#so basically hes loop but Worse somehow.

[snickeringdragon]

OH ALSO UNRELATED TO THE LAST POST. been fucking around with a self insert au with my friends in which we replace the cast. i did an... edit? redraw? traced redraw? of the drawing kid doodle with them ^_^

theres nobody missing. trust me.

nobody at all.

[codacheetah]

I keep thinking of how I want to taxonomize Siffrin and Loop bc it feels significant to me that Loop and Siffrin both have inherently diverged from the same Traveler Mold they came from. But because I am like a 7 year old I keep sagely nodding to myself going "ah yes... just like mega mewtwo"

[starlitmelanin]

ᡣ𐭩ྀི birthday blues; t.alexander-arnold

pairing - trent x varsity!fem!reader

word count - 2.9k

warnings - none

summary - you’re stressed out about trent’s birthday, because what on earth do you get a man who already has everything?

it's not like you can just roll up with a box of chocolates and call it a day. this man's used to the best of the best, and while he's never made you feel like you weren't enough or didn't fit into his world, the reality is you're still a varsity student, still trying to stretch your monthly budget to cover textbooks, takeout, and the occasional night out with your girls.

and trent? well, trent can have anything he wants, whenever he wants. you've watched him casually browse designer websites like he's scrolling through twitter, picking out shoes that cost more than your rent with a kind of nonchalance that makes your head spin.

so, no, a simple birthday card from the campus bookstore isn't going to cut it. this is your first birthday together as a couple — you've got to make it special.

but how?

like, you've been lying in bed for hours now, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through shopping websites, pinterest, and even resorting to typing "what to get your rich boyfriend for his birthday" into google. nothing is helping. in fact, everything's making it worse. because even though you've got a list of ideas in your notes app, none of them seem to match up to the weight of what you feel this gift should be.

"babe, you don't have to go all out," trent had said during a conversation you had with him earlier in the week, flashing you that pretty smile that somehow makes everything feel like it'll be fine. "whatever you get me, i'm gonna love it. i'm just happy to spend the day with you."

but that's the thing, though. you want to go all out. he deserves it. even if he's not asking for it, you know he would never say anything if you just showed up with something basic—but it would eat away at you. you'd remember it every year.

so, yeah, no pressure or anything. just your sanity slowly slipping away as the days inch closer to his birthday and you still have no clue what to do.

your friends have been no help either. a bunch of suggestions that are either way too expensive or feel way too impersonal. "just get him something sentimental," one of them had said, but you're not even sure what counts as sentimental when you've only been dating for a few months.

like, are you supposed to pull some dramatic pinterest diy project out of nowhere? is that your lane now? because you're not crafty. you're not about to break out the arts and crafts just to end up frustrated and glue-stained.

you're definitely overthinking this, and you know it, but you can't stop. you keep picturing the day itself. like, what if you get him something and he likes it but doesn't love it? what if he's too polite to say it but deep down, he's thinking, "wow, she really couldn't put more effort into this?"

it doesn't help that every time you bring up his birthday, trent just brushes it off like it's no big deal. "it's just another day," he says, shrugging, but you know it's more than that. his birthday is a big deal to you because he's a big deal to you.

you can't let this flop.

days are passing by faster than you'd like, and you still haven't made any progress. now it's the weekend before his birthday, and you're sitting on the floor of your apartment, surrounded by discarded ideas. you've gone from designer cologne (too basic) to a surprise trip (too expensive) to planning a cute dinner night in (too... ordinary?).

it's gotten to the point where you're spiralling. full-on stress mode. you're overthinking everything, imagining how disappointed he might be, how awkward the whole thing could feel, and for what? he hasn't said anything that makes you think he's expecting something grand, but it's like your brain is running on a loop, replaying worst-case scenarios.

you're deep in your thoughts when your phone buzzes. it's trent. a simple text.

trent: wanna come over?

you sigh, conflicted. on one hand, you'd love to see him and spend the day wrapped up in each other like you usually do, but on the other hand, you feel like you should be using every spare second to figure this gift thing out. but it's trent, and maybe seeing him will take your mind off the stress for a bit. so, you grab your keys and head out.

when you get to his place, trent's already waiting for you at the door, looking casual as ever in sweats and a hoodie. he greets you with a grin that immediately makes some of the tension in your shoulders ease up. you can't help but smile back, even though the stress is still simmering in the back of your mind.

he pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he mumbles, "missed you."

"you saw me yesterday," you laugh softly, burying your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. it's the same cologne you thought about getting him for his birthday, but now that you're here with him, it feels too safe, too... expected.

"still missed you," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look at you. "you okay?"

God, how does he always know?

"yeah," you lie, but it's not convincing. trent raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but he doesn't press. instead, he just leads you inside, hand slipping into yours like it always does.

you spend the afternoon curled up on the couch, watching some random show neither of you are really paying attention to. trent's arm is draped over your shoulders, his fingers occasionally brushing against your arm, but your mind keeps drifting. keeps thinking about the damn gift.

it's not until he asks, "you sure you're alright?" that you realise you've been quiet for too long.

you glance up at him, debating whether or not to just tell him. you don't want to admit how stressed you've been about something that probably seems insignificant to him. but trent's looking at you with that soft, patient expression, and before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

"it's just... your birthday," you mumble, picking at the hem of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. "i wanna get you something special, but i don't know what to get you. you have everything already."

there's a pause, and for a moment, you worry you've said too much. but then you hear him laugh. not in a mean way, but in that gentle, amused way he does when you've overcomplicated something in your head.

"babe," he says softly, cupping your chin and turning your face so you're looking at him. "you don't have to stress over that. i don't need anything fancy or expensive. i just wanna spend time with you."

you feel your chest tighten a little because, logically, you know he's right. but still... it's his first birthday with you. it feels like it should be more.

"i know," you mumble, eyes flicking away from his. "but i just want it to be perfect."

"it will be," he promises, leaning down to steal a kiss. "because you'll be there."

and maybe that's all that matters, but still...

—

the next couple of days are a blur.

classes, assignments, and late-night scrolling sessions trying to figure out the perfect present. you've moved past the point of practicality. now, you're grasping at straws. googling things like "unique gifts for the man who has everything" and getting absolutely nowhere. your notes app is full of crossed-out ideas, your stress level rising with each passing day.

by the time thursday rolls around, you're a full-on wreck. trent's birthday is next monday, and the thought of showing up with something underwhelming—or worse, empty-handed—has you on edge. you've always been the type to put pressure on yourself, to want everything to be just right, especially when it comes to people you care about. and trent? well, trent's at the top of that list now, no question.

it randomly hits you at 2:19 in the morning, that spark of inspiration you were so desperate for, the puzzle pieces of your chaotic brain finally starting to click into place. and as you brush your teeth before class a few hours later, you replay the idea in your mind.

you obviously still need to work out the details, but at least you have direction now. no more over-the-top ideas. nothing that screams, "i tried too hard." instead, you're going for something more personal, something that shows trent how much you've been paying attention to the small things.

because, really, that's what this relationship has been about for you—finding beauty in the details. sure, trent's life is loud and flashy, but what you've learned in the past few months is that it's the quiet moments, the ones where it's just the two of you, that really matter.

like the nights where you read him your biochem thesis because you want a second opinion (and, bless him, he never understands a thing). or the mornings where you wake up tangled in his sheets, 15 minutes late for whatever morning class you have. or the late-night talks where he opens up in ways you know he doesn't do with most people.

that's what you want to capture. that's what his birthday should reflect.

the rest of the week passes in a blur, a whirlwind of classes, your part-time job, and late-night planning sessions. every free moment you get, you're jotting down notes, sketching ideas, making phone calls, and somehow managing to keep all of this hidden from trent. it's not easy—he's nosy as hell, always asking what you're up to, but you've gotten good at playing it off, keeping him in the dark just enough to maintain the element of surprise.

you've already set everything in motion. well, mostly. there are still a few loose ends to tie up, but it's all coming together in a way that feels right.

on the morning of his birthday, you both settle on a time that works—right after your last class and after he's done with training. by the time he gets to your place that evening, you're all giddy, eyes beaming as you open the door for him.

and he's instantly on you, arms smoothly slipping around your waist, pulling you to him just as you close the door. he leans down, pressing his lips to your exposed shoulder — gentle, lingering kisses, his breath warm against your skin. "hi, baby."

"trent..." you murmur, trying to sound disapproving because you can almost guess where this is going, but failing miserably. it comes out softer than you intended, more like an invitation than a scolding.

he hums against your skin, his lips brushing the curve of your neck now, his hands tightening just a bit on your waist, pressing your back to his front. "hmm?"

his lips move to your jawline next, and you reach back with one hand, tangling your fingers in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. he takes the hint, pressing more kisses along the side of your face now, trailing up to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

"so pretty," trent turns you around slowly, his hands still on your waist, guiding you until you're facing him. his eyes are dark, a little playful, but there's something else there too—something softer, deeper.

you barely have time to register that look before his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. it's not hurried or frantic, but there's an urgency to it, and you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands clutching his shirt, your body leaning into his. it's instinctual now, the way your whole being responds to him.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathing a little heavier, trent rests his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. there's a lazy smile on his lips, the kind that makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

"wait, you're distracting me," you laugh quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "i have a surprise for you."

he smiles, his lips brushing against your forehead now. "yeah?"

you nod, grinning as you lead him over to the living room, where you've set everything up. on the coffee table, there's a small collection of items: a few handwritten letters, a disposable camera, and a small, leather-bound journal.

trent raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the table, clearly intrigued but not sure what to expect.

"so, i know you don't need anything," you start, your voice suddenly a little shaky as you sit down beside him. "and i didn't wanna get you something you could just buy yourself. so... i thought about what would mean the most to you. and, well... this is what i came up with."

you hand him the journal first, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your stomach as he unties the string and carefully opens it.

the pages are filled with handwritten notes, photos, and little mementos from your time together so far. it's not just a scrapbook or a diary; it's a love letter. every page is a piece of your relationship — the silly inside jokes, the photos of the two of you at your favourite café, the pressed flowers from the first bouquet he ever gave you, the ticket stubs from the movie you saw on your second date. it's a collection of memories, a reminder of how far you've come in such a short time.

it's quiet for a while, the only sound being the soft rustle of paper as he turns the pages. you watch him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction, but his face is unreadable.

finally, he reaches the last page—a note you wrote, a few simple words; happy birthday, trent. thank you for being you. thank you for seeing me. i love you.

he's quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the words, thumb tracing over the ink. when he finally looks up, there's this... softness in his eyes, a depth of emotion you don't always see from him.

"this is perfect," he sets the journal aside and pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. "thank you, baby."

you feel a wave of relief wash over you, but you're not done yet. next, you hand him the disposable camera.

"i know you're used to having a million pictures taken of you all the time, but... i thought it might be nice to have something just for us. we can take pictures whenever, wherever. and at the end of the roll, we'll get them developed and see what moments we've captured."

trent turns the camera over in his hands, a warm, appreciative smile gracing his lips. "this is... yeah, this is really thoughtful. i didn't expect this."

and finally, you hand him the letters. "these are from the people closest to you. i asked them to write you something personal, something that shows how much you mean to them."

he looks up at you, his eyes soft, a mix of gratitude and something deeper reflecting in them. "you really went all out for this, didn't you?"

you shrug, feeling a little shy now that everything's out in the open. "i just wanted you to feel appreciated. i didn't want to get you something that didn't mean anything."

trent's quiet for a moment, just looking at you, and then he sets everything aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

"you're amazing," he says, his voice all soft and thick with emotion. "seriously. this is the best gift i've ever had."

you feel the tension drain from your body as you bury your face in his chest, a smile spreading across your lips because, yeah. all the stress, all the overthinking, it was worth it.

"i love you," trent pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your cheek as he looks down at you. "more than i even know how to say."

your heart stutters at that. you've both danced around the words for a while now, neither of you wanting to rush into saying them, but hearing him say it now, in this moment, feels right.

"i love you too," you whisper, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer, your lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss.

when you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours again, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "best birthday i've had," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your cheek, and you laugh softly, your heart full.

"i'm glad," you say, smiling as you snuggle closer to him, his arms wrapping around you like a safety net. "but it's not over yet."

he raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh? what else do you have planned?"

you grin, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze. "i figured we'd spend the rest of the night doing... whatever you want."

trent chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "whatever i want, huh?"

"yep," you nod, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. "you're the birthday boy, after all."

"careful," he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "i might hold you to that."

and he does hold you to it.

all night long.

[grlsinterrupted]

i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y’know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way. 

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party. 

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.” 

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.  

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier. 

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered. 

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar. 

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier. 

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?” 

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger. 

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier. 

“Why did you leave?” 

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t. 

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.” 

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it. 

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken. 

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.” 

We would never break up. 

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.  

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?” 

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.  

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?” 

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.  

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s. 

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class. 

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.  

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.” 

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again. 

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–” 

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug. 

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong? 

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for. 

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you. 

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away. 

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.  

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you. 

Steve was different and he always would be. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover. 

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell. 

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you. 

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.” 

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in. 

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.” 

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.” 

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”  

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”  

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground. 

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you. 

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried. 

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[llamaisllama777]

TSAMS THEORY: THEY'RE ALL THE SAME//TIMELOOP THEORY!

Okay, you read the title. This is probably the CRAZIEST theory I've come up with up, but please let me explain.

Okay, so in this episode of The Sun and Moon show

Dark Sun visits Foxy and is trying to help him solve his F.c. problem. This was when F.C. got that red box in his chest that absorbs negative star power, and Foxy had no idea what to do, and "Sun" shows up to offer him some support and help... ya, that's not Sun, as you can probably imagine it's Dark Sun. Dark Sun, if I remember correctly, is basically telling Foxy to get rid of the kid cause he's too dangerous, and off course, Foxy tells him no. Dark Sun make some interesting comments that got me thinking. Dark Sun kept asking hypothetical questions like: If you could go back in time and redo everything the exact same way... would you?

Kept asking time related hypotheticals, and even after 7 months, my mind does wander back to this episode and what Dark Sun said.

Someone in the comments of this video asked "Wait is Dark Sun implying they're all stuck in a timeloop and only he knows?" And that BLEW MY MIND!

It does explain a lot of things about Dark Sun

How he seems to know how everything is gonna play out

How confident he is

How smart he is

It's cause he's been through ALL this before.

He's seen it all before

He's experienced it all before

And he's learned from it all.

There is a VERY popular fan theory that Dark Sun is actually OUR Sun just from the future!

I do think that theory is true... but allow me to add to it.

DARK SUN IS SUN FROM A PREVIOUS TIMELINE

The theory is that every time THIS world ends, it gets reset (Kinda like Undertale), and everything happens all over again, maybe with one or two small differences, so it's not an exact copy but a close enough one. Dark Sun was a Sun who we know snapped and fought back against his Moon, killed him, and stole his intelligence... is what I would say if that was true. It was later revealed that Dark Sun lied about killing his Moon. We see his Moon barely alive in a cell where Ruin then puts him out of his misery. Ruin calls Dark Sun out on his lies, and Dark Sun just kinda brushes it off. He lied! He lied about killing his Moon! So, if he didn't get his intelligence, then where'd he get it? Dark Sun didn't steal it he gained it through experience. Dark Sun somehow found out he and his WHOLE WORLD IS TRAPPED IN A TIMELOOP! He probably freaked out about that for a while till he began to wonder if he could change the future, change his fate. So, he does. He becomes Dark Sun after many attempts and many timeloops and finally breaks free from the loop, but he realizes he's free, but the loop isn't over. It's still going. Just now, he's a watcher. He's on the outside looking in. He watches the loops play out over and over and over again, and it just keeps getting WORSE! Moon is still being an abusive butt to Sun, Sun still barely has anyone to support him, and they are still constantly messed with by people like Eclipse, BloodMoon, The Creator, The Astrals. It NEVER ends! Oh, sure, sometimes the loop is merciful. Maybe it gives Sun a new sibling to care for him or a new friend or heck, maybe even a kid... but it's still the same shtick! Sun even dies in some terrible ways in some of these loops! Or the siblings turn rouge and become evil. Dark Sun decided enough was enough and decided to try and break the loop once and for all, but in order to do so, he needs to intervene. He needs to start making things go his way. Pushing Nexus further to the dark side, putting things into place so Sun will lose his support system, and make it so the next few loops will have the Suns coming up on top. Basically, altering the timeloops so Sun doesn't die in 95% percent of them and instead Moon dies. (What's been happening in the show currently) Dark Sun is trying to make our Sun like him cause he believes he can't break the loop, so if you can't break it... change it. He's trying to turn Sun into another him because Dark Sun thinks becoming like him is the only way to break the loop. He's trying to make all Suns like him cause he believes he can help them.

So, that's Dark Sun's part of this.... how does Emperor Lunar and President Earth come into play?

Well, if the timeloop theory is correct, then you see what I'm saying, right? President Earth and Emperor Lunar ARE our Lunar and Earth! Just from different timelines. They're like Dark Sun sort of. They know about the loops but aren't really doing anything to intervene. Maybe they are, and we just aren't seeing it? Who knows?

Now, you might be saying Llama, Emperor Lunar, President Earth, and Dark Sun are from another dimension... not timeline... well... do we know that for sure? I mean, they say it's other universes.... but... dimensional travel is a tricky thing. Who's to say Moon when he built the portal didn't accidentally poke a hole through? Plus, other dimensions and alternate timelines are a term that's pretty interchangeable. So, what we think is an alternate dimension is actually a alternate timeline, part of a the loop.

Basically, what I'm saying is that Moon's portal is actually going in a giant circle poking through the past timelines and wrapping back around to ours and poking through ours to future ones.

Tl;DR The whole show is stuck in a timeloop, and Dark Sun, Evil Earth, and Evil Lunar are OUR Sun, Lunar, and Earth just from a previous loop and Dark Sun is trying to save all other Suns by messing with the timelines so they'll become like him and break free from the loop.

Does this theory have a lot of holes... yes. But gosh dang! Wouldn't that be something! Plus, I can see something like this happening in the show.

But hey that's just a theory...

A TSAMS THEORY!

Thanks for reading!

[stuffyflowers]

follow up to the bad driving post from yesterday. explanations under cut also feel free to argue with me lol

So basically top left = characters who drive badly but not in a way that will cause a crash, top right = characters who are actually all things considered good at driving, bottom left = characters who should not be behind the wheel ever, bottom right = characters who are good drivers in theory/most of the time, but certain factors can make them become car crash material.

Dalv: In my mind, Dalv is the most cautious and safe driver ever, to the point where he loops back around to being a shit driver. You do not want to get stuck in a lane behind this guy he will not go even CLOSE to the speed limit. He will probably let you through when he has right of way. etc etc. Ig on the bright side he doesnt get into enough situations where a car crash could really occur? yay?

El Bailador: Kind of guy who drives windows down music blaring probably speeding slightly at all times but somehow has never had anything bad happen to him. he is being protected by higher powers because he is sooooooo nice and cool :)

Ace: Ridicules all his friends for being bad drivers then actually gets behind the wheel and he sucks almost as bad. Yk, given how his whole thing in the Wild East is facepalming at the five's antics while arguably being worse than a lot of them in that regard. Why are you encouraging a child to gamble. Why are you tormenting blackjack with mooch. Whats his problem

Edward: Okay I didnt really know where to put Ed.. Hes in a weird situation where,, i think his biggest problem would be finding a car thats actually suited to him. Like how he wants to play the guitar but his hands are too big to actually play any of the ones they have. After that though, I think he'd be pretty good, at least decent! He does have some anger issues to deal with (beat up blembino that one time lol) that could cause problems but hes working on it :)

Moray: Pretty self explanatory. The most normal feisty five member. Probably their designated driver 90% of the time. The only reason theyre not completely top is bc their one weakness is whilst they ARE the voice of reason, they do ultimately go along w the group most of the time even if they feel whats happening is wrong. Maybe picks up on the five's bad habits a bit? Overall still a trustworthy pick for driver i think.

Flowey: Ok.do not take this too seriously..............Ik he doesnt have feet for th pedals but consider. Its funny. He can use his vines trust me (also even if he cant physically drive i feel like he'd have a really good understanding of driving. guy who has read every book is bound to have useless knowledge on topics that arent at all relevant to him. and you cant crash the car if youre not driving i guess!!!!!!!!!! but also. funny.)

Ceroba: Similar case as Ed. Actually good at driving but holy fuck the road rage. I feel she'd be worse at responding to it than him bc she has so little self respect. very "I will kill us both😳" attitude abt tailgating and shit like that. Usually better at keeping it in when shes driving with someone else.

Martlet: Maybe she should be furthest down bc she is the only one to canonically crash a vehicle…, Idk I feel like she’d be sliiiightly better w a car where her focus has to be constantly checked, she cant get distracted while filling in questionnaires with clover if she’s driving. That being said she is still. Yeah.

Mooch: similar to mart. Just cannot see her being a good driver. Sorry girl </3

Starlo: starlo.

Axis: faceplanted right in the center bc hes a wild card to me. Would he have insufferable road rage? Would he actually be pretty chill and responsible? Can he even drive if his foot is a singular wheel? Who knows.

[homestuckreplay]

turntechGnostic? gardenGodhead?

(page 381-387)

Dave is a cool guy, yknow? A cool dude whose default face is complete neutrality, who doesn't show emotions besides anger, the only acceptable feeling for men. If he's feeling something positive, he'll show it with a nod of the head or a twinkle of the sunglasses, not-

HEY. WHAT'S THAT SMILE ON YOUR FACE, COOL GUY????

What's fun about meeting Dave is that we get to see him talk to all three of his friends in pretty quick succession, while with John it was far more spaced out. Dave loves John so much but I think he kind of talks down to him, and with Rose, it's the witty banter of equals. With GG, Dave is the one who seems lost in the conversation. GG throws Dave for a loop multiple times, and also blatantly makes fun of him with 'bro! hehehe' and 'feeling cool today? mr cool guy?' I didn't expect Dave to like this, and it's not obvious in the conversation that he does, but that tiny smile kinda says it all. I can honestly see these two becoming my favorite dynamic of the four main characters.

We get more GG lore too! They have a 'goofy' fetch modus which I'm super curious about. It turns out they have a granddad who's a big presence in their life, not a sister. They also have a pet who TG refers to as a 'devilbeast', and who is hard to feed and can overpower GG. Could be an unruly, badly trained dog, or perhaps GG lives on a farm and this is some kind of farm animal? Or an exotic pet their grandad attempted to tame (since he's apparently a 'total badass') but who shouldn't really be kept as a pet.

Also GG might have some psychic powers, or at least believe that they do. Which definitely puts their earlier conversations with John in a new light - instead of urging him to get the package now because they're excited to see his reaction, which is what I originally assumed, they're just emphasizing how important the package is, so that he'll know opening it is a priority if and when he finds it later.

The TG lore we get is.... less delightful. He mends his window with gaffa tape, which makes it objectively less functional as a window, definitely can't help with the heat, and doesn't even cover up the full hole. Like, just put a poster over it. More effective for less effort. Also his 'takedown' of monster movie tropes on p.386 is identical to 'guy who hates musicals because people sing in them' and is just exhausting to read. Also he thinks a white puppet ventriloquist rapper is the coolest shit ever, which is inexcusable. Basically, he needs to hang out with GG more so that they can chill him out and make him more tolerable.

I missed John so much. I've been thinking for a couple days about how I miss John, and here he is! The oil in his room has gotten significantly worse compared to p.253, which is a shame, because John is a fairly neat and clean kid when his sylladex isn't totally ruining his life.

But I guess this little harlequin beastie doesn't care about that? I love this thing's design, it's so fun. It looks so angry but somehow so incapable of causing any real harm that isn't oil based. What a silly hat for something that wants to be intimidating so bad. This will probably confirm to John once and for all that clowns are bad.

We've seen a couple other jet black, #000000 creatures so far. The Wayward Vagabond, linked from p.271, has smaller and rounder eyes but the same clawed hands. And the members of the Midnight Crew, seen on p.328-331, are visibly shinier (including their clothes?) with no visible teeth, but the rightmost two have those same elongated horizontal white eyes. Notably, all of these characters wear distinctive headgear. They all have really different roles in the story, so this could just be a shorthand for characters outside of the main four and their families, but it would be cool if some or all of them were connected.

[bangrychannie]

Stray Kids Fic Recs-Demons

Hello! It is time for another group of fic recs, this time anything related to demons (ex. succubi and former "imaginary friends")! Demon summoning is one of my fav tropes so again if you have any recs that aren't on this list send them my way! Mostly Minsung with some others

My other fic rec lists:

Misc

Time Loop

Angst free

let me wrap the chains by saru (Minsung | 1/1 | 23,164 | explicit)

Pressure at the foot of the bed makes the mattress dip, and Jisung experiences what can only be described as waking up into a dream. His brain, foggy with short-lived and restless sleep, registers a number of things that might not make total sense but are received as facts, regardless: there’s a hand tugging at the waistband of his underwear, a pair of knees bracketing his own, and the distinct smell of fire in the air. In the darkness of his room, ruby red eyes trail up Jisung’s body before locking on his own. — or, Jisung’s late-night visitor turns out to not be quite as imaginary as he originally thought.

I love the world building in this one!

amber of ember by adisadatra (Minsung | 1/1 | 21,941 | Explicit)

Minho is tired. He’s so, so tired, and he’s felt unsafe in his own life since the day he discovered Seojoon and his lover in his bed. At work, in Minho’s flat, at his favourite park with the hideous fountain, he’s always listening for footsteps behind him, braced for impact and seeing danger everywhere with his nerves feeling peeled raw. He’s spiralling downward, he knows he is, and he’s not even sure what’s real anymore. Making a deal with a demon isn’t the worst-case scenario right now.

I loved this one! Basically Minho has a creepy ex and makes a deal with a demon (Jisung) to get revenge

above the trees by tentoheaven (Binsung | 1/1 | 30,245 | Explicit)

Changbin stares at him, still struggling to take in all of his features. It’s incredible how someone can look so different, yet still completely unchanged. “Jisung?” Part of him still holds onto the belief that the man will frown, maybe laugh mockingly, maybe ask ‘who the fuck is Jisung?’ and leave. Changbin isn’t sure whether that would be worse than the alternative. (Or: ten years after his abrupt disappearance, Changbin’s imaginary friend barges back into his life—not human, but very much real.)

I loved Changbin and Jisung's dynamic in this one! Minor 2min as well which is super cute

god knows we're lonely souls by flying_dream (Minchan | 3/3 | 34,864 | Mature)

Chan is a touch-starved producer. Minho is a sleep paralysis demon who has never known affection. They're not in love - they barely even know each other - but somehow they manage to make it work.

This is for sure my favorite on this list, if you only read one read this one!

exception has been thrown by the target of an invocation by yamesungie (Minsung | 1/1 | 4862 | Explicit)

format-default : Exception has been thrown by the target of an invocation. “What the fuck do you mean, invocation? Am I coding or playing D&D? Do I have to roll a d20? Do a blood offering?” “Invocation is another term for a method call, you can thank me later.” “Hey, I was joking, I already-” knew that. Wait, what the- Jisung lets out a blood curdling scream and almost falls out of his chair as he turns his face away from his screen. The man standing next to him stares at him, arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. “What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” "I feed off humans' lust, anguish and despair. It’s only natural I choose to target software developers past their bedtime, right?" (or: Jisung is a software developer on the verge of a mental breakdown, Minho is the incubus who visits him at 1am.)

Super silly concept and a short and sweet fic

How I Met My Demon by alcrox (Jeongsung | 1/1 | 17,447 | Explicit)

“Well, to my utter surprise, no demons were summoned,” proclaims Jisung dramatically. Now that the shooting is nearing its end, he feels decidedly more chipper. Less faking it. “Fuck you too, demons.” He swipes a broad hand over the glitter, messing it up even more. It looks like there has been a bloodbath in the room, only the blood is shiny and glittery and sticks everywhere. “Now-” “I swear to hell, what is your problem?” Jisung jumps. Violently.

5 times Jisung summons a demon and 1 time he doesn’t.

Where Jisung is a youtuber and summons a demon as a joke. Love this one!!

And that's all I have for demon fics! Like I said before if you have any (or any other fic I haven't recced yet) that you've liked that aren't on this list please send! My next ideas for fic rec lists are fantasy, fake dating, and college au--if you want me to do one of these first also lmk!

[jennycalendar]

back to btvs blogging to fix my brain a little i wanna talk about why jenny/ethan would function like calendiles except more insane and probably worse.

first off -- @ethanrayne was the one who fully converted me to how excellent the notion of bisexual ethan is, simply because ethan sharing the same desires and inclinations as giles and pivoting to the exact opposite end of the spectrum creates this excellently absurd warped mirror where they're both somehow overcompensating. trying to distance themselves from something and furious at this person who is able to inhabit this aspect of themselves that they themselves find abhorrent. giles could date men but he doesn't and won't because it's wrong so OBVIOUSLY he is going to live in a constant state of rigorous self-flagellation and boxed-in misery. ethan could date women but he doesn't and won't because then he's living within the confines of the system so CLEARLY the only path forward is to embrace selfish reckless hedonism. see what i'm saying here???

moving towards jenny/ethan with that in mind: i think ethan overlaps in key ways with both jenny and giles enough that he and jenny would get along OUTRAGEOUSLY well under particularly specific sets of circumstances. jenny and ethan both have a thirst for adventure (it's why giles likes them!) which means that they would both very likely have a hell of a lot of fun doing all the crazy party things that giles inevitably draws the line at. (the man does have limits.) they're both playful, flirtatious, sarcastic, and absolute unmitigated disasters who think they're cooler and more capable than they actually are. on that level alone they would get along really well.

BUT ALSO: ethan and giles are super similar in that they are so so mired in a decision they made in their early twenties and so resistant to change! despite ethan talking all the big talk about being freer than giles and more honest than giles, he is playing a very specific role just the same as giles is. he refuses to ever be there or be real. he would, i think, so easily see jenny as ripper's tiresome attempt at heterosexuality, as that's what fits most easily into his extremely limited concept of who giles is, and then actually meeting her and seeing her with giles and realizing that this is someone gorgeous, smart, funny, & completely in the loop re: giles's sordid history -- choosing to be with him not Because Of ripper or In Spite Of ripper but because she loves the whole complete man -- ethan would try and play mind games with jenny and she'd decimate him with her pinky finger and he would have that same moment as giles where it's like. i underestimated you SO thoroughly. i am at your mercy.

& ethan and giles are ALSO super similar in that we see them both in a romantic connection (giles with jenny, ethan with giles) where they are basically begging to be kicked around. jenny likes kicking people around. there is a very clear thing that could happen here.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - (Just if a little more than a) Friendship

day 17 @youngroyals-events tack<3

Simon is someone Wille regularly breaks rules for. (A just if for a minute flashback.)

read below or on ao3 (T, 2.3k)

It was odd, really, that moving into a small, barely two-bedroom apartment with Simon would be so much harder than the dorms had ever been. Their dorm room was at least a quarter of the size, only a handful of meters separating their beds, and Wille had handled it just fine. Perhaps it was the fact that their room was so small, so they usually opted to spend their time elsewhere, lounging in the common room or studying in the campus coffee shop. Perhaps it was that the first year of university was such a whirlwind, so Wille didn’t have as much time to anguish over his undying and unrequited love for his best friend. 

In their new apartment, it only took one week for Wille to realize this was going to be a very big problem. He already had a long list of rules for avoiding accidentally exposing said undying, unrequited love to Simon, but mostly for keeping himself sane. In the last week, he’d scribbled down about fifteen more rules into his ratty notebook. 

#36 Don’t stand in the kitchen while Simon is making breakfast. Too domestic! #41 Invest in an aircon unit? Hot summer + No AC = Shirtless Simon = DANGEROUS #43 Simon likes to sing in the shower. Somehow so much better worse than hearing his normal singing. Buy noise-canceling headphones ASAP!

Considering the hell Wille had been through already, he was in dire need of a distraction. Preferably a non-Simon shaped distraction. There was a party going on at their friends’ house across town tonight, and Wille had a plan.

His plan went to shit pretty quickly because Simon exited his room wearing a tight little shirt and baggy pants, one perfect inch of brown skin peaking through across his midriff. Another curse of the hot summer, and of Simon’s new personal mission to expand on his fashion choices. Wille was already crafting a strongly-worded text message to Maddie for encouraging Simon to buy that crop top.

“You ready?” Simon asked, unaware of the crisis he was causing in Wille, retrieving his keys and clipping the carabiner on a belt loop.

When Wille didn’t answer, Simon looked over his shoulder at him, then smiled, “You look nice.”

Wille glanced self-consciously down at his own, very basic outfit. If either of them were going to pull tonight, it would surely be Simon.

“Thanks. You, too,” he mumbled, trying to hide his blush by heading to the front door. “Let’s go.”

On the walk over, Wille managed to pull himself together. Chatting with Simon loosened him up and reminded him that he could be in love with Simon as long as he ignored it, because Simon was very fun to be around, and he did not want to ruin what they had. What they had was a wonderful friendship built over many years, and keeping that alive was very important to Wille, no matter his own personal dealings.

By the time they made it to the house party, they were both laughing loudly at each other, the result of some ridiculous joke they’d carried on way too long, and Wille had almost completely forgotten Simon was wearing a crop top. (Except, not really, because as they approached the front door, Simon threw his arm around Wille’s shoulder, causing the shirt to ride up a bit further, which was totally fine.)

Simon didn’t even knock, the pounding music inside an invitation enough, just opened the door and pulled Wille right inside. Not three steps in, they were greeted by one of the hosts.

“Simme!” Ayub shouted, bringing Simon into a big bear hug and causing him to release his grip on Wille. “What took you guys so long? Wille! Get over here!”

Wille, too, was pulled into a big hug, then they were both shooed off towards the kitchen where all the drinks were being stored. They ran into a few more friends along the way: Henry and Alex, wrapped up in a tense game of beer pong; Maddie and Rosh, intertwined on the dancefloor. Maddie yelled over the music to compliment Simon on his shirt, and he laughed wildly, tugging Wille the rest of the way into the kitchen. Inside, they found Felice and Sara, who immediately offered up drinks.

The rest of the night passed in a blissful blur of dim lights and sweet drinks and Simon’s laughter. Though it seemed everyone in the place noticed Simon as he walked by, glowing in the colored lamps, Simon never spared anyone else a second glance, nor did he stray far from Wille’s side. All through the evening, they hovered near each other, likely out of habit for Simon. He knew Wille sometimes got a little anxious in larger crowds, so Simon was probably doing so to keep an eye on him. It was very sweet of him, but Wille almost wished he wouldn’t, because Wille didn’t actually get nervous in big crowds; it was Simon that made him nervous.

As the drinks flowed and the music amped up, Wille relaxed further, and so did Simon. Their group of friends migrated to the dance floor and everyone smushed together, sweaty and out of breath, but oh-so-carefree in that way that’s only possible when you’re three drinks deep and young enough to still be able to ignore the problems of the world for a little while.

Wille danced with Felice, and then Maddie, until eventually, inevitably, he and Simon swung back into each other’s orbit.

Simon’s shirt had ridden up further and his hair, damp with sweat, was curlier than usual, almost reminiscent of when he’d just gotten out of the shower. His smile split his face in the most beautiful way, and he looked so joyous, and he took Wille’s hand, pulling him closer and spinning him to the music.

They danced close, mostly innocent, shouting the lyrics to every song and giggling when they fell into each other. Wille was so happy, in enough of a limbo that he could pretend he and Simon were more than just best friends.

Sometime after 2am, once things had mellowed out and people began to collapse onto the couches or the floor, he and Simon each chugged a water bottle, then tumbled back onto the street.

It wasn’t too long of a walk home, and the night was cool, and they had each other, so they wandered down the streets, still giddy from all the dancing and joking with their friends. Simon insisted he knew the way and wouldn’t hear otherwise. Wille let him lead them down a few streets, very much going the wrong way, then he managed to corral them back in the right direction. It took them twice as long than it should’ve to get home, but they were having such a wonderful time and neither of them had anything to do the next day, so it was fine.

An extra perk was that Simon got touchy after one or two drinks. They were already pretty physical with each other — even when Wille had the wherewithal to follow his rules — but they’d been touching pretty much the whole way home. Simon’s arm around Wille’s waist, or Simon’s hand in his. Neither of them were that intoxicated, they’d both stopped drinking hours ago, but something about the night lowered the walls on both of them.

(Wille was sure that, if he wasn’t so conscious of their touching and often extracting himself from Simon’s grip to avoid doing something stupid, Simon would be touchy like this all the time. As much as it had pained him to realize that, it was important to Wille to limit their physical contact, because it meant a lot more to Wille than it did to Simon.)

Shushing each other and smothering giggles the whole way up the stairs, they eventually made it back through the front door of their apartment. Simon complained about being hungry and Wille noticed his stomach felt rather empty, too, so they raided their cabinets for the few snacks they’d accumulated since they’d moved in.

“She was staring at you the whole night, Wilhelm,” Simon sighed, flopping back into the couch and sending a few pieces of popcorn scattering around him.

Wille rolled his eyes and settled down next to him. “Sure.”

“She was!”

“I’m not really interested in her, anyway.”

“Ugh! You’re so boring!”

Wille laughed and jostled Simon for his dramatics.

“What about that guy Ben, though?” Wille teased, diverting the conversation.

Simon groaned and waved his hands wildly, as if swatting away the suggestion. “No way. He looks too much like you.”

“Hey!” Wille gasped, then reached out for a handful of popcorn and chucked it at Simon.

Simon laughed wildly, swatting away the kernels and pouncing onto Wille. The bowl fell to the floor and spilled across the hardwood (thankfully, they hadn’t bought a rug yet). His hands found Wille’s wrists, trying and failing to get them under his control, but Wille had quite a few inches on Simon and easily fought back. They cursed at each other, with no real bite, wrestling for the upper hand and half giggling through insults.

Wille had fallen back to lay flat on the cushions, but thanks to his size was not disadvantaged because of it. He was about to win when he realized Simon had somehow ended up straddled over him, knees bracketing Wille’s hips into the couch. In the realization, he hesitated, and Simon used that pause in resistance to pin Wille’s wrists to the couch, too.

“Ha!” he burst out, “I win!”

He was looking down at Wille with a proud grin, though it quickly faded as he, too, seemed to notice their position.

Wille had imagined this a million times, Simon hovering over him, wide eyed, eyes flickering across Wille’s face. But, no amount of daydreams could’ve prepared him for the real moment.

Simon’s eyes flickered down to Wille’s lips, then he inched down slightly, and Wille sucked in a breath. His brain was a loud battle of two very differing sides.

Please do. Please don’t. Please do. Please, Simon.

Whether he read it in Wille’s eyes, or was simply caught up in the moment, Simon surged the rest of the way down and connected their lips in a searing kiss. Immediately, Wille kissed him back and pushed against his restraints. Simon released his wrists, hands tangling into Wille’s hair instead, and Wille brought his newly freed hands around to cup the back of Simon’s neck, to pull him closer.

They’d kissed before, under circumstances very similar to this. In the late night, in the dark, just the two of them. It always ended the same. Wille knew this time wouldn’t be any different, but he’d take what he could get.

Hands roved from twisting into hair, down to grip waists and press fingertips into hip bones. Simon moaned softly into his mouth when Wille nipped at his bottom lip, and Wille savored the sound, knowing it would be a long while before he got to hear again. He licked into Simon’s mouth, tasting his cherry chapstick, the sweet liquor from shots earlier that night, the coke he’d been drinking for the last hour of the party. Every gasp, every breathy moan he was able to pull from Simon spurred him further, pulling out every skill he’d ever learned so that Simon would never stop kissing him.

Simon’s hips remained hovering, leaving a good space between their groins, which was probably for the best because Simon did not need to know how Wille was feeling after a few minutes of kissing. Was it a few minutes? Wille wasn’t sure. It could’ve been an hour, he didn’t want to think about it because there was a time limit on this sort of thing, a line that couldn’t be passed if they wanted to remain friends. If he didn’t pay attention to the time, maybe Simon wouldn’t either and they could just—

Abruptly, Simon pulled back and scrambled off Wille, toppling onto the floor. Pieces of popcorn crunched loudly under him as he fell, replacing the loud sounds of their kissing.

Wille coughed awkwardly, “Are you okay?”

Simon stared up at him with wide eyes, still frozen on the floor, then rushed to climb to his feet, brushing the popcorn from his pants. “Y—yeah. I just— I’m gonna go to bed.”

As quickly as he’d leaned down to kiss Wille, Simon was spinning around and bolting to his bedroom.

Wille struggled to breathe through the crushing sensation in his chest.

He knew exactly what was going to happen, and yet he let it happen anyway, and would continue to let it happen because this was Simon and even if he couldn’t have him for real, he’d have him like this. In stolen moments, at the end of long nights, even for a moment. Maybe that made him a horrible person, maybe it made him a coward. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, because despite the fact that he could barely breath, despite the fact that Simon had taken Wille’s heart with him when he’d fled, Wille would do it over and over again. To taste him, to hear him, to feel him like that, a glimpse of a different version of them, in some other lifetime where Wille was braver and Simon wasn’t just his best friend.

After some amount of time, Wille managed to sit up off the couch and wander back to his own, empty, cold bed.

The next morning, he lingered in his room as long as he could until his stomach protested strong enough to force him out to the kitchen. Simon was already out there, standing by the stove, frying eggs. He gestured to the coffee pot and told Wille to help himself, like everything was normal. When they sat down together for breakfast, the only acknowledgement of the night before was a casual joke from Simon about the crushed popcorn on their living room floor.

[fic-tional-fiend]

Stress Reliever

MY FIRST POST HI LMAO I'm not super familiar with Tumblr yet so pls be patient with me :,)

WARNINGS: swearing, smut Word Count: 1,962 The nagging tension Carl felt throughout his body was quite common now, but feeling the same cramps and aches in every one of his muscles every damn night was getting old. And after making an especially long, and rather anxiety inducing run earlier that day, it somehow became that much worse. Nearly getting bit, no matter how many close calls there've been, never got any less terrifying. He forced his legs to carry him up the stairs after hastily finishing dinner with Michonne and his dad, the old floorboards moaning under his weight at each step. 

   Carl's legs threatened to give way beneath him, and the irritation only grew hotter in the back of his mind as he tripped over the last step. He stumbled his way down the hall, and into his room before shutting the door behind him and kicking off his boots. He carefully unraveled the bandage that covered his missing eye, rolled it up and set it on the bedside table. Then grabbing his hat, he tossed it onto his dresser, and let himself flop onto the bed with a light bounce.

   Carl took a slow, deep breath in, rolled over onto his back and let the tightness in his muscles fade as he let out a long sigh. He sat up to tug his flannel off of his tired shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a muffled thud. Lifting a hand up, he dragged it down his face. He still felt sticky from sweating off the relentless heat of the summer day, his shirt uncomfortably sticking to his back, and only then did a shower come to mind. He thought about it for a moment and looked over to the door, light leaking in from the space underneath it. He debated whether he had enough energy to drag himself down the hall to the bathroom, but begrudgingly turned his head to face the wall instead and tried not to think about how filthy he likely was. 

   He reached down to the belt around his waist, undoing the buckle and sliding it through the loops of his jeans. It clattered to the ground with his pants and t-shirt following shortly after. He stared at the textured wall just a few inches from his face, studying the small bumps and hollows that were randomly scattered under the plain beige color that painted his room. The weight in his eyelids seemed to become heavier with each passing moment, and he let them shut as he pulled his sheets up over his waist. Letting out a long breath, he rolled himself onto his stomach and slid his arms under the flattened pillow beneath his head, burying the side of his face into the fabric.

   The silence lingering in the air was somewhat soothing, only broken by his own quiet breaths. But his mind was still racing as it replayed everything that happened that day. Out of everything, the anger at himself for bringing back so little was what kept him stirring. His dad, Rick, had finally trusted him enough to go on a run on his own for the first time, and he basically blew it. He had only managed to scrape together a few rags, and a dirty stuffed giraffe that he thought Judith might take a liking to. 

   He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, convinced that if he just kept his eyes shut then sleep would eventually come to him. But the frustration was only serving to wake up his exhausted brain more. In defeat, he came to terms with the fact that no matter how tired his body felt, his mind wasn't going to stop working anytime soon. He groaned and sat himself up to reach for the small lamp on the table and turned it on with a click. He squinted and he felt his eye begin to water as it adjusted to the sudden light. He then got up to walk to his dresser and kneeled down to open the bottom drawer, rummaging through the dozens of comics he had haphazardly tossed in there after reading them. He sat there looking through each of them in turn, trying to decide which one he could tolerate reading for what had to be the millionth time. He kept moving them one by one, none of them catching his eye for more than a few seconds. Ultimately he gave up and just sat back down, giving himself a mental note to start looking for more comics if he had extra time on his next run.

   He shut off the light and laid back down, settling one arm under his head and lightly toying with the hem of his boxers with the other. He couldn't stop fidgeting, bouncing one foot constantly, his eyes scanning the ceiling back and forth, his brain going over every little detail of the run, he could practically feel his whole body vibrating. His skin felt like it ached against anything that touched it. Somehow the harder he tried to relax, the more his own body resisted. Carl forced himself to sit still, and focused his thoughts on controlling his breathing. He vaguely remembered something his mom had taught him years ago, something about controlling his breaths, and how bringing more oxygen to the brain promotes clearer thinking. "Breathe in for three, out for five," or something along those lines. 

   He kept at it for as long as his patience would allow, counting each second in his head, retaining control of each slow breath he took, but his mind wouldn't cease it's wandering. This time however, it had come up with what might be a solution, or at least a way to get himself to relax or pass the time. It had been a long while since he had felt the need to do so, let alone tried to. He usually fell directly to sleep when he was in his room, and if he didn't, he was usually either too angry, too anxious or too depressed to even think about it. 'Well I don't really have any better ideas,' he thought with a half-assed eyeroll.

   The idea of self pleasuring wasn't foreign to him. Carl had experimented with touching himself on a few occasions, and had awkwardly sat through that portion of "the talk" after his dad had walked in on him trying to relieve some stress one morning. He knew this was a typical thing people did in their spare time, especially young men around his age. And he knew that he could feel himself getting pent up and irritable if we went too long without that relief, but it always felt like more of a chore and less of something to do for fun. 

   Carl hesitated for a moment before he reached down between his legs and palmed himself through his boxers, gently massaging himself. Slowly he slid his hand under the elastic band and gently gripped his soft shaft. He gave himself a light squeeze then continued with a few experimental pumps of his fist, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to form a decent rhythm. He let himself relax as his imagination began to roam. His mind wandered around to anything he could think of that might get him hard, the women he had seen in the magazines he's read, the dirty things he used to overhear Ron talk about, but his thoughts kept trailing back to Enid, the only girl his age around. He liked Enid just fine, he didn't have any negative feelings for her, but she didn't seem quite that interested in any of the people in Alexandria, much less the kids her age. That suited Carl just fine, he wasn't a huge talker anyway, he was more of a "people watcher" as his dad called it. He liked to observe those around him; watch what they did and how they acted, how they moved and how they carried themselves. Like the way Enid's hips swayed when she walked by, that in particular always caught his eye. 

He adjusted his grip slightly and kept slowly pumping until he felt himself twitch rhythmically in his hand as his erection began to grow. He sighed at the feeling and he suddenly wondered why he didn't do this more often. His expression softened and he felt himself begin to relax as he let himself give in to the pleasant sensations. A few quiet moans escaped him as he propped up his leg, but then paused for a moment to slide his boxers down his hips just far enough for his now fully hard cock to pop out. 

   He sat up on his elbow and spat into his right hand before getting back to his rhythm. Every few strokes he would use his thumb to play with the tip and smear the small amount of precum around the head. Carl began to pant as he picked up his pace, closing his eye and letting his head fall back. His wavy brown locks pooled around his shoulders and he could only partially bite back a moan when he continuously tightened his grip, his hips bucking up into his hand. Every pump felt like it sent electricity from the tip of his dick, all the way up his spine and into his foggy brain. He hissed through clenched teeth when he wasn't cursing under his breath, only focusing on the feeling that was overtaking his entire body. For just a short time, there were no more sore muscles or aching joints from long days, only this, only the pleasure shooting its way through every nerve and settling in his stomach. 

   The coil in his groin was making itself known, and the intensity was quickly becoming overwhelming. Nothing else was in this boy's brain as he jerked himself off, the only thing he could think was "just a little more, just a little more". All of it was too much but somehow not enough at the same time, he couldn't get enough of it. The desperation for his release was becoming unbearable, and he was struggling to keep himself quiet. The moans he tried so hard to keep inside were making their way out, in short, quiet bursts. Carl took deep breaths to try to calm himself and hopefully make himself last longer, but the result was only dizzying himself further into a spiral of hormones. But suddenly he just couldn't bring himself to care anymore. His arm slid out from under him and he bit down onto his knuckle when the coil in his belly finally snapped. 

   White hot pleasure shot through him and he tensed as a groan ripped its way out from his throat. He was sure he tasted blood for a moment as he bit down harder in attempts to keep quiet. Spurt after spurt of his cum splattered onto his bare chest and stomach as he rode out his high, his eye squeezed shut and his mind went completely blank. Then all of his muscles relaxed and he gave himself one last firm squeeze in attempts to milk everything he could out of the feeling. A few more drops of cum dripped down his softening shaft, and the utter euphoria left him feeling more than satisfied after ignoring his needs for so long. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed, and sleep suddenly felt like a possibility again. He lazily pulled up his boxers and he let his eye stay shut, ready and waiting for the long restorative rest he desired. He raised a hand to rub at his chest and stopped when he felt something sticky. He looked down to see ropes of his drying cum plastering to his skin. “Shit..”

[ashyjingles]

Who is the raeken

THEO RAEKEN FROM TEEN WOLF AKA ONE OF THE SADDEST BITCHES IVE EVER SEEEEEN

(tbh with the way u like jason grave i have a feeling u might like theo too actually)

okay so massive spoiler warning if you ever do plan on watching teen wolf everything is under the cut just in case

OKAY SO (i could be so wrong about some of this stuff btw i haven't actually finished the show)

theo raeken had some sort of heart condition as a kid so when he was 8 or 9 these evil scientists showed up in his dreams/house and told him he could live a normal healthy life because his sister (who was about a year older than him) actually wanted to give him her heart!! all he had to do was bring her to a bridge over a very cold river/creek/stream in the middle of winter and watch as she froze to death in it. (i'm unsure if it was him or the evil doctors that pushed her in there, but he did watch her die and did nothing to save her) (he later defended his actions by saying he still believed santa at the time and didn't know she would actually die from it but he's a known manipulative little shit) and then he basically got a heart transplant after that

anyways the evil scientist doctors (called the dread doctors) then used science to turn him into an off brand werewolf through many very questionable processes that probably didn't include anesthetic. vivisection! woo!

anyways he grew up with them in the sewers for nearly a decade while the doctors experimented on other science-natural teenagers but none of them actually lived and were labeled "failures" but somehow theo? the first experiment? was successful all those years. so. anyways that happened until they decided to start their big massive project that would basically make theo useless

so naturally theo took on his own big project that involved taking down the main protagonist of the series through lots of manipulation and seeming like a helpful good mostly normal 17/18 year old boy just to turn around and kill one of them (who was resurrected like 5 minutes later so it doesn't count) and lots more betraying and leaving for dead involving other people. honestly it's a miracle there was so little death surrounding him in this era

anyways when that didn't work he resurrected some of the failures and basically went along the lines of "i saved you so i own you now" and then killed some of them for real. and then the main protagonists needed a way to stop him so they sent him to what was basicallyyyy hell (i think before this he helped killing the doctors?? i'm not sure i haven't actually watched that bit. the doctors are dead at this point in time tho)

anyways in hell his sister routinely chased him through a hospital and ripped his heart out in this fucked up time loop. imagine sisyphus but worse. fields of punishment type deal. (very popular quote where he tells her "you don't have to stop" while he's like fucking coughing up blood or something)

anyways because of another big bad the protagonists were facing one of them decided to pull him out of hell (his name is liam and they are very commonly shipped together. there are some rumors they were meant to be canon in the show but weren't) and basically decided to label theo as his responsibility but their relationship was very punchy for a long while

anyways theo goes through a lot of shit and despite previously very clearly only caring for himself he lowkey contradicts everything he says ("im not dying for you!"-theo "im not dying for you either! but i will... fight with you"-liam (and then theo proceeds to throw himself directly into the line of fire to save liam the lying liar)) (would also like to note the place they are at for this era is the hospital and theo very clearly is Not Okay with the reminders of his time in hell. traumatized bitch. i love him my little murderous meow meow.)

anyways they leave on not quite good terms but no longer murderous terms and theo lives in his truck for a while because the doctors are dead and he can't go back to sewers so he's effectively homeless.

anyways the guy he Kind Of Killed But Not Really then calls and says hey!! liam (the person who sort of tolerates him in exchange for help) needs help!! can you help him!!! and for whatever reason despite several months between the last big bad and this big bad theo still hasn't skipped town so he does in fact go help liam. and lots of scenes that set him on the path to a redemption arc (plus a better relationship with liam)

and then. that's the end of the show. i will now attach sad and bleeding pictures of my murderous little meow meow to sway you toward feeling affection for him

and then the smug/evil look because he's not very vocal about being sad okay he's actually an intolerable little shit most of the time and that's why i love him

pinterest give me better photos of him damnit half of these are ass

we call his short hair his hedgehog hair and it's a very large indicator that he's evil thank you

can you see why i like him please tell me you see why i like him

pspsps i can give a much better and more detailed (and sadder) description if u want but i feel like this covers the basics

[captain-mj]

Hey u got anything for backrooms and the bois?

pls and thank you

So I cannot find any proof of this but I swear there used to be a way of getting into the backrooms where basically if you're very depressed/dissociative you can walk directly into it without the no clipping, but I cannot find it. Regardless, that's used here.

By the way, from Soap's pov. If I make a pt 2, it’ll be from Ghost’s

~~~~

Soap was with the 141 and Los Vaqueros the day it happened. He watched Ghost look through the room they were in quietly. Everyone was there. Everyone was watching.

That's what he thought of every day since it happened. Everyone was watching. He wasn't crazy.

Ghost had stepped away, still in sight. Price gave them instructions. Ghost went ahead. He turned around a corner.

Everyone saw him go around that corner. Soap was two steps behind. Ghost went out of sight. Soap should've seen him on the second step.

He was gone. The hallway was completely straight after that corner. Yellow walls with harsh yellow lights. No windows. No doors. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Soap remembered staring at it before screaming Ghost's name. Suddenly, he didn't really care if they were overheard. Everyone had freaked out when they heard him. Were even more freaked out when they saw why.

Six hours.

Six hours he searched that entire building. The hallway led to a room and it looped around, the entire building shaped a bit like an O. A giant fucking circle that he could walk until his feet bled and it still wouldn't lead him to Ghost again.

It replayed in his head. The brief second before Ghost turned away. He had looked at Johnny. Something had been bothering him that day, but Soap had decided to wait until they were home at base to ask. Maybe Ghost would've stayed closer to him or Price. They would've seen something.

He really wished he had asked. Had told Ghost to wait up. Ghost got annoyed when he did that, but he'd still be there. Still be...

Instead of wherever he was.

It didn't make sense.

After the third hour, Price had given them permission to start ripping up floorboards and bash in the walls. The building was going to abandoned anyway.

Fucking nothing.

No secret rooms.

No secret passages.

Ghost was good. But even he couldn't just vanish. He couldn't have moved fast enough.

Price had started calling for him. He clicked on his radio and kept calling. Feedback was all he got for the efforts.

Soap was seconds away from falling apart every step of the way. The wrong push and he thinks he'd start screaming again.

They searched the surrounding area, but that was even more pointless. Soap knew something... wrong had happened. Something unnatural. But he had no way to explain it.

Price made phone calls while Gaz torched the building. That wasn't protocol. Maybe Captain hoped Ghost would come out with some explanation.

Soap hadn't slept much.

If Ghost had died, he accepted it would hurt. Hurt like fucking hell. Crush him to dust.

Somehow, this was worse. The not knowing.

Where the fuck could Ghost be?

It had been two weeks since that incident. They had been put on leave for a while. Price was worried about everyone. Reasonably so.

Alejandro had been oddly quiet about the whole thing. According to Rodolfo, he had been in contact with some officials he knew, but he didn't tell Rudy. Rodolfo admitted to Soap he didn't feel as hurt as he probably should. He told Soap he knew there was something else here. Something else to this disappearance that made him unsettled.

Soap wondered if he was having nightmares too.

Had to 've he supposed. Soap didn't sleep enough for him.

Ghost's room had been cleaned out after 3 days of being MIA. Just 3. Like the man didn't fucking matter.

Soap had grabbed his knives and one of his masks. Kept one of the former under his pillow and the latter always nearby.

It didn't smell like Ghost anymore.

Gaz slept on his floor some nights. He appreciated it until Gaz admitted he was worried by being alone, he'd disappear too. Or that Soap would. Soap laid on the floor with him that night.

Maybe it was stupid. To be so worked up about this. But even Price had been effected. Soap noticed him no longer working in his office. Always out in common rooms where someone could see him.

Soap sighed and closed his eyes to try sleeping.

Click.

His eyes flew back open. "Gaz?"

"You heard it too?"

Soap sat up slowly, looking at his radio. He left it on their channel. Didn't make sense to anymore honestly.

"Think its picking something up? Feedback or some radio station?" Gaz sat up, staring at it.

"Is there anyone there?" Ghost sounded... tired. So very, very tired. But there.

Soap took a deep breath and reached over, pressing the button. "Simon?"

"Johnny? Where am I?"

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.225 thoughts

[Apocalypse Now]

(Topics: narrative analysis - Julia vs. Apocalypse, character analysis - Luck/Death/Julia/Juiz, thematic analysis - legacy)

Julia vs. Apocalypse

Huh. Somehow Apocalypse becoming a giant two-tongued monster wasn't enough to tip me off that he was going to be an enemy this time around, but god damn if the idea of him being Julia's opponent isn't sick as hell

Julia vs. Apocalypse is honestly such a great concept with how close we've seen Apocalypse was with Juiz. The current expectation seems to be that we'll get to see the early loops and more of Juiz and Victor's interactions, which I believe as well, but I'd also like to get some closure for Apocalypse as well. At this point, I think he deserves it as much as the rest of the team

I am of two minds about this turn of events, though. On the one hand, since it's a development that wasn't on my predictions list, it does seem like we're going to be getting more than I suggested, but on the other hand, that's assuming that we still get what I suggested

If the idea is that Unjustice is such a huge tide-turner that it can be used to one-shot all of the Master Rules, then that means that every fight is going to conclude simultaneously with Julia basically shouting "KYS" into a loudspeaker. Sure, everyone is supposed to hold off the Master Rules until then, but it's much less satisfying to see eight fights deliberately stalling for time than it is to see eight fights reach their own bespoke conclusions

On the third hand, though, I was just saying a couple weeks ago that it would be boring and formulaic to just have each fight go through the motions for the sake of making sure everyone gets a turn, so maybe this is a compromise that Tozuka needed to make to keep things fresh

I think the best thing to do would be to show off what the Master Rules are actually capable of, give each team a strong character moment where they effectively win, and then take their victories away with Phase 3 powerups, making Unjustice an absolute necessity without making the Union look too weak. However, I have trouble seeing how that wouldn't become formulaic, so again, I'll just need to keep faith that Tozuka knows better than me (which he does)

The thing I really want, though, is to see what kind of characters the Master Rules are. I think we've gotten a clear enough picture of Soul, Change, Language, Beast and Sick, but the other half haven't done nearly enough to be "people," and that's what I think would be the most detrimental loss if we skipped their fights

Fortunately, Tozuka seems to be doing what he can to build on that

Death Luck

It was brief, but Luck and Death got some interesting characterization here

Luck's suggestion that Fuuko use Remember is a little odd, since they're explicitly saying "do this to at least stand a chance." You'd think they'd be taunting Fuuko by saying things like "too bad you missed your chance to use Remember~" or "you're an idiot for waiting so long to use it," but no, they're actively inviting her to use it!

Is this in line with Soul asking Luna why she wouldn't let the Master Rules fight? Does Luck lament that they're not getting a fair fight, that they're not getting the chance to prove themselves ideologically correct by beating an opponent that's at their best? Or is this some kind of trap, and Luck thinks that Remember will actively make things worse for the Union?

Whichever way you read it has pretty fascinating implications for Luck as a character, and I really hope that Tozuka plans to explore it a little bit more

Death, meanwhile, clearly doesn't want the Union to use Remember, and is going out of her way to prevent Julia from awakening Unjustice. This paints her as the more pragmatic of the two, considering the goal more important than the means, but it's especially interesting that she doesn't admonish Luck for their behavior. She doesn't ask them why they're helping the Union or anything, she just expresses no interest in letting them power up any further like Luck does

Her question to the Union, "do you think you children can beat your parents?" gives the impression that she feels the Negators owe their existence to the Rules, and that their conflict is more like a rebellious tantrum. Makes sense that the one who lets a small child ride on her back talks like a mother, and I definitely want to delve more into Death's relationship with both Luck and the Union

However, for the foreseeable future, it looks like the parental relationship we're really going to be getting is Julia with Juiz and Victor

Victor's Gift

As Fuuko says, Julia's very existence is the direct result of Juiz and Victor's actions in the previous loop. Victor betrayed Juiz specifically so she could forget all of the pain and suffering she'd been through for eons and live a normal, happy life in the next loop. While Julia still ended up getting roped into the Union, Julia herself is still not Juiz, and therefore not burdened with the experiences that made Juiz lose sight of her own vision of justice to ensure that everyone makes it out of the game alive and happy

We've talked a lot about what it would mean to use Remember for most of the cast, and from what we saw with Nico regaining his memories from Apocalypse, it seems like it unifies the past and present self into something greater than the sum of its parts. However, in Julia's case, "Juiz" and "Julia" are effectively distinct personalities; there's a lot of overlap, but the difference in life experiences is so much greater than what Nico had to contend with that it's very likely something would be lost in that shuffle. Julia's situation is a lot more similar to Andy's than Nico's; Andy has shades of Victor, but Andy is not Victor

In other words, using Remember on Julia would likely revive Juiz and erase Julia, but as Fuuko puts it, that would tread on Victor's kindness and undo everything that he worked for in the previous loop. Julia is the life that Victor and Juiz, intentionally or not, created together, and to supplant her life with Juiz's would be to rob her of her future

In effect, Julia is like Juiz and Victor's child, born to have opportunities that her parents never could. To become Juiz again would be to go back to the life her mother never wanted to have in the first place and to abandon the life her mother wanted for her. It would be great to see Juiz again, but is that really what Juiz would want? To sacrifice another life for her own sake? Isn't that exactly what ruined her vision of justice in the first place?

Even if she doesn't become her mother, though, Julia knows she doesn't truly understand the weight of the life her mother gave her, and thus wants to learn as much about Juiz as possible to gain that appreciation. By taking on Apocalypse and the memories he holds, Julia intends to gain all of the context she needs to know why it's so important that she remains herself while still doing so

With that context, Julia will attain the power and vision necessary to protect her friends and life without losing the self she's cultivated in the process. However, this still means that Juiz has been left behind, and even if Victor and Andy split as I've theorized in the past, it seems that Victor and Juiz are no more

But who knows? Perhaps the distinction between Julia and Juiz's personalities will create a soul split the same way that Remember did to Andy and Victor? If a soul is created from the love of two parents, doesn't it stand to reason that Julia technically isn't Juiz at all? Or perhaps Victor will become a blank slate and get to know Julia from scratch?

A lot of folks are very worried about this development on the basis that it seems like Juiz and Victor are going to be the only Union members who won't get a happy ending, but again, I think we just need to have faith in Tozuka. Even if Victor and Juiz are lost forever, the resolution that they got to create happier lives than their own seems like a fitting conclusion to their story arcs to me. Much like Feng has accepted that he will someday die while his teachings will live on through his students, Juiz and Victor's efforts have created a legacy of joy, even if they don't get to be a part of it

I want them to be there, but a sense of loss isn't a bad thing. If they're gone, I know that the cast and audience will be given the appropriate time to grieve and process what that loss means, for better and worse. Part of Fuuko's vision was for people who want to live to live and for people who want to die to die. Juiz's life was unnaturally and painfully long, but its conclusion was still proud and hopeful. Her death in L100 wasn't marked by her saying "finally, I can rest," but by hope for her next life

I think people worry that Juiz's death would mean giving up on her life, like what Andy was initially doing before he met Fuuko, but where Andy would have left nothing behind but regrets, Juiz would leave behind all of the smiling faces she worked so hard to create. People worry so much about Juiz's death that they forget that it's a good death

Possibly the greatest death ever

Until next time

Let's enjoy life

[tweeterwilbury]

It's really funny to me that like. Csny was already doomed from the start. Like even as a concept when you look at it it already was obvious that it Wouldnt work like just looking at stephen and neil but still they literally are mutually cursed like . Like there was almost no rational reason for neil to join them and the reason why he says he joined them is. It's literally so bad like the way he is like I wanted to have what we had on buffslo springfield but it didnt work. What did you even have on buffalo springfield that was good. It was so bad . Like he is never getting out of the loop we know it. But stephen is also never getting out of the loop which is even crazier like they are in that shit together but also. It's so bad idk . Ok let's call the guy who i hate but i love and who is better than me and that makes me feel insecure and also that WILL NOT solve our problems because we need someone to play bass and drums but he is a guitarist and we already have 3 guitarists but idkk he can play piano st least. And then things obviously start to go wrong but like it goes even worse than you would think that it would go. Because obviously the neil-stephen tension was going to doom csny from the start but then It's somehow worse than you would expect because like crosby is going through grief and also there is cocaine and. Nash is there crying in the middle of the recording studio too idk. Like it's so bad and it takes months to record it and neil is recording something else and idk it's all wrong and ofc it's all wrong. And then they make a tour and obviously it's even worse because like before people may have gone to the concerts focusing on CSN since their album was sellijg more but now people Know neil and like his solo set is crazy the loner/cinnamon girl/down by the river medley is crazy and he plays new songs and all and like idk it's very clear he is this big great songwriter and he may over shadow csn and also crosby and nash are lowkey flirting with each other during their solo sets too and meanwhile like. Stephen is full solo and ofc that would make him get much more insecure and it kinda explains the terrible long solo sets he would do like that medley with for what it's worth is so terrible it makes me feel ashamed for him but it's so pitiful like i feel bsd for him too. And then on the electric set he and neil are jumping at each other again as usual and they are making songs that are 4 minute longs have 10 minutes long guitar breaks and yknow it's the intricate rituals all again but it's still so bad. And also the thing with neil quitting because of dallas taylor ofc . But also like. Ok my point when i started this was that it's crazy that with all that neil was like Ok i will play THIS

which is a crazy song like basically romantic and i guess it's about stephen and. And like. Stephen sings it like he is answering neil which is a normal thing to do when you are very insecure about yourself and you have this friend who you hate and love who makes you feel more insecure but you also has put him in a torture chamber but you are also IN the torture chamber like you are his executioner and also your executioner and. I dont even know man you are listening to him singing and I love you and you are answering him with I love you I do which is a normal thing to say ofc and then he makes a movie like 2 years later and he includes footage of the group singing that and it literally focus on you when you answer him singing like that's Normal. I think i have done three different posts in one already. Sorry #neilphenweek2024