#not getting ripped fr tho it would break me bones me thinks

[thinkingnot]

me after sports: i am in immeasurable amount of pain

[randomgentlefolk]

CPC CHAPTER 169

I swear I gotta put up a reminder or smth man I can't keep posting these posts just 2 hours before the new damn episode

(I must admit, making a review for this episode is kinda difficult)

ISOLDE TO THE RESCUE!! Also I just remember that Maria is still afraid (?) Of Isolde lmao XD

I was wondering where the old guard went :') the fact that he fell asleep during a WAR is honestly impressive though.

WAIT WAIT WAIT NO I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT LELAND BUT BLAINE???? BLAINE FELL??? But before I go to that I must say that plant holding Leland's leg is strong AF. What kinda root does it have...

The parallel of Frederick ripping his sleeves to cover Gwen's wound and then Gwen ripping Maria's blanket to save Leland.

WH. OHHHHHH. OH DAMN OH MAN. YOOOOOOOO. I DID NOT EXPECT THAT. Wait so I'm guessing here that Isolde forged Leland's signature? But when did she send that letter? Was it sent during the war? If yes then the process is really quick! It's just one day.

Honestly I'm so glad Isolde wrote that she's going to take the throne until her sons are ready because they CANNOT rule the whole damn kingdom right now with that mental state. And I honestly love the idea of all of them ruling the kingdom instead of just one of them.

WAIT WAIT WAIT This is what I'm getting but correct me if I'm wrong. I'm guessing Leland signed on the pastry catalogue and gave it back to isolde and that's how Isolde can forge his signature? That's actually really smart.

And she kinda bribed (more like raising their salary, really) the Parliament so they'd accept it right away!! Also by giving them more power! HAH And there's more power for Lavern lmaooo

Aaaannndddd the omniscient clam comment is literally just digging his own grave xd

HECK YEAH JERRY TO THE RESCUE!! FINALLY NAME REVEAL!!! Tho ngl I really thought the lemoncillo was for a molotov cocktail or smth XD

Syrah.............

WAIT DAMN ISOLDE HAS POWER OVER JUDGE, JURY, AND EXECUTIONER???? She really thought it through.

Damn...spoken like a true queen (and she IS a queen!). You go Isolde!!

Ooooh that sentence "what more did you want?".... Leland fr needed to hear that. I mean okay man I get it, your bestfriend said he doesn't need you behind your back and that hurts. Words can hurt like shit, I get it. But that does NOT mean you can just, declare a whole damn war. You can always, y'know, continue to live your life knowing there are people you SHOULD love and people who loves you. Also I gotta add that Jack was probably stressing the fuck out in that moment. His wife is literally dying, dude. There's a chance that he might say things that don't seem right because of impulsiveness. And y'know what if it really bothers you that much, COMMUNICATE. DAMNIT.

Did I say all of those right? I hope I did.

I gotta say I love Isolde even more now. That "off with his head" caught me off guard like I know sometimes we joke about that but I didn't actually think that would happen. Cpc is always about redemption and stuff after all. But now I'm genuinely wondering if Leland should actually be executioned. War, abuse, torture, those should get life sentence right?

So I'm guessing he's going to prison then? Fancy words sometimes gets me mixed up.

OH!! IT GLOWS BECAUSE OF HER KINDNESS, I'M ASSUMING? THAT'S AMAZING. Also the fact that she offered to help the man who just tried to kidnap her...We don't deserve Gwen fr.

So, uh...Blaine? Yeah where is he? I'm theorizing that the tent Nell moved will save him but he should still have some injuries. And the chances are he will break at least one bone. I don't think tents are that soft. But I'm willing to hope that he will be perfectly fine....physically.

Well that's all for now!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts)

[seiwas]

ARIIIIIIII 🥺

omg we are literally writing eachother ESSAYS atp 😭 waaah i don't even know where to begin!! but thank you so much for reading and for leaving such lovely comments!! as always!!! 🥺 i'm gonna do my best to answer each one!!!

i get so much validation from you saying you like sel!sugu omg 😭 the fact that you even consider him his own category PLS djhfbsd and you are so right... a paradox personified... i feel like he has so many personalities at different points in his life 😭 which is why!!! i stick to non-curse/non-canon 😭 i am so flattered you think i write him so well considering YOU write him the way you do 😭

you already know that i don't really write sugu a lot bc i don't see him that way, so characterising him is always so nervy to me but wahhh i'm so glad you see the thought and care i put into writing him (bc i am so worried abt fucking him up HAHA)

and you saying you want to eat my writing bc it's pretty omg sjhdbfs i am so flattered thank you 😭 i have no other words but you are spoiling me too much w your compliments pls 😭

i love seeing your fave lines bc it's like reliving the whole experience of reading it through your eyes 🥺

and the opening line!! the hook!! omg i was hoping people would get what i was trying to convey with it and i'm so glad you did!! he rlly is serpent coded!! slippery man he is sdfbh he's so sneaky and so ~elusive when he wants to be but so so alluring too it's a whole recipe for fboy 😭 FLEETING IS THE WORD YES!!! i'm so glad you think i captured it, you describing him as a summer breeze is so fitting too 🥺 (pls... his commitment issues... so real...)

AND OMG that 'ghost haunting your memories' line is one of my faves too 🥺🥺🥺 I KIND OF wanted to allude to sugu in canon... bc he is... dead... after all... bADFbds HELP i also just think his overall presence in jjk in general has never truly left even tho he's already gone (like!! the aftermath of who he is, what he's done, lingers in the lives he's affected yknow?)

SUBTLE INTIMACY YOU KNOW IT OMG ASDBF i cannot write a fic and not include it i SWEAR. i'm so glad you like the lil moments i wrote of them, i was trying to give context to their dynamic without prolonging it too much and i'm glad it worked!!

AND OMG PLS. i have such a vivid picture of fboy!sugu's fashion shdfbhsjd the leather jacket turtleneck combo is one of them and is a STAPLE i swear. HE DOESSSS COLLECT SWEATERS TOO!! i think he has them really loose, sometimes falling to one side exposing his collar bone. the sleeves extend past his fingertips too 🥺 i also think he has those ones with rips and holes sjfhbhjsd

AND YES OMG i like the idea of sugu's tell being his mouth/smile bc i like the contrast to satoru's eyes. this was also ~~kind of a nod to how his cursed technique involves his mouth jdbhgjs and you are so right abt sugu yearning for understanding!! i think truly, what gets him to fall for someone is someone who gets him 🥺

(him swallowing his lies was also an nod to how he swallows his curses!!) but WAAAHHH ari i am so touched you fr. i do try my best to reach into a character and grab the softest parts of them, so every time you compliment the way i humanise a character my heart flutters fr!!! and omg you telling me that the way i write them is distinct!! that is such a compliment!!! ive always thought that my writing's a bit simple and plain so this means so much 🥺

you couldn't have worded it better: suguru geto vs the mortifying ordeal of being Known and Loved (instant loss)

PLS DONT APOLOGISE OMG I AM SO TOUCHED YOU EVEN REACTED TO ALL UR FAVOURITE BITS. I WILL ALSO SAY THE SAME THING OVER AND OVER, THAT I AM SO TOUCHED EVERY TIME YOU NOTICE INTIMACY IN MY WRITING!! THE SOFTNESS AND EVRYTHING!! it's all i aspire my writing to have tbh 🥺

pls omg reading your reactions to all this is making ME feel so soft for him too jhabsfs i am also such a sucker for breaking down walls and stripping down layers sjhdbhgsd i feel like it's such a big element in all of my fics hsdbfj

i am also so hAPPYYY you remembered the callback of him being nervous when he swallows twice omg i put those things in bc its satisfying to me and i just silently hope ppl notice it toos dhjfbsd

and like i said!! i am SUCH a sucker for stripping down layers and revelations and i am SO GLAD you like how i applied that to him here too 🥺 (u r so true too... i think hes so charming without charming sdjfb endearing and everything)

AND YES HE IS A TALL MAN . he won't fit in that booth even if he's lanky af .

aND THE SUN LINE. also came to me like an offering from god i swear . u know when lines just click in ur head? that's what that line felt like and i had to put it . and u telling me u associate me with sunlight????!?! oh my god ILL CRY ARI PLS thats so sweet what the heck im so glad my writing makes you feel warm!!! ur description is so hsdfsj i am so emotional rn that is so sweet of you 'it feels like coming home' HELLOOOO that makes me SOOOOO emo

AND THANK GOD HE ISN'T SATORU PLS. if satoru looked the way suguru did he'd be unstoppable and I CANT HAVE THAT

and omg u r so real for bringing stsg in this but i agree!!! i love the suguru that exists with satoru bc theyre both just so playful!!! and i think he rlly needs that with someone yknow 🥺

AND OMG the pHOTOBOOTH FLASHES!!! im so glad you liked it!! bc i was scratching my head trying to figure out how to write that scene in and give it justice omg but im so glad you liked how it turned out!!!! dialogue is not my strong suit at all but i feel like i always try to find other ways to say things yknow? 'you win' is translatable to 'i'm yours' but i felt that that might have felt a bit too cheesy 🥺

and i agree at the root of him he is a softie loverboy LOL

i am LISTENING to you omg they absolutely do stay together 😭 there is NO WAY they r breaking up after this cute ass photobooth confession PLS. this is a memory meant to be passed down. he absolutely DOES carry the photo in his wallet! has it framed yes!!! esp when he notices it fraying and fading from being exposed to air dfbgdsjh

and PLEASE DO NOT APOLOGISE for taking the time to read this or whatever !!!! i am so thankful you even considered reading this !!! it means so much to me, and your reactions and comments are alwyas kept in a very special place in my heart 🥺 thank you a million ari!! you are so lovely!!!!!

₊˚⊹｡ —let's play it again | geto suguru

wc: 1.6k

summary: you don’t see why this good thing should end, so you negotiate. 

contains: implied f!reader but no pronouns used, non-curse!au, fuckboy!suguru, vague descriptions of sex

a/n: a part 2 to fuckboy!suguru inspired by those reels/tiktoks of couples capturing confessions in photo booths 🥺 + an early birthday gift for @irisintheafterglow!! he's a lil softie in this one 🥺 i hope you like it my dear iris!!

part 1 <- you are here

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There’s a reason why Suguru always wins—

At the slightest indication of a loss, he withdraws, slipping out at just the right time before it’s considered a forfeit. 

In this game with you, he removes himself quietly, like a ghost haunting your memories. It’s the day after the seventh time he’s spent the night when he cuts contact. Calls, texts, everything. 

You don’t understand any of it; what you had was good—messages you can’t stop replying to, scratches down the length of his spine, fingers threading through the silk strands of his hair; that kind of good. You don’t see why it should end, don’t want it to. 

So you negotiate. 

Bundled up in your favorite coat and the scarf he never returned for, you corner him in the crisp chill of an autumn afternoon. He’s wearing that damn leather jacket again, black turtleneck high to hide his skin from what you hope is the cold and not from you. 

His gaze continues to reel you in, obsidian pools you could sink into. He still smells of apple and tonka bean; you know the cedarwood won’t hit until he’s walked away, trailing the air he passes through. 

There is so much you know about the man in front of you, how he hides his surprise by clenching his jaw; Suguru’s tell is never his eyes, it’s his lips—its sudden movements, the lift of a smirk down to the constriction of his throat.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed and arms crossed, a little anxious.

“Not at all.”

He swallows his lies every time he utters them, does it twice when he’s nervous. 

His Adam's apple bobs two times. 

(He doesn’t tell you your mistake: that you made it so easy to want mornings and nights spent entirely with you). 

So, you negotiate a rematch; a deal to go back to the way things were. 

If by the end of the next six months, neither of you want anything to do with the other, he wins and you’ll never speak to him again. But if you win—

He agrees.

(If he nips it at the bud, proves there isn’t anything more to this feeling and gets over you before he ever has to, then it’s a whole world of pain he’s avoiding—a whole web of attachment he’s never been used to making). 

.

The rematch finds you learning a new side to Suguru.

He’s still charming, eyes dark and voice honey smooth when he speaks. His hands still know you best between your sheets, grabbing hold of your hips and molding you as he squeezes the flesh when you reach your peak.

There’s still freshly made tea sitting on the kitchen counter when you wake the morning after, its temperature the perfect warmth you know he’s mastered. Dinners are still your favorite, and he continues to lean in instead of asking you to speak louder.

Your contact is in his favorites, everyone else unanswered. 

He’s still the same Suguru, except—

The apples of his cheeks flush warm pink when you call him cute instead of handsome; he stutters the first time he sees you dressed up for the new year countdown. And when he lingers those few seconds before kissing you, you swear you catch the corners of his lips curve up into a small smile. 

He stays awake for a bit after sex. You know because you feel him next to you, finger feather light as it trails down the slope of your nose to your lips; then he kisses your forehead, completely innocent, pure, as if he wasn’t just inside you. 

It’s a softness to him he’s never shown you before, less mysterious and more genuine. 

You learn that he keeps mementos and photos all over his room, either aesthetically displayed or safely tucked inside boxes; that he holds onto the things that remind him of the people he’s let in his life, even when they’re gone—especially when they are.

He loves snacking, biscuits with tea especially, nuts second, and fruits third. When he reaches over one afternoon, cracker pinched between his fingers to feed you so casually, you freeze momentarily. 

But you shake it off quickly, biting it from his fingertips while you smile brightly. The Suguru you know always looks at you directly, but this one coughs before blinking one time too many. 

He swallows twice.

(The voice in his head tells him this’ll do the trick; he’s bared himself to you, mr. mysterious and cool signed out and replaced with none other than just plain Suguru). 

—you like him even more now, you think. 

.

On the fifth month of this whole ordeal, you bring Suguru to a photobooth. 

You figure that if he wins, at least he’ll have this remembrance of you.

It’s old fashioned, one of those booths that only print in black and white—a time capsule of nostalgia, a place that feels of love captured through stills in time. 

You tell him it’s a late birthday gift from you, a last hurrah for your cutest winter outfits. The end of a season before a new one begins. 

Velvet slips through your fingers as you push the curtain to the side, and you bow your head to step in with Suguru close behind. The set-up is fairly simple: a bench, the camera, a touch screen to keep it modernized. You can take a total of eight shots, to be printed later into two strips of four—one for you and one for him, you figure. 

It’s a bit cramped when you settle into the seat, soft cushion sinking further once Suguru follows next to you; for a man over 6 feet, dressed loosely in wide pants and layers of blazers, you’re surprised he even managed to squeeze himself to fit in this tiny space. 

You zip your jacket up until the collar, fleece tickling the corners of your fingertips. The earmuffs you’re wearing act as a perfect statement piece while simultaneously keeping your hair from flying.

It’s a bit unsettling, but Suguru’s been quiet since you got here—watching, observing. 

(Even while you’re setting up the timer, suggesting poses he’s nodding off to, he focuses on you entirely, tilting his head subconsciously.

You’ve been heavy on his mind lately—all the little things about you he can’t help but notice more intently. 

You must be the sun’s lover, how your eyes seem to reflect every beam of it, warming him even in the winter. He’ll never understand what you mean when you say you hate how your hair looks in the morning, baby hairs sticking up and curling around the edges of your forehead; to him, you always look lovely. There’s honesty, in every breath and word you give him—something he’s not used to, something he isn’t well versed in. 

Since giving this another shot, he’s tried to shake you off, put down his front to show you a Suguru so far from the one you know, from the one that first attracted you—all in the hopes of you dropping him. 

Of you conceding to make him win. 

But he’s realizing—

You call him cute when he’s only ever been handsome. And you laugh at his jokes, all the good but especially the bad ones too; you’ve been complicit to one or two pranks on Satoru. Sometimes at night, he clings onto your body, tucking you within him and draping his leg across your hip bone—he’s a human furnace but you let him engulf you entirely. 

He doesn’t expect you to remember that he loves soba, that he’s dreamt of perfecting all forms of martial arts since he was seven. He doesn’t expect you to remember that he prefers hot showers, so he can step out on the tiles to feel contrast so strikingly cold. 

You shouldn’t know this much about him, and yet you do. 

—there’s no one else he’s been this genuine with. 

So when you peer at him smiling, earmuffs resting cozily by your ears, his eyes soften, face relaxing as the corners of his lips curve up into a small grin. 

Flash!

He says it, mouth forming the syllables around his words. You tilt your head, confused, eyebrows furrowing because you can’t hear him. 

Flash! 

His hand reaches for you, pushing your earmuffs to slide down the back of your head. It lands to rest around your neck.

Flash!

“You win.” he says, loud enough to fill the space of the booth. 

You still don’t quite get it, brow raised in puzzlement. 

Flash!

So he grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours before he repeats himself again.

“I said, you win.” 

And the look on your face when it registers, how your eyes glisten like glints on a sunshower; how you give him the prettiest smile that has his heart running for miles. 

He’s confident he’ll always remember this version of you, thankful that he has evidence of it as the camera goes off into another—

Flash!

Tears well up in your lash line; one blink and they’ll fall. You’re smiling so hard he wonders if your cheeks are hurting, if you’ll want him to massage them the way you smooth out the knots between his shoulder blades. 

Your hands remove themselves from his, only to replace the heat on his face.

Flash!

Then you kiss him, lips crashing onto his. you taste of pomegranate—the lip gloss he can’t resist. 

His hand finds its way around your waist, spreading itself to support your back as he dips you, pressing against you harder. While his fingers slot themselves in the junction between your ear and jaw, your hands fall to his chest, gripping the lapels of his blazer. 

Lips smacking, sliding. A breathy smile. 

Flash!

When you part, his forehead rests against yours, the proximity holding you nose-to-nose. 

Suguru’s never felt this kind of peace—he hopes the camera captures it, how contentment looks on his face in moments like this with you. 

Flash!)

.

You step out of the photobooth hand-in-hand, collecting the photo strips from the dispenser; it’s your souvenir after all, a tangible evidence to remind you of the deal you made—

—if you win, he’s yours.

thank you notes: @mididoodles for helping me through this 🥺 + @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for all the support always!! + @mysugu @soumies bc when i think of sugu i think of u both... 🤧

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case Of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: Castle Byers scene. Meaning lots of angst, self destructive thinking, and misguided self punishing

📝: Started making it... had a break down [fr tho]... ¯\_( ツ)_/¯ bon appetite! 👩‍🍳 [edit: told ya 💀]

🔑: underlined and bold means they're talking in Russian

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Warm rain spits from the angry blanket of clouds, falling through the sky and drenching Mike and Lucas to the bone despite their rain gear. Mud splashed up onto their ankles and drenching their socks as their bikes skid up the Byers driveway. Without a thought, they throw their bikes into the ground before racing up onto Will's porch.

It had taken far longer than they cared to admit to decide to go and find Will. To make things right.

Mike was realizing far too late just how right Will was. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. El had become such an important piece of his life, but he hadnt realized until now just how much he let his feelings screw up all the wonderful things he had in his life to begin with. He missed how things used to be. With the party. With Y/n.

With Will.

All the anger he feels towards himself is channeled into his fist banging on Will's front door.

"Will!" He cries. "Will, I'm sorry, man, alright? I was being a total asshole. I've been a total asshole. Please, can you just come outside and we'll talk?"

No answer but the thundering clouds rolling over their heads. He pounds on the door again.

"Will!"

Lucas hurries to the window, cupping his palms against the glass and peering inside. He knocks on the window, doing his best to peer around the curtains and furniture obscuring his sight.

"Hey, Will! Come on, man! We're sorry!" He knocks again, growing nervous. "Will!"

||𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

'Sorry, man. Curfew,'

'For the last time, Will! No!'

-'What, so I should be locked up all day, too?'

-'Maybe!'

Huffing, I throw the wrinkling comic book into the old mattress. Nothing was working. Nothing was enough to distract me. I was too angry.

I looked down at the withered cover of the comic book I had just thrown, my chest sinking further. Dustin's X-MEN 134, he gave it to me after that night at the hospital.

Thinking about it now, I can't even remember the last time all seven of us hung out as a party. I don't count Dustin's welcome home. Mike and El couldn't be bothered to pretend to care, and Lucas and Max kept ganging up on Dustin. Dustin was understandably upset and not wanting anything to do with us, leaving just me and Y/n. And now, not even her.

How did everything get so messed up?

What was I doing wrong?

I looked around the walls of Castle Byers, a lump forming in my throat. Everywhere I looked, I was painfully reminded of the truth.

My friends don't want me anymore.

I keep telling myself that's bullshit, but the more I do the more it feels like a lie.

They're moving on without me.

Friends don't just forget you, I reasoned. They don't just abandon you.

Then why were they doing just that?

Maybe they weren't my real friends. Friend's don't do what they did.

Everything hurts. I've been telling myself I'm fine, that I'm overreacting but I don't think I am anymore. I'm just tired. I'm tried of feeling like this. I'm tired of being pushed aside, especially when I need them most.

They didn't use to be like this, I tell myself. But somehow that just hurts more.

I had people that cared about me, who were willing to risk their lives to save me. Twice.

And now they don't give me a second thought.

I was shaking now, but I don't think it's from the rain. The storm had finally reached me, seeping through the walls and dampening my clothes and hair.

Another painful realization hits me; Castle Byers looked just like it had the night I built it with Jonathan.

Even though this night was so much like the night Castle Byers was constructed, it couldn't feel more different. More unfamiliar.

My teary eyes find my first D&D manual, propped up against the wooden walls, soaked and forgotten like me. I'm painfully reminded of the night all this started.

I remember it as clear as if it were yesterday, and yet it feels light-years away.

'Something is coming. Something hungry for blood.'

《•••》

"What is it?" I ask, edging further off my seat.

This time it's Dustin who cuts in, "What if it's the Demogorgon?"

Oh, great, I think, throwing myself back in my seat with an anxious huff. We're not ready to face a Demogorgon!

Beside me, Y/n draws in an equally anxious breath.

"Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." Dustin rambles on.

"It's not the Demogorgon." Lucas says, assuring us all.

《•••》

My eyes trail to one of my favorite drawings; Will The Wise and Y/C/N. The one I had made when Y/n was first constructing her character. The one that hung in my room for so long, always cheering me up. The one that gave my mom the idea to help me communicate my now memories.

The one that Y/n always threatened to steal for her room as often and as recently as her last visit. The memory of her warm touch lingering on my cheeks burned as bright as the blush raging over me that night so long ago.

'Wait a minute... Did you guys hear that?'

《•••》

The anticipated silence in the basement left by Mike grew louder as he leaned in.

"Boom..." His voice grows louder. "Boom," Louder.

"BOOM!" Mike bellows, slamming his hands against the flat surface, rattling the table and all its contents.

The sudden noise was enough to make me and my friends jump, as was the sudden hand grabbing for my own.

All the more startled, I look down to see Y/n's hand grasping my arm like a lifeline. I feel my skin flush, my cheeks surely reddened as I catch her eye. She looked flustered, smiling a small smile before retracting her hand and returning to the game, unknowingly leaving me in a dizzying blush.

•••

"Will, your action!"

"Fireball!" I cry, throwing the dice to the board with a satisfying rattle.

"FOURTEEN!"

My friends erupt into cheers, all around me as we celebrate together.

"BOOM!"

"Direct hit!" Mike cries, beaming proudly at me across the table. "Will the Wise's fireball hits the Thessalhydra!"

Our excited shouts fill the basement, each and every one of us victorious. My smile can't get any wider when I feel Y/n's hands grip my shoulder and begin shaking me excitedly. We both laugh, feeling on top of the world with our cheering friends by our side.

《•••》

Pained, I look away only to find the proof right in front of my eyes. My three favorite pictures; all of them, my friends and me — happy — staring back up at me.

Our photo from the science fair, encased in the popsicle frame Mike had made bearing all of our characters' names along the side. I brought it here, I brought all my favorite pictures here, to Castle Byers — to my safe place — cause that's where I knew I would need their comfort the most.

But as I look at them now, all I feel is bitterness and pain. I'm reminded of just how much everything has changed.

The science fair was a reminder of the good thing I had before that night. Before everything started.

Y/n and me, at the Snow Ball. My arm wrapped around her, the two of us grinning nervously. It wasn't just the night Y/n and I had first kissed, it was also the first night I felt like the Party had gotten bigger. All of us, Max and El included had been happy. Everyone was laughing and getting along, the happiest we had ever been — the strongest. But now I see it was really the beginning of the end.

It had been coming for so long and I didn't even see it.

And Halloween. Last Halloween, everything had been perfect. For just one. Single. Stupid. Moment.

Shakily, I pick up the photo Jonathan had taken of all of us in our costumes. We were all smiling.

We were all happy.

'Who you gonna call?'

《•••》

I beam as I see my friends pulling up, looking just as excited as I felt.

"Ghostbusters!" I finish, watching as they look me over, happily surprised.

"Hey, Spengler!"

"Egon! Looking sharp!" Y/n grinned, pulling me into a quick hug.

"Janine!" I beam. "Venkman!"

《•••》

As I look at it now, my eyes and throat stinging as Mike's voice echoes louder than ever in my mind.

'I mean, what did you think, really?'

What was I thinking?

'That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day, playing games for the rest of our lives?'

How could I have been so naive?

'it's not my fault you can't move on!'

How could I have been so... so...

"Stupid." I tell myself, my voice splitting in my throat. "So stupid!"

My hands trembling violently with rage and my own sobs, I tear the photo in two.

I was stupid. Stupid to believe I was as big of a priority to them as they were to me.

I rip the drawing off the walls, tearing it to pieces.

Stupid to ever think they'd still cared about me.

I rip and tear and crumple up every meaningful piece of them in an act of defiance.

They won't care. I think bitterly. They won't miss these, they probably won't even notice. Not like I would have.

I grab my bat.

How could I be so fucking stupid?!

Why was I hanging on to all this stuff anyway? Why was I clinging so tightly to something that was already gone?

Because I've been stupid. I'm just some stupid kid that won't grow up.

I storm out of the tent.

I'm just some stupid kid who can't grow up. They made that perfectly clear.

I stand in the pouring rain now, heart thundering in my chest as I stare at the piece of my childhood I couldn't let go of.

So. Stupid.

And I start swinging.

I swing and I swing, with an anger and frustration I've never felt so intensely until now. It's been building my whole life and I didn't realize it. Every swing is simultaneously the best and the worst I've ever felt. Every slur I've heard from my dad, from Troy, is channeled into the bat. Every ounce of frustration and fear I felt since I came back from the Upside Down that nobody understood. Every laugh, every jeer, every single moment I've felt alone is channeled into the destruction of the one place on this earth I ever felt safe.

But it holds up and in the back of my mind, I hear Jonathan again.

'And it took so long cause you were so bad at hammering'

And I start kicking, and I start ripping the walls apart until it's a crumpled heap and I stop.

The sight of Castle Byers in ruins breaks me even harder.

I didn't want it gone, but I did it anyway. That part of me that was angry at myself, told me to keep going. Cause that's what I deserved for believing things could stay the same even though deep down I knew that wasn't true.

I finally stop when I see the castle in ruins.

Exhausted, I collapse to the ground beside the wreckage.

As I sob, stewing in the pain and overwhelming grief I felt I was drowning in, the rain pours heavily over me, soaking me to the bone.

Just as it had the night it had been built.

And now, Castle Byers was gone.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

When blue meets yellow in the west.

8:41 pm. It was almost time.

The yellow and blue clock hands were illuminated by a flash of lightning, streaking through the mall's skylight. Starcourt had long since closed, and the real activity was just beginning.

Stationed at the loading docks near the back, standing under the worst storm Hawkins had seen in years were two guards. They watched through the downpour as the scheduled truck backed its way under the concrete cover.

And perched on the roof, just out of sight sat Dustin, Steve, and Robin, scouting from under their rain slickers.

"Look for Imperial Panda and Kauffman Shoes," she reminds them.

Steve wipes away at the rain dripping into his eyes, squinting even further to get a clear picture Dustin already has.

A man in a bright yellow raincoat emerges from a hidden side door, a trolley cart full of packages marked with a familiar insignia.

"They're with that whistling guy!" Dustin says suddenly, motioning out from behind the only pair of binoculars.

"What do you think's in there?" Steve wonders, eyeing the Lynx logo on the back of their many yellow jackets.

"Guns? Bombs?"

"Chemical weapons?" Robin tries.

"Whatever it is," Dustin says, now cautiously studying the heavily armed guards. He had to admit to himself, they really weren't trying very hard not to be obvious. "they're armed to the teeth."

"Great," comes Steve's sarcastic voice, once again rubbing at his eyes, silently wishing he had brought a coat with a hood. "That's great."

A soft clink that would have been obnoxiously loud had it not been for the noise of the storm brings their attention to another guard. Having pressed a glowing button on a small control panel, two large metal doors swung open to reveal another room.

"Hey!" Robin says, squinting through the rain as she tries to get a glimpse without the binoculars. "What's in there?"

"It's just more boxes,"

"Let me check it out," Steve says, grabbing for the binoculars.

Huffing, Dustin fought to keep his grip on the binoculars. "No, I'm still looking!"

"Lemme see it!"

"Hang on!"

Steve's grip had loosened with the slick of rain, sending the binoculars knocking into the cement. The issue had already been forgotten when they saw the guards' attention had been stolen. Simultaneously, the three of them dove to the ground in a panic.

The guards began to pace, grip on their firearms tightening as they gaze out into the night. Seeing nothing but empty roofs and angry skies above them, they unknowingly miss the trio huddled against the roof wall.

Just out of sight to the right of Dustin, Steve and Robin sat panting as they try to calm their racing hearts. Way too close a call. And neither of them had realized what they had done until their eyes landed on their entertained hands. Just as quickly as they notice, they break apart, embarrassed.

Down below, the guards were now on high alert. One of them, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, stalked into the rain with his eyes deadset on an open spot on the roof. He was certain he heard the noise come from that direction.

"Stay here!" He orders to the other. "Watch the door!"

Reluctantly, his partner complies and inches back towards the doors.

When he finally reaches the top of the stairwell, he hesitates only a moment before he throws the roof door open, gun cocked.

But he was met only with steady claps of thunder and an empty roof.

Had he been wrong?

Or had he just missed whoever had been here?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Clothes drenched, their shoes sloshing underneath their feet like sponges, Steve, Robin, and Dustin slip out from the shadows and make their way throughout the back halls behind the scenes of Starcourt.

"Well, I think we sound your Russians," Robin quips.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Black Trans Travel Fund:

For The Gworls:

"The Black Trans Travel Fund is a grassroots, Black Trans led Collective, providing Black Transgender Women with financial and material resources needed to remove barriers to self-determining and accessing safer travel options"

Trans Women Of Color Collective Fund

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Founded by a Black transgender woman and a Black nonbinary person, For The Gworls raises money to help provide funds for rent and gender affirming surgeries for Black transgender people across the country."

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