#now think about kid disassociating on the roof after this

[thefandomcassandra]

[Image description: a monochrome pencil drawing of Keen, a tiefling with long hair dampened by water, curved horns, and goat-like ears. Her ears are pinned back and she is snarling, a dark mark on her right cheek /end ID]

[Image description: a monochrome pencil drawing of Keen — a tiefling gunslinger — shooting the trident out of the Murk's — a sea elf cleric — hands. The two of them are in silhouette. She stands with confidence, her arm extended, a flash of light emitting from the muzzle of her pistol. The trident is broken in the middle of the handle. The Murk is drawing back on himself /end ID]

[Image description: a pair of monochrome pencil drawings of Aurora — a punk water genasi wearing a spiked jacket and fingerless gloves — meant to mimic a spongebob meme. The first image she has her hands pressed against her lips, her eyes narrowed in concern. The text above her head reads "deep inhale". The second image she is gesturing forward with her hands — both pressed together — now actively frowning. The speech bubble reads, in all caps, underlined "boi" /end ID]

[Image description: a monochrome pencil drawing of Freya, a half-elf bladesinger with her sword across her lap. Her hair is down and she is crying slightly. She is wearing a sweater that says, in all caps "mom, pick me up, I'm scared" /end ID]

[Image description: a monochrome pencil drawing of Kid — a dark-skinned human with light hair — smiling insincerely in front of a large box with air holes in the side. They gesture to the box with one hand. The speech bubble above their head says "This bad boy can fit so much bastard in it" /end ID]

[Image description: a monochrome drawing of Freya — a half-elf — from the shoulders up. She looks distressed. Below her, the text reads "...I abandoned my mom." /end ID]

Sometimes you just meme during dnd sessions while you mentally try and justify casting a 9th level Geas on the shithole that hired a hitman to kill your ranger.

:)

I mean, he definitely didn't die. But if he or his dad try and kill us, he will take [checks notes] 5d10 psychic damage. Which will kill him.

Bad luck, Baltics. Sorry but I'm not.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Happy Engagement

Relationship: Loki x Reader Warnings: contains some dark elements: manipulation Summary: Loki has always thought of you as his and there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep it that way. A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one shot for a while! I had the idea for it months ago and finally wrote it and then it just sat on my computer while I wrote other stuff but I figured since I don’t have anything really new this week it’d be perfect to put out! I hope you enjoy it because I greatly do :)

Masterlist

Loki had always been an interesting force in your life.

You two met when you were just children in school. You two were the official unofficial outsides of your school year — he was a prince, you were a peasant. Despite his royal standing, he’d play with you at recess. For these outlier ways, you two never interacted much with the other kids, life practically forcing you two to one another.

At such a young age, you hadn’t realized how significant this bond would become. As a child, you were just glad someone was talking to you. He shouldn’t have even been looking at you, should’ve maybe been disgusted with your presence alone. You should’ve been some onlooker, amazed by him and his magic but you weren’t — well, except for the magic part. His magic was little when you were kids but it drew quite the amazement from you.

Over time, you two naturally grew with one another. From childhood into your teens and still, now, you two made an unlikely pair of best friends as young adults. All of this though did not come without some bumps along the way.

In your teens, Loki had almost completely shut you out. For some reason, he seemed to be acting embarrassed by you. Your mother had warned you this may happen but you thought he was different, swore he was, unless his sincerity was like the many other tricks he played. Eventually, supposedly after some talking down from his brother, Loki appeared back at your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk.

This disappearing and coming back had become a habit for him over his teenage years and into adulthood. Loki never explicitly told you why but you could tell there was something eating away at him. It had been there a long time and it felt like disassociating himself with you was his solution.

You thought everything was coming to an abrupt end when you fell pregnant. You had been seeing a nobleman who was a regular customer in your parents’ shop. He was absolutely charming and delightful, practically swept you right off your feet within minutes of meeting. Your parents were ecstatic when he asked to court you.

You yourself were stunned but you ran to tell Loki about it. He was speechless. You tried telling him about the man but something in Loki snapped. He got unreasonably upset, spewing hateful comments about the man, practically forcing you out of his chambers in the process. He went radio silent again.

You tried to ignore losing your best friend — again — and focused on your new relationship. He wooed you endlessly with dates to lavish dinners and dawning you in lovely gowns. It was all so much more than you had ever expected in life. He’d tell you you deserved it and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you two would get so lost in one another.

A bit shamefully, hypnotized by the romantics of it all, you gave yourself to him. Tangled in the sheets with him as your guide, you let the man you felt you would marry have every last bit of you.

And for a while after, it was blissful. Nothing had seemed to change between you two until he announced he had to go away for a bit. Confused, you asked why suddenly now facing the fact you were losing another person in your life. He explained he was needed by his father on a different realm, part of the family "business," as he described it.

Days after his departure, you learned you were pregnant. Around this time, Loki popped back up in your life. You felt relieved having someone to confide in but when you told him of your pregnancy, he was far from the supportive force you thought you’d get. He didn’t yell or get upset per se but he was beyond stunned.  

He left for a bit then but can back in less time than last. This time he brought along baby supplies and congratulated you. It was a complete one-eighty from his prior behavior but you accepted it, gratefully. Loki ended up being your main person throughout the pregnancy as clues of when your boyfriend would return were nonexistent.

"Did he know you were carrying his child when he left?" Loki had asked you one night. You two were sitting in the living room of the makeshift house you had acquired. You didn’t feel very good that this was the home you were bringing a child into when you knew her father could’ve provided her with a better one. But, at the end of the day, it was a roof over both your heads.

You crocheted another knot in the baby blanket. "No, he didn’t. I didn’t even know."

Loki gave a passing hum at that answer. He didn’t ask about your boyfriend very much after that.

Once your baby girl arrived, she became your entire world, your entire focus. Between caring for her and working to provide, you had little time to worry about your boyfriend still being gone. But it wasn’t as lonely as it may have looked because Loki was always by your side. Working around his royal duties, he’d take time to come visit you and your daughter even sometimes staying for dinner or to play with her. You didn’t miss how he was unintentionally becoming the father she was missing. You never said anything, though, always biting your tongue as you waited for her father to return.

Hope began to face on that front after your daughter turned three. Maybe he was just a footnote in your life, a foolish hopeful dream, but at least he had given you the lovely gift of your child. You weren’t giving up, still placing him in the boyfriend spot of your mind, but you couldn’t deny doubt crept in. Maybe a relationship of any capacity just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Or so you thought.

As Loki continued with his royal responsibilities, he was growing older and more powerful. That’s when the rumors of marriage began floating about. Your mother had brought it up to you once asking if you met any of his potential suitors. Your stomach did a somersault. You didn’t even know there were suitors, let alone met any of them. You tried to keep your cool and just told her no.

Who these suitors were and if they really existed, you never found out. You never even had the guts to ask about them especially after Loki pulled you aside one night after a dinner at the palace.

He rarely ever invited you to dinners with his family so to get this spontaneous invitation, you didn’t hesitate to attend. He even allowed you to bring along your daughter. She was playing with some servants’ children when Loki asked you to the garden.

"Feeling like a nighttime stroll?" You asked with a little laugh. Loki just smiled.

"There’s actually something I want to speak to you about."

"Oh," you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, yes, everything is fine." He looked up at the sky, almost lost in thought as you walked. You thought for a split second how lovely he looked. "I’m sure you have heard by now the…talk about my anticipated engagement."

Your heart practically stopped beating at that moment. Your hands instinctively gripped at the skirt of your dress as if you were ready to run away at the drop of a hat. Trying to keep your voice stead, you said, "Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that to me the other day."

He shot you an unreadable side glance. Your hands gripped the fabric tighter. Why were you feeling like this? Was that…jealousy you felt? You didn’t understand where that had come from. This was your best friend. Your prince best friend. He was bound to get married and have a lavish life with his bride. You couldn’t stop that, you couldn’t change it.

"Do you know anything of the women I have been offered?"

Was this another one of his cruel jokes? You wanted to vomit all over the bushes of flowers passing you as you walked. You managed to shake your head in response. "I’m sure they’re all wonderful."

He scoffed. "More like they’re all incredibly boring."

You gasped, "Loki, I’m not sure you should be speaking that way of them."

"It’s doesn’t matter," he shrugged, "because none of them are what I want."

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to know what he was seeking. You looked at him wearily.

You two walked in silence for a moment. Loki was now watching the ground intensely. You couldn’t believe how much his gaze was wandering. It must’ve been for courage because the next words out of his mouth were ones you had never thought you’d ever hear. From anyone.

"I believe you could be what I want," he said. He spoke your name so softly. "I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage."

You stopped walking, your legs suddenly unable to move. Your eyes grew wide as complete shock raced over you. You didn’t know what to do, too scared to speak because you didn’t know what was going to come out. Your first thought was that this was one of his magic tricks. Maybe he wasn’t even here, just a clone of him as he wished to make a fool of you. It wouldn’t be the first time but he had never been so cruel.

"You’re not saying anything," Loki noted. He had stopped a few feet ahead of you, completely taken off guard by your halt.

"I-I don’t understand." The words felt so heavy forcing their way out of your mouth.

"I don’t believe I stuttered, dear."

Your jaw dropped, surprised it hadn’t hit the floor already. He was seriously asking this. Loki, a literal prince, and your best friend, was asking for your hand in marriage. But — But you just didn’t know why. Why would he ask such a thing? Not only were you an unwed mother, he knew very well about your boyfriend. It was almost insulting he’d think you’d give up just because business or whatever it was was taking a while. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what this could all mean for your daughter.

"Loki… I… I don’t know. This seems crazy—,"

"Crazy?" His expression turned dark. You suddenly regretted the word despite it holding true. "What is so crazy about me wanting to take your hand? I thought this could be good. You and your daughter would have everything you’d ever want. You’d be a princess for crying out loud!"

You flinched at his anger. You had never seen him so enraged before. It made your whole body stiffen.

"I see. This… This is very generous of you but my boyfriend…"

Loki chuckled but there wasn’t any humor found within it. "Of course. The nobleman." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me again, dear, how long has it been? Do you really think he’s going to just show back up one day?"

"Of course," you nodded. "He told me—,"

"He’s not coming back."

You began shaking your head, growing more and more upset as the seconds passed. "You don’t know that."

Loki sighed, defeatedly. "I do know that, dear." A heavy pause. "I know that because I’m the one that sent him away."

You were certain in that moment your heart had stopped. Everything had stopped. You could barely tell anymore how you got from point A to point B.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I’ve had my eye on you for a long time," he explained. He was standing so tall making you feel minuscule. "I always thought you could be just right for me but then that nobleman waltzed into your life. Granted, he wasn’t me. He couldn’t give you what I could but he tried his best." Loki shrugged. "I had no choice, really. He threatened everything. He derailed my plan but it’s alright. I think after tonight it’ll be back on track, correct?"

You held your hands up in defense, practically begging Loki to slow down. Your head was spinning. "You sent away the father of my child?"

Loki sighed, sounding actually regretful. "Truly, that wasn’t ever my intention. I didn’t know he was going to do that."

"And you think since you forced him out of the picture, you can swoop in and ask for my hand in marriage? We never had a courtship! Are you even hearing yourself?"

"I’m a prince, darling." He sounded so casual. "We do not court like the rest of you."

Gosh, you felt like you were going to vomit. Your hands fell to your stomach as you tried to calm yourself. You had never heard Loki separate you two so clearly before. Like he had drawn a line, definitively.

Your words tasted like venom as you forced yourself to speak. "Can I at least think about it?"

"I’m afraid not. They’d like an answer tonight."

Tonight. That was what this dinner had been for. You weren’t invited just out of the kindness of his heart. You had been attending your own engagement party.

"Loki, this… I— This is insane. You’re— You’re insane—,"

"Am I, really?" He pressed, taking a few steps closer. You trembled under a darkened gaze you had never seen before on him. "I’m not sure that’s how you should be speaking to the man trying to offer you a bit of… stability."

"Stability?" You repeated. "You think that’s all that I want?"

"Would this not grant your daughter a better life? The little shop of yours is only getting you two so far, dear."

The shock had worn off as you were now being filled with rage. "Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this anymore," you gritted. "Of course, I want nothing but the best for her but I also deserve someone who will truly love me. You’re — You’re just asking to fulfill some royal commitment and trying to pass it off like this is some big, grand gesture to help me."

Loki looked a bit taken back by your words. Even you were a bit surprised by yourself. You didn’t know where this fight was coming from within you. Probably from the depths of motherhood, if you had to guess. But it felt good in a way.

After a heavy moment, Loki asked, "Was I so wrong to assume this proposal could actually help us both?"

That was the real kicker of it all, you thought. This actually could help you both.

"I want to marry someone who loves me."

Loki seemed to debate around the idea mentally. "I’m certain that within time something could bloom. I’m not a psychopath, darling." He smirked. "But I truly can’t believe you’d give this up all for the minuscule chance at love, the hopeless thing that got you where you are today."

You gasped. "I would’ve had true love if you hadn’t banished him away!"

Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You are so adorable, you know that?" You flinched as he got close enough now to place a hand on your damp cheek. You were practically forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. "That man was nothing but a spoiled brat and I refuse to believe you actually fell for his game."

You felt yourself crumbling down again. Way beneath him. "He… He was really…"

"Don’t you dare try to defend him, do you hear me?" Loki spat. That darkness was washing over but this time it felt like a storm you couldn’t escape. "I will not have my bride speak such niceties about another man."

"Your bride—,"

"While I’ve enjoyed this little midnight confessional, we have some good news to share with everyone, don’t we?"

You didn’t know what to do. What to think anymore. He wasn’t letting up. You were trapped. It was like the prison gate had shut behind you. You were stone-cold now, completely under his control. You were giving up in complete defeat. You could scream until you were blue in the face but you were running in circles. At least your daughter would know a home.

"Yes."

Loki’s face lit up. He removed his hands from you. "Fantastic," he said, heading back towards the palace. You helplessly followed beside him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "Happy engagement, dear."

[kim-poce]

Bloodbag Neo and Celeste

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24

(CW: pet whump, multiple whumpees, female conditioned vampire whumpee, broken bones, fear of punishment, implied past non-con)

Alex made a timely reappearance, saving Tobias from having to figure out how to explain the intricacies of human pet dealing. The vampire made sure to ask the boy if he would prefer to leave, once again showing that strange level of care towards a human bloodbag.

Alex looked over Tobias's broken arms critically. “I’ll get started, but I don’t have much experience with this. So you’ll need to explain if I do something wrong,” he said as he set the first aid kit down on the table.

Tobias nodded. Made sense; vampires don't exactly need the same kind of care humans do.

“I’m sure Evelyn’s venom is wearing out, right? It isn’t like she would give you enough for a long time anyway, so maybe I should give you some before-”

“M-master,” the kid interrupted, voice worried but stern.

Alex turned to look at him.

“Y-you- you not- you know,” the kid said, losing his nerve and looking down again.

Alex sighed but agreed that using his venom wasn't a good idea. He opened the kit and started pulling out items, giving Tobias an expectant look.

Tobias tucked the interaction away in the back of his brain for later examination, and started giving instructions on how to set his broken bones. Unlike the vampires, he did have experience with this, unfortunately.

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

Ma'am Evelyn used the various cushions and pillows from the room to make what might be the most elaborate pillow fort the vampire had ever seen. She even added a blanket on top as a sort of roof, making the whole structure enclosed. When she finished, she stepped back and gave the fort an approving look.

"I'll put you there now," she said as she picked it up from the chair she had set it on, now the only piece of furniture still in possession of its cushions and pillows. "Like this, try to get as comfortable as you can, okay?" she asked.

Her voice was sweet. The vampire couldn't help but think that it was almost too sweet, like honey added to hide the taste of poison. Either way, she was giving it luxuries beyond what it could possibly have hoped for, so it would just try to enjoy them while it could.

Next

Crossovers - Masterlist

CW: mild (?) disassociation.

=-=

Alex was never an exemplar vampire, much less an exemplar Fortery. He smile bitterly at himself while Tobias gave the instructions; Alex Fortery is obeying a human while carefully treating his wounds instead of hunting as a proper vampire should do.

"I hope words of this never met mother's ears," he said to himself, not even realizing their words were spoken out loud. If she were to see... He shook his head at the thought, trying to quiet his now slightly shivering hands, she can't find out, not even Evelyn would be able to stop her if she knew he was listening to a human.

Alex blinked a few times and focused on the task at hand, following the instructions given between hisses of pain. At some point his mind was wandering off, his body was still there, following the given words, moving as someone expect him to, but his mind was elsewhere.

Even when he finished the task he was still there, holding the remaining bandages and waiting for the next word, which didn't came if he wasn't so out of it he would think that Tobias wouldn't dare to order him around past the –requested– instructions.

Alex flinched back when his cellphone rang, he turned his head to the source of the sound, picking it up immediately after reading the name on the screen.

"Evelyn," he said, blinking several times in an attempt to ground himself to reality, "No, not busy..."

=-=

Evelyn had left the girl and was nowthinking about her next steps, there was no pre-taken drugged blood anywhere so she would need to take a human –or several since she doesn't have a reason to kill them for such an avoidable thing– drug them and take the blood.

She could take any human in the nearest town, they don't fight back there, not when they are only allowed this close if they give their blood away. They also won't have a say if they accept to be drugged or not.

Evelyn paused at the thought of going to the town; a place full of humans, full of human blood and smell. She can barely hold herself back with two humans around. Maybe I'll need to drink something before I go.

The issue was: no human blood around. Well, there was the blood inside both the hunter (who would die if she feed on him) and the blood bag (who would freak out a lot) but they were no options.

She tsked her tongue and picked up her phone to call her brother.

"Evenly," he said after picking up.

"Are you busy right now? Did you find something?" She asked, knowing that he would drop whatever he was doing if he were.

"No, not busy, and yes, we know where to go, just waiting for the word."

"Okay, do whatever you need about it, but before you go, bring me some blood."

Alex paused at the instructions, not sure if he heard it right, "Blood? You want me to get you blood?"

"That's what I said, you have blood on stock and I want it."

"Is it for the girl?"

"No."

"So you are saying that you want to drink the blood I drink? that blood? You from all people want to drink this blood?"

"Alex, didn't you make me repeat myself enough already?" Evelyn asked menacingly.

"Yes, yes, sorry, I'll take it. I'll be there in a bit."

=-=

Taglist: @neverthelass, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @rose-pinkie

[dakotacrisis]

Adrien’s Sick Day

(This dumb idea would not let me sleep. Adrien gets sick but refuses to miss school so chugs a bottle of Nyquil but starts crashing when he gets to school. Shoots back an energy drink to keep awake. Disassociates so hard he comes to with a new fencing trophy and a girlfriend.)

---

Adrien was sick. He never got sick easy but he was sicker than a dog today. His temperature was through the roof and the only medicine in the house was a bottle of Nyquil.

“Sounds like an easy day in.” Plagg said. “Chug it down and let’s get back to bed.”

Adrien shook his head. “I wanna go to school.”

“School?” Plagg rested on top of his head, “Kid, do you really want to attempt class today?”

“I have already missed normal human interaction for the first fifteen years of my life. I am not missing another day!” Adrien chugged down the Nyquil. “Let’s go!”

Despite Plagg’s protests to stay inside Adrien collected his bag and headed to school. He was doing well up until he stepped inside and the medicine really started kicking in. Right...the medicine wasn’t the non-drowsy kind.

“Hey dude,” Nino clapped him on the back to which Adrien almost fell face first into floor. “Dang, what’s wrong with you?”

“Fever. Medicine. Sleepy. Not missing class.” Adrien rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Got any coffee?”

“I have this.” Nino pulled out an energy drink from his bag. “You can have it if you really want it but I think you should just go home.”

“No, I’m fine. Hand it over.” Adrien took the drink and walked with Nino into class.

In the blink of an eye Adrien was no longer in class but back home in his room holding a half empty cup of boba. “What the...” Adrien looked around. “How did I...”

The sun was further down in the sky so it must be later. Oh god, where did he put his phone? On his desk was a new fencing trophy he didn’t remember earning. Hanging off the trophy’s miniature epee was the lucky charm Marinette had lent him.

This was strange. He checked the clock on his computer and was surprised to see that it was five in the evening. What had happened all day? He couldn’t remember a thing.

The sound of his phone ringing with a notification caught his attention. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled it out. The background on his phone had changed too. Instead of the picture of him and Nino it was him in his fencing uniform holding a trophy in one hand and his other arm wrapped around Marinette who was kissing his cheek.

Okay. What the heck happened today?

He went to his contacts and hit Nino’s number. Hopefully he could shed some light on this situation.

“Hey bro, what’s up?” Nino shouted over the roar of a crowd in the background, “You change your mind and want to come out to the party?”

“Party?” Adrien asked. “What party?”

“Well I guess it is turning more into a festival. I know Marinette said you should go home and rest but you sound a lot better. We’re currently out under the Eiffel Tower if you wanna stop by.”

“What festival? What’s going on?” Adrien couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying. He was fairly certain there wasn’t any parties or holidays today.

“Sorry dude, I can’t hear you.” Nino shouted over the noise, “Eiffel Tower! Come out! Have some fun!”

He hung up and Adrien was back at square one but with even more questions. Maybe there were some clues in his phone. He checked his pictures and saw that there were more pictures he had taken today. The picture he had set as his background was there. There was a group shot with the guys who held Adrien up on their shoulders. Those were taken around four.

Adrien checked his calendar and saw that he did have a fencing tournament today at three. So that’s where he must have been for that hour. And he ended up placing first while zonked out on cold medicine. Adrien wasn’t sure what to make of that. Either his opponents weren’t that great or he is just an amazing fencer when he’s blacked out. Neither sat right with him.

That’s still leaves the seven hours from school and the hour between when he won the tournament and when he got home. Wait! Plagg! Plagg was by his side the entire time! He’d know!

“Plagg!” Adrien called, “Plagg! Where are you?”

“Ugh, you said I could relax.” Plagg’s voice came from the cheese cabinet. Adrien opened it and saw Plagg nesting atop a large wheel of camembert. “Haven’t we done enough today?”

“Plagg, I don’t remember what happened today. You have to fill me in.”

“Seriously?” PLagg laughed, “You don’t remember a thing?”

“No! And it’s creeping me out!” Adrien pulled him out of the cabinet. “Please tell me what I did.”

“Well I don’t really know.”

“How do you not know? You hide in my bag all day!”

“I sleep in your bag all day. I only woke up for the akuma.”

“Akuma? When was there an akuma?”

“A bunch of akumas. We had another Scarlet Akuma pandemic going on before you ran off to go fencing. You and Ladybug were really struggling for a while there until your doppelgangers showed up. Something happened after the akumas got purified but I was tired and bored at that point and stopped paying attention.”

“No! Plagg, I need to know what happened! And what do you mean by doppelgangers?”

“Oh right, bunny girl brought future you and Ladybug back in time to help with the akumas.”

“My future self! Future Ladybug?!” Adrien was going to throw himself off a building. He had completely missed meeting his future self and seeing what Ladybug looked like grown up. She could have only gotten more beautiful.

“Yeah, it was trippy.” Plagg said. “That’s all I remember though. After you transformed back you had to go to fencing and I stayed in your locker resting.”

“So you don’t know anything else? Not even about this?” Adrien showed him the picture of Marinette kissing him.

“Awe, finally got that girlfriend of yours I see. But no. No idea.”

“You’re awfully helpful.” Adrien sighed. He needed answers. He wasn’t gonna be able to focus until he filled in the blanks from today. He got online and started combing through the footage from the akuma attack. Plagg wasn’t kidding. This was the most akumas Adrien had ever seen. It looked as if half of Paris had been infected.

Him, Ladybug, and some of the other heroes were fighting against them but losing ground fast. A shining portal opened up and...holy crap. It really was his future self walking alongside a grown up Ladybug. Bunnix also joined them. The footage sped by as the heroes, future and present fought side by side. Adrien had always thought that he and Ladybug were a well oiled machine but seeing their future counterparts fight made them look like fish flopping on a deck. It was as if they were thinking about each other’s moves five steps ahead.

There was an eruption of white butterflies as the akumas were purified. The people cheered. Future Chat grabbed Future Ladybug and spun her in the air in victory. And then...oh…present Ladybug grabbed present Chat and kissed him. Seriously?! Another kiss he couldn’t remember!

“PLAGG!” Adrien shouted, “YOU SAID NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED!”

“Nothing did!” Plagg shouted back.

“LADYBUG KISSED ME! THAT’S NOT NOTHING TO ME!”

“How is this any different then the other times she kissed you and you forgot?”

“Y’know what--!”

“Can’t hear you. Napping.” Plagg started snoring loudly.

Adrien sighed. He turned his attention back to the screen.

There was only more cheering as the two kissed. Wait. So he kissed Ladybug and Ladybug kissed him back and they both remember so why had Marinette been kissing him in his fencing picture? Once again, more questions.

The future miraculous holders went back through the portal. His present self and Ladybug waved to the crowd then vaulted out of frame. According to the akuma report online that was from 12:40 to 2:55. Another two hours accounted for. Yet it was the minutes in between that seemed to hold all the answers.

Adrien grabbed his school bag and dumped it out looking for more answers. There had to be something else. All of it looked pretty normal. Books, homework assignments, a couple empty containers of camembert, and a few loose papers. He picked up one and saw it was an excerpt of a script. A Midsummer Night’s Dream? What was this doing in his bag? They were supposed to start their Shakespeare period in literature class so it wasn’t so out of place.

The assignment was to recreate a scene from one of Shakespeare’s plays. At the top of the page was Adrien’s name as well as Marinette’s. He guessed they must have gotten partnered up. Maybe he should try calling her to figure out what was going on.

He picked up his phone and searched for Marinette’s contact, her name in his phone had been changed to Girlfriend with a bunch of sparkly hearts around it. So apparently she was his girlfriend now, according to his phone at least. He called her but the call went to voicemail. Okay, maybe Alya knows. He called her next and was relieved when she answered.

“Hey lover boy!” Alya was shouting over the same crowd as Nino had been, “Nino said you called. Feeling better already?”

“Alya, you have to tell me what I did today.”

“What?”

“What did I do while I was at school? I can’t remember.”

“How do you not remember?”

“I was zonked out on cold medicine! I don’t even know how I got home let alone how I won a fencing trophy and got a girlfriend in the past few hours.”

“Wow. Just...wow. I knew you were kinda loopy today but I figured you’d remember confessing to Marinette. Girl was over the moon.”

The memories tickled right in the back of Adrien’s brain but he just couldn’t get to them. They had been washed away in a tidal wave of medicine and energy drink. He needed answers. He needed to talk to Marinette. “Are you all still by the Eiffel Tower?” Adrien asked.

“Yeah, you coming out?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a few.” Adrien hung up and grabbed his coat. He felt much better physically than he had that morning which was nice. The walk to the Eiffel Tower gave him plenty of time to think about what it was he was missing. There was a significant piece of the puzzle missing, the one piece that would make the rest of the day make sense. If only he could figure out what it was!

He found his friends and everyone cheered when they saw him and pulled him into their circle. Standing with Alya was Marinette. Face alight with a smile and laughing. She turned when she felt Adrien’s eyes on her and her smile grew.

“Hey, I thought I told you to go home and rest. Or was it that you didn’t want to miss out on all the fun?” She grabbed his hands, “I suppose I’ll let it go this time seeing as how today was very taxing and we could do with some fun after that Scarlet Moth fiasco.”

“Yeah, about that,” Adrien said, “Can we talk somewhere a little quieter?”

“Sure,” She pulled on his hands as she led him away from the group. Their classmates whistled and teased as the couple left. When they were far enough away from the noise and people Marinette spoke to him, “What is it you want to talk about?”

“Right um…” Adrien felt heat climbing up his neck, “So I was kinda really sick this morning and I took a bunch of drowsy cold-medicine that I tried to counteract with an energy drink and now I don’t remember anything that happened today. Nothing whatsoever.”

Marinette stared at him, her wide, unblinking baby blue eyes piercing through his skull. “Are you joking?”

“No. I swear I am not. I’ve put together some of what happened but there are some things that I don’t understand like how um, you know, how you and I…” He looked down at his feet, mortified that he had to have this conversation with her. He felt like he was breaking her heart or something.

“You dumb kitty.” Marinette bonked the top of his head, “That explains a lot actually. I’ve always known you to be kinda spacey but today was something else. How is it that when you’re out of it you can still function as a human being?”

“Marinette?” Adrien looked up at her, “What did you call me?”

Marinette sighed and motioned for him to sit down on the bench. “Alright, so this morning when class started…”

*Earlier that day*

“Did that help at all?” Nino asked Adrien as they sat down for class.

“I guess we’ll see,” Adrien almost missed his seat when he went to sit down, “So far it is a rousing success!”

“I really think you should just go home, dude.” Nino shook his head. “I think the caffeine just made this worse.”

“Nah!” Adrien corrected himself and slid himself into his seat, “I am fine! Look how fine I am! I am super fine!”

“Sure are.” Nino snickered, he couldn’t help it. His best friend was essentially high as a kite right now.

Everyone took their seats as Ms. Bustier began the lesson. “For this unit we will be focusing on William Shakespeare. I figured we’d start off with something fun so I want everyone to get into pairs or small groups and perform a scene from any Shakespeare play you would like. Group up and figure out what you’re performing in class today. Go over your lines and we’ll do the actual performances tomorrow. Try not to do really long ones. Have fun!”

Immediately everyone around the room started pairing off. “Hey Adrien,” Alya grabbed his attention, “How’s about you and Marinette team up? You would make a wonderful Romeo and Juliet.”

“But I wanted us to do Romeo and Juliet, babe.” Nino pouted.

“That’s fine, Alya. You two can have Romeo and Juliet.” Marinette told her, her face tinted a cute pink. “Adrien and I can do something else.”

“Hernia!” Adrien shouted, “You can be Hernia and I’ll be Lightsaber!”

“What?” The other three teenagers stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, that play, the one with the donkey head?” Adrien mimicked large donkey ears on his head.

“Oh! I got it!” Marinette said, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You want us to be Hermia and Lysander.”

“Yeah! Those two!” Adrien nodded, “Hernia and Lightsaber.”

“Adrien, sweetie,” Alya looked at him with an amused smile, “Their names are Hermia and Lysander. Not Hernia and Lightsaber.”

“Got it. Got it.” Adrien continued nodding so hard he looked like a bobblehead. “We can be them.”

“Alright, I’ll find us a scene to do.” Marinette started looking for a good scene. They eventually agreed to do the opening scene when Hermia and Lysander plan to runaway together. Marinette was being super giggly through the reading which made Adrien start laughing which made her giggle more until they were in a perpetual loop of laughter.

When class ended everyone got up to move onto the next class. Nino and Alya went on ahead leaving Marinette and Adrien alone still chuckling over their inability to be serious during their scene.

“It may be the fact that I was laughing through the whole thing but I have to confess that I have no idea what Lysander was saying.” Adrien squinted at the text before shoving it in his bag. “Did you?”

“It’s pretty simple actually,” Marinette said, “The couple are lamenting that none of Hermia’s choices that she was given from Theseus let her be with Lysander. Lysander though figures that they don’t have to follow their rules and talks Hermia into leaving Athens with him and getting married where the Athenian laws don’t apply.”

“I wish I could do that.” Adrien sighed.

“Do what?”

“Runaway with the love of my life. I have this whole plan with an island and a hamster but I know you’d never go with me.” He slumped, looking utterly defeated. “Why don’t you wanna go with me?”

“Love--love--love--love of your what? Runaway? Me and you? To an island? With hamsters!” Marinette was stammering as she tried to piece together what it was Adrien had just confessed to her. Was this really happening?

“Oh wait,” Adrien frowned, “I meant my lady.”

“Huh?”

“Ladybug is so pretty…” Adrien murmured dreamily, “She’s so awesome but she only sees me as a tomcat which--just--boo! I love her! Why doesn’t she see that?  My spotty lady! Buggy boo! I love her spots and her eyes and her pigtails…”

His green eyes turned to Marinette and batted a hand against Marinette’s hair. “Just like your pigtails.” He muttered, “You remind me a lot of Ladybug. You can be my Maribug!”

Tomcat? In love with Ladybug? No...there was no way. Surely someone like Adrien couldn’t also be her dorky partner in crime fighting.

“Hey Adrien,” Marinette smiled nervously, “Why do you think that Ladybug thinks you’re a tomcat?”

“Because I am a cat!” He stated proudly. Then his expression soured. “Or as Ladybug says, I’m a bad kitty that needs to stop flirting with her cause they’re working and she likes someone else. It’s sad that she likes someone else. I wish she could like me…”

Yep. Definitely Chat Noir. Although Marinette had never called him a bad kitty before. Chastised him for flirting an inappropriate moments? Yes. But she never berated him. She’d have to have a talk to him later as Ladybug.

WAIT! Chat Noir is Adrien! Adrien is Chat Noir! The love of her life is also her partner! Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy! Crap! Calm down, Marinette! More important things to focus on right now!

She looked over at Adrien who was still pouting like a sad little kitten. She put an arm around his shoulders. “Well I got some good news for you, kitty. I know who Ladybug is really in love with.”

“Really?!” Adrien looked at her with stars in her eyes, “Who? I’m gonna whoop their butt if they mistreat her!”

“Ladybug has a crush on Adrien Agreste.”

“Boo! He sucks!”

“Dummy, Adrien is you. Ladybug likes you.”

“Oh...SHE DOES?!” He nearly screamed and Marinette clamped a hand over his mouth. He moved his head away from her, gaping at the information. “How do you know that?”

“Because that’s who I have a crush on.” Marinette’s cheeks felt entirely too warm. When she looked at Adrien there was absolutely nothing going on behind those big green eyes of his.

“Adrien?” She waved a hand in front of his face? “Goodness, you silly kitty, you are really out of it, huh? Give it a moment. It’ll come to you.”

Marinette started counting in her head. She got to one hundred and seventeen before Adrien finally perked up like a meerkat. “Ladybug?!” He pointed at her.

“There it is.” She ruffled his hair, “I’m guessing you’re happy?”

“I--I--”

BANG!

*Present*

“Then that’s when Scarlet Moth and all the other akumas hit and we went to got fight them. Our future selves showed up to help kick some butt. We kissed. Then we went back to school so you could get to your fencing tournament. You won. You looked pretty tired so I walked you home after but you insisted we stop for boba first so we kinda went on an impromptu boba date. Got you home then I came out to celebrate with everyone about today’s akuma win.” Marinette finished, “Did that fill you in well enough?”

“So you are…”

“Yep.”

“And you like me?”

“Also yep.”

“And I somehow managed to do all this while disassociating to the point of amnesia?”

“Apparently so.”

“I am never mixing Nyquil and Red Bull again.”

“Turned out okay in the end though, right?” Marinette flashed him a bright smile.

As all the information settled within him Adrien smiled back and kissed her. She squeaked for a second not expecting it but eagerly kissed him back. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She giggled. She stood up and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, kitty, let’s go have some fun.”

*The next day*

“Hey bugaboo,” Adrien entered her room holding a hot cup of tea, “Sorry for getting you sick. Probably wasn’t a good idea to have kissed you so many times while I had a cold.”

Marinette blew her nose. “Worth it.”

[synthient]

Okay lol I’m never gonna write this out in story form, so here’s a rough outline of the Failed Takeover AU:

- As in canon, Seto tries to take over Kaibacorp on his 15th birthday, via a plan that involves making everyone (including Mokuba) think he hates Mokuba.

- In a divergence from canon, the plan falls apart.

- Mokuba doesn’t burst into the conference room just in time to offer Seto his shares. Maybe he was too busy having a “I’m 9 and I guess my brother-parent hates me now” breakdown; maybe he assumed that Seto was infallible and wouldn’t need his help anyway; maybe one of Gozaburo’s followers gave him the wrong date/time/location for the meeting; maybe some combo of all of the above.

- As it turns out, hinging your entire plan on someone you didn’t explain the plan to (and went out of your way to alienate) is not, perhaps, the best idea!

- Gozaburo is like “Okay, great, this solves my ‘would stealing a child’s body or leaving my own child in an eternal virtual purgatory make me more profit?’ dilemma. Let’s lock the kid in his room while I get the brain upload ready.”

- Seto may not know about Noah and the Virtual World, but he knows that Gozaburo’s about to make his life a living hell. And he’s internalized his lessons better than Gozaburo intended.

- He knows what a loser deserves.

- Gozaburo’s henchmen don’t break down the door fast enough to stop Seto from attempting  suicide, but they do manage to rush him to a doctor fast enough to save his life. Gozaburo is furious (how dare this brat damage his property), and has Seto forcibly hospitalized until his body has recovered enough for the upload.

- Mokuba is barred from visiting Seto during the recovery period. He’s terrified, guilt-ridden, convinced this is all his fault. And Seto wouldn’t…he couldn’t…Gozaburo has to be lying about the suicide attempt! It’s all a fake cover up for something horrible that must be going on! (he’s half right)

- As soon as Seto heals, he gets shunted into the Virtual World and Noah takes his place. Gozaburo would prefer to delete Seto’s file, tie up the loose end. But Noah insists on keeping him around–“He took everything from me. Now I want to take everything from him, and I want him to watch.”

- That includes, of course, the thing that mattered most to Seto–his little brother (another loose end that Gozaburo would rather have quietly disposed of). Noah tries to pass himself off as a Seto who’s recovered, learned his lesson, is appropriately contrite about being so ungrateful and causing so much trouble for the man who pulled him out of the gutter, and is ready to spend some quality time with Mokie!

- It’s not convincing. At all. But Mokuba plays along while he tries to figure out what’s really going on (Is Seto mad at him and being passive aggressive? Is he faking cheerfulness because he’s being watched? Has he been threatened? Brainwashed? Stepford Wive’d?)

- Eventually, Mokuba overhears some conversation between Gozaburo and Noah that reveals the truth. Horrified and filled with even more crushing guilt, he flees the Kaiba manor with his life, but isn’t able to take Seto’s consciousness with him. He vows to find a way to save his brother.

- After spending some time living on the streets, dodging Gozaburo’s search efforts, and [hacker voice I’m in]-ing for intel, Mokuba starts to hear whispers about some kind of teen vigilante. They say he’s been going around Domino, punishing wrongdoers with a magic necklace. And Mokuba knows some wrongdoers who need punishing…

- Mokuba tries and fails to steal the Puzzle. It goes about like the Capumon Chess chapter.

- Meanwhile: one Maximillian Pegasus has been hearing the most intriguing rumors that the CEO of Kaibacorp has found a way to resurrect his son. Pegasus starts looking into ways to take over Kaibacorp and get his hands on the Virtual World tech.

- Mokuba finds out about the new takeover plan (by [hacker voice I’m in]-ing I2) and contacts Pegasus. He offers insider info on Kaibacorp…for a price.

- Mokuba is flown out to Duelist Kingdom to meet with Pegasus. He explains that Gozaburo had a scan of Noah’s brain made before he died, and without a brain scan, the process won’t work (when he finds out about Cynthia, Mokuba genuinely feels sorry for Pegasus. He knows what it’s like to lose someone you love).

- Pegasus muses that if he gathered all seven Millennium Items, he could open the door to the afterlife, and he might be able to scan Cynthia’s mind/soul that way. Mokuba is like “Huh. Now that you mention it, I think I’ve met someone with a Millennium Item >:3”

- The Duelist Kingdom tournament happens. Mokuba becomes one of Pegasus’s Eliminators, under the agreement that once Pegasus takes over Kaibacorp, he’ll save Seto and use the Eye to give Gozaburo a penalty game.

- Mokuba challenges Yugi and Atem to a rematch. At some point during the duel, they mention fighting “for Grandpa’s sake,” and Mokuba’s like “…wait, what?”

- It turns out Pegasus never mentioned the whole soul-stealing/blackmail part of the plan to Mokuba. Mokuba feels betrayed and has a crisis of loyalty. Taking someone’s mind from their body…it hits too close to home.

- The Friendship Gang invites Mokuba to spend the night with them by the campfire. Mokuba explains why he keeps challenging Yugi, and what happened to Seto. He offers to help Yugi get his grandpa back, and Yugi promises that they’ll do whatever they can to help his brother once everything’s over.

- Mokuba helps them make their way to Pegasus, but soon as Pegasus finds out Mokuba has turned on him, he steals Mokuba’s soul. Yugi duels to save both him and grandpa.

- Then Bakura yoinks the Eye out of Pegasus’s socket. The good news: without the Eye’s influence, Pegasus feels bad about everything and wants to help Mokuba to make up for it. The bad news: without the Eye, he can’t take out Gozaburo with shadow magic.

- Atem has been feeling guilty about his s0 antics, and he was planning to give up shadow games for good, but Mokuba begs him to do just one more. The gang starts figuring out how they’re going to go about storming Kaibacorp.

- In the meantime, Yugi invites Mokuba to stay with him and Grandpa. They set up an air mattress in the game shop basement (it’s the first time Mokuba has had a stable roof over his head in months, and the first time he’s had a real, competent, well-meaning adult looking after him in…a long time).

- After a couple weeks of planning, they put their Ocean’s 11 rescue scheme into action: Pegasus remotely takes out the security tech; Atem sneaks off to Let’s Play A Game =) with Gozaburo; the rest of the friendship gang kidnaps Noah-in-Seto’s-body and drags him to the Virtual World port; and Mokuba goes into the Virtual World to find Seto and swap his consciousness with Noah’s.

- The big Kaibro reunion has finally arrived. Mokuba bursts in and goes “Seto! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but everything’s gonna be okay, we’re getting you out of here, let’s hurry, c’mon—” And Seto stares at him in dead-eyed silence before going “…you’re not real, are you.”

- How has Seto spent the last year or so?

Disassociating

Falling into an abyss of guilt (this was my stupid plan. this is all my fault. what happened to Mokuba? did I get him killed? did he die thinking I hated him?)

“I lost I’m weak I’m a failure why am I still here” spiraling

Contemplating his loss of autonomy (both in terms of literally losing his body, and in terms of his suicide attempt and the ensuing fallout/forced hospitalization)

Getting periodically tormented by Noah

Disassociating some more

- So while the plan works—the consciousnesses are successfully swapped, Atem wins his shadow game, Kaibacorp falls apart with its CEO in a permanent coma & Pegasus swoops in to buy out the pieces (which comes with a free Noah save file. Pegasus: “Hm. Guess I’ve adopted this undead 10-year-old bastard tamagotchi.”)—Seto is…obviously not in a good mental place. He’s pretty much gone into a total shutdown. (It takes a while for him to believe the rescue was even real, and Noah isn’t still playing games with him in the Virtual World)

- Grandpa tells Mokuba, “Of course you and your brother are welcome to stay for as long as you need.”

And everything else I imagined was just...recovery/hurt-comfort vignettes, with some Butterfly Effect versions of Battle City/Doma/Memory World thrown in  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[papipopsicle]

DOUBLE DARE

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Harrington!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: In which Billy isn't 'King Billy fucking Hargrove' after the events at the Byers house, he's remorseful and in so much more pain than anyone ever seems to notice.

Song: Dizzy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing, symptoms of PTSD

Words: 2.8K

feedback is always appreciated

Hawkins wasn't the kind of place a teen could take angsty strolls, look up at the sky for a while and all their life problems would be solved. Winter lasted until February, and summer started at the end of July, the months between left void of the joy of sun or snow. It was within this time that Y/N and Billy found solace in each other's chaotic existences.

They'd met a couple times before their relationship had a label, once not knowing each other, and the next, knowing too much.

The first was in the bitter winds of a November night. Y/N Harrington was forced to transfer to Hawkins High after fighting with another girl at Lakewood Academy over something nobody knew. She wasn't happy about it, after working her arse off for the last seventeen years of her life, only for the dream to be someone special and someone her parents would be proud of, to be ripped away from her.

Steve never made it any better, it was fine when he'd bring home random girls while their parents were away (which was more often than not), at least then her record player was loud enough to shut out the moans.

But Nancy had to come along and fuck everything up. Y/N was sickened at the idea of her brother dating her childhood best friend. That wasn't even the worst part though, the sick fucker had to go break his heart too.

Having Steve wallow in self pity for a few days was one thing, but hearing him cry himself to sleep days on end was entirely another.

She took her eye off the ball to make sure it was a sound that never met her ears again. And people at Lakewood began to talk, next thing she knew, Y/N was thrown out when Bethany Wyatt somehow fell unconscious and woke up with a black eye and busted lip.

Her older brother was surprisingly comforting, but the house felt all too suffocating, even without their never-to-be-seen parents around. It took six days for her to finally snap- being cooped up in the same four walls, sappy romcoms playing in the background whilst Steve tried to shrink her after getting an 'A' on his latest psychology paper.

"Leave me the fuck alone, for Christ's sake I'm not one of those kids you babysit! Go piss in Declan's cereal." Y/N roared, cartoon steam clouds escaping her ears.

She and Steve weren't close like some siblings, they didn't do hugs or say 'I love you'. They clashed and fought; the older boy thinking he's always right and that he knows everything, only setting off Y/N's explosive anger.

Steve groaned and stormed up the stairs, following his sister to her room, "His name's Dustin- fuck! You're so immature, you know that? Maybe I do need to babysit you, maybe then you'll learn to accept that you're sad about being kicked out of Lakewood, instead of biting my head off like a little bitch."

Y/N looked up at him incredulously, as if he'd just killed six puppies. She got up from her bed and stood right in front of him, pressing her index finger against his chest accusatory, "I'm not sad, dickwad, I'm furious because I defended myself against a bully and I'm the one who gets punished. It's not my fault she learnt to fight with her words and I fight with my fists. It's not my fault I'm like this, Steve!"

He stared at her for a few moments, watching his little sister's entire body move as her breathing became laboured and heavy.

She pushed past her brother and ran downstairs, "If I'm not back before you wake up, the demogorgon attacked me!"

"That's not-." Steve shouted, only to hear the front door slam shut halfway through his sentence, "funny."

It had been three months since Eleven had returned and saved Hawkins for the second time, Y/N knew they were no longer out there. She also knew it would strike a nerve in her brothers damaged soul and in that moment it was exactly what she wanted. The Harrington girl would probably regret it when she arrived back home in the early hours, knock on Steve's door and he'd tell her he was the one out of line and that it was okay. After all, he was the reason behind why she got expelled.

Y/N found herself running towards the school. In her short pleated skirt, fishnets and combat boots, the girl sprinted all the way through the woods until she found a clearing, and began walking on the side of the road. She should've been terrified to be out in the darkness all alone after the sights that had scarred her eyes, but it calmed her disturbed mind. Her problems faded to insignificance at the idea of being attacked by an inter-dimensional monster.

Her anger had dissipated after an hour or two of strolling back up and down, and she finally began to feel at ease in the cool midnight winds. That's when the sound of a turbocharged engine collapsed her serenity. She turned on her heel, letting the asphalt crunch under her foot as she squinted into the oncoming headlights.

Numbness had spread far enough over her body not to care whether the driver was Steve, a total stranger, or maybe even a creature from the upside down ready to kill her. Y/N shrugged it off and continued wandering, moving into the forest clearing so the muscle car didn't hit her if the driver wasn't paying enough attention.

Her steps became hurried as she heard the engine quieten, gaze kept forwards until the car picked up enough speed to pass her then completely stop. The air in her lungs felt trapped, feet planted to the broken up edge of the road.

"Hey!" A young yet deep male voice called, a mop of gentle dirty blonde curls appearing over the roof as the sound of the metal door opening and shutting cut away at the silence Y/N found herself stuck in. She didn't dare to move, eyes wide in a hazy mix of fear and intrigue.

He began moving around the car, closer to her frozen figure and stopping at what he deemed a safe distance. Billy looked her up and down, not in his usual 'I wanna fuck you' way towards the opposite sex; he checked over every inch of her exposed skin to make sure there were no signs of injury. When he finally met her eyes, he was stunned. They were the colour of milk chocolate edged with a deep forest-green. The two colors seemed to swirl together like moss creeping over rich soil.

Beautiful, he thought, not noticing the deep violet bags which sat beneath them. Y/N hated her eyes for them, yet they hadn't crossed his mind.

"Are you okay, Bambi?" Billy asked cautiously, taking a small step closer to her. His voice felt soft like a warm hug, yet she knew how it could easily be laced with venom. She'd seen his type before, knew how they could act so smooth then at the flick a switch be encased by rage if the word 'no' was introduced to them. She'd dated that type, been manipulated by their silver tongue and soft touch.

"I'm fine." Y/N's voice found the courage to speak, her body pushing past his and continuing its disassociated roam down the empty road ahead. She didn't feel like speaking to anyone, didn't feel like doing anything. Her mind was a wormhole of desolation and all she wanted was some peace away from home life and school life.

"If you want me to get in my car and carry on, I can. But, chances are you're feeling alone and don't-" Billy tried his best to do what he thought was right, he didn't have to stop when he saw her shivering figure at the side of the empty road. Hell, he probably shouldn't have.

"What you do doesn't really affect me, kid." Y/N snarled with no enthusiasm, her words falling hollow and getting lost in the wind.

The girl noticed he didn't speak after that, yet she hadn't heard the distinct sound of a car door opening and shutting either. She turned her head a fraction, not wanting to give him the attention he seemingly so desperately wanted from her but interested to know if she was about to get killed. Y/N rolled her eyes irritably as his taller figure appeared beside her own.

A few minutes passed as they ambled along the never ending barren road side by side without a word exchanged. Y/N felt oddly comfortable, more so than she did in that stupid private school or at home with Steve in constant seldom silence or rage filled bickering.

This silence was pleasant and held no secrets. Mostly due to the fact they were perfect strangers, no lingering expectations to be great or even good. Y/N stole another glance at him through the dark moonlight, his thick shoulder length hair appearing soft in its naturally curly state, and his flawlessly chiselled face hidden by plump cheeks and long eyelashes.

He could've committed some kind of atrocity for all she knew, but is company felt comforting and she wasn't one to judge.

"D'you just plan on following me around all night, then?" Y/N's voice sounded much more mellowed and velvety, her heartbeat no longer erratic in her ears allowing her mind some peace.

Billy sighed and rubbed a hand across his face before stuffing both into the pockets of his denim jacket to find some kind of warmth, "Haven't exactly planned that far ahead, gotta be honest with you. I don't know, I just needed to clear my head, and it seemed like you were doing the same."

"You could say that." Y/N scoffed, her numb mind somehow still managing to make her legs move forwards without stumbling. The biting cold air pricked at her paled skin, but she enjoyed the feeling. It was better than feeling nothing at all. "Fucked up shit happens a lot considering nothing happens around here."

"Did someone hurt you?" The words filled with unease tumbled from his mouth before he had the chance to catch them. Billy couldn't tell himself why he cared, why he was still walking along side this stranger in the dead of night on a Tuesday. Wednesday, now. But after the events at Mrs Byers' house, he had realised he'd become the monster he feared most- his father. If there was anything he could do to stop that, it was all he had done for the past three months.

Y/N smiled at her own stupid actions coming back to the forefront of her memories. She shook her head, still smiling, "That's too complicated to answer right now. Unfortunately, I managed to fuck things up pretty bad all on my own this time."

"I'm listening." Billy's eyes wandered across the unending tree border as he let the girl gather her thoughts and decide whether to indulge him or not.

She did.

"A couple weeks ago I overheard some skanks from my school trash talking my family; you see my brother slept with this girl named Rosie once ages ago so she put herself on a pedestal and thinks her words are gospel now. She was joking with her friends about how we're basically orphans. And then, this is the real kicker, she made up a rumour saying I'd got crabs from sleeping with the gym teacher. Which is hilarious because I'm a virgin still. So, I confronted her, she denied it, and I may or may not have blacked out and beat the living daylights out of her. Last week the dean decided to kick me out, so as of next Monday I'll be back at the shit show they call Hawkins High."

It felt easy to spill her thoughts to this oddly handsome person she'd never met before. Y/N felt like adding, 'oh and there's supernatural demons running around trying to take you to another dimension and kill you, but don't worry, our telekinetic friend saved us. Twice.' But she liked him enough in that moment not to want to scare him away.

"I would've hit her, too." Billy chuckled dryly, realising this girl was stronger than she seemed. His voice picked up after a beat of silence, "Billy, by the way."

"Y/N." She smiled her first warm, genuine smile for a rather long time, and it felt strange and satisfying all at once. Silence fell upon them once again after that, not feeling unpleasant in the slightest. They walked side by side with no destination in mind, Y/N's body bumping against his every now and again. The fist time was an accident, after that she kept on doing it to see the small smile pull at the corners of his lips from the contact.

Her combat boots halted on the torn up asphalt, kicking up small stones a few feet across the road. Without indication to her newfound friend, she switched direction and began walking back towards the other end of the endless road back towards Hawkins away from Lakewood.

"Alright then." Billy quirked an eyebrow at her odd behaviour as he followed and fell back into aimless step with her.

"Billy," she enjoyed the way his name rolled off her tongue, "could you drive me home?" She looked up at him with hope in her eyes, half feigned half real. Y/N was a shell of a person, broken and cold after what her eyes had witnessed, but she really liked the way her mind felt at ease around this boy with fluffy hair and muscular arms.

"Sure."

They made their way up to the car in silence, time running by much quicker with Y/N's spirits lifted. Billy unlocked his Camaro and the two settled into their seats, the heater almost instantly turned up to the highest setting.

"Where are you from, Billy?" Y/N couldn't help herself but ask, she had a knack for wanted to know everything and managing to know everything one way or another. She enjoyed the ever so slight accent in his voice, certainly not from these parts. His olive skin, probably once a lot more tanned and bright, gave it away too. Nobody here got enough vitamin D to look that pretty.

She told him to take the next turning, filling the space his answer was about to fall into. Y/N noticed the sounds of AC/DC playing quietly, one of her all time favourite songs. Steve would buy their albums and she'd buy Madonna when they visited the mall together, then swap when they got back to his car.

"California, my dad remarried and they both wanted a new start, so we ended up here." Billy answered calmly, voice tinged with anguish. The girl gave him another direction and told him to pull up two houses down from her own.

"If my brother saw someone giving me a lift home I think he'd murder you then me, so for everyone's safety it's best not to let him in on our little secret." Y/N grinned halfheartedly up at Billy, realising Steve wouldn't have gone to sleep yet and it was her fault. He was a real dick sometimes, but she wondered if he was the only person in the world to actually give a shit about her.

"Sounds like a real buzzkill." Billy joked with an unknown lightness to his tone, turning the ignition off and settling his gaze on her devastatingly brilliant eyes again.

Y/N nodded and leant over the centre console, wrapping her arms around Billy's much larger torso, he didn't react for a moment, not entirely sure what was happening, but he eventually returned the hug.

"Thanks for stopping earlier, tonight would've been a lot more lonely if you hadn't." Y/N unclasped her seatbelt and unlocked the door, sending the boy a truly heartfelt smile before they said goodbye to one another. He watched her walk down the road and disappear into her driveway, making sure she was safe before he left.

The Harrington girl quietly entered her house, taking off her rather muddy boots and making her way up to her brother's bedroom. She knocked quietly on his door out of politeness but didn't wait for an answer before opening it.

"Steve-" her voice was remorseful, this is how it always went.

He groaned a little from his work desk, eyes failing to stay open consistently, "I know, I'm sorry." Steve sent her a weak smile, knowing how hurt his little sister was at heart.

"Yeah," she sighed, "me too."

Y/N climbed into bed that night with the scent of Billy's strong cologne still clinging to her too, and it made her feel at ease. She slept well for the first time in a very long time, mind for once not plagued by creatures from another world.

Taglist:

@ilkaeliseb @florenceivy @annas-unicorun @astro-sweetheart @4everchrista @delicatelyherdreams @mautand @me-a-hopeless-romantic @buckysjuicyplums @lucyrocks86

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[kookiepleasee]

Hostility.

Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader

Genre: Tsundere, growing yandere tendencies, angst

TW: death

Summary: Being best friends and going to the same college can make Yoongi realize some things. 

Yoongi closed his eyes, the music filling his ears and the empty space around him. The university’s music department was always left abandoned when final exams week rolled around, and it allowed Yoongi to finally express himself when he never could. 

He opened his eyes again, focusing on the black and white keys in front of him. His fingers played so delicately on the refurbished piano. The university didn’t find a need to buy a new one, but Yoongi was content with the aged musical instrument; it had character. 

He continued the motions with his fingers, his hands playing the most beautiful notes. It was a shame no one was here to hear it. 

Yoongi considered joining the music department and fulfilling his dream, but he knew financial-wise it was going to get him no where.

But as he sat in front of the piano, he forgets that he almost failed statistics twice, forgets that he regrets majoring in business just to get school over with, and forgets that his mother will never be as proud as him as she is with his brother. He solely focuses on the keys being pressed, and the resounding music flowing in the spacious room. 

His foot carefully calculates when to push down on the piano pedals as he closes his eyes once more, his fingers diligently working themselves. 

He found solace in the way he himself created such a beautiful noise. A domino effect in which his fingers meticulously pressed onto the white keys, then on the black keys, then working his way down to the white keys again to create the music he cherished the most. 

Oh, how he wishes he could live in the mountains. Alone and at peace with a piano by his side. 

Never mind that, he won’t be suffocated by his overbearing mother with her expected high standards and judgements. 

Then he finally remembered that he did fail statistics twice, and that he regrets majoring in business, and that his mother will always see him as substandard. He harshly bangs his hands onto the keys, the music becoming harsher and faster than what the original piece called for. Yoongi pursed his lips, his foot slamming onto the pedals. His whole body moved as his fingers worked harder than before, aggressively making the music bounce off of the walls. 

Yoongi was left heaving when the piece was finished. And all that was left was him and the thoughts of failure in his mind. His hands slide away from the keys and onto his lap. His black hair covers his eyes, but he doesn’t make an effort to move them out of the way. 

“That was good, kind of sloppy at the end, but good.” Yoongi jumps from the sudden voice behind him. He doesn’t turn around, finally recognizing it was you, his best friend critiquing him.

“Thanks asshole.” He gruffs out, his fingers gripping onto his shirt. He tries to act as if he just didn’t pull himself out of a self-wallowing pit of despair, but his stature was too noticeable for you.

“Who pissed you off this time?”

“No one.”

“Min Yoongi.”

“Y/N Y/L.”

“Yoongi~”

“Fuck off.” 

You, his best friend; an odd label since all you both seem to do is argue, walked up behind him, your hand inching towards his shoulder.

Yoongi felt it coming, your empathetic side whenever you notice his odd behavior. He hated that he depended on your soft touches, but his exterior never allowed you to realize that he did in fact, need you.

-

“So are you ever going to tell me what had your panties in a twist earlier?”

“I don’t wear panties.”

“You don’t?” You smile at your own comment before swallowing down your sandwich. Yoongi glares at you before he engulfs a spoonful of his own yogurt. 

“Yoongi, you know what I meant.” You become serious again, watching his eyes close in frustration.

“I am going to key your car if you don’t shut up about it.”

“Hostility is going to get you no where, you know.” You muffle out, trying your hardest to not spit out any food. 

“Sure it will.” Yoongi sarcastically claims. He disregards the leftover yogurt in front of him and looks at you to make a point. His breath hitched when he saw you sat before him, bread crumbs littered across your lips and a hoodie draped over your body. 

The denial that ran through Min Yoongi’s body shot through the roof as he analyzes your features. For so many years he has been able to look the other way and become the apathetic and sarcastic best friend of Y/N Y/L/N, but not today. At this very moment, in a booth tucked away in the cafè, Min Yoongi can say that Y/N was the one. 

Maybe Yoongi was a bit disappointed that he finally broke his record for being able to restrain his feelings from you. His cold, apathetic exterior only being shown and nothing more. 

“Hello~ Min Yoongi.” You wave of what was left of the sandwich in front his face, making him jump from the sudden realization he has been staring for far too long.

“What is it?” You ask. 

“You have crumbs all over your face. Clean yourself up, hobo.”

You roll his eyes at his comment, lazily wiping the back of your hand across your lips. Yoongi continues to eat his yogurt, noticing that you were packing up your books.

“Where are you going?” Yoongi didn’t mean to sound so hopeless, and his cheeks redden in embarrassment.

“To class, idiot. You should be going to stats or you’re going to have to take it a fourth time.” You tease, “Meet me at my car so we can hangout.”

Yoongi scowls at you. Flipping you off as you turn your back to leave, he counts down the minutes until you return.

-

Maybe if you hadn’t invited him out to your car after class, his hands wouldn’t be shaking. Min Yoongi was a tough boy, as his mother would like to call him. 

A tough boy who listens to no one, not even their mother.

But why did this tough boy have a best friend who had a heart of gold? Someone who had a future and a well rounded personality. 

Maybe you were sent by the gods to shape him up- slap him into his senses. 

Or maybe you were sent to show him he will never have anyone like you.

Nonetheless, Min Yoongi allowed himself to bond with you over the years. No matter the amount of stupid little arguments you two shared, Yoongi enjoyed the bickering. It was intimate, really. Being able to throw jabs at each other and laugh about it afterwards was better than just awkwardly hanging out and asking about their day.

“Where are you taking me?” He asks, rubbing his hands over his jeans to relax himself. 

“To the woods to murder you, Min Yoongi.” You rasp out in an ominous voice. 

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters out, suppressing the smile behind his fist. Yoongi looks out of the window, still trying to deny that he did in fact, want you.

-

“What the hell is this?” Yoongi questions, eyeing the modern building in front of him. 

“Shut up for once and follow me.” You grab his hand, leading him to the building. Yoongi notices the overflowing people circling around the entrance waiting for their tickets to be scanned.

“Y/N what the hell did you bring me to.” 

“A piano recital.” You claim, watching his ears turn red. 

“Why?” 

“Because... you like to play the piano? Do you not want to watch it?” Now it was your turn for your ears to turn red, embarrassed that he might’ve not liked the thought of it. 

“No! I mean yes! Yes, I want to watch it.” Yoongi stumbles over his words. 

Honestly, Yoongi couldn’t care less about the piano recital, but since you had thought of him- 

you thought of him. You went out of your way to bring him here. 

-

“Did you like it?”

“You could tell his fingers were stiff. Mediocre.”

“Yoongi, that’s rude.”

“It’s not rude if I am simply criticizing.”

You swing the car keys with your hand as you two walk back to the car. The concert was boring, but you managed to keep your eyes open.

Unlike you, Yoongi stared at the artist on stage, engrossed by the music. 

-

“What do you think he thinks about when he plays the piano.” Yoongi randomly asks. You look up from your textbook, confused for a moment.

“The pianist from yesterday’s concert? The hell would I know? What do you think when you play?”

Yoongi shrugs from your question, regretting he had asked in the first place. You wouldn’t understand. Returning his sight on his laptop screen, it had looked like he was reading something important, but he was disassociating. Wondering if the pianist too forgot about his worries, as if there was nothing else in the world. Just him and his piano. 

You also wouldn’t understand that his feelings has grown for you. Every splitting second wondering about your whereabouts, who you were with, if you had eaten already. Maybe you would, but Yoongi couldn’t stand the rejection. He’d throw himself out of the window out of embarrassment.

-

“Let’s hangout after class.”

“No.”

This was new to you. Yoongi refusing your little adventures. You tilt your head, awaiting for his smile and telling you he was just kidding, but he never did.

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to hang out.” “...Okay.” 

You look at him for a bit longer hoping he’d throw an insult and say sike! but Yoongi remained in his spot, unmoved.

-

You were tired of Yoongi being dismissive. How can he just disregard you? After being friends with him since highschool, he couldn’t just throw you away, can he?

“Yoongi. It has been days since you have insulted me or hung out with me for that matter. What is up your ass?” You stomped up to his dorm and spoke your mind once he had opened his door. 

“Nothing is up my ass.” He mumbles, turning around and leaving the door open for you to enter.

“Jesus christ, this place is a dump.” You kick around a pair of shorts on the floor. 

“Then leave.”

“Yoongi, stop being a big baby.” 

“Leave.” 

It was no longer an option but more of a demand.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” You ask. 

What the hell has gotten into him? Yoongi could ask himself the same question. He can’t even carry out simple daily tasks without thinking about you. Denial is what has been making Yoongi get out of bed and go to class. If he had succumbed to his thoughts, he would be closed off in his dorm, wishing about you. 

You would never understand if he had explained, so he instead ignores your question and plops himself onto his bed. 

His roommate is gone, which only left you two and a shut door. Yoongi closes his eyes in disgust. How could he have these heinous thoughts about you? 

Yoongi could take you here in his dorm room, on his bed, blessing the sheets.

His eyes open once more when he hears the door slam shut. You had left.

-

Maybe Yoongi would have gotten over you if it hadn’t been for the fact that you were the only thing on his mind now. He had no interest on playing the piano anymore, because when he did try to play, he was too focused on the keys when he rather could be focused on you.

Yoongi thinks thats when the cord snaps. Realizing this pit of regret was eating him up. Maybe he was right, god had sent you just to rub it in his face that he’ll never have anyone like you.

But he will.

-

He pounds on your dorm door this time, his fingers fiddling with each other as he hears the doorknob wobble. 

Your face appears from behind the wooden door, and a frown is instantly found on your lips.

“Yoongi.”

“Listen-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You were being a dick.” Before you could close the door, Yoongi shoves his foot between it. With his limb now in the way of you being left alone, you glare at the boy in front of you.

“Can’t you just listen to me?”

“Like how you listened to me when I went to your dorm?” You spit, annoyed that he had the audacity to even ask you that. 

You expected him to stare at you with his soulless eyes and walk away and sulk about it for a week and come back to you as if nothing had happened.  (Like he always does)

What you had not expected was the door to fling open as Yoongi slams his palms onto it.

“Yoongi what the fuck!”

“You’re going to listen to me.” He demands. His body mere inches away from yours.

“You- you have been infecting me. You did something to me and I don’t like it at all. I feel things- things I have never felt before for you. I’ve been trying to wash away these feelings but holy shit Y/N, I can’t. I love you.”

"Yoongi...you’re my best friend.” The boy shuts his eyes in frustration and purses his lips. So fucking what if they were best friends? Your voice makes him focus on you. “Also, I’ve been talking to someone.” You look at your feet, too afraid to be so close to him. 

“What- what do you mean talking?” 

“Kim Seokjin, the senior in our class-”

“Kim Seokjin? That narcissistic asshole?”

-

Yoongi could never stomach the thought of physically hurting someone, but here was, repeatedly thrashing a wrench onto ‘the Kim Seokjin’s’ face.

“I had confessed my feelings to her and she told me she had eyes for you. Do you know how humiliating that is?” 

He continues his assault in the senior’s dorm room.

“-how fucking embarrassing it is to be rejected?”

The senior had no words as he was unconscious and blood was pouring out of his mouth. Yoongi was nervous as hell when he entered the boys room without warning, earning Kim Seokjin to jump from his desk chair. He stayed quiet as the senior repeatedly asked him what the hell he was doing before the iron clashed into his temple.

“Just you fucking wait, she will never set her eyes on you ever again.”

Yoongi heaved as he saw the mess he had made in the now dirty bedroom. He looks around to see how he could clean it up, but opts to just drop the wrench into the sink and allow the water to flow from the faucet. He washes the tool, noticing that he finally did something right. 

“You were so ignorant when you had said hostility gets you no where. Look where I am now- winning.” Yoongi says out loud in the empty room, a dead body now laying a few feet away from him.

[turnupfortragedy]

Operation MOVE : an essay on Philadelphia PD racism & Leftover Crack

SAME TEXT AS IN PHOTO SET JUST DIFFERENT FORMAT

A simple bass line plays for a few seconds, violins and soft sounding strings follow in; creating a build up to deliberately deep drumming then an electric guitar plays and he screams. “Philadelphia, 78’, shut down MOVE by police state,” sings Stza, the lead singer of an American punk rock band from New York. Scott “Stza” Sturgeon was just a kid when at the time Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo ordered the black liberation group MOVE to vacate their home. 9 members of MOVE were imprisoned for the death of James Ramp, a cop, who was shot in the back of the neck. Mayor Rizzo in an archive of NY Times on August 8th 1978 “There is no question that MOVE fired the first shot.” Years later, in 1985 the Philadelphia PD dropped two bombs on MOVE; catching 65 row homes on fire and killing eleven people. Today Black Lives Matter is protesting the murder of George Floyd, a black man, killed by Derek Chauvin, a cop, that knelt on Floyd’s neck. Seems like things have not changed much since then.

My professor mentioned MOVE in class while we all talked about George Floyd, the BLM protests in Philly, and society's need to keep black people oppressed. That conversation made me remember this song that I really love: Operation MOVE by Lëftover Crack. I listened to it a lot with one of my best friends Lauren; they introduced me to the song on one of our many drives to I-don’t-know-where during our time together at a college in Philadelphia county. They like a lot of really awesome music that I had never heard of because I led a pretty sheltered life until then. 

There is this awesome memory I have of us always, almost constantly, playing this song after they showed it to me. We would be blasting the song so loud the car’s speakers were probably blown out from it. Together we'd punch the roof of their car from the inside with all the windows down; forcing the world to listen though they probably didn't understand the lyrics from all that screaming. Maybe I didn't either or not entirely anyway but I felt the music and what it meant. I never looked the lyrics up. I was too busy disassociating and following Lauren’s lead; Even when I was having a good time my mind was fogged with feelings and off somewhere, I’m not sure where. “Until the movement was incinerated” we would shout with the song, our fists red from hitting the metal roof.

MOVE was created in 1972, they fought for the rights of all living things, animals and humans alike. The group held demonstrations against police brutality and protested zoos. In my research I've found they follow the anarcho primitivism philosophy. “Friendly fire kills officer dead, the MOVE 9 are framed up instead” the song states the situation that occurred between MOVE and P.P.D. Most people believe friendly fire killed the officer in 1978 but our justice system incarcerated the 9 MOVE members for the killing of that cop. There is not much in the way of lyrics when speaking of the length of the written word for the song; but every bit powerful and packed with meaning. The tracking is 10 minutes long and has a wide range of musical genres working with the theme; the tragedy of how our country treats anyone against systemic oppression of minorities and people of color. Those instrumentals in the beginning hype you up for what is about to happen when the lyrics open up with that first incident. 

Twenty seconds of the song between the lyrics in the beginning and the next set is more drumming and electric guitar that gives me goosebumps knowing what is coming. 

The bombing of their commune or so called "compound", which I would argue both have a negative connotation, happened on May 13th in 1985. Philadelphia PD Lieutenant Frank Powell dropped two one pound bombs from above their home in a helicopter with the blessing of Police Commissioner George Sambor. "Sights trained on exits, the police wait. A firing squad for those who fight to escape" Lëftover Crack sings. You can clearly hear the anger that the  band has for the destruction of everything the band believes in, just like MOVE does. "MOVE fought against exploitation, the state's injustice, and their oppression. For these crimes that the city pigs created, The Africa's were incinerated."

 The lyrics are depressing but they aren't something dark the band created from their minds, this is factual; it is something our government allowed to happen. You can feel what those victims must have felt and how enraged the band is about the destruction of people and rights to their beliefs. Maybe because I agree with "f--k the police" that there cannot be peace without justice, that regardless of the individuals "ACAB." The world's opinions get to me and often I wonder am I biased, is the need for this fight, a revolution all in my head? Will my undying love for all people and their right to live life sway me into thinking the song is good? 

The lyrics are good because they are written well; they put together the story of those who fought with their lives for something they believed in. I feel an uproar in my soul and the urge to fight when I listen to this song. I find myself trying to scream the lyrics like Stza does, I don't sound like him all punk and metal but I sound infuriated. The song transports me, imagining myself at the time this occurred, imagining the horrific moments the MOVE folks faced in their own home. A good writer does this, they create the scene and you can swear you see it there in front of you with your very own eyes. 

I can picture the surrounding houses on fire, MOVE trying to escape. Their thoughts, awful ones, probably about dying; fighting for what is right then being met with gunfire by those sworn to protect and serve. I was young when I heard the band and mostly listening to the sounds of his screaming and the instrumentals, barely making out all his words in that song. But even though I couldn't make out everything he was screaming the feeling I could understand, these chills and this fire that already burned inside igniting more and more with each listen. 

Now I know the lyrics, I've listened to many of songs with screamers; my ear is trained to understand the singers. Now I know skills to use to try and keep me from disassociating so I'm more present instead of scared, off somewhere in my mind. Now I know the history about MOVE,  the Africa's, and how the world saw them through the eyes of the media: a cult, a terrorist group, cop killers. They, we, are people against the world looking for truth and justice. 

Reports are conflicting but I do not put it past our government to have acted like they wanted to stop the fire and instead said LET IT BURN. Destroying their city in order to further oppress those against law enforcement overpowering the people they take an oath to protect, regardless of race and status. My professor mentioned MOVE and how her area of the city remembers. A lot of us don't know because in our world it's reported on, then gone like a trend. These injustices happens again and again, the cycle seems to never end. People forget they put the past out of their mind or move on quickly by deeming it a tragic accident. 

"Sentenced to be incinerated, Sentenced to be incinerated" are Scott's last lyrics sung. When the song is coming to its end violins fade out the harsh metal theme for a few seconds. The song picks back up with the full works drums and all, the music sounds like frustration. Fading into another silence and a large piano piece with an acoustic guitar is played. The vocalist can be heard shouting vaguely, quietly ,and randomly, the music sounds like sad peacefulness. It is the year 2020 and I think, I hope these things don't have to occur anymore… that these songs don't need to be made. If they are made it is only to tell us the past not show us our future. I am waiting for that uplifting moment of music to lead this oppression to its end, not more death.

[writehardwhumpharder]

Giving up - Carson series

-----Trigger Warning---- This chapter is heavily focused on mental illness, mild drug use, and eating disorders. Do not read if you find any of these subjects triggering. This part of Carson’s story is particularly dark. This takes place when he was 16 and a junior in high school. There is PHYSICAL and EMOTIONAL WHUMP in the form of self-neglect, fainting, and a trip to the hospital.

Carson stared at himself for an unknown amount of time. He couldn't really remember what he was doing in the school bathroom in the first place. He only knew that after he came to stand here in front of the mirror everything slowed to a stop. His feet were cemented into the ground, preventing him from moving. And he stared so closely at his own eyes that his vision started to warp. He looked tired... and he was. It took a full two minutes to ask himself when he last slept and another two to conjure the answer. Three days ago. He'd been awake for around 62 hours now. The fatigue settled deep into his bones. He wanted to collapse at any moment, give in to the static that threatened to pull him under. But at the same time he wanted this feeling to last forever. Distantly he remembered that he was supposed to be in class, or maybe it was lunch. He didn't have any plans of eating so it didn't really matter which one he was missing. Carson forced his muscles to move as he instructed them, using his hands to unzip his backpack and fish out the empty altoids container that was now home to a half smoked joint and some kind of cheap e-cigarette. It's not like he could get lung cancer, he'd just cure himself later.

"Life is meaningless," he muttered as he lit the joint, blowing the smoke out the propped open window. If the bathroom didn't perpetually reek of weed he might be worried about getting caught. The other kids were too scared of him to tattle. He may or may not have played up his psychic abilities so they were convinced he'd really find out anything they said about him behind his back. The bathroom door squeaked open and Carson started to put out the joint before seeing it was some child, a freshman obviously. "Get lost." He said through a cloud of smoke. The kid disappeared without a fight. They always did. Now that he was free from his temporary catatonic state and proved capable of moving and speaking, Carson decided it was time to go find his way back to class. Maybe he'd even learn something. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

Making sure the stub of the joint was completely out, Carson settled on tossing it right in the trash can as he left. The hallway was nearly empty, emptier now that he was around. The hum of the air conditioner threatened to lull him to sleep as he dragged his feet down the hallway. Any intention of going back to class was quickly abandoned when he realized he had no idea which class he was supposed to be in or even what time it was. The hallway was lined with clocks so theoretically he should be able to check but his eyes didn't cooperate when he squinted at the clock hands. Lack of sleep will do that to you.  As the effects of weed started washing over him in waves, suddenly the heaviness of Carson's black hoodie felt lovely on his skin. His hood was already up, covering his mess of dark brown hair, but he pulled it down further over his face in an attempt to breathe in every scrap of comfort it had to offer. His mom washed it for him often, embedding the sweet scent of laundry detergent into its fibers.

Carson found himself in the staircase. Naturally his feet had led him here, one of the most tranquil places in the school. The walls and stairs were painted a solid white and large windows let in the mid-afternoon sunlight. In the back of his mind he couldn't forget that this wasn't where he was supposed to be. His mom would be so sad if she received another call from the school about his frequent disappearances. She said she understood how he felt. That he needed to get away sometimes. But still, she had basic hopes for him to graduate high school and get a decent job. As of now he wasn't on track toward either of those goals because while he still got A's in most of his classes his lack of attendance was borderline truancy.

"Um, Carson?" Someone asked from the connecting hallway. Carson looked up through red, glazed over eyes. It was Pete, one of the football players in his 4th period science class. "Mrs. Finn asked me to find you and bring you back to class." He stated plainly.

"Did she now?" Carson asked, habitually glancing at his left hand for something to smoke. Disappointment washed over him when he found it empty again.

"Yeah. She said she won't mark you up if you come back for the last 15 minutes," said Pete. Carson could tell he was trying really hard not to provoke him.

"Lucky me," Carson drawled, turning his gaze to the window beside him.

"Are you coming?" Pete asked when he'd officially lost Carson's attention again.

"Mmm, yeah I guess."

Without another word Pete turned around and allowed Carson to follow a few feet behind him. Pete wasn't so bad. He treated him more or less like everyone else did but being a tough football player he couldn't admit to being scared of him. It was refreshing to get within ten feet of someone without them flinching. Wow, he was so alone that walking vaguely near another person felt like a treat. They walked for quite a ways, showing just how far Carson had wandered. They had to go to the other end of the school and up a flight of stairs. The stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge. Carson was just so tired, physically, mentally, spiritually. That single flight of stairs took everything out of him. He had to grab onto the railing and half haul himself up with his arms. Pete waited up at the top while Carson took his sweet time with each and every step upward. Spots started to dance around his vision alarmingly but Carson wasn't about to admit that to Pete. Instead he focused on breathing a little quieter and keeping his eyes on the ground.

"You, uh, seem different lately," Pete said experimentally.

"How so?"

"Like... you're giving in. Becoming what people think you are." Carson stopped, speechless.

"Nevermind. What do I know?" Pete laughed nervously.

"You think, I'm not, what people think...?" The question sounded as disassociated as Carson felt but Pete still understood him.

"I think you could be dangerous, if you wanted to be. But you're not so different from every other student here trying to get through the day. Don't prove them right."

Carson laughed and stumbled a bit, catching himself at the last moment. Pete didn't miss the slip. There was judgment in his gaze, and something else, pity. Carson almost felt bad for being stoned right now. "Shouldn't class be over by now? We've been walking for forever." Carson whined.

"It's been 3 minutes," Pete corrected.

"Right, sure."

Pete had the decency to look forward while still slowing his pace to match Carson's. He wasn't watching when the spots took over Carson's vision again. The floor rocked beneath him, threatening to send him stumbling into the wall. What's wrong with me? Carson questioned himself. Maybe it was the complete lack of sleep and fuel normally used to propel a person. In any case, the carpet was looking real cozy right about now. The plaid pattern was so inviting as if to say Go ahead, sleep. You could just lie down right here, right now.

"Hey, wait a second. I wanna take a nap," Carson spoke up.

Pete spun around to dispute an impromptu nap when they were mere yards from the classroom but Carson had already resigned to the weight dragging him down. His eyes fluttered closed as the world tilted on its side. He collided with the carpet in a way that should have hurt but all he felt was warmth and oblivion. Why bother  anymore…

---

Carson woke up in an ambulance. Not the floor where he'd fallen asleep, not the nurse's office at the school, but an ambulance speeding down the highway. Either he'd slept through the initial evaluation from the nurse or they had thought it was that urgent enough to warrant a trip straight to the hospital. It was impossible to guess how long he had been out. Carson hadn't even considered that things might get this bad. He just needed some sleep, right?

A paramedic fussing with some tubes noticed his eyes open and put a hand down on his shoulder in case he tried to sit up. "Just lay down and relax. We're almost to the hospital." He said with a light squeeze on his shoulder before lifting his hand away and going back to what he was doing.

"Wha's that?" Carson slurred.

"We're just starting you on an IV, you're very dehydrated. The doctor will be able to tell you more."

"Did anyone call my mom?"

"Yes, the school is required to. I'm sure she'll meet us there as soon as she can." He said reassuringly.

They settled back into silence, leaving only the sound of tires skidding across bumps on the freeway. The siren wasn't on, it wasn't serious enough to warrant it. Carson was left to stare up at the metal roof of the ambulance wondering just how the hell he had gotten here. It added up. The lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of water, and the lack of will to obtain any of those things for himself. No doubt his mom would lose her shit and start watching him like a hawk at home. She'd probably offer to make his favorite foods and tuck him in at night just to make sure he actually ate and slept. She'd offer to help him with his homework then stealthily have him explain it all to her, completing the assignment without even realizing it.

"We're here. There will be a little bump as we guide out the stretcher," the paramedic said. His partner who had been driving came around the back to help and as promised there was a harsh bump when the wheels hit the ground, "there we go."

A nurse met them at the door and reviewed all the information they had while directing the paramedics to transfer him to ER bay 3. The whole thing was surprisingly boring, not at all like they showed on tv. It was embarrassing too. Something about laying down while everyone else is standing.. or the fact that most of this was overkill.

"Okay, Carson Hall, aged 16, date of birth November 8th, 1992. Your home address is listed as 2447 Farelly St. Is all that information correct?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"And you lost consciousness while at school," she said, reading off a paper.

"Apparently."

"Right, well, staying unconscious for longer than 10 minutes is concerning so I'm going to ask the doctor to order some tests. I'll just check your IV, okay, looks good," she said as she poked at him and double checked that the tubes and drip speed were all correct.

"Are all those tests really necessary?" Carson asked.

"We only need a couple blood samples to run them, it'll take less than a minute of your time." She informed him.

"You know what? I just remembered I don't have health insurance," Carson said, sitting up. She didn't stop him from sitting but she practically swatted his left hand away when he tried to touch the IV site.

"Nice try but you have to stay until a parent or guardian can sign you out. Your condition isn't serious for now so we'll wait for authorization before running tests. I want to be clear with you though that while you're not actively dying, long term neglect of your health can have serious consequences." Said the nurse. There was a slight sweetness to her tone. It wasn't entirely dry and blunt like many ER nurses he's encountered. "For now, feel free to get some sleep. If you need anything you can press that red button there. Any questions?"

"No."

The nurse dragged the curtain around his bed partially closed for some more privacy. While the ER wasn't exactly busy at that time of day she had other patients to tend to. Carson was left to sit on his bed and wait. Luckily he still had his phone in his pocket and the paramedics hadn't felt the need to cut off any of his clothing. He turned it on to find several missed calls and texts from his mom. Carson didn't like talking on the phone but she was most likely driving at the moment so texting might not be the best idea.

"Oh sweetie, how are you?" She said, voice practically dripping with sympathy.

"I'm fine. This really isn't necessary." Carson complained.

"Well the school has strict guidelines for when emergency services need to be called."

"I was just sleeping." He insisted.

"People who are just sleeping can be woken up, honey." He couldn't argue with that. "I'm almost there, see you in a few minutes." Carson heard some honking and swearing from the other end before she hung up. Probably road raging in her hurry to get to him. His phone slipped out of his hand as he involuntarily dozed off again. When he woke up both his mom and the doctor were standing over him.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"The doctor is explaining your test results," his mom said quickly, giving his hand a squeeze. He didn't even notice she was holding it until then.

"Don't you need to take blood samples or something?"

"Already did. The hard part is over. Would you like me to start over with your results?" The doctor asked. Since he was 16 they had some obligation to speak directly to him as the patient.

"Nah. It doesn't matter," Carson dismissed him.

"Actually it does matter. And I suspect you know that," the doctor challenged.

"Just get on with it so I can go home. I can go home right?"

"Yes, your mom can discharge you as soon as we establish a treatment plan." The doctor said calmly.

"A treatment plan for what?" Carson snapped.

The doctor took a deep breath as if what she was about to explain could take a while. "Well we're fairly certain your episode at school was caused by severe lack of sleep as well as severe dehydration. The problem goes beyond that though. You're also showing early signs of malnourishment. The blood test shows several vitamin deficiencies and anemia. The drug test..." Carson's eyes went wide, they did a drug test too?? "...came back positive for marijuana, nicotine, alcohol, and prescription sedatives such as Xanax, Valium, Klonopin, or Ativan."

"Klonopin," Carson stated, answering the unasked question. He didn't bother to dispute any of the other substances. It was all true after all. The doctor made a note on his chart.

"The levels are fairly low so we don't believe you have a drug problem. I'm leaning toward mental illness. Depression or anxiety. It's common for symptoms to start appearing in the late teens. Does any of that sound right to you, Carson?"

Carson laid on his side and crossed his arms so he didn't have to look at the doctor who didn't seem at all surprised by his uncooperative response. When he didn't answer his mom spoke  for him, "Depression, undiagnosed." Having it all out in the open now Carson felt the sudden urge to run far, far away. He could do it. No one would be able to stop him.

"I can write a prescription for antidepressants. We'd start at a low dose and see how he responds. I suggest finding a psychiatrist who can give more specialized care."

"I don't want antidepressants," Carson mumbled into his pillow.

"Are you sure you don't want medication? It is far more effective at treating depression than self-medicating which can make the problem worse."

None of this was news for him. He knew he was depressed, he also knew he wasn't handling it well on his own. "I don't want to be sedated."

"And here I thought you had a preference for sedatives," she told him, referring to the Klonopin.

"Fuck off," Carson bit, finally snapping under the tension of this entire situation. Lying helplessly on a hospital bed while his mom made sad puppy eyes at him and the doctor listed off all his flaws in medical terminology. It felt like his worst nightmare. There was a combination of fear, guilt, and bitter sadness.

"Carson!" His mom scolded, "do not talk to the doctor like that."

"It's okay. It's normal to be upset." She assured her. To Carson though the statement felt patronizing. You'd think it would feel good to have your problems be waved off as "normal" but it doesn't.

"I'll take him to see a psychiatrist for the depression and work on healthier behaviors at home." His mom said.

The doctor nodded, "Sounds like a plan. If you do find that you need more help you can always come back here or see your GP. I highly recommend getting a daily multivitamin and iron supplement at your local pharmacy. Being a nurse I'm sure you're more than qualified to monitor his eating and sleeping habits at home. If you don't have any more questions you can head on over to the front desk to sign the discharge papers."

"Okay."

"Have a nice rest of your day Mrs. Hall," the doctor said, shaking hands with his mother before leaving. Carson was still pointedly ignoring her so she just gave him a closed mouth smile without a handshake. With the doctor gone his mom's attention turned entirely to him.

"Oh, my poor baby, why didn't tell me you were struggling so much?" She asked as she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't want to."

"Why? You know you can talk to me."

"Because this is worse. The doctors and medications and all that. I'd rather just be at home." He whined.

"Well sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. I'll go fill out those forms then we can go straight home. Unless you want to pick up some food on the way?"

"Coffee," he mumbled.

"No more coffee for you. You need sleep."

"Mommmm," Carson whined.

"No. You know I'm right." She said.

---

As soon as they got in the car Carson put his earbuds in to listen to some music. His mom hated when he did that, especially when she wanted to talk to him. Figuring he had already been through enough that day she let it slide this time. At each red light she glanced over at him, taking note of the way his giant black hoodie hung on his bony shoulders. All the signs were there, today was just the tipping point. Deep down she blamed herself like it was somehow her fault he ended up with magic. She wanted her son to have friends, socialize, and have fun. But he was so completely isolated, closed off from the world on both his end and theirs.

Once they got home she made sure he went to sleep on the couch before ducking out to go to the pharmacy. Carson napped for maybe five minutes before a spark of anxiety woke him up again. He didn't want to sleep and eat proper meals, take vitamins and see a therapist. He wanted to see how far he could go like this. He wanted his suffering to be so loud he couldn't think anymore. He had a number of ways to stop thinking.

Carson didn't hesitate to go out on the back porch and fish the plastic bag out of the bushes next to the deck where he hid his weed. He had maybe 20 minutes before his mom got back, plenty of time to get stoned and go up to his room. Everything felt right with the world while he held the joint between his fingers breathing it in every time he felt the need. A haze settled over the backyard and suddenly the breeze blowing through the tall maple tree was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It was like the whole incident at the hospital never even happened. He wondered what it would be like to go to school tomorrow. Maybe it was just Pete who saw him pass out. Carson sure hoped he was the only one in the hallway. Truthfully he didn't remember it too clearly.

Carson sort of lost track of time and had to hide his stuff quickly then run upstairs at the sound of the car in the driveway. His mom would easily smell the lingering scent of weed in the air but at least he had done it outside. Mere seconds after he jumped into bed he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Carson, we still have a lot to talk about." She called out. There was no lock on his door, it had originally been a closet so why would there be? Instead he sent just a hint of magic into the wards drawn onto his door that would keep anyone from entering. She turned the knob uselessly. "Carson, unlock this door." She demanded.

"No."

"I'm serious. It's not cool to use your magic against me like that."

"Go away."

"Not until you open the door."

"That doesn't make sense. Why would I open the door to make you go away? That's counterproductive." He argued.

She sighed. If he was arguing, he was probably fine, she reasoned. "Fine. I'll give you some more time but we will talk about this. Don't forget about your homework." Carson pulled the covers over his head. He didn't really know what to do. He didn't want to change. His mom was going to plan everything out for him, force him to be healthy. The school might even insist on having a meeting with both of them.

All at once the walls of his room started to cave in on him. The tiny space just large enough for a twin bed felt even tinier. It was suffocating. He hastily pushed open his window and took in a desperate breath of fresh air. He needed to get out. He needed to run. And so he did. Carson used magic to orchestrate the escape from popping out the window screen to jumping off the roof onto the driveway. His mom would just have to forgive him.

[andwejust-ran]

Jopper Angst

-A lovely anon sent me an angst fic prompt. “Something bad happens to either Joyce or Hopper.” Be careful what you wish for anon. Angst is my passion. 

Spring 1986

“I’m heading out in ten minutes, Flo. I’ve gotta get going,” Hopper said. Contrary to his declaration, he meandered slowly around the station and down towards his office. Despite being late for dinner plans, he wasn’t in a mad dash to leave.

“Hopper...”

His hand cut her off. “Flo, I’m late.”

“Fine, but…”

“I’ll be in early tomorrow. I swear.” He reached his office and then stopped in place when he spotted the three teenagers making themselves at home behind his desk.

“What is this?” Eleven was sitting in his chair. Mike and Will were on either side of her. “What’d we talk about? This ain’t a playground.” His furrowed brows softened slightly when his daughter shot him a grin.  

“We’re looking for paper.”

“To leave a note,” added Mike.

Hopper studied the trio. Finding no sign of dishonesty, he shooed them away from his desk so that he could sit down. “You were supposed to be at his house after school.” He pointed towards Mike and then sank down into his chair with a groan. His limbs ached from overuse during the long day.

Mike quickly jumped to Eleven’s defense. “That’s what the note was for. We’re going to Dustin’s instead.”

Softly, but with excitement, Will spoke up, “his new TV is huge.”

Mike held out his hands to show the size. “It’s actually a projection screen, but it’s way bigger than mine.”

“Can we go?” Eleven asked.

“Please?” begged Will.

Completely underwhelmed by the electronic discussion, Hopper shot Will a sympathetic frown. “Buddy, you know it’s not up to me.” He knew better than to mess with the whereabouts of Joyce’s son.

Will immediately began to protest. “She won’t care, if you say it’s okay. I tried to call home. She didn’t answer.”

“That’s cause’ she’s probably already at the damn restaurant waiting for me.” Hopper grumbled. He tossed aside some paperwork and didn’t bother to straighten up his messy desk. “I was supposed to be home an hour ago, so I told her to meet me there.”

Eleven quickly backed up Will, “you can tell her when you get there. We won’t be home late.”

Home. The word still made her smile, and in turn, it made Hopper smile too. Their new home, not far from the center of town, included Will, Joyce, and on college breaks, Jonathan. They weren’t a normal family, but they were a family, nonetheless.

Hopper checked his watch and groaned when he realized that ten minutes had come and gone. He didn’t have time to argue. “Dammit, alright. Fine. You guys can go.” His lanky frame jumped out of his seat. “Come on. I’ll drop you off on my way.” He had been trying to arrange a date night with Joyce for weeks, but lately, their schedules never matched. Now that they finally did match, he was late…which was just his luck.

“Is tonight the night?” Eleven shrieked.

Hopper winced. The sound was harsh in the small room. “What?”

“The night you propose.”

Hopper’s eyes grew wide. “I thought we had a rule. You weren’t gonna tell anyone, remember?”

“You said don’t tell Joyce.”

“I said don’t tell anyone.”

“No you didn’t! So, tonight?”  Her brown eyes flashed with happiness. They were already a family, but she wanted it to be official. She wanted it more than she wanted anything else.

“You’re proposing to my mom?” wondered Will. His tone was laced with bewilderment, but not much else.

“No, no…” Hopper fumbled over his words and ran a hand through his hair. His tone softened when he saw Will’s wistful expression. “I’m not, no.”

“You have a ring,” argued Eleven.

He didn’t have to be reminded that he had a ring. It had been weighing heavy on his mind for months. His mother had given him the ring before she died and up until a few months ago, it had sat in a safety deposit box collecting dust. On a whim, he had retrieved it. It just...felt right. But then, he quickly panicked. Did she even want to get married again? Did he? He didn’t know. They didn’t discuss such things. Keeping their family safe from the supernatural forces of the town around them was their main priority. Anything else…seemed superficial. Hopper glanced towards his office safe, where he the ring was hiding, and shook his head. He couldn’t focus on that now.

Suddenly, Flo appeared in the doorway and interrupted the group. “Hop, we just got a call in about an accident, looks like the car hit a deer.”

Hopper was already dismissing her with a shake of his head. “Send Powell. I’m late enough as it is.”

His secretary raised a disapproving brow, “you usually handle the bad ones yourself.”

“Flo! I can’t! Joyce is waiting.” He motioned towards the kids. “Come on, let’s go.”

“It’s okay, we’ll walk,” Eleven insisted. “You can’t propose if she’s mad at you.”

“You’re proposing tonight? Well, why didn’t you say that,” exclaimed Flo. “I’ll get Powell on it right away.” Excited for him, she darted away before he could correct her.

Hopper shot his daughter a glare. “We’ll talk about this later,” he warned. He ushered them out of his office and followed quickly behind them. “The both of you be home by 9:30.”

“10:30,” argued Eleven.

The daily curfew negotiations stopped phasing him a long time ago. “10:00.”

“10:15.”

“10:00, or you’re both grounded.” The spring air was warm when they stepped outside, but a sudden chill ran up Hopper’s spine and made him take pause. Senses on alert, he checked out the area around them. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary or suspicious, he shook his head to rid himself of the dark thoughts. Things had been quiet lately. Almost, normal. There was nothing to worry about, but still, trusting his instincts had never failed him before. “I’m gonna drive you.” He insisted. “It’s on the way, anyway.” As they all piled into his blazer, he looked around again and the feeling of dread intensified.

        He felt slightly better once the group was safely inside Dustin’s house. His mind focused on Joyce as he sped through town. Their favorite restaurant was in a neighboring town. No one knew them there, or cared about them. It was a nice change of pace from the Hawkins gossip mill. Almost at the town limits, Hopper was forced to slow down when he saw emergency lights up ahead. “Fuck,” he muttered, when he realized that the road was completely blocked. “I can’t catch a break today.” As he got closer, he noticed two Hawkins Police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance. Slowly, it dawned on him that he had driven right into the accident scene that had been called in.

A young man from the fire department flagged him down and made him stop moving. In annoyance, Hopper rolled down the window as the man started speaking. “Can’t let you through, Chief.”

“Cut the shit, kid. I’m late. And this is the only way out of town.”

“It’s too dangerous. There’s gas all over the road.”

Following his gaze, Hopper sighed. The fire truck was blocking his view. “Can’t I just sneak up the side there?” he pleaded. With a charming smile, he added, “tell them it’s official police business.”

Not caring that he was the Chief of Police, the man shook his head. “No can do. The car might blow. Those gas tanks are faulty. Everybody knows that.”

Hopper stopped paying attention after he heard the word, ‘no.’ Frustrated, he slammed his hand against the steering wheel and got out. He scanned the scene until he spotted Callahan and Powell. Powell saw him first.

Moving uncharacteristically fast, the man was at his side within seconds. “Who called you? I told Flo to wait.”

“What?” Hopper’s brows scrunched up in confusion. “Nobody called me. Listen, I need to get through. I’m late to meet Joyce.”

Powell’s face suddenly fell and he held his hand up. “Chief…” He began, but Hopper wouldn’t let him finish.

“Dammit, Powell, it can’t be that dangerous.” Powell’s hand moved to Hopper chest, to keep him in place and he shot him a confused look. “What?”

Realizing that he had to be the one to tell him, and not knowing how, Powell spoke quickly before he could overthink it. “Chief, it’s uh…it’s Joyce.”

“What’s Joyce?” He was still focused on getting to dinner. The accident wasn’t really on his mind. But then, he glanced around and noticed that people were staring at him, with the same look of sympathy that Powell now had. Soon, things began to click into place. Before his mind had even fully registered what was going on, he stated, ‘no.”  

“It looks like she hit a deer and swerved into the tree.”

Hopper couldn’t hear a word of it. Blood rushed to his head as he took in the scene around him. Shaking his head, he again said, “no.” And moved so that he could have a better view. What he saw, would haunt him forever. What was left of Joyce’s green pinto was crumpled up against a large tree. The door and roof were missing and there were pieces of debris all around it.

“They’re afraid the gas tank’s gonna blow, so they won’t let anyone get too close.”

Bile rose up and into Hopper’s throat. He had to lean against his truck to keep himself from getting sick. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He could do nothing but stare blankly at Powell. Though he felt completely disassociated from the world around him, his brain eventually refocused and propelled him forward, towards the car.

Again, Powell grabbed him. “She’s not in there. They took her to Mercy General.” Hopper fought him off as Callahan came over to help. Both men managed to keep him in place. “She’s in bad shape, but she’s alive.”

Still unable to comprehend what was going on, he let out a strangled string of unintelligible words and then climbed back into his truck. The hospital was in the other direction and before the guys could stop him, he turned his truck around and peeled away.

“You think he’s okay to drive?” Callahan questioned. Powell looked at him in disbelief and then walked away. “What? It’s a logical question.”

*** “She’s got severe brain swelling. Dr. Andrews, our neurosurgeon, performed a procedure to relieve some of the pressure on her brain, but the next 24 hours are critical. We don’t know when she will regain consciousness. We have to see how she responds.” In the empty waiting room of the hospital, the doctor spoke, but Hopper found it hard to pay attention. His ears were clogged and his throat burned. The doctor’s words drifted in and out of his mind with little meaning. “She also broke two ribs, her right leg...and left wrist, we’ll have to do surgery on her wrist, once she’s stable.”

He couldn’t stand up, so he remained seated. While his hand scrubbed his face, he looked up. “How...uh. How...long till she’s stable?”

“We don’t know. It all depends on the swelling, and we won’t know the severity of the damage until she regains consciousness, I’m afraid.”

Hopper’s stomach dropped as bile rose again to his throat. How could this be happening?. “When...when can I see her?”

“Once they move her down to recovery you can see her.”

“Okay.” The doctor’s hand grasped his shoulder. Hopper didn’t even feel it. The room began to spin, so he leaned forward on his knees and buried his head in his hands.

*** Time lost all meaning for him as he sat by Joyce’s bedside. Hour after hour passed by and she still showed no signs of consciousness. He hated hospitals. Being there was hard. But seeing her that way, broken, fragile, clinging to life, was even harder.

“Your wife’s a trooper.” The nurse’s told him, each time they came into the room. “She’ll pull through.” Hopper didn’t bother telling them that they weren’t married. He didn’t tell them anything at all.

His emotional state wasn’t good, to say the least. Sometimes he would get angry. Sometimes he would get scared. But, it always came back to guilt, and it was the most self-destructive emotion to have. If he had left work on time, it wouldn’t have happened. He would have picked her up, driven her to a nice dinner, and then fallen asleep with her head cradled against his chest. Instead, he was sitting vigil by her beside, praying for a miracle. A throat cleared from the doorway, pulling him from his dark thoughts.

“Chief, uh, sorry to interrupt,” Callahan said, as he cautiously stepped into the room. He kept his eyes off of Joyce, the sight of her bruised and swollen face too hard to see.

Hopper spared him a quick glance before re-focusing on the bed. “Then don’t.”

Callahan ignored his outburst. “Jane called in, worried.” Hopper’s eyes immediately shifted back to his. “We didn’t know what to tell her.”

Realizing that he had completely forgotten about the kids, Hopper cursed under his breath and checked the time. Somehow, it was almost midnight. With Joyce’s hand in one of his, he pinched his nose with his other. “Shit.” How was he going to explain this to them? What was he going to tell him? A war waged in his mind.

Sensing that his friend was on edge, Callahan took matters into his own hands. “Why don’t I go get them? I’ll break the news and then bring them here.”

Hopper let out an audible breath and nodded. Swallowing hard, he said, “yeah, okay. Thanks.” It was a cowardly thing to do. He knew it, but was beyond caring.

*** Hopper annoyed every nurse and doctor caring for Joyce when he refused to leave her side. Eventually, though, he went out into the waiting room to wait for Will and Eleven. The kids were the only thing that could pull him away from her. Unable to sit still, he paced around impatiently.

He was turned away from the door when they arrived. “Dad,” called Eleven.

“Jane.” Their eyes met as he turned to face her. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else before she ploughed into his body and wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t always call him dad, just as he didn’t always call her Jane, but those were the names that slipped out naturally this time.

“I can’t find her. I’m sorry. I tried, but it won’t work.”

Paranoid that someone was listening, he glanced around the room, but no one was there. No one…but Will, who stood stiff and uncomfortable in the doorway. As their eyes met, tears filled Will’s round eyes and Hopper felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Come here, kid,” came his quiet command as he motioned for him. To his surprise, Will came without hesitation. Eleven made room and soon all three were wrapped in a giant hug.

Both teens cried, their bodies shaking against Hopper’s chest. It took every ounce of his strength not to cry himself. “She’s gonna be okay,” he told them. “It’s gonna be fine.” He wasn’t sure if he was saying it for their benefit, or his own.

“Can we see her?” Will asked. He wasn’t embarrassed by the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I wanna see my mom.” He broke away from the hug and stared at Hopper with a fierce look. With Jonathan gone, Will had stepped up and into the role of her protector.

“We’re not supposed to have more than one visitor at a time,” Hopper mumbled, as he scratched his chin. Then, thinking on it, he stood straight up and puffed out his chest. “I’m the Chief,” he snapped. “What can they do to me?”

The group was interrupted by Karen Wheeler as she stepped into the room. Mike was trailing fast behind her. “Sorry, guys. Parking took forever.” Ignoring the fact that Hopper looked shocked by her presence, she strode towards him and gave him a short hug. “Jim, how is she? What are they saying?”

Hopper ran his hand over his hair. “Not good.” He glanced at the kids and then lowered his voice. “She hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“Oh god,” she gasped. With her hand to her lips she added, “I’m so sorry.”

“Karen, what are you doing here?” He didn’t mean to be so abrupt, but his mind wasn’t capable of basic understanding.

“Jane called Michael when you didn’t come home,” she explained, as if it made perfect sense. Though it was the middle of the night, she looked impeccable, as usual. “She called back once Callahan showed up.” Her forehead twisted into incredulous lines. “I wasn’t gonna send them off with that moron.”

Upon hearing that Karen had driven them to the hospital, Hopper nodded and his shoulders sagged in relief. Her kindness, though unexpected, was appreciated. “Thank you…I didn’t really know what to do.”

Karen dismissed his worries with a wave of her hand. “Anything you need, I’m here for you guys. They can stay at our place tonight.” She glanced towards the kids just as Will spoke up.

“I’m not leaving,” he insisted.

“Me either,” added Eleven. They stared at Hopper, daring him to argue. When he said nothing, they eventually looked away.

Hopper shut his eyes as the room started to spin again. How was he supposed to parent while Joyce was fighting for her life? How could he go on, alone…if she didn’t recover? The dangerous thoughts invaded his mind and stayed there. Around him, conversations carried on, but he couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own misery.

Eventually, Karen nudged his shoulder with her own. “Hey, listen. I hope I didn’t overstep here, but I called Nancy. She got a hold of Jonathan and they’re flying out in the morning.” At Hopper’s crestfallen expression, she rushed to add, “Ted and I paid for the airfare. It’s the least we can do, we don’t mind. We just want them home safe.”

Hopper chewed on his bottom lip. When Jonathan left for college, he had made Hopper promise to take care of his mother. It was a promise that he hadn’t been able to keep and now, Jonathan would know the kind of man he actually was. Useless. Selfish. Unfit. “Thanks, Karen.” He managed to grunt out. Jonathan would never forgive him, just as he would never forgive himself. “It means a lot.”

***         Taking Will and Eleven in to see Joyce was a gut wrenching experience. He tried to prepare them for what they would see, but nothing could ever really prepare someone for that. Hopper was back at his place by her side while they stood as far away as they could.

Understanding their shock, he gave them some time before saying, “I know it looks bad, but they’re taking good care of her.”

Eleven was the first to speak, and her voice caught in her throat as she asked, “can I talk to her?”

“Of course.”

“No,” she corrected. “I mean, try to find her.”

His argument was instantaneous. “It’s too dangerous.”

“What if she’s trying to talk?”

Hopper glanced around at the dozens of monitors and machines that she was currently hooked up to. Then, he shook his head. “No. Not here.”

Normally his stubbornness would have caused a fight, but Eleven didn’t have much fight left in her. She had used it all up convincing Will that something was very wrong when they came home 15 minutes past curfew to an empty house. Instead of arguing with her father, she finally moved from her spot by the door and stood on the other side of the bed.

“Can she hear us?” Will’s question was almost inaudible.

Hopper answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

Going silent again, Will watched as Eleven and Hopper spoke to his mother. It took him a long time to process the scene before him. Eventually, he felt comfortable enough to stand beside Eleven. “Mom? It’s me. Will.” She hadn’t given up on him during his traumatic ordeal in the upside down. He wasn’t about to give up on her. “I’m here.”

Hopper’s chest burst with pride as he watched them, but he soon grew emotional again. They had been through so much. They shouldn’t have to go through this too. Eleven’s words, were his undoing.

“You’re safe, mom. We’ve got you.”

Tears sprung to Hopper’s eyes as he let out a strangled breath. He quickly stepped away from the bed and turned his back to them so that they wouldn’t see him cry. It wouldn’t be long before they realized that it was all his fault. He didn’t deserve to cry.

***         It was sometime later, when a red eyed Will came to sit beside Hopper in the hallway. Hopper had been unable to compose himself, so he had left the kids with Joyce so that he could get some air. He never made it outside though. Instead, he slid down the wall of the hospital corridor as his legs gave out.

“Are you okay?” asked Will. Realizing that the question was stupid, his eyes fluttered closed as he corrected, “I mean, right now.”

“Yeah.” It was a lie, but he smiled, hoping to sell it.

It didn’t work. Will saw right through him. As he always seemed to. “Liar.”

Hopper had Sara’s blue hair tie in his hand. He fumbled it around his fingers and let out a bitter chuckle. “You caught me.”

“At least we can be not okay, together.”

Genuinely touched by his strength, Hopper smiled for real. “She’s never called her mom before,” he said, hoping to distract them both for a few minutes.

Will glanced towards the closed hospital room door to make sure that Eleven couldn’t hear him before he said, “Yeah, she has. It’s their secret thing.”

Hopper’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Will shrugged. “El’s been calling her that for a long time.” They had sworn him to secrecy, and he wasn’t completely sure why, but secrets didn’t seem to matter right now. “Don’t tell her I told you. It’s their thing, you know?”

The information was completely new to him. Hopper soaked it up like a dry sponge. After all these years, Joyce Byers never failed to surprise him. “I won’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. The knowledge that Joyce wasn’t alone kept Hopper’s anxious limbs still. Will cleared his throat, and then suddenly, his big watery eyes were fixed on his.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Will swallowed hard and then continued, “if she...never wakes up?”

Hopper’s face blanched. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. It took him several seconds to reply. “What do you mean?”

“Jonathan lives in New York now. Are they gonna make me live with my dad?”

“What?” Hopper’s fists clenched until his nails were digging into his palms. Just the idea of that scenario made his blood boil. Sudden territorial feelings exploded through his chest. Lonnie didn’t deserve to have Will. Hopper didn’t care what biology said, Will was his, and he would be damned before he let anyone else have him. “No kid, I won’t let that happen.” His tone was a little too forceful, a little too angry. Wil looked away and Hopper immediately put his arm around him and softened his tone. “I promise.”

The teen wasn’t naive. Or easily outsmarted, but he instantly believed Hopper. The man had never given him a reason not to believe in him. “Okay.”

“Trust me.”

Will pulled away when Hopper playfully messed up his hair. He shot Hopper a glare, but it only lasted a few seconds before he smiled in fondness. Thoughtfully, Will asked, “are you really gonna marry my mom?”

Just a few hours ago, the question had him sweating bullets and panicking. Now though, Hopper didn’t even flinch. Life or death scenarios put life into focus. “I want to,” came his confident response. It was the first time he had admitted it. “I really do.”

Will shyly looked down at his hands. “You should marry her.”

“You think so?” He let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “you’d be stuck with me forever.”

Will’s looked at him again. His eyes were watery, betraying his stoic expression. “I don’t know. It’d be cool to have a dad.”

Overwhelmed with love, Hopper’s own eyes watered. Will was keeping his emotions together though, so Hopper tried to as well. “It’d be cool to have a son.” At that, Will smiled.

***         Jonathan arrived the next day. He went right to his mother’s side with no hesitation and stayed there. An entire day passed by and still, her condition didn’t change much. On the third day, with him on one side, and Hopper on the other, Joyce was blanketed by their protective vibes. Nancy had taken Will and Eleven to get food, which left Jonathan and Hopper to brood in silence.

When the weight of the unsaid threatened to suffocate him, Hopper’s pained statement broke through the silence. “I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry.” He had Joyce’s lifeless hand clutched in his again. He needed her warm skin and strong pulse as a constant reminder that she was still alive. She was still breathing. She was still fighting.

From across the bed, Jonathan stared at him. His eyes were puffy and dark with circles and his pale features made them even more prominent. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Hopper confessed. “I was late. I was supposed to pick her up, but instead I told her to meet me. It wouldn’t have happened if not for me.” It was hard for him to keep looking at Jonathan. He so badly wanted to look away, but he forced his gaze to remain steady. He deserved to feel uncomfortable. He deserved whatever harsh words the young man would throw at him.

Jonathan hair was shorter now, so his furrowed brow was clearly visible. He didn’t say anything at first, as his mind thought long and hard about the situation. When he did speak, his voice was raspy and low. “It might still have happened, even if you were driving.” Jonathan broke the eye contact so that he could look at his mother’s monitors. “You could both be like this right now. Then what would we do?”

The idea had never crossed Hopper’s mind. It didn’t really alleviate his guilt, but the knowledge that Jonathan wasn’t angry at him gave his anxiety some relief. No one blamed him. No one, but himself. “I...I was supposed to protect her.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t. Not really.” With Jonathan, Hopper didn’t feel the need to constantly put on a strong front. Jonathan understood the harsh realities of the adult world. Hopper wasn’t worried about scarring him. “She might not wake up.” The rubber band holding his emotions together finally snapped and he let out a sob. “She might die, and I don’t know if I can do this without her.”

Tears filled Jonathan’s eyes as he watched Hopper break down. He didn’t have any words of comfort to offer. There was no magic phrase that would make it all go away. Instead, he let his head rest on the side of the bed and shut his eyes. He and Joyce were on eye level, and when he let his eyes fall open, he was met with her big brown eyes locked on his. Instantly, he sat up. “Mom? Mom, can you hear me?”

Jonathan’s words made Hopper look up and at the same time, Joyce’s hand tensed in his. He squeezed it, and she squeezed back right away. “Joyce?” Soon he was hovering over her, sweeping strands of hair away from her forehead. “Joyce?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth moved. No sounds came out and then, softly, she said, “Hop.”

Hopper’s face broke out into a wide grin and he brought her hand to his lips. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Mom.”

“Jonathan,” she whispered, before her exhausted body drifted off to sleep.

With tears dripping down his cheeks, Jonathan grinned in relief and then stood up. “I’m gonna get the doctor.”

Hopper let him go. He wasn’t about to move from her side. He never thought the sound of his name could make him so happy.

***         Joyce was only able to stay awake for short periods of time as her body struggled to heal from the trauma. In her alert periods, her kids filled her in on everything that she missed. And more. Over the next couple of days, she had a slew of visitors. On the rare occasion that Hopper left her side, he always made sure that someone was there with her. A week after the accident and one day after the surgery to set her broken wrist, Will and Eleven were by her side while Hopper ran an errand.

“You two are acting weird. What’s going on?” Eleven and Will shared a telling look that she didn’t miss. “Where’d Hopper go?”

“Nowhere, I mean, he’s around here somewhere,” Will poorly lied.

Eleven nudged him with her elbow and then added, “we can’t say.”

Joyce scrunched up her nose. The movement was painful, so she quickly stopped. “He’s around here somewhere, or you can’t say?”

Eleven smirked and then rested her head against Joyce’s shoulder. “It’s a secret.”

“We said no more secrets,” warned Joyce.

Will’s eyes widened. “No, mom. It’s nothing like that. Seriously. I mean it.”

“Seriously.” parroted Eleven.

Joyce wasn’t all that concerned. The pain medications made her loopy and her exhaustion was overwhelming. “Okay.” With her good hand, she grabbed Will’s arm and lovingly stroked it as her eyes fluttered.  

When her eyes closed for good, and they were sure that she was asleep, Will got Eleven’s attention. “Did he say when he’s gonna do it?”

“He said, soon.” Eleven sat up and poked her future brother in the back. “You suck at keeping secrets.”

Will quickly defended himself. “I suck? You’re the one who told her there was a secret.”

“Only because you were acting weird!”

“Jonathan says she’s too high to remember anything anyway.” They already affectionately bickered like siblings, making it official wasn’t going to change much in that regard, but they were both eager for it anyway.

Suddenly growing serious, Eleven face fell as she glanced back at Joyce. “She’ll say yes, right?”

Will instantly reassured her. “Definitely.” Contemplating things for a few minutes, Will then bit his lip and asked, “he’s for sure doing it, right?”

Switching roles, it was her turn to reassure him. “Yes. For sure.” Her smile was contagious. Soon, the same one was plastered across Will’s face.

***         A man on a mission, Hopper rushed into the station. Unfortunately, his presence didn’t go unnoticed by his secretary. “Hop! What are you doing here?” she chastised. “You’re supposed to be on family leave.” Skidding to a stop in front of her desk, he held up his hands in defense. “I am, I am.”

Out of habit, Flo stood up, ready to snatch a cigarette out of his mouth. However, she was forced to do a double take when she realized that he wasn’t smoking. “Finally kicked the habit?”

Hopper shrugged. For once, he wasn’t itching for a cigarette. “Can’t really smoke in the hospital.”

Smiling with pride, Flo patted his chest like a mother. “Good for you, Hopper.” He quickly rolled his eyes and then turned away to hide the way his lips curled into a smirk. “I’m just here to pick something up. I’ll be quick.”

 This time, he meant it. He didn’t linger to chat with the guys, grab coffee, or meander around. Instead, he went right to his office, shut the door, and unlocked his safe.

Hopper breathed a sigh of relief. The ring was still there, in a green velvet box, tucked under Eleven’s birth certificate. His heart thumped against his chest in nervous excitement as he scooped it up. Opening the box, he stole a glance at the antique diamond before tucking the box safely in his shirt pocket.

“Alright, I’m out of here, Flo,” he insisted, as he made his way back towards her desk. “Keep these boys in line for me.”

“Don’t worry about a thing here.” She shooed him away from her desk, taking note of the smile that hadn’t left his face.

“I owe you big time.” He was halfway to the door when she called out to him.

“Congratulations, Hop.”

Stunned, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “How’d you know?” Flo shot him a warm smile. “It’s written all over your face.”

Self-consciously, Hopper grazed his cheeks with his palm and then felt his pocket for the box. “Thanks, Flo.” 

He nodded in appreciation and then fled out the door. Confidently, he stepped out into the sun. He had a date to keep with his soon to be fiancée and he wouldn’t be late this time.

The End.

[spiidermiles-blog]

@boywebbed / 🕸

peter didn’t know what to do. he had lost track of miles earlier in the evening due to a fight that got a touch more heated than it probably should have…peter couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation. he knew it was unavoidable — he shared a relatively small amount of space with a teenager who had a temper that shouldn’t be tested. but peter had pushed him too far,  he had been asking about things he shouldn’t. about mysterio, about what had happened to him. things he should have waited for miles to be ready to talk about on his own & miles had left.

peter had waited for the younger of the two to return to his apartment. an hour had passed. then two hours. then three hours. when four hours had passed, anger headed faded into anxiety & his chest felt uncomfortably tight. he knew he was probably overthinking things — it had only been four hours. but that was four hours out alone, four hours where anything could have happened. after a call that went straight to voicemail, peter had thrown on his suit & headed out to try & find miles.

he was out all night with no sign of him — he had called miles again & again, every hour passed was another HORRIBLE possibility. he remembers what had happened last time he hadn’t been able to find miles — he remembered what chaos had been loosed upon the city they were sworn to protect. he didn’t think that would happen a second time — he hoped it wouldn’t happen a second time. still, fear took root in the pit of his chest. it grew uncomfortably around his ribs, constricting his breathing. when he finally returned home, it was exactly four thirty-eight in the morning. panic had sat in.

where had he gone? the thought played on repeat in his mind until — until — he was there. he was sitting on the couch. peter didn’t know when he had gotten home, not where he had been… but relief washes over him. he walks over to miles, pulling him in for a hug before he can think again. he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t irritated at miles’ sudden disappearance — miles was still a kid, whether he wanted to acknowledge that or not. if anything happened to him… well, peter didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

      “ miles —- ! i was so worried about you. “ he realizes he’s holding the other just a little too tightly. he doesn’t want to crush him only minutes after finding out that he was safe! “ i had no idea where you went & i just — please don’t do that again. i’m sorry. “

         🕸  HE HAD LEFT THE MOMENT HE FELT LIKE STRANGLING PETER. THE THOUGHT HAD SET HIM OFF TO VERBALLY LASH OUT BEFORE RUNNING OUT THE WINDOW   to escape the thought. to escape the possibility of hurting the one that let him stay in his apartment. the one that helped him through the mess that was his life at the moment. he couldn’t handle talking about that trauma. he hadn’t  wanted  to talk about it but peter had  PUSHED AND PUSHED   and he wanted to choke him out.

teeth grit as he made himself invisible, not wanting to be seen or followed by anyone   --  let alone peter. he needed to be alone right now. he needed to get  WHATEVER   was in his head outta his head. it was driving him nuts. a hour in he found himself hiding under a blanket of his school dorm room. he was thankful ganke wasn’t here, needing to be left alone as in fairness he was scared that he’d do if ganke caught him like this. so dangerous. so  mad. 

he’d wished more than anything to go out and patrol for the moment but he couldn’t handle the inevitable person to scream he was nearby, that he might hurt them like he had last time. he could feel the pit in his stomach emerge that he felt when it came to those accusations. they  . .  they were true now. he  had  hurt people in this city. in the city he had sworn to protect and there was nothing he could do to  FIX THAT.  

hiding his face in his hands as he tore off his mask, fists shaking and clenched as he pushed them against his face. he took  EVERYTHING   he had to stop tears from surfacing but in the end it failed as he ignored the first call that went to his phone, then the second and third  --  and so on. he hadn’t heard the other calls as everything in his head just got so overwhelming  -- from the fact he felt  terrible  about everything and everything and that he’d hurt people that he just  . .

shut down.

he didn’t move from his spot for  hours  as he kept his position, hiding his face and just a wreck, shaking and feeling sick to his stomach. he couldn’t recall things. he couldn’t recall for a few moments how he even  GOT   to this spot  (  when did he get to this roof  --  and when did he go invisible here too ??   )  and he couldn’t think straight as he ended up staring at his hands yet only made his disassociative episode a tiny bit worse without anyone with him. or anything really to ground himself on.

he sniffed, still feeling flighty as he managed through his phone to find the calls from peter and texts, rubbing at his face with the back of his wrist, exhausted. he needed to get back to the apartment.

picking himself up he put his mask back on, throwing a web up to get himself swinging, doing his best to stay  LUCID  of his situation, staying invisible the entire time. he didn’t remember getting back in, nor did he remember sitting down on the couch until  PETER CAME THROUGH THE WINDOW  ---  momentarily checking his surroundings with some surprised clarity and a couple of quick blinks.

he doesn’t have time to  ASK NOT TO BE TOUCHED  when peter rushes in for the hug, causing him to tense up and swallow hard, hands twitching as his   WHOLE BODY   felt like it was crawling for the moment. he forces his hands to grip the fabric of peter’s suit, hiding his face against the crook of peter’s neck some as he tried to calm himself.

he barely felt the  CRUSHING HUG  he was in but a mild discomfort for the fact he was  BEING TOUCHED  when he really didn’t want to be. he knew peter was worried, mostly, and felt calmer and more comfortable when he let go. miles glanced off to the side for a moment as his sluggish brain worked overtime to try and get a response going   ---  god he felt so foggy. rubbing at his face he breathed in slow and let it out shakily.

❝      it’s  . .  it’s good but  . .  w  . .  where . .      ❞ he trailed off, clenching eyes shut as he tried his hardest to get his thoughts together, to ground himself. without saying anything further he grabbed peter’s wrist, not activating his shooters but just  . .  as a grounding option even though his body   SCREAMED  for him to stop touching things. that he was uncomfortable.

❝      can’t focus.     ❞ he murmured, sounding so flighty as he spoke but was thankful he could get  THAT OUT  at least to alert peter something was up even though all he wanted to do was keep this   ---  the fact he was doing  terrible  quiet. 

[smollandtoll]

HC: The Beautiful Goalie Problem

First order of business: As this is the first Gabriel Landeskog/Tyson Barrie headcanon we are posting we thought you should all enjoy a PRIMER on why they are amazing. You should go explore their tag on AO3 if you are thirsty for more Tall Bossy Europeans banging Slightly Neurotic Canadians With A Sweet Tooth (do we have a type? We might have a type). Other than that you just need to know that Gabe is a Babe and Tyson is cute as a woodland creature. They flirt a lot.

Second order of business: How familiar are you with Lithuanian and sometimes San Jose Sharks Goalie and professional model Mantas Armalis? Here are some photos:

(PSA because we know literally nothing about Mantas Armalis other than that he is beautiful and unashamed of it, he’s a goalie, and he is Lithuanian - we’ve decided to characterize him as like genuinely sweet and secure in his masculinity but Straight)

Our HC starts like this, Armalis is playing for the Sharks (we don’t think he actually is right now), the Avs have a night out after an East coast game and manage to catch a Sharks game in progress at the bar.

We are jumping straight into a universe in which Tyson has a well-known mancrush on Gabe. It’s not even that different from reality, with the calling him a chiseled viking stallion and all. But this is a legit, slightly despairing crush that Tyson is actually pretty decent at dealing with and only occasionally pops its head up when Gabe’s hair looks particularly good or Avs media makes him write a Valentine’s Day card ffs. But Tyson is a fairly flirty guy, and has little to no filter, especially when he’s flustered so no one really takes him that seriously, especially not Gabe. It’s like the ongoing tradition of both complimenting and chirping Gabe is his trademarked ambiguously gay thing. As a gay dude in hockey that would pretty much have to be your specialty - that or utter awkward silence. But still, flirting is a two way street. We’re looking at you, Valentines writing, smiley-eyes giving, clap-backing GABE. But anyway - Tyson has been (casually, low-key, manageably) hung up on Gabe. UNTIL.

The second Tyson sees Armalis he’s just struck dead, eyes wide, beer forgotten in front of him.

“Sweet baby Jesus, I didn't know men could be that beautiful. Like he's making Gabe look like a cabbage patch kid.” He probably says it way too loud and garners the interest of everyone around them including Gabe who heard his name slandered and leans in to see what’s up.

"Gabe move your giant head, you're blocking the view of that beautiful man." Tyson doesn’t even notice the way everyone is looking at them with surprise and amusement mixed with confusion. It seemed to all of them that Tyson was a one beautiful man kind of man but apparently he could be swayed by even more impressive cheekbones.

No one has ever ‘trumped Gabe’s hotness’ before, and Gabe personally finds it pretty amusing at first, the way that Tyson is drooling openly about this other guy. But as the night wears on he gets kind of tired of hearing about how blue and piercing the goalie’s eyes are, how his lips are just so, so perfect. And he’s literally a model!  And an NHL player! Husband material right there.

It definitely goes on like that for a couple weeks, blooming into full crush territory, Tyson occasionally spouting about that beautiful goalie, how he even looks amazing behind a full face mask. The boys all tease him about about his ‘cali boyfriend’, and then continue teasing as he protest by only making increasingly ludicrous claims about Lithuanian goalie’s hotness and starts to turn redder and redder (as he is wont to do). One part of his embarrassment is because of the guys teasing him, and one part by his own blunderingly obvious crush. It’s like Great Wall of China sized by now, like you know when someone tells you to stop talking about something because you’re being annoying but you’re obsessed and you just physically can’t? That’s what he’s like.

The Boys: SO COLD TYS, YOU'RE SO LOVE EM AND LEAVE EM, JUST THE NEXT BEEFY EUROPEAN HUNK YOU CAN FIND, EH??? (towel snaps)

Meanwhile Gabe kind of sits in the wings and gets further and further wound up about it. He knows he’s irrationally fuming, it wasn’t like Tyson really meant anything about these comments, OR about the comments he’d always said about Gabe, but by now they were routine and comfortable. Also Gabe has definitely rarely encountered better looking men than himself, or at least men that other people would be more attracted to, so he’s really not used to the sensation of being sincerely jealous.

The tension in the locker room is probably palpable, Gabe would try SO HARD to laugh it off, "Haha, yes, we all knew about this giant crush Tyson had on me that I in no way reciprocated and that it has moved on to greener pastures, haha."

BUT HE RECIPROCATED HARD. Oh did he reciprocate. He was just waiting for the timing to be right you know?! With the season and all things were delicate and he didn’t want to screw anything up but they seemed to have been circling each other! They were getting closer and closer to some resolution to all the complicated feelings building between them - and BAM suddenly Tys is pining for this other guy? And he’s a world class hottie who would be lucky to have someone like Tyson being in love with them?????

Tys by now is like campaigning all of his contacts for guys that know him or are on the sharks so he can introduce/endearingly embarrass himself (also he’s a little bit self deprecatingly going for guys way out of his league (in his head) so they're unattainable and he can never have love because he doesn't believe he deserves love - like he knows he’s the funny sidekick type not the leading man type etc. and like it’s just safer to hardcore flirt with guys that would never even look at you than to actually try for something and maybe not get it).

Gabe has moved on from pasting uncomfortable smiles on his face and swallowing his jealousy to pasting uncomfortable smiles on his face and openly moping in heartbroken despair when he thinks no one is looking.

But Nate was looking, because Nate knew, Nate knew.  He has 100% been privy to all the times Gabe like took a too-drunk-off-his-ass-from-a-few-coolers Tys home and tenderly tucked him in and made sure he was comfy and not gonna vom -- ABOVE AND BEYOND CAP DUTIES GABE. Nate knows about your dirty Tyson loving secret.

So Gabe is moping hard as we already stated, and Tys is still frothing over another dude - and secretly he's relieved to have another crush, because the thing with Gabe was getting embarrassing for him, it was growing legs and starting not to be able to be just shrugged off. Other people were starting to notice that he was being a little too genuine with his comments with Gabe.

But it’s been long enough, Gabe is tired of moping and he wants to move on, he wants to find peace but he’s never going to find it without addressing his feelings and directly facing what is happening between them so what he gets all his feelings boiled down to sounds like:

I was reading into our friendship...seeing things that weren't there...like actual affection, and I was just a convenient piece of ass, I guess.

Still feeling hurt and upset about that, but still loving Tys, because he's a genuine dude - but also just trying to reconcile the things he's now hearing Tys blatantly say about this other guy - those things he used to awkwardly stifle when Gabe came into the room in his towel and shower sandals.

Gabe is HURT. Tys is in DENIAL/SELF LOATHING. Nate is so TIRED.

There would then have to be a lot of Nate like meddling/trying to get them to use their words. But, as it goes, anger/resentment would probably mix into the sludge of emotions and trigger Gabe back around to envy, making him posture and be Extra Babe™ and kind of torture Tys. Which, unfortunately, only makes him re-double his focus on Armalis.

But that, in turn probably makes Armalis notice Tys because he is legitimately so cute and also all these tweets about him are so flattering and sweet! And not-gay flirting is what Tys excels at, like he knows most of the dudes he flirts with aren’t gay, and he’s not gonna pressure them, but it’s just for fun and they like it cause he’s such a bro and everyone likes compliments right?

Anyway so Armalis responds - he flirts back! No harm in flirting! He's not actually gay but crushes are real! No reason to be rude! Maybe a photo! Maybe they could hang out!  

So it’s just a chill mild flirty friendship with the added bonus of maybe helping Tyson acclimatise to super hot euro dudes.

(The Sharks social media and the Avs social media have been exchanging eyeball emojis about all this and swapping DMs about trying to figure out how to use this friendship to a publicity advantage)

But then Armalis posts a couple of instagram selfies of them pre-game next time the sharks are in town. Cue Gabe losing his fucking MIND about it. At first he's like “BRB, I'm gonna go jump off the roof of the Pepsi Center.” but then he's like “....you know what? NO. THAT'S MY CHIPMUNK. YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM. I'M GOING TO BEAM ALL OF MY THOUSAND WATT VIKING SUN GOD FURY AT YOU MORTAL.”

But first there’s a lot of venting to long suffering Nate and probably whatever Swedish phone tree exists in the NHL (don’t tell us there’s not a Swedish phone tree, if there’s a Russian knitting circle there’s a Swedish phone tree).

Swedish group chat probably:

Horny: No sympathy, you gotta lock down your man

Karlsson:...haha!! he's so much better looking than you!!

Backstrom: please stop adding me to these things

Lundqvist: 😏🍆

So, probably, after he’s ranted a lot about it, the wind goes out of Gabe’s sails and he wilts hard and thinks he's lost his babe-aliciousness and gets real depressed about it, y’know that thundercloud disassociating in the locker room and feeling sorry for himself.

Tyson definitely notices that, and probably goes to Nate with a, "Woah wait WTF is happening with Gabe?" and Nate manfully resists beating his head into something concrete and replies with "Nice of you to notice you broke his heart there, bud"

Tyson: HOW? I NEVER HAD SAID HEART!

Nate: (withering look)

But also, Tys and Armalis have grown an Actual Friendship™ and Tys probably tells him all about what’s happening with Gabe, and just all about Gabe in general, and how he is like actually probably legitimately in love with him.

And Armalis with all the cliche wisdom of a usual hockey bro: You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, you know.

Tyson: are you quoting Gretzky at me?

Armalis: Go get your man already!

And then Tys has to dig Gabe out of his new den of sadness and candy wrappers and tell him he loves him and wants to tease him forever and have his giant headed babies and stuff. And like, that’s love, because think of the birth canal. Gabe: TYSON-

BONUS:

Tyson: (Dreamy sigh) what do you think lithuanian dirty talk sounds like

Nate: BRUTES.

Tyson: What?! Don't tell me you haven't watched Russian porn Nate, because I'd call you a LIAR.

[kitten-the-purrfectly-sfw-cat]

Imma do some of the agreg tags for fun!

What’s your regressed age/s?

6-8! yes yes I know the middle ground is 7 but mine are very precise!

How do you act?

Sleepy, happy, snuggly, sleepy, like a kitten, bat at toys, pounce on toys (preferably squishies), sleepy, curl up in the smallest ball possible, lick my hand and clean my head like a kitty, stretch, crawl bc cat, did I mention sleepy? Lol

What toys do you like?

ok ok I love stuffies dearly, b u t I play with my DS like three hours every night. I can’t stop, I l o v e Nintendogs X3

OH OH OH AND ALL MY PROJECTORS THAT MAKE SPACE AND STARS I LOVE LOVE THOSE

How do you talk?

Unlike when I was actually young, I don’t talk hardly at all. when I do it’s just my voice but higher pitched

Favorite food and drinks?

def hot chocolate, hot milk + honey + cinnamon (makes me so happy purr purr and sleepy! got that recipe from @lesbikitten <3 ), apple juice, and cookies. sadly cookies are my only regression food bc I have under eating problems and don’t like eating :c I will eat all the cookies though

Favorite activities?

Not many, actually! 90% of my regression is Nintendogs and cuddling stuffies until like 2 AM, kjzhsgjbv. I do like baths and watching movies!

Are you a dinosaur or space kid?

yes

Being so small, what do you need help with?

uhhh actually not much, i’m pretty stubborn and think I can do it! whatever it is

Why do you regress? (putting this under the cut for TW depression, anxiety, under eating, and a couple other things)

My mental health over the last four years has degraded, and this year crashed down hard. Instead of staying up til 2 AM being happy, I stayed up til 2 AM having horrible thoughts. My depression dragged into not just night time but day as well, I lost interest in everything that made me happy. At one point I ate so little for a couple weeks I dropped down to 96 pounds. Summer was horrible, the horrible thoughts got worse and worse and more frequent, my anxiety was through the roof, and so on. Thankfully, I went to a doctor and got diagnosed with severe MDD, GAD, SAD, but I have quite a bit of problems with under eating and disassociating, as well as being on the Autism spectrum, and finally I got on medication. September we suddenly needed to move, and everything crashed down. I have gotten over my fear of talking about this so I can happily say that I wear a hairtie as a bracelet, and the more fuzzy it gets, the longer I have been ok, at least in that sense, if you catch my drift

But I can also happily say that, soon after I moved, I discovered age regression and started regressing almost immediately. It helped so much. It helped me actually feel ok. Like there wasn’t this heavy rainstorm of everything I didn’t want to think about, it just wasn’t there. I started getting more into the community and regressing more and more, and now I do it most every night, and it has stopped 95% of those rainstorm type nights and improved my nights s e v e r l y. My bf bf has made this year tolerable, and although I didn’t talk about him in this, he means everything to me and I love him dearly. He has made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t and always stood by my side, and so so much more.

So all in all, thank you so much, Tumblr, for yet again changing my life for the better.

[saskhal]

On Division

After moving from Mexico to the United States, Elena began to lose her children to the American culture. Her worst fear is that she will not be there for her children when they need her most, because she cannot learn English. Vamos a pedirle dulces a mama. Vamos.They no longer need her. Elena slowly becomes dumb. If she doesn’t lock herself in the bathroom with her English book every day, she will become deaf.

           I wasn’t sure if it was because times are changing, or if the world was always so blocked off. People protest and rally for freedom in a place that claimed to already have it. After the nation had its first black president our idea of freedom was still not fulfilled. People are still divided in as many ways as water can be shaped. There will always be people who cannot adapt. There will always be people who cannot hear more than one thing.

           My parents have been separated for most of my life. I have only two short memories of my mother and father together. After my dad got full custody of my sister and I, my mother would ask me the same thing. What did I do wrong? She said it for years. All throughout junior high and high school. What can I do? sorry mom. We’ve told you many times what you did. She would cry either right before we left or right when she picked us up from our dad’s. I felt awkward. Tight and strained. I wasn’t a human anymore. Instead I was outside the car looking down through the windows and sort of through the roof of the car.  I was look at myself as I stared at the floor waiting until my mother would stop crying. Eventually it would just be me in that car. My sister no longer has a relationship with our mother. My sister and mother also divided. She grew stronger than me, but she never learned to forgive.

           Middle earth has always been harsh and unforgiving. Different species, races, even families clash. The One Ring is pure evil, and holds the ultimate power. Mankind easily gave in and became servants of evil. Trapped with and evil that cannot die. The Ulairi are covered in all black robes. The hoods are thick and shape the head of nothingness.

           I opened the door to my Nazgul’s lair. The young adult smell no longer exists; instead there is sweat and marijuana. The shadows felt more awake, because of all the trash and bottle caps. The bedsheets were navy and mint. The air was like winter, but smelt like summer. A small clutter of medicine was in the corner. It was purchased last night says the receipt. The cough he didn’t have must still be bothering him I bet. He is lost forever now. Divided from his family and his consciousness. Lost all his power of will.

           Tucson unified school district, in Arizona, had once realized that 50% of their Mexican-American students dropped out of school. They attempted to fix this by implementing ethnic studies classes. There was a huge improvement, and about 90% of the students enrolled in these classes graduated high school. Imagine being a student, and no longer feeling like your school system was trying to get you to drop out. In ethnic studies, students learn about their culture and others. Teaching values that allow unity between different cultures and idea.            The statistics were showing that marijuana was good for people and their health. It was legal and seemed like everyone was smoking it, even if they were under aged. I never had a problem with it. I never smoked. I had responsible friends who were going to college and always had better grades than me who drank and smoked, so why would it be such a big deal? 

         My Nazgul has had issues growing up, but he was the only one with substance abuse problems. His younger brother was doing good in school and even took harder classes. I spent the night at my grandparents one night. I couldn’t sleep. The alarm clock read 3:13 in black letters with a slimy green glow. The light was bright enough to hurt my eyes after I lowered the blanket from shielding my eyes. I heard the basement door shut. I could hear my grandma’s chanclas smack against her feet as she walked outside. I looked out the window and thought the same thing as I always do, why is the sky so bright even in the middle of the night? It was summer. And I was afraid of lights, because I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. I need darkness in my life, so I can rest.

           The sun was hot on my way to school. I dressed accordingly. The cool air came in and caused a storm which brought rain and wind. I was soaked walking home. If it is nature for opposites to fight and cause destruction, then it makes sense for humans to do the same.

           During the industrial era, feudal Japan wanted to become a more civilized nation and become a strong and united nation like many western countries. The Japanese Empire fought against smaller territories. When one battle was won, the rest of the losing side would accept their defeat and kill themselves, but Tom Cruise kept fighting. Accepting defeat was not part of his American culture. He learned more about his opposition while in captivity. He was one of the last samurai. The Last Samurai holds the bridge somewhere. What can bring one side and connect it to the other? Whatever it is, war is part of it. 

         It was in the late 2000′s when I played hockey against the Canadians. Tacoma versus Vancouver. We fought hard for 90 minutes. The temperature was freezing for obvious reasons. But our bodies were creating so much friction that we couldn’t keep cool. I had sweat that stung my eyeball like salty peppers. I sat on the bench for the first time in 15 minutes of nonstop moving. I saw the twinkling white lights as everything started to dim. One streak of lighting across my eyes after another until finally it stopped, and the world became bright again. This was just a game, but sticks were still broken. Skates sliced the slippery ice. Whistles blown and cracked like a whip. We even hunched over after our stomachs where smashed by a big hit. All this was for fun, but we fought only because we were on different teams. We shook hands and said good game afterwards, but we never shake hands before we battle.

           Even my younger cousin started feeling the quake of my Nazgul’s dysfunction. The Nazgul isn’t a bad person, it’s just that he trapped himself in this disassociated state, and now my younger cousin has to live amongst the hate and separation within his household. My cousin is having a harder time in school now. He is physically sick because of mental stress. Our battles hurt everyone not just ourselves.

           The Tucson districts abolished its ethnic studies classes because it divided children by their race. In class they read books based off communism that had ideals written by dictators and fascists. The children were taught that the American history was filled with bloodshed and hatred of other cultures. The politicians who helped ban these classes never even attended a class. And the one time they did, they did not listen to the positive and look for every opportunity to bring it down. The film Precious Knowledge was released in 2011 to inform people about the struggle in Arizona, and how media can totally manipulate what is true. Many other school districts followed the message and make their own ethnic studies classes to help educate kids, and even made it a required class. However, it wasn’t until August 2017 that the law was deemed unconstitutional by the supreme court and the Tucson unified school district was free to hold ethnic studies courses. 

         My grandma saw it one way and one way only. Weed is a drug and drugs are bad. They are a terrible way to “have fun” and will lead to worse drugs. Alcohol is bad. For the Nazgul at least. He cannot handle it, and everyone can see. But maybe she was right. As of now she is right. Evil cannot die. He is forever a servant of the dark lord.

           He believes that everything is someone else’s fault. He is in jail because we won’t bail him out. He believes that he doesn’t have to pay if he steals. He believes that downing cough syrup won’t have a bad consequence. Maybe he should fight the people who keep giving him more chances to make bigger mistakes, because it’s their fault for letting him out of that cell.

           People will always have a different stand on a subject. The good thing about conformity and socialization is that there is less conflict when everything is the same. The bad thing is that those who are different are viewed as sickly and handicap. An open mind helps people stay free. An open mind helps people work together. The reason we teach art majors calculus is because math helps with problem solving. People need to adapt and build bridges and roads. The only divider would ideally be something that connects those two things together.            The Ethnic/ Raza students at Tucson high were dangerous to some people. Those people did not want Latinos to be educated. They wanted to keep using second grade students of color data to know how many prisons they’ll need in the future. What makes a person want to shut down a program meant for all ethnicities and for all students? Why would a person think that students graduating school and enjoying education was a bad thing? The division of power was being threatened. New ideas where not accepted because order keeps us alive. We do not know what will happen if there is change.

           I learned that I cannot expect anything to change unless I was willing to lose something. I did not know what was going to happen to me when I started working at panda express. I could have worked at a company where I got money and never built any relationships with anyone and played the game safe. Instead I gave up my comfort and I was placed a workspace with people who cared about me. I gained confidence and could speak. I will volunteer to speak with younger people and hopefully they will be better than me. I can become a leader now. 

         I have been to a counselor before. The first few times it was required by law, because of my parents. The next time was because I wanted to. I wish I was diagnosed with something just so I had an excuse for being how I am, but I was never tested or went in for something like that. I looked up my problems on my own. I am not what people call antisocial, because that would mean I have no morals and I act against society and its laws. I am not avoidant because I do not like to be in my room by myself. I prefer to be with others, although I do act awkwardly at times and fear rejection. Maybe I just have rubatosis. I can always feel my heart. I ask around and everyone says they feel their heart too and it’s normal. But they don’t know what i’s like I’m sure.   

Jackson, P. (Director). (2001). The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.

 Mora, P. (1985). Elena.

 Palos, A. (Director). (2011). Precious Knowledge.

 Thorne, Craig R., and Richard R. DeBlassie. "Adolescent substance abuse." Adolescence 20.78 (1985): 335.

             Swartz, Marvin S., et al. "Violence and severe mental illness: the effects of substance abuse and nonadherence to medication." American journal of psychiatry 155.2 (1998): 226-231.

             Zwick, E. (Director). (2003). The Last Samurai. Warner Bros.

[sheencko]

mr. moreau

an unfinished scrap of a novel i am not sure ill continue

i can see it its a diamond with the crossroads its white borders from my cracked window up here

i ‘ave to get that fixed)—  just below the fog (the fog is low today)

—and its on top of the street that was just painted

oh yesterday or maybe the day before that

or something,

i think

black as my genevieve’s ‘air

two bodies crisscrossed atop of each other and splattered like paint on a black canvas, a pollack of angry reds and i cant see their face cause theyve been ravaged by the hard concrete and im so high up looking down like a dreamer into a field of rye and i shudder because oh, how painful is that but i also suppose,

when youre fallin i guess you only feel the woosh of the wind under you and maybe your soul leaves your body before your body breaks into a million teeny tiny pieces and everything inside you that youve ever dreamed flows out of you like a bucket tipping over onto a tile floor—maybe

maybe its a perpetual fear and youre trapped inside a perpetual cycle of mind numbing terror because youre falling to your doom and you regret that your feet left the edge in the first place and maybe, maybe you shoulda called your mom and then told her that you loved her one last time or apologized to the man that you bumped into while you were hurrying home yesterday and the tears are flying from your face ‘cause you can see them surrounding your grave wearin nothing but black and your father is silent but a kind of silent youve never seen before and in that second you can just SEE him taking the same path you are and then

maybe the fear grips your limbs like god coming down and punishing you but all you feel is a childish sort of aversion an “i dont wanna” cause you dont wanna—you dont wanna die cause you have so so much to live for and youre cryin to some big fat man up in the sky but whats he gonna do? he cant stop you

but i wouldn’ know but i took the elevator and went down to look at the scene anyway cause we’re all drawn to the misfortune of others anyway like nothing more than moths having an orgy on a blue flame

mr. steinway was next to me in the elevator; he lived on the 13th floor and i on the 12th i saw him smoking up on the roof sometimes. he was a gentleman by any other name, except the part where his wife left him cause hed been caught with a particularly young mistress but i suppose that didnt matter because he played ravel’s jeux d’eau like no one else in the world could and maybe he played her body like that homonymous six figure grand he has, who knows

his face was wrinkled and ugly but the melodies he played were smooth and beautiful so who cared about his damn visage i guess

“oh, mister moreau,” and for that matter, his voice wasnt particularly musical either

“steinway, are you heading down to see what happened?”

“arent we all,” he chuckled like the deaths were a funny little joke he had made up,

“i think i’ll stop by the grocery store”

“is that so?” he spoke like a conductor introducing a symphony to an ignorant audience and he was just trying to find a way to relive his days of performing inside carnegie hall’s stern auditorium because all he performed in now was his empty apartment, we around ‘im the unwilling listeners. he silently watched the floor numbers count down on the bar above the elevator doors 10 9 8 7 “i ‘aven’t been there lately.” he finally said like he had wondered how to talk without being offensive while still showing his pockets were full of gold.

dick, i thought 4 5

and waited and 2 1 and the doors opened.

our doorman greeted us. he was a fine fellow and i talked with him when it was too awkward for silence. he had a prized son about to head off to columbia on some scholarship or another and his younger daughter was expected to follow in his shoes. his mother was bedridden his dad dead and apparently he made a great deal of money working as a valet for the most expensive hotel in the city on the weekends. he liked the color orange and his ties were sometimes tied with a different knot because his daughter liked to practice on him. for lunch he preferred a simple tomato and mozzarella panini from the cafe a few blocks away but occasionally he partook in the pita bread and hummus that mrs. tomadakis on the fourth floor gave him and he always always despised it when someone moved the rug in front of the door. i didnt know his name.

“another suicide, huh?” he gave me a warm smile and mr. steinway a slightly cooler one

he said ‘another’ because it had been the eighth one this month and we were only fourteen days into it and silently, slowly we found ourselves heading towards a point of numb disassociation—when one person committed suicide it was all over the news like mr. steinway’s scandal and you learned their birthday, their name, their age,

every tiny detail of they had been, the sorrow of their friends and family,

and everything that happened between the day that they they came into the world and the day they left

and the people reacted with horror, the parents apologized to their kids and the kids to their parents, and the grief counselors opened their doors to those who had lost someone in a similar fashion and had to relive the memory through someone else’s eyes and maybe a wide-eyed girl holdin the blade to her small wrist told herself not today, not today

but of course, thats me being optimistic

sometime after the third suicide all that popped up was a name and a vague somethingorother reason they lit themselves on fire or shot themselves in the ‘ead or something and then a frown from the casters, maybe a tinge of sympathy entered their tone but then 10 seconds passed and they forgot because this was all part of a trend that would end. the people talked about the suicides in hushed tones but now the conservations were turning into a more questioning again? and a response of yeses and then it tended to be never discussed again because hey it didnt involve us anyhow

so the nameless bodies started to pile up one on top of each other and i knew the faces and names of maybe three or four but no more.

i nodded to him. “troubling,” i said, because what else could i say

“yes, definitely. my wife had me turn off the news last night because she was so… distressed at all the incidents lately” the doorman replied and there was a hint of something unknown when he said it. nonetheless he turned to the man next to me because his priorities were his own “I heard your playing the other day, mr. steinway. marvelous as always,” he said, voice turned slick because steinway gave good tips. he couldn’t hear anything from all the way on the 1st floor of course

mr. steinway looked chuffed, a prizewinning cock who fought with all the other roosters. “the debussy or the khachaturian?”

“the khachaturian, of course. i always find myself partial to the contemporary—“ the doorman said in an inviting tone to begin an conversation that would undoubtedly net him a few more dollars or maybe a lot more next week—

“interesting!” steinway murmured in that hushed tone since discussion of classical music was clearly some covert operation that no one was supposed to know about. i walked outside into the cool fall air knowing that they would be stuck there for a good ten minutes or more and noticed that the crowd around the two corpses in the middle was gone already and the first thing i wondered was not who they were but rather if dear genevieve had heard the news

there is a photographer standing by the bodies with her big old camera snap snap and she looks up and stares at me staring at her she stands up and i notice that the bottom of her pants have been scuffed by the road she smiles at me without dusting herself off,

“hello!” she was too cheery for the death in front of her “do you live here?” she is the only one out here and the world feels strangely empty

“yes, i” i pointed to the clean, modern building to the left “live just over there,”

she looked at me up and down up and down “you wouldn’t know these people would you?” no i wouldnt

“no” her face fell but then it rose again as she stuffed a card into my clammy hand and the bracelets on her hand jangled and she grinned at me with white teeth but the front two were crooked as if someone ‘ad taken a pair of pliers to them and her brown ‘air was messy, her skin lighter than mine—“i was just wondering since no one seems to know who they are” (she spoke in a rush like she was breathless) and i finally start to wonder indeed, who they are because even as corpses their hands are entwined together “i’m” and now that im down here i can see the fine details in their “photographer, i” faces and the one on the left has that dead fish look in their dark eyes and the eyes are wide open and theyre staring into “crime scenes” my very soul and i wonder if theyre blaming me for my being complicit in their deaths because i too heard the news and did nothing but “ive been in the news” my hands are shaking and i think i couldnt have done anything because i didnt know but something jabs me — a maybe i did know because i too heard the news and passed by disinterested “but i also do” and im staring back at them and theyre staring back at me in a staring contest that i know i will lose “family portraits, anything you need basically” and the one on the rights eyes are closed and the part of their face that isnt all burst open and spilling onto the floor has a tender charm and their lips are fixed in what seems like a peaceful smile but im thinking no there is no way that could be peaceful and oh “call the number if” their ‘ands are all so small if i could just have grabbed those before they jumped maybe id be staring at an empty black canvas instead of a grotesque exhibit of all that we ‘ave done wrong

work title:

artist:

medium: human on concrete