, clinging to the hope that love could be enough to bridge their divides.

But love, even when boundless, has its limits. And theirs was a love that would push them both to the edge of forever.

They met at the start of autumn, in a small café nestled away from the world, a quiet place where people went to forget. She was seated by the window, a book in hand, her gaze flickering between the pages and the world outside. It was a place Kuroo often went to escape the city’s chaos, to hide from the expectations of those who saw only his bright grin and confident stride.

On that particular day, fate wove their paths together. Kuroo took a seat at a nearby table, glancing at her from time to time, struck by her quiet presence. She was everything he wasn’t—gentle where he was bold, thoughtful where he was impulsive, a calm sea to his stormy nature. And yet, as they exchanged glances, he felt an unspoken pull, a connection that neither of them could explain.

Their first words were simple, mundane. A question about the book she was reading, a comment on the weather. But within those fleeting words, they found a spark, a comfort that neither had realized they’d been searching for.

Days turned to weeks, and they fell into a rhythm as natural as breathing. They spent long afternoons together, exploring every corner of the city, discovering hidden places where they could escape the eyes of the world. They shared late-night talks, secrets exchanged beneath a sky dotted with stars, dreams woven into the quiet night air.

Kuroo made her laugh like no one else, and she brought a peace into his life that he hadn’t known he was missing. She felt his fears in the moments he thought she couldn’t see—how he carried the weight of others’ expectations, how he buried his insecurities beneath his charming façade. And he saw in her a fragility, a fear of falling too deeply, as though love were a luxury she felt unworthy to claim.

Their love grew in silence, like a wildflower blooming in the cracks of a stone wall. Yet, no matter how deeply they loved, there was always an ache, a lingering fear that what they had was as fragile as the autumn leaves they walked through.

Love, they discovered, is not always enough to keep the darkness at bay. Kuroo, with his boundless energy, was a man always reaching, always wanting more from life. He was drawn to ambition, to the thrill of building a future where he could stand tall and proud. But Y/N was content with simplicity, with a quiet life where love and peace were enough.

Their dreams clashed, their worlds no longer overlapping as they once had. And with every unspoken tension, every misunderstanding, the chasm between them widened. Kuroo would stay out later, chasing ambitions she couldn’t understand, while she spent her nights alone, wondering if love could survive the weight of such differences.

One night, as the city lights glittered like stars beneath them, they found themselves standing on a bridge overlooking the skyline. The wind whispered through their silence, carrying words neither dared to speak aloud. She turned to him, her gaze soft yet laced with a sadness he could feel in his bones.

“Tetsuro,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “do you ever feel like… we’re reaching the end?”

Her words hung between them, heavy and unforgiving. He looked at her, his heart twisting, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. He loved her—he loved her with a fierceness that defied logic, but the life he wanted, the future he envisioned… he didn’t know if it was one she could share.

“Do you want us to end?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze piercing yet vulnerable.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “No, but… I don’t know if love is enough to keep us together.”

They stood there, silent, two souls bound yet drifting, caught in the paradox of love and loss. The city lights blurred as tears filled her eyes, her heart breaking at the thought of leaving him, yet knowing that maybe, in the end, it was the only choice left.

In the days that followed, they tried to bridge the gap, to hold onto the love that had once been their anchor. But every attempt felt forced, as though they were clinging to the ghost of something that had once been beautiful, now slipping through their fingers like sand.

One cold winter morning, she sat alone in their favorite café, a letter trembling in her hands. It was a goodbye, written with a heart heavy with love and sorrow. She loved him too deeply to keep him tied to a future he didn’t want, and she loved herself too much to remain in a love that had lost its warmth.

When Kuroo found the letter, his heart shattered, the reality of her absence hitting him with a force he hadn’t prepared for. He realized, too late, the depth of her love, the way she had quietly sacrificed, bending herself to fit the dreams he had never compromised.

Years passed, and the city changed, but memories of their love lingered in the places they had once shared. Kuroo went on to build the life he had always wanted, achieving the dreams he had once pursued so fiercely. But there was an emptiness within him, a hollow ache that no amount of success could fill. He would catch himself looking out at the horizon, wondering if she, too, was looking back, if somewhere in the world, she remembered him as he remembered her.

As for Y/N, she carried him with her, in the quiet moments and the lonely nights, her heart both healed and scarred by the love that had shaped her. She found peace, found herself, knowing that sometimes love, no matter how deep, must be let go to set one free.

Their love, like the song of an endless road, lingered on the edges of their lives—a reminder of a time when they had loved with all they had, at the edge of forever.

[egirling]

one direction.

i think i’m still grieving what happened; ever since liam has passed there’s not been a single day where i haven’t thought about the 5 boys that overtook my life when i was 12. i was a diehard fan, still am. if it wasn’t for them; i wouldn’t of met my closest friend. they had such an impact on my life and i genuinely cannot process what happened.

i never thought that i would be this sad at a member passing; but i also think that i never ever thought to fully understand that it’ll happen one day. i handle death well but for some reason this death has struck me.

as a 24 year old, i feel for the 12 year old girl who started liking them. who had her walls covered in posters, wrote fanfiction, ran a 1D fan page on facebook and twitter, the one who cried when zayn left and when they all unfortunately split away from the band. i remember the little girl who would get salty when people typed ‘1d’ instead of of ‘1D’, the girl who stayed up late to watch songs be released, the girl who truly thought these 5 guys were the best thing to happen to her.

i remember listening to up all night and getting sad when stole my heart came on; because i knew the album was ending. but luckily i was fortune enough to own the physical album so i could just rewind it. i did that for years since i never owned another album on cd.

i also feel for that little girl; i remember being sad when i saw people attending 1D concerts knowing i never got the opportunity to as a child. as an adult; sure but… a reunion is unspoken for currently. i get sad when i realize that i’ll never see 5/5 live, but i saw a tiktok comment saying that i at least experienced the fandom at its prime and that i lived during it, and that’s enough for me to feel a connection to them. it makes me feel better.

i know that death is natural and happens to everyone, but i was not expecting to handle the loss of someone i worshiped as a child. i know he’s just a celebrity, would never know i existed and all of that but genuinely this has struck me in a way i never expected. it’s like part of my childhood has been torn away from me; like my younger self is heartbroken by liam and what happened. (maybe this has to do with the trauma ive dealt with in my life? but that’s something i gotta discuss with my psychiatrist.)

1D and all the members will always have a spot in my heart and soul for the chapter of my life that they were in, i’m genuinely so grateful for them in multiple ways. i remember when little things came out and that was in my peak of my self harming, and hearing them sing about things i hated about myself struck me when i was younger. obviously, when i was a child it felt more personal compared to being an adult, but it still helped. i don’t think i self harmed for awhile after that song.

i love the fact that i got to experience them as a band, and the fact that im living in a life with their solo careers as well. i’m ever so proud of them and how they’ve grown.

as for liam, i do miss him as weird as it might be. i never knew him, never would but he was … almost a positive influence on me and my younger self. i didn’t have much direction growing up, but i knew listening to their songs or watching videos of them that i would feel content. an escape maybe.

i don’t know. i can’t sleep and it’s almost midnight and i needed to get this off my chest. i think i just needed to vent and say my peace and words to accept what’s happened.

this blog started as a 1D blog 💀

i know there’s millions of fans who are deeply affected by this as well, and if anyone even reads this i just want you to know your feelings and thoughts are completely valid, grief affects everyone differently. he was a huge part of life for MANY people out there. take care of yourself. listen to some songs and cry; everything will be okay.

(i don’t think i can do this 4 more times)

there’s a day i’ll be older than him and that’s weird… i don’t like that thought. it was never supposed to be that.

i would like to believe that liam is content wherever he is right now.

all the love, sarah / egirling

[atrophiedemotion]

54 !!

thank you anon! here's an angsty ivantill snippet loosely based on bubblegum by cigarettes after sex.

words: 536. rating: t. tags: established relationship, hurt no comfort, hanahaki au

tw for emetophobia & blood

It was a quarter past three in the morning when Ivan carefully maneuvered out of bed, tight fists setting the comforter lightly back over Till's sleeping form. His jaw was clenched around an aborted choke, headrush creating static in his ears. Through the noise, he faintly noted the beginnings of rain hitting the ceiling. A snort escaped his nose, unbidden, at the timing, before the only thing he could register was, 'bad idea, bad idea'-

He was in the bathroom in seconds flat, the creakiest boards avoided, and successfully hunched over the sink.

Lovely. Just lovely. Exactly how Ivan wanted to be spending the night of his one month anniversary with Till.

Though, he thought, perhaps it was to be expected. When Till confessed to him four weeks ago with a song he'd composed on the piano, Ivan had felt the insides of his lungs constrict, fill, then release, like an air balloon suddenly deflating. He'd naively thought that would be the end of it.

Of course Ivan wasn't so lucky.

He'd been choking on flowers born of his abhorrent feelings for Till since he was a teenager. It wasn't a surprise Till's sudden 'change of heart' wouldn't change that.

Why would it? Till didn't really love Ivan, he was just used to him. Used to him because Ivan forced him to be.

Getting Till accustomed to Ivan's presence was a life long venture, one that he'd (apparently) succeeded at when he turned twenty three. But that was all it was- a plan he'd lucked out with. Till didn't really love him. Ivan didn't think anyone could, not with him hiding the majority of his true self from anyone.

Till had seen the most of him out of anyone, maybe aside from Sua. He saw Ivan's resting face (a glare, as opposed to his usual smile), knew of Ivan's clinginess and overbearing nature, his distaste for most people alive, he'd seen Ivan have meltdowns over plans going astray, and many, many other things that Ivan wished he could deny about himself.

There was no way Till could truly love him. He must've gotten together with Ivan out of some sort of misguided pity. Till was kind like that.

Ivan's stomach gave a painful lurch as his thoughts swirled in a haze above him, eventually giving way to a clump of bloody flowers. His throat constricted achingly around the last few, coughed out with more blood than petals present.

It took a few seconds for Ivan to blink the tears out of his eyes enough to see what today's mess consisted of. When his sight was finally free, his mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

Snapdragons stained with a dark copper.

Fitting, wasn't it? Fitting for a parasitic relationship Ivan himself had to create, had to work for years to drill into Till's head to get him to reciprocate.

The flowers couldn't lie. Not like Ivan could.

So, Ivan washed away the blood and brushed his teeth, trashed the flower petals in a bin outside, and slipped back under the covers with Till. He could do this for as long as Till still wanted to humor him. He would do it, no questions asked. Anything for Till.

-

yeah so in short ivan is wrong about all of this. till loves him of his own volition obviously, ivan's self hatred is just too strong for him to believe it. with that in mind, this is my version of an ivantill hanahaki au because ive always felt like it wouldn't end for ivan until months or maybe even years into their relationship, simply because he cannot believe till (or anyone) truly loves him.

how was this related to the song? honestly, that kind of got away from me, but i basically pictured ivan agonizing over his relationship with till late at night with it raining and himself being his worst enemy. not exactly based off the lyrics, but yk. i actually had a whole au based off this song for another fandom but it felt wrong to write it as ivantill instead ngl.

i hope you enjoyed, anon! sorry it's so angsty sdkjv

[ghuleh-witch]

And We Are Tied As One Eternally-VII

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explicit Warnings: This chapter contains several CW and TWs. They include mentions and talks of miscarriage, abortion, assault, domestic violence, stalking, depression, and suicide. Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x OFC Additional Tags: soft!dom Copia, eventual smut, developing relationship, kind of a slow burn, no beta reader Chapter Word Count: 2639 Summary: Ellie Moran just wanted to make a new life for herself. Running to escape the people in her past, she ends up in a small town in the middle of nowhere that happens to be home to a Satanic church. She never expected her life to change again after she started attending the public masses at said church. Ao3 || Masterlist Chapters: 7/? Previous Chapters Tag list: @sodoswitchimage

Ellie was sitting on the stoop outside her building as she waited for Copia. She made sure she could be seen by anyone on the street in case Ethan was watching and waiting to pounce. Copia would be there soon, and in the meantime, Ellie played music on her phone to distract her. 

She was listening through all of Ghost’s albums. She started listening to Copia’s first album, Prequelle. His voice was her favorite of the Papas. She just got to the growly bit of Faith when she heard a chuckle. 

“Listening to my songs, cara?” Copia said as he approached. Ellie had been so engrossed she didn’t even see him pull up and park. She looked up at him. He was in black sweatpants and a red hoodie. His face was still painted making him stand out among passersby. 

“Yeah,” Ellie answered. “Your album might be my favorite so far”

“Might be? Ellie, I’m hurt” Copia teased before sitting down next to her. “Do you know if anything was stolen?”

Ellie shook her head. “I didn’t look, but I doubt anything was taken. He just wants to scare me” Ellie said absentmindedly 

“He? Ellie? Do you know who did this?” Copia asked, his head cocking to the side slightly. 

Shit , she thought. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Well, it was too late now. She would have to explain everything. The thought sent terror through her. He was going to think she was pathetic and weak. 

Tell him, the voice in her head insisted. Trust him. 

“I believe it was my ex-fiancé,” Ellie said after a pause. “And now I’m going to have to explain, I guess I should start from the beginning because it’s all gonna come out eventually.” She readjusted her position so she was sitting facing him. She noticed how he mirrored her so they could be face-to-face. “Eleven years ago I was starting my second year of university. It was also the year my mother allowed me to live on campus. It was my first time being away from home, and despite going to a Christian school, I felt free. 

“I got invited to a party off campus and I got super drunk, you know first time experimenting with alcohol and rebelling and all that. At the party, I met a guy named Ethan Rossi. We hit it off. He was nice and also super drunk. We had sex in some back bedroom. It was my first time and I don’t even remember much of it.” Ellie shook her head in shame. “Anyway, we continued to hang out after the party and a month later I missed my period. I got pregnant because we were too drunk to remember to use a condom. 

“I didn’t want a baby though. I was 19. I was thinking about going to get an abortion but the guilt hit me hard, and when I told Ethan I was pregnant and didn’t want to keep the baby, he begged me over and over not to kill our baby or put it up for adoption. He promised to make it work. He promised to take care of me and the baby and provide for us. I was stupid and believed him. We dropped out of school and got a place together and he proposed to me. He went to work full time and left me to play homemaker. My mother was ecstatic. In her eyes, this was all God’s plan. She was planning our wedding and couldn’t wait to be a grandmother. Everyone around me was so happy and excited, but I was miserable. My life was over and there was nothing I could do about it. 

“Things with Ethan were going smoothly until I had a miscarriage at three and a half months. He found me passed out on the bathroom floor and took me to the hospital. They informed us that I miscarried. The ride home was horrible. All Ethan did was scream at me saying it was my fault and that I did this on purpose because he wouldn’t let me get an abortion. I was never more terrified of him in that moment.” 

Ellie took a deep breath and slipped her hands under her thighs to hide the fact she was shaking. “Eventually things settled down, as in he wasn’t screaming at me anymore. He was mean and cold towards me and even got my mother to side with him. They treated me like crap, but I had nowhere else to go and no money so I stayed with him and hoped it would all blow over. Just before my twenty-first birthday, he came home drunk. He kept apologizing to me and saying that we could try again and make another baby.” Ellie closed her eyes tight against the burning tears. “I told him no and he hit me so hard on the cheek that he cracked one of my molars. He let me sit on the floor and cry while he got online and told his friends how much of a bitch I was.”

Ellie cleared her throat, her eyes looking everywhere but at Copia. She didn’t want to know how he viewed her, especially not after what she was about to tell him next. “I tried to kill myself the next morning after he left for work. I didn’t want to live anymore. I was trapped in this relationship with no way to get out. My mother didn’t even care. I wasn’t her daughter anymore. I was a man’s property and he could do whatever he wanted with me. 

“I didn’t care if I was going to hell. It was my only way out. I got in a hot bath and cut my wrist. I was about to cut the other when my mother let herself into our apartment. She was coming to get all the baby stuff she bought so she could return it and get her money back. She found me and called an ambulance and then proceeded to tell me how stupid and selfish I was.” Her fingers trailed over the scar on her wrist hidden by her tattoos. 

“I turned twenty-one in the hospital, and on my birthday a lawyer came to visit me. She was friends with my dad and somehow tracked me down. My dad left me money in an inheritance fund that I could access once I was twenty-one. It wasn’t a ton of money in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough to get me out. Once I was out of the hospital I packed all my things and left. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I didn’t tell anyone I was even leaving. I just got in my car and drove until I was almost out of gas.

“That’s when Ethan started stalking me. He somehow found where I was living and would show up at my work. I was able to get a restraining order but he violated it the very next day. The cops didn’t do anything, so I packed up and left again. Sometimes he would find me and I would move again, and sometimes if I knew I was in one place for too long, I’d just go to a new place. I’ve seen a lot in the nine years I’ve been running—did a lot too. I found a doctor who would remove my tubes for me so there was no chance I could ever have kids against my will. I found a tattoo artist who specialized in covering scars and he recreated all the plants I used to see at my grandmother’s before she passed away. I saw therapists to help me through all the shit I went through, and even now I still try to see one virtually.” She let out a breath. Ellie could feel her heart racing in her chest. “But Ethan’s found me again. I saw him the other night while I was at work, and I know he’s the one that broke into my apartment.”

Ellie finally looked at Copia. His mouth was slightly ajar and he had a look of concern and horror in his eyes. “I’m sorry for dumping this all on you. Please don’t think I’m pathetic and stupid and weak.”

“Tesoro,” Copia said with such tenderness that it made Ellie’s heart speed up even more. “You are not weak or pathetic or stupid. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. You are a survivor. I am so sorry you experienced so much pain and trauma.” 

Ellie was wiping stray tears from her cheek. “Really?” 

“Really,” Copia said putting a hand on her knee and squeezing it. “Thank you for trusting me with your story. I could tell you telling me all that wasn’t easy.”

“I don’t know what to do, Copia,” Ellie sniffled. “I’m afraid of what he will do. I’m going to try to get another restraining order, but I know that won’t stop Ethan. And I can’t afford to move again. I barely have any money left from my dad and I feel like a complete idiot for wasting it all on running.” 

“Answer me, yes or no. Don’t think about it. Do you want to leave and move elsewhere again?”

“No,” Ellie said immediately. “I don’t. I…I like it here and I like the people who are in my life right now.” 

“Then let’s take this one step at a time,” Copia said. “Let’s talk to the police when they get here and then for tonight, at the very least, you’ll come back to the abbey to stay. I’m sure we can find a dorm for you to sleep in or you can stay with Gemma perhaps.” 

Ellie nodded her heart swelling. “Okay, thank you.” 

“Of course, cara, and for the record, I don’t want you to have to leave again either.” 

XXX

Copia never wanted to commit murder more than he did after Ellie told him everything. Copia knew if he ever encountered Ethan the man would not live long after. How could anyone hurt the sweet and strong woman that sat next to him? Copia wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and keep her safe. 

When the police finally showed up, Copia stood aside as Ellie showed them the damage to her apartment. They took her report and then listened to her as she explained the situation with Ethan. Copia clenched his fists when the cops explained they didn’t have enough evidence to investigate Ethan or take him in for questioning even after Ellie showed them the previous restraining order she had against him.

Fucking useless pigs, Copia thought.

After a phone call to her landlord, Ellie packed a bag with a couple of changes of clothes and gathered up anything she’d need to take with her to the abbey. In the morning someone would come replace her door and get her a new set of keys. 

“Do you want to get any of this cleaned up before you go?” Copia asked looking around her apartments. It was sparsely furnished with secondhand furniture. There was nothing on the walls. She had a tiny flat-screen tv sitting on an old coffee table. Hooked up to it was a Playstation, but Copia didn’t know which one it was. He never used a Playstation before. As Ellie shuffled around in her bedroom, he got a peak at some of the games she had, which were all for the Playstation 3 it seemed. He spotted The Last of Us, Portal 2, Skyrim, and Minecraft. He never played any of them before and only ever heard of a couple of them.

“I’m just going to leave it in case the cops want to come back and get pictures,” Ellie said coming out of the bedroom with a backpack. “See you found my games. I noticed you had some nice retro consoles when I was in your room.”

“Si, I like the games I grew up with. Can’t go wrong with a good old Nintendo,” Copia said.

“A bit before my time, I had an N64 when I was a kid before my mother got rid of it. I played a lot of Zelda on that thing,” Ellie reminisced. “Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe once all this nonsense blows over, maybe you can come over and we can play some games?”

His heart rate skyrocketed at that. His lips turned upward into a smile. “I’d like that.” He stared at her and blinked, coming to his senses. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be here in case Ethan decides to come back,” Ellie said, a slight tremble visible in her frame. 

Copia led the way out and helped Ellie seal the door some some tape the cops left. He then led her out of the building and down the street where his white 1968 Buick LeSabre sat.

“Oh, wow,” Ellie said. “This is a sick car.” 

“Thank you, cara,” Copia preened. “This baby is all mine.” He walked around to the passenger’s side and opened the door for her. “I’ll take your bag.”

“Thanks,” Ellie said shrugging her backpack into Copia’s waiting hands. He put the pack in the trunk as Ellie slid into the seat. 

The drive up to the Ministry was silent. Copia was trying to figure out the best way to help Ellie. Part of him wanted to sick the ghouls on the man making Ellie’s life hell. He glanced at her before his eyes refocused on the road ahead. He was still in shock at how much she revealed to him. She had trusted him enough to tell her story without must hesitation. Copia felt like he didn’t deserve that trust. 

When Copia parked his car in his usual spot, he got out and hurried around to Ellie’s side, opening her door and holding out a hand to help her out. He then grabbed her bag and led her inside the abbey and to his office.

He felt for his bonds with his ghouls, grasping onto a thread and tugging it to bring one of them to the office. Seconds later,  Aether was appearing in the doorway, hands tucked behind his back.

“Ah, Aether, perfect,” Copia said, watching Ellie jump slightly at the sudden appearance of the ghoul. “Could you find Ellie an empty room? She will be staying here for a night or two.”

“Of course,” Aether responded, bowing his head slightly to Ellie. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When Aether departed, Copia turned back to Ellie. “Can I get you anything? Food? Something to drink? Anything?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” Ellie said softly. “I just want to lay down and sleep quite honestly.”

“Fair enough. You’ve had a very long day,” Copia nodded. “Please, let me know if there is anything you need. I mean it. Even if you need to talk after you wake up.” 

Ellie nodded. “Thanks.”

“Found a room,” Aether’s voice once again came from the open door.

Copia looked from Ellie to the ghoul and nodded. “Lead the way.”

Aether took them to a room on the second floor of the residence wing for the Siblings. The room was clean and empty holding a full-sized bed, wardrobe, private bathroom, and dresser. 

“I’ll have someone bring your sheets and towels and all that stuff,” Copia said setting Ellie’s bag on the bed. “Is this okay for you?”

“This is perfect, thank you, really,” Ellie said looking around the room. Her eyes rested on Copia and he could see such gratitude and warmth in them. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”

“Bah,” Copia said waving the suggestion off. “You don’t have to repay us. This is what we do. We help those who need help and shelter those who need sheltering.” 

[transmascxielian]

its MY tumblr blog and i get to painstakingly write out an animatic i'll never make. SO ive got a heaven official's blessing piano man animatic in mind and i just can't shake it

ages ago i was listening and came up with this stupid concept just for the sake of funniness where i was imagining it as xie lian singing, mu qing and feng xin passive-aggressively going back and forth at each other with piano and harmonica respectively, hua cheng backing xl with the accordion, and shi qingxuan playing the lyre/mandolin in the background. and that was it for the longest time and was just a joke. but then i listened again and now have accidentally associated the lines with everyone

'he says 'son can you play me a memory? i'm not really sure how it goes, but it's sad and it's sweet and i knew it complete, when i wore a younger man's clothes''-- this is fairly nebulous because i don't know enough about him (sorry!) but this just makes me think of mei nianqing.

'now john at the bar is a friend of mine, who gets me my drinks for free, and he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, but there's someplace that he'd rather be'-- shi qingxuan. their whole feeling of lost potential. 'he says 'bill i believe this is killing me', as the smile ran away from his face, 'well i'm sure that i could be a movie star, if i could get out of this place'' once again. you're there and you have a role and youre good at your role. but can't shake the feeling that you could do so much more.

'now paul is a real estate novelist who never had time for a wife, and he's talking with davey who's still in the navy, and probably will be for life'-- this may be a little bit gauche but pei ming and shi wudu. pei ming's fuckboy reputation which may or may not be a front for just not having enough energy to give to one person. and the navy -> sea association aside, spending time with the other person there who can't commit. and they both definitely fucked but regardless of that this brings us onto

'and the waitress is practising politics as the businessmen slowly get stoned, yes they're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone'-- ling wen. reduced to serving the other gods despite being more than capable (or perhaps because she's more than capable) intellectually. finding escapism from this place she's put in through others who are similarly disregarded in a sense based on reputation. the three tumours as three people who bonded initially only out of having nobody else really to turn to.

'it's a pretty good crowd for a saturday, and the manager gives me a smile, cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to see to forget about life for a while'-- jun wu, and how xie lian is such an emblematic figure for better or worse, representing everything idealistic and perfect about the heavens, and in the end being such a figurehead (and, when needed, an easy punching bag) that everything wrong with his heavens goes unnoticed for so long.

'and the piano, it sounds like a carnival, and the microphone smells like beer, and they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar and say 'man, what are you doing here?''-- hua cheng, watching and waiting for him the whole time. giving xie lian support and sustenance in everything he does for the heavens, and never telling him to leave, but wondering the whole time why he does all this for a system that doesn't deserve him. loving him enough to let him live by his own choices, but loving him too much to not be eaten up by watching him do this and receive nothing in response.

this is by no means perfect nor the best character analysis/song application. and it does bug me that nothing stood out to me to be right for mu qing and feng xin (i think about the xianle quartet a lot.) but i had such a vivid feel for everyone i mentioned here that they didn't feel right for the song. anyway if you've read all of this i love you and please talk to me about tgcf

[wifey-ohara]

I'll fill the silence for you

Sick hobie& younger sibling! Reader

So in my hobie hcs i said that we took care of him after the spider bite soo i just wanted to write it out, because nothing else was moving along, hope you enjoy this little drabble

Notes: platonic, Siblings love, comforting hobie, painful spider bite, reader can sing, lyrics and verses from don't speak by no doubt because ive been listening to it none stop, proof read by my friend angel(thx love), probably gonna add to it

@randomaddict1 asked if i have more hobie and sib reader and the answer is, always

"and if it's real i don't want to know~"

And you sang along what songs you remember..

It was 5 am in the morning, and the sun started to shine in you and your older brother's little speace you called your home, unfortunately, you haven't had a blink of sleep that night.

Not that the timing was unfamiliar to you, you two were all too happy with staying up late and even skipping a whole night sleep before going to living your lives, doing your jobs as if you rested the night before, spending those sleepless nights partying, hosting concerts, singing and having fun, or just on some roof you two climbed, staring at the stars, talking about life, the future, your plans, or running in the rain, playing as if you were children again.

But tonight,your voice echoing around the quiet place, arms creating random shapes in his arm, the other on his back, repeating a mindless tapping motion on it, you were doing everything in your power to keep yourself awake.

You haven't dared to stop holding him and singing ever since you almost fell asleep after him and he started whispering in pain and kicking slightly two hours ago.

You don't think you'll ever forget the image of him on the floor, back arched forward, chin to his chest, jaw so tight you're suprised his teeth are still intact, eyes sealed shut yet cheeks wet from sweat and tears, loud grunts of pain escaping him.

You ran to his side, looking for any gunshot wounds, stab openings, any proof of the intruder that your dagger was drawn out for, yet none were apparent, actually, he seemed perfectly fine.

"it was a spider!" he yelled, gasping before he drew his lips shut again.

You're still confused about it, but you held him through it all, whispered in his ear comforting words, rocked him back and forth, let him squeeze your hand, encouraged him to scream it out, until he tired of it and began to take deeper breaths, eyelids fluttering shut, snuggling to your shoulder.

"sing f'me... Please" he sobbed "of course" you replied.

And thats how you two ended up like this, his head on your shoulder, both arms around you, finding safety in your touch and yet protecting you at the same time

..

He woke up to your humming, feeling your hands hanging by his shoulders, as your head was dropped back on the couch.

It was soothing, never failing to ground him and put him at ease, and now, it makes the needles running under his skin somewhat softer, and the heaveiness of his head lighter.

"don't tell me because it hurts" he said matching your humming, lifting his head off your shoulder to take a look at you.

And any soothing feelings he had when he woke up disappeared into thin air.

You lifted your head as well, smiling at him, Your eyes were red and puffed out, covered in sweat and tears.

"don't speak, i know just what you're sayin' " you replied, voice raspy and it sounded like it hurts you to talk.

"trouble what the hell is this, why you lokin' like that?" he asked still tired and sick but he has other matters to take care of, like knowing why his sibling looks like they walked through hell and back.

And then he remembered.

"little one, did you sleep?" he asked, voice softer this time.

"i couldn't.." you said, and he frowned at you.

"Comeon then" he was still sick and every not fit to change positions with you in his arms but he did anyway, ignoring the sharp soreness the consumed him whole,and the wave of dizziness that came with it ,turning to the side so he could put you on top of him, feeling that urge to throw up fading a bit to the back of his throat.

He reached up and started playing with your hair, messaging your scalp gently, already scolding himself for letting stay up watch over him all night and halfway through the day, planning on calling whoever you had scheduled a job with today and tomorrow and tell them that you won't be there.

It took him awhile to go back to sleep but he did, eventually.

[shakingparadigm]

WOW. I JUST. I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR ANALYSIS AND THEORIES DON'T EVER STOP PLEASE. I LOVE THE STRUCTURE OF YOUR EXPLANATIONS.

In the chaos of the wait,there is someone to accompany me through a journey of madness with Alien Stage. Haha.

*insert meme of cat with wine*

I wonder what does Till think about Ivan.Now that Mizi is missing,and he seems to have completely lost himself and a reason to pursue forward,I couldn't help but ask myself: "Does he feel like he's condemned to die because of his guilt towards Ivan too? Does he feel like this or l'm just overthinking?" What if there's a retrospective we don't know about in which Till thinks Ivan didn't escape because of HIM and,now that Mizi isn't there,he's not torn about lvan anymore and what to do if he ever had to compete against him? Was he going to be conflicted in the first place? Like: "I have nothing,l lost my last hope. I may just die now rather than make my friend being killed. Is this the right thing? Why it had to be this way from the beginning,suffering because of the aliens? What am I? Why do I have to remember those things? What am I doing this for? I just wanted to survive and love Mizi"

Like we all know,thanks to the community posts,we see him have a certain dynamic with Ivan,in which they interact joking or bickering,and this strengthens a type of attachment he cannot deny. So,in the ROUND CURE we'll see Till (or Ivan) remember their past and we'll get to know more about their story with the progression of the actual one. (Ivan indeed didn't escape to stay with him,but Till doesn't know about lvan feelings,he may have been supposing all this time that he didn't made it or he just followed him back for some strange reason) I'm uncertain if they remember about seeing each other in the laboratories,through all the trauma...

l just hope that Till and Ivan don't succumb. What if lvan encourages Till to fight again unlike Luka with Mizi. What will Ivan do to try to protect Till?

Sometimes I suspect Vivinos like to play with us. Not just our feelings. WE ARE HERE JUST TO SUFFER.

THE HEARTBEATS IN THE TEASER MAKE ME FEEL SO NERVOUS HELP.

I just know that Till looks so broken and... he may have had a breakdown at this point. He has dark circles under his eyes and it's clear he has not been sleeping. I wonder if the aliens drugged him or something. For the lenght of the hair: how much time has passed?! At least a month?

One more thing I noticed,is that Till doesn't seem to have that sort of IV tube they used to sedate him like on stage in ROUND 2.

And in Hyuna's song,around the end,a security guard writes something in the sand. I don't think they'll be discovered for this but I'm really nervous.

Anyway,l really enjoy my time on your beautiful page! 🫂 Oh,please! Don't think you write stupid things,because your ideas and perspective are interesting and well put. I really like how you express yourself!

Have a nice day!! (and sorry for any mistake)

AH?!!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! tears in my eyes...

Yes!!! I shall accompany you through the madness. In fact I carry the madness in myself as well. If my yelling and flood of posts are anything to go by.

ALSO. WOW. That's genuinely so heartbreaking. Till having guilt isn't talked about often but it's very plausible that he'll be feeling it tenfold during this round. It's his fault, after all, that they're still here. Now that Mizi, the whole reason he stayed, is gone too, what was all of it for? He doomed himself and Ivan for nothing. You're right. He seems hopeless. I can definitely feel Till in those words, and it's so sad to think about how his thoughts could devolve to that point. He seemed so determined, so bright and dynamic at the beginning during ROUND 2. Now he seems so empty. Ivan and Till are definitely much closer than the both of them let on, there's no way they were just "fine". I think Till does hold fondness for Ivan, maybe even a little aware of his feelings (I don't think he knows what extent though, not sure he knows that Ivan's world literally revolves around him). What I'm sure of is that Till isn't as indifferent to Ivan as he might seem. Ivan is incredibly important to him too, and he has to come to terms with all of the guilt and feelings that were previously buried under his love and fixation for Mizi.

Oh... If Ivan spent most of ROUND 6 encouraging Till to fight I would be HEARTBROKEN. I remember one of the most common theories in the beginning was that Ivan would refuse to fight so that Till could win, and maybe Till would try and convince Ivan to fight. It's really interesting to see that the opposite might be true instead! And yes, VIVINOS LOVES to play with our feelings! It's their specialty.

Haha, Till's always had horrible eyebags! He apparently only gets less than 5 hours of sleep per day, and he's an incredibly light sleeper. Despite his eyebags though, Till always possessed such a large amount of energy. He had a lot of fight in him. You're right though, now he just seems exhausted. He's definitely been spiralling down into some very dooming thoughts. I wonder how much time has passed too...

An IV tube? I believe that's just his leash (just to make sure he's constantly restrained), but wow, thinking of it as an IV tube has some very horrifying implications. If they tried to sedate him, it definitely didn't work well HAHAH (RIP Freddie).

I thought the security guard writing in the sand was just a fun little visual gag, but if it's actually used to track down Mizi and Hyuna, oh shit. Improved security, after all. This isn't gonna be easy for them.

Thank you so much for enjoying my blog!! It means a lot to me, seriously. I might cry receiving all these nice notes and messages. Don't worry about any mistakes, by the way! You're quite a well-put writer yourself! :) Thank you for expressing yourself to me as well! I appreciate sharing all these ideas and hearing about new ones! I hope you have a great day too! ^^

[e40536]

I don't know how often you use Tumblr, but I saw what you posted on Twitter. I was going to post this to your strawpage but it's too long.

So to keep it anonymous, l'll just leave what I wrote for you here.

Take it how you will, I didn't intend for it to come across as rude or offensive. I'm sorry if it does.

But here

This might not be accurate but I'll just say this

For most people, we do things that we love, we feed off leisure. We spend our time developing skills based on those principles, some learn guitar, some start collections, some learn to draw, and others do a myriad of other things.

But, something about leisure, and having hobbies; is that in due time, no matter how hard we try. We lose fulfillment In what we do, some things just aren't enough anymore, the passion is dying down or at least hiding somewhere in your brain.

It's always unpleasant, to feel like you're losing yourself.

But, you're still creating who you are, you're still finding new parts of yourself in everything you love, in every song, in every book, in every movie, and in your everyday life. You find mediums to express yourself- you maintain them and you have your whole life, no matter where you are no matter what you do, you'll be doing something that you love weather you're aware of it or not.

So, when something does become tedious when it doesn't drive you the way it used to, you will continue on, you will start a new Whether you mean to or not.

You deserve a passion, an image, a voice, a story, you deserve to want to know who you are. Fight with yourself, and learn about yourself. Make things and do things, love things.

No matter what you decide to do, you'll be here [here as in Alive, not wherever you currently are]. And the people you love will hopefully be there too.

I can't claim to know how you feel, especially since I don't completely remember every point you made in your original tweet? But if you want a break, if you want to try something new. I think you should, no matter how scary, you deserve to develop and development takes change.

That's how you got here and that's how you'll get to wherever else you're headed.

That's all, goodbye, see you later

~☆*

no offense to you or anything but when i get lengthy asks i skim through them to see if its a bot or a person and i had to do a double take for this one because i read “some learn guitar” i thought this was an ad and then i looked a little closer HAHA…. Anyway, my actual response under the cut im about to go on a ramble:

First of all, i want to thank you for taking the time to write this and find a way to send it to me. This didn’t come off as offensive in any way at all! I like keeping the anon option on because while it does allow for nasty people to hide behind it, there are kind people like you who just prefer to stay hidden (i am one of these people, so i understand). And thank you again for reading what i originally wrote.

i deleted it not out of shame or embarrassment for being vulnerable on the internet, i want to share that side of myself to followers from time to time. I did it cause i thought what i said mightve sounded too incoherent, i was in a mood. I have been in one for quite some time and while ive managed to have quick escapes from it, it always comes back. To say im just miserable would be an understatement. And my deteriorating mental state reflects how i think about my social media presence, posting/sharing things, & creating them. I screenshotted everything with plans to rewrite (or just repost) what i said… I posted that in hopes of letting other people know how much i appreciate their viewing of my content. Even if they’re a silent follower. And also because i wanted to share my own perspective on the whole posting for likes or posting for love of art. I hoped that how i ended it came off a little optimistic. While i am sad, I still do believe things will turn out fine in the end..

It feels… weird (in a good way dont worry, im kinda in disbelief at the moment haha) to see people say that i deserve a voice, passion, story or image, because i just kind of mindlessly post things. I don’t think very hard about how others might perceive it. I don’t really think of myself as anything really. Not in a total self deprecating way its just like euuuhhh? me? artist? an inspiration? I know i inspire some because they have told me, but it never truly clicked for me that like, oh yeah this person actively thinks about the things i make or write when they want to be inspired. And like i said in the tweets, my drive is different from others… i have no overwhelming desire to be KNOWN and PRAISED, although i get why others do, that shit is addicting, haha. i just post for the people who i know like to see what i make. I feel accomplished as an artist in that sense, that ive left a mark on someone, one person at least. I have always been in the background of projects rather than be in the front of them. You see my name in various credits, in fact most of my audience came from other people mentioning me in their works. I used to really struggle and even cry over this (i still kinda do), but then i learned to be fine with it… proud of it even in a sense cause its great to be apart of things. Its just the way other people treat me is where it gets me. I dont like being treated like someone’s shadow haha.

Earlier last year i struggled with what to do with my life (career wise) and i am… still struggling. The road im currently on leads to a career that has nothing to do with art but still something i want to do, have wanted to do since i was small. But i feel like i am betraying the other me, the kid me who did have dreams of being an artist, they did not have huge aspirations of making an original show or comic or anything, but they did want to be apart of things, help others realize those aspirations. We will see though, who knows, maybe the road will throw me a curve ball and ill be in a class learning the skills to try to master something ive been doing for years.

as for posting art, i dont intend on taking a break dont worry, im all good over here. I want to keep sharing the stuff i make, haha. That was supposed to be what everyone shouldve taken away from my closing statement on that tweet. That im going to continue creating & putting stuff out for the people who do care to see it. Numbers are irrelevant, as long as there’s someone out there its worth sharing.

thank you again, this made me tear up a little bit… I really appreciate this, more than you know. Like i mentioned in the tweet i revisited some of the nice things people have said to me regarding my work/person to help my mood, it is nice to receive something new to read… i really needed this. Thank you <3

[irregularsleepingfish]

I think it's really fucking funny that of all the songs on Will Wood's In Case I Make It (yeah I know. 20-something trans man that listens to will wood. how typical) - an album that has a song about euthanizing a pet, and another one from the perspective of a truly innocent (in action and in mindset) doormouse that gets poisoned by the humans that own the house it lives in, the one that makes me actually cry somewhat consistently is the one about getting married.

breaking this because it's gonna be long as fuck. content warning for trauma dump I fucking guess. I'm not offended if you skip this one trust <3

the reason why is so simple. I've spent my entire life not understanding why those around me think I'm such a freak and why I can't keep up with what the hell my parents want from me. turns out I'm neurodivergent (possibly and/or probably autistic, definitely adhd. maybe some other cocktail that I'm not even aware of) and when you grow up with conservative parents and a neurodivergent brother who was given attention and care and assistance that he needs, and your neurodivergence is "less obvious" than his, sorry kid you have to be the perfect child. I couldn't possibly have adhd or whatever. I was just lazy, you see - I was a spoiled, entitled brat and not doing my homework and failing my classes wasn't indicative of any real struggle. it was indicative of the fact that I hadn't been punished or disciplined enough, don't you see? my father once called me a bitch during a period where my friends at that time (hs girls so what can you do) abandoned me and I was having doors slammed in my face and being harassed at every opportunity. and whenever I'd bring this up as reasons that just MAYBE I'm a bit traumatized I'm told "man you still haven't gotten over that?"

i was never given the graces of the people who were supposed to take care of me and that led me into a relationship that I clung to for dear life as a fucked up teenager because it was all I knew and I felt like I needed that to survive. then as years went on that relationship turned sour for me and it took me far too long to escape it because I once again felt trapped in an obligation to someone who, from my perspective, wanted me to be someone I am not - much like my parents. they wanted me to do things I did not want and made me viscerally uncomfortable, putting more trauma on me to where after I finally broke it off (messy and unfun btw) I felt like I could never find love. like there was too much wrong with me. the way I think is very pragmatic and I don't feel empathy the way other people do. I had to learn that myself.

it took me so long to finally become someone worth being. a HUGE part of that came with transitioning (shocker!)

so anyways the song. about finding someone to be happily married to. constantly echoing "just like my parents" and because MY parents are egregious and annoying and my father is a piece of shit and my mom both tries and doesn't care enough somehow, it stings like a poisonous irony.

then at the end he goes "Just like my parents... yeah right." and it's like a knife to the gut type of reminder that I'll never be just like them. but I also don't fucking want to be. I mean ok mainly because I'm never having kids fuck that, but in terms of a healthy marriage - IF I ever even got there. which, when I first heard that song, I fully believed I never would.

why would I be able to love anyone, anyhow. who would ever be ok with someone as traumatized as I am. navigating an awful relationship with my parents. an ex that made me think I hated physical touch. so on and so forth.

every crush I confess to will turn me down. so let's get this over with so this one can turn me down as well, we can go back to being friends, and the status quo doesn't have to change.

and then he said yes.

"ive made more mistakes than simple empty moments. each one as out of character as you know I tend to be."

and with every out of character thing I do I realize they all come together to create this character I've made that is myself. every mistake I've made is why I'm me. stored within the chemicals of my brain.

this is not a mistake. this might just be the most important thing I've ever done. even if this doesn't last long the past month or whatever has shown me, concretely, that I am capable of loving and being loved in a way that I just didn't think I was able to do anymore. even if this doesn't last - which, you know, I hope it does, who in my position wouldn't? - the experience I've had here has changed me for the better. I don't feel trapped. I don't feel tethered, or obligated, or anything. I just feel happy. I just feel loved. it's possible to be in a relationship that's so untethered and free and genuine and I had no idea. maybe there is a future in which I can grow old with someone.

but of course it's all an if and a maybe and a who knows because you know it's been four weeks. roughly. still there's a lot you can learn from having deep conversations with someone for those weeks.

"Close enough to forever, I guess, to prove what I hope. I mean, otherwise, how am I to believe?"

I love you.

[lucky-draws]

scholarly article: maria silent hill.

uhhmm i feel like ive got a lot of maria thoughts that have been floating in my head for ages and they need to escape captivity. this isn't structured analysis though this is just me trying to explain why i like her in a rambling and disorganised manner. (and sort of hoping it might help me to do some art or something.)

the obvious thing that makes maria such an interesting character is that she's not Real...she's the product of james' imagination (at least, that's one interpretation..) ...she's an idea, a symbolism, a hallucination, a ghost, whatever. but in born from a wish, you get to play as her, you get to hear her thoughts, you experience her and she feels as "real" as any other playable character, and it's like. its just so so good, because she's a self-aware unalive girl and there's so much to explore regarding her sense of self, and her sense of identity. like.

she has no past, no memories. or does she? does she have mary's memories, or tastes, or habits, or was she "born" as a blank slate? there's so many different ways to think of her, but in the case of her being a product of james' mind as a kind of idealised version of mary/expression of his sexual repression, i like to think that some of james' desires manifest in her, like maybe she has this kind of restless energy, a restless hunger/desire that she can't really control or finds it hard to suppress. idk its hard to articulate. ( listen to sister of night by depeche mode if you like because that is a song that makes me think hoh....this is maria ! )

and the whole thing of her knowing that she only exists in james mind/because of james. she tries to cling on to him, tries to convince him that "i'm always here for you, james!" because she knows that as a figment of his imagination, if he decides he doesn't want her anymore, she will just cease to exist. james is her "creator" basically. she's at his mercy.which is a horrible and tasty dynamic. and i just enjoy the whole thing of can she break free of him; can she break free of her connection to him, to mary, can she develop thoughts and feelings and desires that are entirely her own. could she become a "real" person. does she want to? she knows she's a ghost; but when she decides not to kill herself, is that out of a desire to live or resignation to the fact that she can't die? she's an incredibly lonely character.

(also if you've ever seen tarkovskys solaris or read the book maybe you will understand me when i compare her to the character of hari i.e. an apparition/hallucination who possibly becomes/believes she becomes real. idk. unalive girls who become alive even though its sort of not possible. i just enjoy them. )

i also have a very specific sort of canon-divergence flavour of idea related to the rebirth ending and in a sort of maria x mary way; my vague imagining is that james succeeds in bringing mary back to life, through the ancient Powers of the town or whatever. but there's a catch, so to speak; maybe the town demands that for a life to be reborn, a life has to be taken, and so james um. conveniently for shipping purposes. dies. but mary lives, and so does maria, because the mysterious and tricky town considers her to be inseperable from mary/kind of the same person, so they both end up alive and in silent hill. which opens up so many issues like. how does maria come to terms with looking at someone who is her copy (and vice versa.).

does mary even want to be alive? maybe she isn't "properly" alive; maybe she's just a ghost like maria. maybe james isn't really dead; maybe they're both existing as products of both his imagination and the town's influence; either way, now there's two unalive girls in an empty, monster-filled town. and it's like do they hate each other are they just sad ghosts together do they have gay sex sometimes we just dont know. i wanted/still kind of want to write fic about this idea in some form or other but so far i just haven't really managed to find time or braincells but maybe i still can at some point.

of course, there are other ways of interpreting maria; i've seen the theory that actually, she's the product of mary's desires; she's who mary wants to be, an idealised mary who isn't sick. and maybe she felt some kind of repression or opression being with james. and it certainly fits the "born from a wish" title very well; a wish to be healthy, a wish to be free. who knows. that idea is equally tasty and fascinating, really, but i only have room in my tiny mind for one interpretation so im kind of just leaning for now towards her being born from james' mind intstead . so uhm.

conclusion: she's just so so fascinating to me and she rotates in the back of my mind 24/7. i love sh2 and i looove born from a wish its sooo interesting to be able to play as someone like maria.

also she's sexy .

the end.

[jazzically]

YAY OK IT IS TIME FOR MY FAVORITE MAG.....

#30 — killing floor

:3 i love this im glad i started relistening

(god lmao jon hasnt even started reading yet and i already yapped enough to create two other posts)

OOOOUGH OKAY i nearly forgot but one of the reasons i like this ep so much is bc of how smoothly the introduction pieces segue into one another. david (the statement giver) talks about how he used to work at an abattoir, then how it's in the middle of nowhere, then about how slaughterhouses are usually not near anything because people get weird vibes™ from them, then his own indifference (which, as foreshadowing, he mentions in the past tense) to these weird vibes, and THEN with that tense setup out of the way, the story begins. it's already got such a good mood in place. nothing is overdone, no long-winded speeches about how the institute's archives must think him terribly cold-hearted or whatever...

(and u just know its gonna be good because. i mean. of course meat processing plants are gonna be breeding grounds for horrifying flesh-adjacent manifestations!!!! this is in s1 btw so its not like immediately super predictable. mass production, bodily insignificance... classic metaphorical hotspots for my dear viscera)

ok resuming now

GOD DAMN SORRY PAUSE AGAIN. remember when i posted about panopticon by harvo? well ever since ive been listening to the songs obvi and the one for the Flesh (spoilers for aforementioned album sorry) samples a line in this statement. i completely agree with their selection but its just so UUUGHHH. so um. visceral. if youll permit my joke. ha ha. EEEEEEEEEEEEGH perhaps you oughta go listen to it (shameless propaganda of a fanwork i love) it's so good!! i wont say which line but i could almost hear the instrumental going with it when it came up lmao spooked me just as much as when i first heard it in the song

man!!!!!! the overlap between fears is just so cool!!!!!! i love you endless abattoir with your themes of insanity (the slaughterhouse changes its structure; no doors lead where they should) and insignificance (every animal is just one more body in an endless ocean of produce) and senseless violence (the inherent bloodshed that comes with carnivorism) and coming death (knowing you are about to be met with a grisly end) and uncanny valley (is this where i should be? is this how we remember each other? what kind of animal looks like that?) and control ("casual human brutality") and escape (the frantic search for an exit) and isolation (no one was there; no one was anywhere) and of course bodily mutilation (what are we but another organism?)

anyway applause applause all around!!!!!! that was brilliant!!!!!! also i entirely forgot about the giant torso grinder cavern room so that came as a delightful surprise

it reminds me of the flesh pit/meat mouth in mag 130 (exactly a hundred episodes later :0)