#which is just like. at the mall. where anyone could walk in. including kids! and they survived!!!

[dragonbleps]

Billie Rae Brandt never went to a Spencers repeatedly as a teenager to get cool dragon jewelry and it shows

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous

a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity

notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread

wc | 4.2k

jiwoong

i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often

it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL

but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do

many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong

and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation

they all incorporate wherever you are

so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up

jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine

and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious

“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”

you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture

things are different when it comes to his members though

he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university

nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy

JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.

You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.

An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”

“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”

“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”

zhang hao

there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them

literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao

most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)

and he always mocks you for it, which you hate

he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach

so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you

you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste

most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)

when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of

gets super touchy too

has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture

one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous

mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough

and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party

so obviously you capitalize on it immediately

it backfires on you

HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.

You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.

“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.

“Well, I made the tea—”

“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”

“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.

hanbin

i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)

he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels

and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else

will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao

will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him

he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates

“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”

“he was just our waiter?”

“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”

when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two

he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue

there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)

you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you

and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too

he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up

other than that his jealousy is kind of cute

hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute

and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you

matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it

YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.

“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”

You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”

“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”

Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.

matthew

matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often

literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it

he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others

a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable

at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL

he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you

he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down

but in the matthew way

so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would

“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”

whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is

“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”

they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful

he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point

he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol

it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him

as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party

BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.

The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).

He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.

“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”

“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”

Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.

taerae

taerae’s jealousy is silent

you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred

he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded

mostly because you had no clue

“you were jealous?”

“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”

you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous

he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary

you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes

and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it

little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility

lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL

taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable

after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you

because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on

so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward

sometimes even weeks after the fact

and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao

WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 

He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”

“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”

“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”

Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”

You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”

“What in the world is Taeraeology?”

ricky

when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition

he just shuts the situation down

i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk

he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying

as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you

most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated

for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch

“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you

they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky

if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf

at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL

among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close

he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention

and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL

riyangis i get you

GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”

It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.

“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”

“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”

Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.

Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.

gyuvin

gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous

when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting

it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously

so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with

it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose

he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy

and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too

but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day

you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad

because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about

like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky

because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too

and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background

it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding

GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.

“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”

You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”

Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”

Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.

“My bad.”

gunwook

i actually struggled with this

on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily

he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you

on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently

in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him

he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on

he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser

if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane

one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what

gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it

apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it

you’re flabbergasted 

so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like

“oh yeah”

what do you mean OH YEAH?

you’re actually so shocked

gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen

doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc

he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit

TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.

Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.

Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.

“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”

Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”

You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

[princess-glassred]

IT 2017 Role/Personality Swap AU

An au where everybody gets switched <3

Henry Bowers

Growing up with an abusive monster like butch Bowers is hard, but if you're strong enough you can overcome anything. That's what Henry always says anyways, he's only 12 years old and has been through hell and back, so the fact he's remained a kind, brave, sweet kid is quite miraculous. He's determined to help others and be a hero so nobody will ever have to go through what he did ever again. He feels immense guilt for what happened between his father and Connor and how he wasn't around to protect him, but that just makes him fight harder.

He suffers from awful nervous tics and anxiety due to his abusive upbringing, and people have bullied him for it for a long long time, but once again, something like that doesn't stop Henry, it just makes him fight back harder.

When fighting the evil comsic entity known as Maturin, Henry seeks guidance from the kindly creator of worlds, pennywise, via the moon. He urges Henry to save everyone and never stop fighting, even when he gets scared or feels like he can't go on.

He grows up to be a wonderfully successful artist, holding galleries and making paintings based off his complicated childhood.

Upon reuniting with his old friends Maturin tries to conjure up hallucinations of his father to scare him, but even that won't stop him.

Bill Denbrough

Bill Debrough is a 15 year old boy with a lot of issues. He's violent, abusive, cruel, and the sad part is he wasn't always like this.

Before his brother died Bill was a very happy kid, but after his funeral his parents became horrifically neglectful, until Bill felt he could only ever get attention by acting in the worst ways possible.

He's walking a tight rope of sanity, and unfortunately he loses his mind quite early on. On day, Maturin sends him a paper boat through after his parents yell at him that when unfolded, simply reads "kill them." over and over again. After killing his parents he attempts to kill the losers club and is promptly arrested by Butch Bowers and his partner, where he is then sent to juniper hills to rot for the next 27 years. Even inside of Juniper Hills Bill isn't safe, s Maturin gives him visions and makes Georgie's corpse visit him sometimes. The only solace Bill has anymore is writing, but to anyone else they look like the chicken scratches of a mad man. Just pages and pages and pages of "The turtle can't get us." over and over. Maturin eventually breaks Bill out via the rotting corpse of his old bestie, Ben Hanscom, and tells him to go kill the losers. He very nearly succeeds but is thankfully killed before he seriously hurts anyone.

Greta Keene

Greta Keene seems like she'd have it all, she's pretty, her dad's a rich pharmacist, and she lives up on the nicer side of town with all the other rich kids in Derry. Greta is hiding a secret though, a dirty dirty little secret. She likes girls. And ONLY girls. To overcompensate for this she often acts hypersexually and makes jokes about boys alot, which most people find annoying and gets alot of slut accusations thrown her way. She's bullied alot because of this, and the fact her dad is a known creep doesn't help with her reputation at all. When she's with her friends she's very sarcastic and quite sharp, often making jokingly mean girl esque comments to annoy them for fun. She does care about one of her friends though, especially one that she's been in love woth for the past 27 years.

She grows up to be a sucessful model with a relatively happy life, but her feelings for her friend and internalized homophobia prevent her from being truly happy. When she gets back to Derry she winds up having to confront her own painful queer upbringing, including a terrible incident at the mall that involved a misunderstsnding with Beverly Marsh, Bill Debrough, and a giant hyperfeminine mannequin chas her through the parking garage.

She eventually learns to accept these feelings as they are, but unfortunately her one true love is killed by maturin in the final battle. Before she leaves Derry for the last time though, she makes sure to stop by the kissing bridge and carve in a quick G+M to remember her by...

Richie Tozier

Richie Tozier is the kind of guy who just never grows up, son of the rich dentist Wentworth Tozier, Richie seems to have a real chip on his shoulder for no reason. It's pretty clear thst underneath all his petulant, bratty behavior, is a kid who hates his glasses and crooked teeth so much he lashes out at innocent people to make himself feel better about it. He makes a lot of cruel jokes at other people's expense, and particularly likes targeting Connor Bowers because he's queer. He's done all sorts of awful things to him, most notabley when he found him hiding in the boys bathroom stall, called him a fairy, and dumped a bag of trash over him. He never grows up or matures at all, staying in Derry forever and ever, working as his dad's receptionist, reading MAD magazines to pass the time away, and just generally being a loser who peaked in middle school.

Myra Kaspbrak

Poor Myra Kaspbrak was never taught how to be a kid. Her father took to adultifying her after her mother left, and that lead to a miriad of issues for Myra as she was expected to constantly worry about her younger siblings and fathers needs, but never her own.

She's picked on at school for being a fat, nervous wreck, and often called "mama" by Bill Denbrough and Richie Tozier. She just wants to be a kid, but that's impossible for her when she's never allowed to be free from her father's constant begging for attentioin and care. Her biggest fear takes the shape of a homeless leper that begs to be taken care of by her forever and ever, and the worst part is she never really gets to escape this life style.

She kinda gets coerced into marrying a man who acts and looks just like her father, some one who's problems with his own parent has turned him into a whining man baby who "needs" Myra to watch over him all the time.

When she goes back to Derry she has to stop by old Wentworth Toziers dentist office to retrieve a bracelet she lost there when she dropped her sister off for a check up. She's extra nervous about it because Richie's gonna be there ofc, and the last time they ever talked was when he scribble "LOSER" on a cast she got.

The check up with Wentworth takes a terrifying turn when he brings up the prospect of her having mouth cancer and it being an awful thing to go through because "You can't do anything with cancer. Can't eat, can't drink, can't take care of the people you love.".

She gets attacked by the leper again, but manages to make it out and back to her friends, but poor Myra ends up dying later on anyways.

All the losers are badly shaken up by this, but none more so than Greta, who actually confesses she was deeply in love with her but just never got the chance to admit it. It's all deeply sad, but at least she doesn't have to take care of anyone anymore...

Eddie Kaspbrak

Eddie Kaspbrak practicslly forced Myra to marry him, and he doesn't really care how it's affected her. He looks eerily similar to Myra's father, and acts eerily like him too, using things like weaponized incompetence and guilt tripping to make Myra stay with him and act like his mother.

He doesn't really care about Myra at all, and is just using her to fill the hole left by his abusive controlling mother that smothered him til he could hardly take care of himself. He likes to invent new illnesses and pretend to have them just to make her worry more, and when she tries to go back to Derry he cries that if she leaves he won't be able to remember to take his pills or use his inhaler or do pretty much anything.

The very last time Myra ever talks to him is when he obsessively calls her from his car and DEMANDS she stay on the phone and reassure him that he won't get in a car wreck.

Connor Bowers

Connor was forced to move in with his cousin and uncle butch sometime after his mom died, and sadly this was not a very happy or kind place to be.

Butch began to sexually abuse Connor after only about a year of living there, making sure to do it only when Henry wasn't around to see it.

The details of this abuse are too gorey to mention, but it deeply affected Connor and made an already isolated child feel even more isolated.

After one incident where Butch commented on how much he loved Connors cute curly hair though, Connor just kind of snapped and buzzed it all off in a fit of rage.

In addition to the sexual abuse, at school he would be picked on for being visibly queer and in the closet.

Many people just loved to call him slurs and beat the crap out of him, especially Richie Tozier, who actually seemed to be projecting his own closeted feelings onto him more than anything.

Henry probably would have helped Connor had he asked, but Butch often threatened to hit Henry more if Connor ever told him about what he was doing, so he just kept quiet about all of it.

He did find the strength to fight back on his own, stabbing butch in the neck and running off to the sewers with his cousin and friends, but child protective services ended splitting Henry and him up after they defeated Maturin.

As an adult Connor becomes a very famous game developer, having turned his coping mechanism of arcade games into a lucrative career. Unfortunately he winds up in a very similar situation to Myra though, where he hastily marries the first gay guy who will accept him, only to find out he's an abusive creep just like Butch.

After they were split up Henry and Connor kind of forgot the other existed, but they manage to reconnect through their fight with Maturin.

Connor does actually get a happy though, he manages to put his past behind him, get a much needed divorce, and runs off to go live with his cousin on a big yacht somewhere. Hooray!

Beverly Marsh

Nobody really knows what happened to Beverly Marsh, and frankly nobody wants to. She never left much of an impact on anyone, but the impact she left on Greta Keene fucked with her for basically her whole life.

They only met once, when Bev was visiting from portland to see her old friends, and she and the rest of the Denbrough gang decided it'd be fun to stop by the mall.

While Bill and his other friends were off at the food court, Bev stopped in a store to take a look around.

Greta was shopping there too, and once she noticed how lost Bev seemed to be in the make up aisle, Greta offered her some help.

They talked for a bit, Bev mentioning how she's not used to make up or being super feminine and Greta telling her which shades would match her skintone.

Looking back on it now, she was definitely crushing on Bev, but only because she reminded her a little bit of Myra.

After they were finished with the make up, Greta awkwardly asked if she'd like to look at the clothing racks with her, even offering to buy her something if she wants.

Before Bev could even respond though, Bill and the rest of the gang come looking for her and see them in a pretty compromising position.

In panic, she calls Greta a dyke and tells her to fuck off, catching her off gaurd and hurting Greta quite a bit.

Bill's reaction is even worse, not only because bill's homophobic, but he's had a crush on Bev for a WHILE.

Bill calls her some slurs and poor Greta runs as fast as she can until she finds herself in the parking garage.

She sits down snd cries alone for a while, until she hears some one call her name and noticed a massive, feminine, faceless manniquin bolting right for her.

Patrick Hockstetter

Patrick Hockstetter was never quite the same after his brothers death. Maturin took Avery Hockstetter right out of his crib and devoured him with out even a second thought.

Patrick had only caught a glimpse of the act, but that glimpse was enough to leave Patrick traumatized and emotionally stunted.

He didn't really show any emotions after avery died, or even much concern for his own well being either.

His development was either halted or started to regress, because he went from drawing fully fledged haoly pictures to just meaningless black and brown scribbles soon after.

Because of his lack of emotion, many people made a game out of messing with him, with even Bill Denbrough cornering him after school and carving his name into his stomache to see if he'd scream about it.

Patrick just kind of accepted he probably wouldn't be able to love anyone or anything properly due to his trauma, but then he met Henry and everything changed.

Something about Henry just made Patrick feel weird, but in the best way. He grew even more in love with Henry the more they hung out, and even wrote him an anonymous poem at one point to express how he felt.

He grows up to be a typical business man, and througy his fight with Maturin he's able to confess his feelings to Henry after 27 years of waiting.

In the end, he manages to actually marry Henry and have a wonderfully healthy relationship with him, in spite of his emotional issues.

Ben Hanscom

Due to the overwhelming isolation of constantly moving towns, Ben Hanscom developed solipsism at a pretty early age.

He's onlt fifteen, but he's utterly convinced he's god and the only real person in the entire universe.

Their constant moving also enables Ben to think none of his actions will really ever have consequences, since everytime they move it's like he starts with a new clean slate.

He does basically anything everything he wants, wether it he creeping in Bev and Bill, killing animals in a fridge, or just being a general weirdo, Ben doesn't care who he hurts.

There have been times when people try to mess withe Ben, crack jokes about his weight or threaten to beat him up, but Ben's quiteness and lack of caring quickly makes people leave him alone.

He views every situation analytically, studying everything he can about the places he moves to to see what chaos he can bring.

He help Bill attack Patrick outside the library at one point, and meets his end in the sewers when the corpse of a headless boy chases him through the tunnels and Maturin finds him.

He goes missing after that, only reemerging 27 years later when his corpse visits Bill Denbrough to help him escape.

Belch Huggins

Belch was picked on for his weight all the time growing up, in fact, that's where the nick name Belch came from, Stanley uris picking on him for how much he ate.

He took the nickname though and wore it like a badge of honor just to stick it to them, and it was a fighting spirit like that that made Belch the one who decided to stay behind in Derry of his own volition.

He never had any friends before the losers club, but their willingness to stick up for him made Belch feel like he was part of something important and meaningful for once in his life.

When everyone went their seperate way, Belch was devastated, especially because he knew in his heart Maturin wasn't dead for good.

So, he made the sacrifice to stay and research as much as he could on Derry.

He was woefully out of his element against a cosmic horror, considering he was just a white trash hick nobody, but he was determined to be prepared for the inevitable return.

He makes the calls to reuinite everyone, and to say he missed them all would be the understatment of the century.

They needed each other, and Belch is just so damn happy to have them back, even if Vic wasn't there to see it.

Mike Hanlon

Mike never meant to do more than have a little fun, he didn't expect getting wrapped up with Bill's friends would lead to his own death or cutting a kids stomache open, but it did, and there was little Mike could to stop it.

Homeschooled and raised on the outside, Mike just wanted to mess around with the other kids for a bit of a laugh, since it wasn't like he was gonna see them anytime except for summer.

There was no way for him to know just how fucking crazy Bill was gonna get though, and by then it was already too late.

He tried to get through to him and offer Bill a bit of support, but Bill was too far gone by then.

He tried to leave the group after that but Bill caught him and killed him along with Stan before he could ever even make it back home.

Vic Criss

Growing up in Derry, Vic's gender identity and sexuality was often called into question. He wasn't really gay or trans, but his love for fashion, hair and confidence in his appearance painted a big target on his back for bullies.

Vic never wanted to be a girl like some people thought, but sometimes he wished he was so he could enjoy his more feminine interests with out people insultiing him all the time.

Treatment like that made Vic a very worrisome kid, to the point some even found him prissy or a downright scaredy cat, which really only lead to more teasing.

He was by far the most reasonable member of the losers club back in the day, always thinking of the future and wether or not they even stood a chance against that turtle.

He never quite believed in the same way his friends did, and that lack of faith was what pushed him over the edge as an adult.

He found a lot of success later in life, becoming a magazine editor for the number one fashion magazine in the whole world, and even finding a wonderful lady to make his wife, but the fears from his childhood still had a hold on him.

Even though he promised to come back just like everyone else, Vic's insecurities about himself diminished all hope he had in defeating the turtle.

So... he took himself off the board.

Stanley Uris

There's not much to say about Stanley Uris, by far the least remarkable member of the Denbrough gang, but just because he's boring doesn't make him any less of a jerk than the others.

Being one of the very few jews in town, Stanley realized at a young age it was either whip or be whipped in a place like Derry, and quite frankly, Stan was a little too cowardly to accept the former.

So he started picking on people, it didn't matter who, gay kids, fat kids, poor kids, even some of the other jewish kids if it made his bestie Bill happy.

All in all his life was fairly normal for your average shitty bully, but then Bill went nuts and Stanley began to have some regrets about encouraging him so much.

All his regrets ended up being pretty useless though, becaude Bill killed him and Mike shortly after killing his parents.

Pennywise

The natural predator of Maturin, Pennywise is an objective force for good who loves every child in their own special way. He is the creator of worlds and takes on the guise of a friendly circus clown to appeal to kids, he tries to offer the losers as much guidance as possible with out interfering too much, and typically communicates with Henry through the moon. He tells the losers that deep down Maturin is terrified of them, and that they must hold no fear when confronting him. He sadly dies when Maturin manages to snuff out his dead lights, but his kind words to Henry stick with him til the final battle where they defeat the turtle.

Maturin

Maturin is a being of pure evil that feasts off fear, it takes the form of a massive godzilla esque turtle that lives in the sewers, but can shape shift into anything else it wants to scare you. It's only interests is feeding itself and has reigned over Derry for years.

He has many attempts to kill the losers, even sending Bill Denbrough to do it for him, but none of them end up working in the end.

Through the power of friendship the losers club make him shrivel down until he's nothing but a pathetic wrinkly reptillian mess, thus ending his reign of terror and setting Derry free.

[bendeddicksssss]

The Ghost of Family Video

The first chapter of one of my fanfics on ao3 just to give a little sneak peak.

Summary in the shortest amount of words: Steve died after the events of Starcourt, and Eddie is a psychic who can see ghosts. I think you can guess what the fic is about ;)

Chapter 1: Steve Harrington is Dead

Robin Buckley started working at Scoops Ahoy for the same reason every other teen gets a job; she wanted money. Her parents were never the type to ask her to help with the bills, nor did they ever ask her to get a job, but she enjoyed having money stored up for college and emergencies. It was cushioning for both her and her parents if they ever needed it, and, with her brother at college, they needed all the help they could get. She had a job before–started working the ticket stand at Hawkins old theater when she was 15. She was 17, however, when she started working at Scoops Ahoy—working with Steve Harrington.

Robin never had a job that didn’t include a coworker, but Steve was an entirely different concept. He didn’t feel like a coworker, even if they did work together. He felt like an entity more elusive than Bigfoot. She hated Steve, but she didn’t hate him in a normal sense. She hated him because he made her heart grow heavy with comfort, despite the fact that he was a homophobic, dick-bag of a jock. At least, that’s what Robin assumed when they started working together. Steve proved her assumptions wrong within the first week of working together. He brought back coffee whenever he went on his break. He offered his extra breaks to Robin if she looked tired. He insisted on taking in all the heavy stock, and he never let Robin pay for her own dinner or lunch if she forgot to pack one. Even then, she hated him.

She hated him like the ocean hates the beach. They were stuck in a constant battle of one metaphorically crashing into the other, but, in a strange way, it worked. Each crash of a wave chipped at the other person’s sandy shore, letting out pieces of shells and hidden creatures in the tide pools. Each wave was a new discovery about who the other person really was. They were the ocean against the beach. Waves in the sand. Forever connected. Steve and Robin. 

That feeling within their “friendship” was even before all hell broke loose and before Robin knew Russian spies hid beneath the mall and monsters worse than the ones under her bed were real. Even with their mutual teasing and stormy beaches, no one could deny that Steve and Robin were connected. No one could deny that they were, at least, friends. Robin tried to deny it. If anyone asked, she’d tell them that Steve was just another schmuck she was stuck slinging ice cream with. A rich kid who was forced into a job by his snooty parents. He was nothing to her, but she was only lying when she said that. Steve wasn’t nothing. He wasn’t nothing at all.

Steve was a walking puzzle missing half the pieces and the guiding picture, yet Robin tried her hardest to figure him out. It was impossible. He was a mystery confusing enough to stump Sherlock. He flinched at flickering lights and dissociated in the cold freezer where they stored ice cream. He kept a baseball bat in the trunk of his car that Robin had only ever seen the handle of, which had a small brown stain on it—one that looked suspiciously like blood. In an expected fashion, he teased Robin about still being in high school, calling her “Freshman” with every other sentence despite the fact that she was on her way to her senior year. Strangest of all, he refused to let Robin ride her bike home after the closing shift; she rode with him nearly every day with her bike in the backseat of his car. Eventually, he started picking her up to be taken to work too. It wasn’t even a conversation between them; he just showed up while Robin was dragging her bike down her driveway. She didn’t try to argue, seeing the dark bags under his eyes and the silent begging within them—a look built more of fear than desperation. She couldn’t have said no even if she tried. Besides, who was she to turn down a free ride?

Steve also had a pack of kids who followed him like ducklings to their imprinted mother. “I babysit them.” He always used it as an excuse, but that never made sense to Robin. To start off, she knew for a fact that Scoops was Steve’s first job. He never mentioned being a babysitter until they started showing up. She also knew that most of the kids have older siblings. Growing up with an older brother, Robin knew that older siblings are usually stuck with the babysitting job. Max Mayfield, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler–they all had older siblings. Why would their parents waste the money in hiring Steve? Moreso, why, out of all the high school students in Hawkins, would they choose Steve to babysit? He was a jock known for getting drunk at parties and flirting with everything with boobs. He didn’t exactly scream babysitting material.

Outside of his role as “Mama Duck”, Steve was also friends with Jonathan Byers, even though the man was known around school for stealing ‘King Steve’s’ girlfriend. In fact, Steve’s face lit up like a Christmas tree the few times Jon came into shop, even when the boy was there without his younger brother or any of the other children. 

Despite her initial shock, Robin could handle these discoveries and odd traits. She could handle Steve being friends with a few kids and with Jonathan Byers, but there was a fact about Steve Harrington that stood out above the rest. The most surprising thing about Steve was that he wasn’t, at all, what Robin thought he’d be. He wasn’t a douchebag. He wasn’t a ‘womanizer’, like her friend, Kate, would always call him. Sure, Steve flirted with everything and anyone that breathed, but he was always respectful. He made eye contact and complemented their hair or their smile. He was even nicer with the customers without boobs, complimenting them even if he wasn’t trying to get laid. Steve Harrington wasn’t Steve Harrington. He was just… Steve. Her coworker. Her friend. Her puzzle that she spent the first half of that summer trying to figure out. 

It wasn’t until she saw a monster bigger than her house that she discovered all the missing pieces of Steve. Why he flinched at flickering lights and why the cold always bothered him. She figured why he prefers cats and smaller dogs to bigger ones. She figured out he was smarter than he let on, having intelligence in things besides books and school. She figured out he was selfless. He threw himself headfirst into danger to try and save a couple of kids, one of whom she was pretty sure he hated because Erica Sinclair was an asshole of a child, but he saved them. He tried to save Robin too, but Scoop's captains stick together, right? She wasn’t gonna leave him alone, and that idea scared her more than anything. Just one traumatic experience together and she was already codependent of a man whose head was more hairspray than brains. 

She doesn’t know how long they were in the bunker for. All she knew was that Steve was nice to talk to. He listened, and he asked questions. She would try and urge him to talk, and he would, but she could tell he was holding back. Sure, she had all the pieces to the puzzle of Steve, but she still needed the bigger picture. 

“You think they’d buy it if I pretended I could only speak French?” Robin asked when they were left alone. The guard's voices were muffled just outside the door, so she talked to drown out the few Russian words she understood– “The boy… blue… spies… bleed.”

“What?” Steve asked a few seconds after her statement. 

Robin shrugged, her shoulders brushing against Steve’s, “I don’t know; it could work. I am fluent in French!” she sighed dejectedly, “I’m sorry. I’m just talking to not freak myself out. I’ll shut up.” she cleared her throat and looked to the ground, deciding that it probably wasn’t the best time to make jokes.

“Talk.” Steve suddenly urged. She looked at him. This was before they were tied back-to-back, so she could still look at him. “You don’t have to talk about them. Talk about anything… you’re gonna be a senior, right?” Robin nodded. “You want to go to college?” 

Robin tilted her head. This wasn’t the first time they had talked about college, but it was the first time the focus was on Robin. In past conversations, talks about school was usually Steve making fun of Robin being in high school and Robin making fun about Steve for not going to college. “I want to go to Chicago.” Robin answered. 

“The university?” Robin nodded. 

“I always wanted to live in a big city; Chicago is at the top of my list.” In all honesty, ever since Robin was young, she dreamed about living in a city, but she dreamed about going west to California–Hollywood. She wanted to be a director or a writer, but Chicago seemed like an easier option. A steppingstone to get to her dream. “Honestly, I don’t want to go to college, but I think a degree would be nice to fall back on.”

“What do you want to do?” 

Robin smiled, “I want to write.”

“Books? Articles?”

“Movies.” she corrected. Steve went on to ask about what kind of movies, and she talked about a few ideas she had for a romantic period piece (leaving out the sapphic details) until the door burst open. Robin had almost forgotten she was in a nightmare. She was grateful for his distraction. 

When they got separated, it was like time stood still. It could’ve been hours–days–weeks–minutes–seconds, and all Robin experienced was an empty mind and a racing heart. There were no clocks and no windows. Just her tied to a chair, and Steve… Steve being tortured. Robin heard Steve’s screams from all the way down the hall. She tried humming Blondie or Queen to drown them out but each one was louder than the last. Robin liked horror movies, sure. She watched thrillers with friends and would challenge herself to not chicken out, but the actors in those films never even came close to the screams Steve was making. They were blood curdling and garbling, as he begged for his life. For a break from the pain. Robin wished she could rip her ears off. Worst of all, she felt useless! Robin heard punches and Russian voices shouting at her friend, and all she could do was listen and hope that he was still breathing. Her parents never really forced any specific religion growing up. She wasn’t sure how prayers were supposed to work, but she tried her best: Please, God, let Steve be alive. I know I don’t believe in you. You probably hate me right now, but please let this scream not be his last. Please bring him back. 

Steve came back bruised and bloodied and unconscious, and Robin tried to feel for a pulse, screaming at the guards for answers. What happened? Fuck… She couldn’t find his heartbeat. Robin always sucked in anatomy class—got too grossed out by the dissections, but she knew it was somewhere on his neck… maybe the wrist? She just had to loosen her binds enough to feel for his heartbeat. She tried to reassure herself that she just had to keep looking, but she couldn’t find it! She couldn’t find his pulse and the guards were watching them, and she knew that she would be next in their sadistic crusade. They tied them back-to-back all while Robin was still panicking. When Steve took a gasp of air, she nearly added her own punch into the mix for scaring her, but the Russian guards were already moving on to the next form of torture. But, hey, Steve was alive. She wasn’t alone. 

Later, they sat beside a once-empty toilet. The stench and taste of vomit lingered in Robin’s nose and throat. The Starcourt bathroom tiles were sticky and covered in a thin layer of dirt and dust. The custodians must’ve not cleaned yet, as the theater was still open and, thus, the mall was open. Her heart stopped when she heard silence coming from Steve’s stall, but he was only thinking and resting. They’d been awake for nearly 48 hours now, and Robin was just waiting for the right moment to pass out.

Coming out to Steve was almost as terrifying as the entirety of the Russian base. He had just told her he found someone for himself (implied it was her), and she told him she liked girls. It was the truth, but you can’t just tell people that! Sure, Steve was miraculously not a douchebag, but straight guys don’t always take rejection well, and people, in general, don’t always take queer people well. But she was high and scared, and she wanted someone to know before she died. Robin should’ve learned by that point to not underestimate Steve Harrington. She should’ve figured out that Steve was as far from a bad person as someone could be. Steve Harrington wasn’t a bad person at all, though his Kermit impression was kind of shit.

“I’m like you.” He told her when they had another chance alone. It was when they were driving back to the mall to help their friends, leaving Dustin and Erica on the hill.

“What?” she asked.

“When I said I found someone better for me—better than Nancy; I was talking about…” he swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I was talking about a guy. His name’s Eddie.”

Robin smiled, “Oh…”

Steve’s face regained its color, and he laughed. “Yeah,” he snorted, “oh…”

Yeah, Steve wasn’t a bad person in the slightest…

He held her hand when they were hiding from the guards. He reached his arm out to hold her when he crashed into Billy Hargrove, so she wouldn’t hit the dashboard. He gave her his last firework to throw at the Flayer. He gave her a stick of gum he found hiding in his pocket when she complained about still tasting vomit. He gave her his shock blanket when she was still shaking beneath hers. He denied medical treatment and insisted they check on Robin and Dustin first. He snuck a few Band-Aids and an ice pack from the ambulance to take care of himself; Robin saw him do it, but she just assumed he had already been checked and was just grabbing extra supplies. Afterall, he told everyone that he was already checked on, “Go help someone else; I’m fine.” he insisted anytime a paramedic asked him. Ever the selfless hero… Steve.

After they were all debriefed and lightly threatened by the US government to keep their mouths shut and sign NDAs, Steve asked Jonathan if he’d be willing to drive them. “My head just hurts.” and Jonathan said sure. On the drive home, Steve was fighting off sleep in the backseat, leaning his head against Robin’s. No one could even fathom resting. Their bodies were still in fight or flight mode, ready to fight a monster that was already dead or guards that were buried beneath tons of dirt, ash, and debris. No one really questioned Steve’s exhaustion, though. They didn’t know the full story, but they knew Steve, Robin, Dustin, and Erica were trapped in that bunker for nearly days. No food. No water. No rest. Dustin and Erica passed out, afterall. Steve wasn’t the odd one out. If anything, Robin was, but she didn’t want to sleep. She just let Steve use her as a pillow.

Perhaps, she should’ve known something was wrong by him fighting off sleep so much. Robin’s not an idiot; she knows the signs of head trauma, but she was so tired. Perhaps, if she had been stronger and fought harder against the guards, she wouldn’t have gotten drugged. She would have had the mental clarity to notice one of Steve’s pupils was bigger than the other. She would’ve noticed him squinting and flinching at every light, flickering or not, and limping. Would’ve noticed he had to lean against the wall at every other step. Granted, she didn’t know if any of those things happened, but there must have been something she could’ve noticed! Something Robin could’ve seen, so she would know Steve needed help, but the man’s stubbornness was bigger than his hair, so, of course, she didn’t know.

Steve died not long after they left the mall. They had all gone to his house afterwards. No one wanted to be alone, and he had the most available space for everyone in the party. He also had a stockpile of extra clothes, blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags. Apparently, Steve really was a babysitter, or, at the very least, the kids’ honorary mother. After helping everyone find some supplies to go to sleep and some PJ’s, he went to bed early, saying he had a headache and was just going to take some Tylenol. Robin tried to go with him, but he insisted she stay and hang out with everyone. They were watching The Fox and the Hound because it was the only animated ("comforting") movie Steve had. “I know it’s for kids, but it’s one of my favorites.” He explained with a shrug, leaning against the railing for support. 

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” Robin asked. “Did the paramedics give you all clear?” 

Steve only laughed, “Yeah, Rob. I’ll be fine. Go watch the movie. I’ll see you in the morning.” He insisted, waving a dismissive hand. 

Steve’s voice broke when he said that sentence and, after watching him hopelessly lie to impress girls, Robin knew Steve’s voice broke when he lied. Yet, she didn’t say anything. She just assumed it was because he was tired. Surely, Steve wouldn’t turn down medical help. Surely, he wasn’t that careless about himself. Robin wished she knew this would be their last conversation, so she could think of something better to say.

“Okay. Love you, dingus.” She would’ve said, if she knew he wouldn’t actually see her in the morning.

Steve would’ve rolled his eyes. “Love you too, freshman.” She would punch his arm, making him wince and call her an ass. That’s how she likes to imagine their last conversation, but that’s not at all what they said. He still dismissed her and lied about his own health, but she didn’t tell him she loved him like she wishes she did. No, instead she said, “I’m surprised they could hurt your head so much beneath all that hairspray.” She stuck her tongue out between her teeth teasingly, “It’s like your own helmet, Harrington.” 

“Ha, ha.” Steve blanched while rolling his eyes. “You’re just jealous that I came prepared with protection.” he ran a hand through his hair for emphasis, making the sweat coated streaks fall around his forehead. Robin laughed and sent him off to bed with a promise that they’d spend all of tomorrow together, just to talk and heal. 

Nobody knows the exact time of death, as everyone was asleep, but the doctors believe it was shortly after their conversation—a bit past midnight. As it turns out, Steve went to sleep with one of those head injuries you’re not supposed to sleep with. Something got hit too hard beneath all that hair, and Steve simply stopped breathing. “It can happen in patients who have suffered from concussions or untreated head traumas. It’s common in those who have experienced a hemorrhage or aneurysm of some kind.” Nancy had explained, but, truly, there were a number of other variables that could’ve caused that. A bad reaction to that Russian drug, his concussion, a hole in his lung, internal bleeding, or even a really bad fever. In any case, Robin should’ve never let him go to bed alone. 

Another thing she wishes she could change is something she’ll forever be guilty for. Robin wishes more than anything that it was her who found the body. She wishes she wasn’t dealing with a hangover from that weird drug Steve and her were given and that coffee wasn’t the most important thing in the world. Coffee wasn’t the most important thing, but, at that moment, Robin would’ve traded her soul for a mug. Ms. Byers had made breakfast for everyone, and Steve was thought to be sleeping in, even though he was the first one to go to sleep. “I’ll get him.” Dustin volunteered, rolling his eyes and groaning like it was a chore.

The boy walked up the stairs and went to Steve’s bedroom. The door was open a bit, so Dustin didn’t feel the need to knock before he walked in. The first thing he noticed was that Steve’s bed sheets were messy, like he had moved around a lot in his sleep. The next thing he noticed was a Tylenol bottle on the floor; the cap was off, and the contents were spilled across the carpet. Dustin figured Steve had a nightmare and knocked the bottle and his sheets over, knowing nightmares were common for everyone in the party. Hell, there were quite a few nightmares during that night. Dustin had one. It was about Steve not making it back from the bunker. It was about Steve dead on a concrete floor.

At least, a bed is more comfortable than concrete.

“Hey, Steve, wake up.” Dustin nudged Steve’s foot, which was covered by his blanket. He was still wearing his Scoops uniform, being too tired to take it off, Robin supposed, or he passed out. “Steve, come on.” Dustin spoke louder and nudged him harder. 

Dustin moved forward and clapped his hands above Steve’s body. “Steve!” He nearly shouted. He reached forward to grab Steve’s arm with a roll of his eyes, and gasped when he felt how cold it was. His heart jumped to his throat and choked him like a noose. “S-Steve…?” his voice was shaking. Steve’s house always had great air conditioning. He was just cold from the AC; that was what Dustin told himself. It was cold in the house, and all of Steve's blankets fell off of him in the night, so he was cold. “Steve, this isn’t funny!” Dustin grabbed Steve’s arm and shook it. Steve felt stiff, like he was a mannequin and not a person. “Steve!” Dustin screamed this time. His voice echoed out into the hallway and downstairs, alerting the others. “Steve! Please, you gotta wake up!” He grabbed both shoulders, shaking him vigorously. “Steve!” 

Robin was the first person up the stairs despite her headache and poor coordination. The blinds were closed, and the room was gray, so she flicked on the overheads to find a man just as gray as before the lights were turned on. He was pale and his eyes were shut. His lips looked blue, and his veins were prominent beneath ghostly skin. “Steve…?” Robin didn’t scream like Dustin, but her voice cracked. She didn’t run to his side or shake him. She merely stepped out of the way as Joyce and Jonathan ran into the room. “Steve…” she couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Dreaming or having a nightmare. Awake or asleep. Dead or alive. In that moment, there was no difference. 

“Steve—get off of me!” Dustin elbowed at Jonathan, as the boy tried to pry Dustin away from his friend. “Steve! Wake up!” Robin felt tears streaming down her face, but she was confused why they were flowing. She wasn’t there. Her mind was still at Scoops. She was still watching Steve being a dingus and badly flirting with girls. She was in the backroom with him listening to a Russian code. She was tied to his back, and they were laying on the ground talking about where they would be if they became friends earlier. Steve would be in college, and Robin wouldn’t be in a Russian bunker. She was in the mall bathroom talking with him about Tammy Thompson’s bad singing voice. They were in the “Todd-father” discussing the possibilities of going to gay bars in Indianapolis. They were standing on the stairs wishing each other goodnight. They weren’t… he wasn’t… This couldn’t be happening! Steve… Steve was just here.

Dustin screamed and kicked when Murray entered the scene and picked the boy up from beneath his arms. “Let go of me! — Steve!” Dustin screamed. It was the kind of scream that vibrated the walls and shook Robin to her core. A kind of scream she’s only ever heard come out of movies. The boy was pushing at Murray’s arms, trying his best to escape and return to his friend’s side. Tears were streaming down Dustin’s face, and Robin glanced into the hallway at the sound of a thud. Max had reached the top of the stairs, having had to fight her way through a now sobbing Lucas. She was sitting on her knees with her hands covering her mouth. Robin could tell she was screaming, based on her stretched jaw and narrowed eyes, but she couldn’t hear it. Everything was suddenly muffled. Her headache from that hangover switched into a stabbing pain, and the ringing in her ears drowned everything out. “Steve!” Dustin shouted—barely heard. Murray set the boy down besides Max and blocked them both from the room. Max threw herself into Lucas’s arms. Robin looked on as Jonathan started doing chest compressions. She glanced over the balcony to see Mike with his hands cradling the back of his head, covering his ears. His hands were clenched so tightly, that Robin was sure his nails were digging into his scalp. Will was hugging Jane, who was sobbing and clinging to him, shaking her head in denial.

Joyce suddenly walked out of the room. She was gasping and choking on her own tears. “Ms. Byers…?” Robin didn’t know what she was going to say or ask. She just needed confirmation that this wasn’t real. That this was just a Russian drug-induced dream. That this was all some sick nightmare or cruel joke from the universe, and she was gonna wake up to Steve sitting at the kitchen counter with an ice pack to his swollen eye and a coffee mug in hand. “’Bout time you woke up, Buckley.” He’d say with a smile despite the split in his lip, because Steve had the best smile, and he loved to show it. He smiled in the Russian bunker and smiled through tears. He smiled in every picture no matter the context, and Robin used to say he was too happy. He’d just shrug and say, “Better than being miserable.”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Joyce whispered instead of disproving reality. She wrapped her arms around Robin’s shoulders. It was then that the younger girl felt her knees buckle, like she was made of broken glass and poorly glued back together, and all it took was Ms. Byer’s touch to make her break once more. A scream wrenched its way from her throat, loud and painful. It vibrated the walls and left her vocal cords burning. Joyce caught her as she fell, but Robin collapsed to the ground anyway. Joyce came with her, never releasing Robin from her arms. 

Downstairs, Nancy had called 911. In Steve’s room, Jonathan was still desperately doing CPR, singing Bee Gees beneath his breath and looking at his friend through a teary, blurred vision. Jonathan didn’t tell anyone what happened until after the autopsy had shown that Steve had a broken sternum and broken ribs. Jonathan explained that he heard and felt the man’s chest crack and cave, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He couldn’t let Steve die. “I can’t get Stayin’ Alive out of my head…” he joked with a wet laugh, but everyone knew it wasn’t a joke. Everyone knew he now hated that song more than anything else.

It was Joyce that had read them the autopsy report. She was friends with the doctor who ran them. It was her that read from the doctor’s note that it was strange Steve died. It was that doctor who predicted that Steve had lied and hadn’t seen any of the paramedics, because even a first-day trainee would’ve seen the obvious head trauma from a mile away.

“That’s ridiculous!” Mike had scoffed, “Why would anyone refuse help from paramedics?”

“Because he didn’t want any.” Max answered. The way they talked about Steve’s death changed after that. No longer was it talking of a friend who died. They were talking about a friend who committed suicide. At least, that’s how Robin interpreted it—the change in everyone’s tone and the anger shown at the funeral. If a friend dies, they get mourned. If a friend kills themselves, especially one as important and relied upon as Steve, they get yelled at.

They had Chief Hopper’s funeral on Tuesday, Billy Hargrove’s was on Thursday, and Steve’s was on Monday. They tried to postpone Steve’s funeral until August for when his parents would be back, but, when Joyce called the Harringtons, they forwarded money and told her to go on with the funeral without them. Joyce ended up breaking that phone after giving Steve’s mother a piece of her mind, which mostly contained curse words and heavy insults. The plastic shattered in her hands after she slammed the phone on the hook repeatedly, cursing Steve’s parents and sobbing about a son that wasn’t really hers.

At Hopper’s funeral, nearly the whole town showed up. There were a lot of funerals the following weeks for a lot of Hawkins citizens, but Hopper was the chief and considered the hero of the fire, so it made sense that he had the biggest crowd to show up. It was so crowded that Robin was forced to stay in the outskirts of the pack with Erica and Lucas beside her. She ended up leaving early. She didn’t know the man that well, anyway.

Billy’s funeral wasn’t as crowded, but a few people from school showed up, including some from the old basketball and swim team. Billy’s dad left early, muttering something about “a waste.” Mrs. Wheeler was there, and she was crying, which Robin found strange. Sure, the woman could’ve been there because Nancy and Mike were, but that didn’t excuse her crying. Max was standing by the lowering casket with her arms crossed, refusing to cry, but she did. Her jaw clenched and her hands turned to fists, as if she was angry at herself for tearing up. Robin was just observant enough to notice these things, and she placed a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. Max leaned into her touch without a word. In fact, they didn’t speak at all that day. Robin wonders if she should’ve said something—anything—to comfort the girl more than a touch could, but Steve’s funeral was coming up. Robin couldn’t be bothered to comfort anyone past a touch. How could she when she, herself, was ripping at the seams?

Steve’s funeral had the least amount of people to show up. Tommy and Carol showed up to the ceremony, but they left before the burial. There was exactly 13 in attendance at the burial once the preacher and the graveyard men left. There was Robin, Dustin, his mom, Lucas and Erica, Mrs. Sinclair, Mike and Nancy, the Byers, Jane, and Max, who caught a ride from Lucas’s mom because her mom was working that day. 

Steve’s gravestone was tall but simple, with little flowers carved into the border and floral vases at the sides. Everyone pitched in to add to the stone what Steve’s parents weren’t willing to pay for.

Steve Harrington

April 12th, 1967 — July 5th, 1985

Beloved Friend, Hero, Babysitter

“Anyone want to say a few words?” Joyce asked once the dirt was place over their friend. The woman’s face was red, and tissues were clenched in her fists. Thinking back, Robin realized that Joyce hadn’t cried at a single funeral, not really. At Hopper’s, she teared up, but she was so busy comforting Jane that she didn’t allow herself the breakdown she probably needed. At Billy’s, she comforted Max, taking over for Robin when the older girl had to leave early. At Steve’s funeral, Joyce Byers didn’t cry, because she had to be there for the kids, but it proved difficult. The tissues in her hand had little splotches of blood from her nails digging into her palms. It took Robin a long time to figure out why Ms. Byers was torturing herself, but the answer hit her like a train. Joyce is a mom; moms can’t cry. Never in front of the kids. They keep themselves together and cry when the lights in the house are off and the work for the day is finally finished. They let their tears build up inside of them until they explode. Robin wonders if any dishes were broken in the Byers’ household that week. No one, not even Joyce Byers, could survive that long with that many bottled tears without breaking some glass.

Robin liked Joyce, but she was too busy staring down at the patch of dirt that was once her friend to really hear Ms. Byer’s question. The small crowd stayed silent when it was asked, save for a few sobs, sniffs, and gasps for air. Max stepped forward, staring down at Steve’s grave with a red face and swollen lips. “Fuck you.” She gasped through a sob. Robin was surprised she didn’t bite her bottom lip clean off when she used it as a method to stop her tears.

Max then leaned down to drop a bracelet on the grave. It’s one of those braided ones, made with string, beads, and yarn. “El and I made you this at our sleepover. We were gonna give it to you, but I didn’t have it with me at Starcourt. I-I guess it’s useless now. What kind of friend are you? Y-you fucking asshole.” She spoke only after her sobs were subsided into small cries. She wiped her eyes and looked at the rest of her friends before walking off. She went and sat at her brother’s grave, and everyone knew it wasn’t because she loved Billy more. It was because she hated people seeing her cry, so they looked away once her shoulders began to shake, and her hand flew to her mouth to deafen the sobs and gasps. Her hair was pulled over her as a curtain to hide her own disgust—her emotions. Robin leaned over to look at the bracelet. “#1 Babysitter” it read in those little lettered beads. The string was blue and yellow–Steve’s favorite colors. The colors were recently poisoned for Robin. 

Mike went up next. “I, uh, still think you’re a dumb jock, but you’re a good person. Y-you saved our lives more times than I can count. You saved my life more times than I can count. Thank you…” Mike stepped back and stared at the sky, anywhere but the ground. “I wish you were still here, so you could tell Dustin to stop being an asshole. You were always the one to keep his ego in check.” Mike laughed wetly, “He’s gonna be awful to deal with now that you’re… now that you’re gone…” Mike took another step back, like Steve’s grave was suddenly a demodog ready to pounce instead of a mound of dirt and stone. “Why’d you have to leave us, man? You were supposed to lead us—teach us about surviving high school and dealing with other dumb jocks. You—you’re a fucking jerk, you know that!?” Nancy grabbed his arm before he could storm forward. Mike leaned against his sister and turned his eyes away from Steve’s grave completely. Perhaps, he believed that, as long as he didn’t see the newly dug dirt, it wouldn’t be real. Nancy wrapped her arms around her brother, as he hid his crying face in her black dress. To Robin’s surprise, the girl owned three, and she wore a different one to each funeral. This dress was Robin’s personal favorite, as it was mostly tool with a tight waistline and a small shawl, like a 50’s prom dress. Steve would’ve liked it.

“He was supposed to teach me basketball.” Lucas spoke so quietly that Robin was sure only she heard it, as she was the only one to look his way. “We were supposed to practice all Summer, man. You still haven’t taught me how to properly do a lay-up.” He laughed until he cried, and then he laughed some more, “I promise you; I’ll get on the team. Hell, I’ll make it to varsity—the big leagues, the NBA. I don’t care if they don’t let freshmen on V; I’ll find a way. I’ll practice every day, and I’m getting your old jersey number, okay? You better come to my games. I’ll be looking out for you, got it?” he was smiling through his tears, and Robin had to look away. Lucas was always the type to put on a brave face, but Robin saw the way his smile cracked his façade. It was too forced; it was disturbing to watch. She could hear the slow transition of his laugh turning into painful sobs. She closed her eyes and waited until she heard a noise other than a sob.

Lucas dropped something on Steve’s grave, and she looked down to see his old jersey folded and placed neatly on the dirt. Lucas wiped at his eyes and glanced around at his friends. He clenched his jaw and tried to stop the tears from falling, but they wouldn’t stop. “I-I’m sorry.” he walked away to join Max, stopping at his mom to grab tissues from her purse. The mothers, besides Joyce, were sitting far away on a bench to give everyone space to say goodbye. Robin realized as she watched Lucas walk over to them, that, technically speaking, only 11 people attended Steve Harrington’s burial. They were just bystanders.

Lucas approached Max like a wild animal, but she merely patted the ground beside her. It made sense. They had matching wounds. Both lost a brother, and Robin is not including Billy in that statement.

“You saved us.” Erica spoke next. “I was so scared, and you protected us, like a knight. You’re an idiot for doing it, but you did it. And now you…” Erica furrowed her brow before reaching into her skirt’s pocket. She pulled out a My Little Pony figurine. Robin didn’t know which one it was, but it must’ve meant a lot to Erica. The girl sobbed as she placed it beside Max’s bracelet. “You better not lose this. It’s my favorite, okay?” she pointed to the grave like she was giving Steve a lecture. Robin couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

“What pony is that?” It was Will who asked, talking for the first time since they lowered Steve's casket.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Erica answered quietly, embarrassingly. It wouldn’t be for another three months that Erica would explain why she chose Twilight Sparkle. It was when the girl had wandered into Family Video to rent The Last Unicorn. Robin asked why she chose that character, and she told the older teen that it was because Twilight was a leader who valued friendship and loyalty. Robin sobbed after Erica left the store. She sobbed so hard that she nearly threw up her lunch and had to go home early. She doesn’t know why she cried so hard. Steve talked about being forced to watch My Little Pony with Erica, so she knew that Steve knew who Twilight Sparkle is. She laughs at the thought, because he would surely insist, he was a different character, but Erica’s right. Steve was a leader. He loved his friends, and he was as loyal as a dog to its owner.

Erica and Lucas left after that, bringing Max along because she didn’t want to stay, even if she was supposed to ride home with Nancy. Nancy dropped a teddy bear and a rose off at Steve’s grave. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” She sobbed through a tight mouth. Steve used to say that Nancy would call him an idiot the same way Robin calls him a dingus. “It’s affectionate.” he said, but Nancy’s tone was dripping with venom. The girl walked away, shaking her head and clenching her fists. Mike and she left, and she peeled out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Anger fueled the vehicle more than gasoline, in that instance.

“When it rains, this will be destroyed, but you’re a real barbarian, Steve. Even if you don’t know what that is.” Will placed a drawing of Steve in a suit of leather armor that looked suspiciously like a Scoops Ahoy uniform. His weapon was a spiked bat, and he was smiling and looking at the sun. The next day, Robin stole that drawing to make a copy at the library’s printer. She returned the drawing the same day, but she had the copy hanging up in her room next to a polaroid Jonathan took of the ‘Scoops Troop’, as Dustin called them: Steve’s bloody yet smiling face, Erica’s tired eyes, Dustin’s bright smile, and Robin in her vomit and blood-stained uniform.

“I forgive you, Steve.” Jonathan said next. “I know I told you that a long time ago, but I don’t think you ever stopped blaming yourself for what you did. You’re not a bad person. You never were. I don’t hate you. I would never hate you. You’re… you’re my best friend.” His voice was shaking with his hands. He had nothing to give but a small photo of him, Steve, and Nancy on the Byers’ couch. Steve’s face was bloody and bruised (not from the Russians—apparently Jonathan throws a powerful punch), but he was smiling the brightest. Always the optimist, Robin supposed.

Joyce didn’t say anything. She was too busy comforting Jane, who kept trying to speak but came up short every time. The Byers and Jane left, leaving Dustin and Robin.

“I thought he was asleep…” Dustin whispered. He removed his ‘Camp Knowhere’ cap and placed it on the corner of Steve’s grave. “Sorry, it’s not Farrah Fawcett, but I don’t think they let hair spray into the afterlife.” Dustin joked. He laughed before he suddenly broke into sobs. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “You…” his voice broke, and he bit his quivering lip. “I hate… I hate you so, so much, Steve.” He shook his head. “Our deal was you die, I die. Not you die, I keep on living without you. What made you think I could do this without you?! Why would you leave me like this?! All you had to do was let them look at you! They were going to get to all of us eventually! They were paramedics Steve. It was their job to help you, and you sent them away! You insisted you were fine, you, fucking asshole. Why was it so hard to let someone else take care of you for once?! Why are you such a “hero” that you couldn’t… you…” his voice cracked, “you may think that was selfless, but this is the worst thing you’ve ever done. You weren’t helping us; you fucking killed yourself, and now I’m alone, Steve! Who’s going to drive me around? Who’s going to teach me how to talk to girls and do my hair? Who–Who’s supposed to be my dad now? Did you hear that? You were my dad, Steve. You weren’t my brother. You weren’t my babysitter or mom, Steve; you were my dad, and now you’ve gone up and left me too. You should’ve—you should’ve let them look at you! How hard was it to get help, you, fucking asshole!” Robin rushed forward to stop Dustin from kicking the dirt, grabbing his arms and yanking him back. “Let go of me!” Dustin shouted, shoving Robin away.

“Dustin, this isn’t what Steve would’ve wanted— “

“Don’t tell me what he wanted!” Dustin snapped. “You knew him, for what? A few months?!” He pushed forward, gesturing to himself. “I’ve known him for years, Buckley. He saved my life more times than I can count. We have been through hell together; you don’t get to tell me what he would or wouldn’t want!” He pointed an accusing finger to Robin, who held her hands up in surrender. “You didn’t even know him.”

“Dustin, I— “

“Just forget it.” He spat. He left before Robin could say another word. She watched him storm past his mom, who offered a comforting hand, but he just ignored her and shoved his way past. He marched to her car and yanked at the door to get in. They drove off with nothing but a sparing, apologetic glance at Robin from Ms. Henderson. She smiled back and waved.  

Robin turned back to Steve’s grave and sighed. “Hey, Dingus…” she greeted with an awkward smile, “I hate wearing dresses, you know.” She looked down at the black dress her mom forced her into, as dad’s suit was just on the side of too big. She looked back up at Steve… Steve’s grave. “I tried to convince them to let me write Dingus on your grave, but they weren’t having it. They said something about insulting the dead, but they don’t understand what it means to us.” She licked her lips. “I’m surprised Tammy Thompson didn’t show up. I bet her singing would have woken you right up.” Robin snapped her fingers and began singing a “Kermit'' rendition of ‘Candle in the Wind’. She laughed and snorted, before she frowned and paused. “I should’ve woken you up. I shouldn't have let you sleep. Fuck, I—I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” She took a shuddering inhale. “I fucking hate The Fox and the Hound, Steve! You call that shit comforting? That movie’s your favorite? It’s depressing as shit, Dingus, and it makes me cry every time I watch it! A-A-And we were both scared. I should’ve forced you to sleep on the couch or-or gone with you. We should’ve been there for each other! I should’ve…” Robin interrupted herself with a gasp, like she was in pain. Then again, she was in pain. The kind of pain where there’s a stab in your chest from a knife that you can’t get out. No matter how much you claw at your skin and rip away your clothing, that knife stays. It’s not heartbreak. It’s not jealousy. It’s not rage. It’s guilt. It starts in your chest, and it spreads to the rest of your body like a slow building wildfire. And similar to a slow wildfire, you don’t notice it until the trees are all burning and there’s more smoke than clouds in the sky. “I should’ve saved you.” she glanced at the word ‘hero’ carved into his stone. “It should’ve been me.”

Robin went home after talking to Steve’s grave for another hour. She talked until the faucets in her eyes went dry and the numbness felt like a lump of burning coal in her throat. “I’m not hungry.” She muttered to her mom on the way to the bathroom. They had one bathroom in the house, but Robin didn’t give a shit. She spent nearly three hours there, staring at the mirror. Staring at her bruises. Staring at the dark circles and large, purple mark on her neck from where they pressed that needle into her skin. Staring at someone living. Someone who didn’t deserve to be.

In movies, it always rains at funerals. It didn’t rain. Of course, it didn’t. Steve hated the rain. “It ruins my hair, and it’s miserable and gray.” Instead, it was a cloudless day and hotter than the fireworks that burned the Mind Flayer. Robin was left sweating in her funeral outfit, so she got into the shower sometime during hour two of crying. She sat down in the tub instead of standing and cried with the water. Turns out, she hadn’t run dry, she just ran out of excuses to cry at Steve’s grave instead of going home where her parents would do nothing but pity her and care for her. She didn’t want pity; she wanted Steve. “I wish you were here, Steve.” She whimpered, calling out to her lost friend.

Her friend, who was sitting outside the bathroom door. Steve, who was still in his Scoops uniform and wishing he changed his clothes before he went to sleep. Steve, who had his elbows resting on either knee as he held his head in his hands. Steve, who was sobbing and crying along with Robin. “I’m right here…” he repeated. He lost how many times he had said the sentiment, but he was sure it was in the thousands by now.

“I’m right here.”

[nburkhardt]

Steve has seen many weird things in his life, the last three years especially. Seven foot tall monsters, demo dogs, a girl with super powers, Russians under the mall. Traumatizing stuff, but over all weird stuff. Before all that happened, he thought the weirdest things would be little kids eating flowers or Munson climbing on tables at lunchtime.

But this? This takes the cake.

~~~~~

Vecna is defeated and done, burnt to a crisp with a shit ton of holes in his body thanks to Nancy’s sawed off shot gun. Before they leave the body, Nancy takes one last shot to his head just in case.

They’re walking back to leave when they notice all the dead demo-bats and… and a body.

Seeing Eddie dead on the ground hurts, makes their success bitter and now what do they do? All of them were supposed to make it out, defeat the evil and then celebrate all together. They can’t do that now. Whatever good feeling they had is gone, evaporated into the air with only a numbing sensation left in its place.

Getting out of the upside down with a dead body takes work but they make it happen. They refuse to leave him behind, they’ll bury him and make sure everyone knows that Eddie Munson was a good person. He helped save people, NDA be damned. Nancy is already swearing up and down that whatever cover up will include Eddie in good light.

They won but they lost and none of them know what to do now.

~ Two Weeks Later ~

Saving the world only feels good in the moment. That adrenaline rush feels incredible, but it never lasts long enough for Steve. This time especially with losing someone he thought maybe they could be friends.

It’s even worse because he has to work. He helped save the world and yet he’s back at his pointless job, putting tapes on shelves for a living and listening to mom’s complain about their kids grabbing pg13 movies without them knowing, only finding out when it’s playing and then “….skin showing! They are only twelve! I cannot believe you would let just anyone rent this, this is not responsible. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Steve blinks at her, bored and not ashamed at all. Since, “Ma’am, you rented this out. It says so on the computer here.”

She only scruffs at him before turning around to march back out of the store with the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving him alone, still bored out of his mind. It’s the one day where Robin isn’t working with him, leaving him to do both stocking and working the register. It’s made worse by people’s complaints, weird preverts and kids trying to rent rated r tapes.

“Save the world, still gotta work a nine to five” he mumbles to himself and dropping his head against the counter with a groan. He has another few hours of this, it’s already a long day.

“Ya know, maybe you should put that on a shirt, it’s a great conversation starter”

Steve jolts up with wide eyes because that’s a voice he hasn’t heard in two weeks, can’t hear that voice because the body it belongs to is buried six feet under ground in the goddamn cemetery. He should know because he visited the grave yesterday.

But right in front of him is clearly Eddie Munson with a smirk and still in the goddamn hellfire shirt, leather jacket with his dumb ripped jeans and bullet belt. His face is clean, no trace of bites or even blood. There is something off about him, like he’s fuzzy and not in focus. Which is weird because Steve swore he put contacts in this morning.

“What the fuck?” Is the only thing he can manage to say, he feels frozen staring at the man he grieved, “Munson, what the- you died!”

Eddie cocks his head to the side with a frown and goes to pat his body when the goddamn bell from the door rings and suddenly he just vanishes. Evaporated into thin air.

“No greeting?”

He shakes his head to clear it, maybe- maybe he’s seeing things. Maybe it’s due to only getting three hours of sleep last night, or maybe it’s from lack of water and food today. Hell, maybe it’s from the endless concussions he gets.

“Kid you good?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah- I’m,” he shook his head again before plastering his customer service smile on before looking at the guy in front of him, “I’m good, sorry. How can I help you?”

He pushes the idea of seeing Eddie out of his mind, a quick late rush of customers and one shitty sandwich for his break and he’s done with work for the day.

Not only is it the one day Robin doesn’t work, but it’s dnd night and he still drives Henderson to the Wheelers house. So, he only has time for a quick change of clothes before leaving his house to grab the kid.

Since Mrs. Wheeler insists on feeding him, he ends up sitting in the basement listening to the kids bicker over the game. It’s a nice distraction from the day.

Once he’s back at home, enjoying a hot shower. Singing ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)’ to himself, taking his time washing his hair

“There's not a soul out there, No one to hear my prayer” he sings out while pushing out the soap in his hair, “gimme, gimme gimme a man after-“

“Midnight!” Another voice joins in and he screams, opening his eyes and everything is blurry since he took his contacts out and with the steam from the water. But that was definitely another voice and not just any voice, but fucking Eddie’s voice. “You got a decent voice, Harrington. Or maybe it’s just that you’re in the shower”

Sliding the shower door, he blinks hard to clear his vision and hopefully see. Then like at work, there’s a fuzzy looking Eddie wearing the same outfit he died in. He’s leaning over with a smirk, “Big Boy, indeed, Harrington”

His eyes widen and he closes the door with a slam, trying his hardest not to slip while freaking the fuck out. “You’re going crazy, that’s it. It’s gotta be, he’s dead and you’re feeling guilty. Eddie Munson is dead and buried, there is no way he’s here and fucking saw my-“

“Oh, I definitely saw you, that nickname was just to make you flush but fuck is it everything now.” Eddie’s voice interrupts him, and it seems closer now but he’s eyes are shut. He’s squeezing his eyes closed while also using one arm to cover it up too. “Aw, come on, big boy! I’ve been trying to get someone- anyone to see me!”

He hears both amusement and desperation in the voice, but he can’t move now. The water is turning cold and he can’t move because he’s going crazy. “Maybe, maybe it’s brain damage! That’s gotta be it”

“Harrington- Steve, I swear on Dustin’s mother. I’m here, like really here. Don’t- I don’t know why, or how, but I am” Eddie’s voice is just desperate now, no trace of amusement. “I’m-“

Steve shakes his head moving his arm away before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, immediately finding a frown on Eddie’s transparent face. “There’s- there’s no way. You’re just a figment of my imagination- my brain’s way of dealing with your death. I- I wasn’t even your friend.”

He watches as Eddie frowns, nods then just…vanishes.

His sleep schedule has been fucked up since 1983, maybe even before that actually. Having parents that liked to travel and grandparents that wanted to know their only grandchild. Traveling didn’t help his sleep schedule, then 1983 when they trapped and attacked the demogorgon, it became nearly nonexistent.

Tonight is no exception. He’s been tossing and turning for two hours now, it’s nearly three in the morning.

“Okay, before you say anything-“

He bolts upright with a racing heart, looks around and again, there’s a fuzzy transparent Eddie Munson. He’s currently floating at the end of his bed and his face it looks tired. Like he’s the one who can’t sleep, too wired and worried.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…again. But I thought maybe, maybe I could help? You seem restless… which I guess I caused it today but! I can read to you,” he looks around, makes him frown and follows him. Noticing how bare his room is right now, “okay, maybe not read. But I can come up with something! Like like, about this tough king that’s secretly a huge softie and everyone doesn’t know about this side of him. He remembers the tiny details of his friends, or makes sure those who work for him are supported and loved. Everyone in this kingdom-“

He’s slowly pulled under sleep, his eyes slipping shut and the sound of a dead man’s voice makes his racing heart calm down enough for a deep sleep.

The next morning, there’s no Eddie. He chalks up that whole day to his brain being fucked up from all the concussions. There’s absolutely no way he kept seeing and unintentionally talking to Eddie, no way Eddie of all people would talk about him like that to help him fall asleep.

It’s just not possible.

——————

Another day goes by with his fucked up brain conjuring up Eddie, then another and another.

He accepts it after a week passes with Ghost Eddie. Mostly because it’s actually quite nice, once he got used to someone suddenly appearing and vanishing at random times. It became easy enough to actually fully talk to Ghost Eddie, admitting things he wouldn’t say to anyone else. Especially to an alive Eddie Munson, but that one he can’t talk to. So, he’ll take what he can get since talking things out with Ghost Eddie makes sleepless nights nearly nonexistent.

No one knows about it, he can’t bring himself to actually tell them how fucked his brain is now. Too afraid they’ll really think he’s stupid now.

“I’m telling you, that lady is definitely cheating on her husband. I heard her!” Ghost Eddie tells him as Steve is handing over a tape to said apparent cheater.

He doesn’t bother with faking a smile. Because he’s holding back a laugh at Ghost Eddie’s gossip, “Remember to bring this back next Thursday and to have it rewound for us. Have a great day!”

Once the bell jingles, it’s just him in the store with his now ghostly partner. He turns around to face said partner, “Dude, don’t gossip in my ear about the person right in front of me!”

Ghost Eddie rolls his eyes, “Stevie, no one else can hear me. I’m safe from assholes, remember I’m a ghost”

“Ha ha, very funny Munson. But you saying that shit is going to make me laugh and look like the crazy person I already am.” He rolls his own eyes, “I mean, I’m talking to a figment of my imagination right now. Someone heard this I’d be thrown in the loony bin”

“I keep telling you, I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m really a ghost dude, why can’t you-“

The bell from the door makes him jump, turning to find his friends standing right there.

———

This is totally inspired by a quote from Scooby Doo. Velma telling Shaggy, “there’s no such thing as ghosts” to which Shaggy says back, “well does the ghost know that?” And it made me laugh and thought what if 🤣 SO! We got Ghost!Eddie hanging around Steve.

We’re not going into specifics on how, we’re here for silliness and some angst. If anyone has suggestions on the conversion with his friends, I’m all ears 👀

@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme

[talanashta]

All Because of Some Fries - Chapter 1

For @dame-zoom-a-lot who requested "a rude customer" harassing Robin then Steve with Argyle to the rescue! Hope this hits the spot!

Rating: T | No CWs | Word Count: 1,283 | Pairings: Pre-/Early Spicy Six Plus Chrissy Polycule Additional Tags: Steve's POV

Chapter 1 of 2

Continuation of the "my lonely days are gone" series. Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A/N: Second chapter should be up in a day or two

Robin and Steve were just chilling at the counter at the Family Video, waiting – begging – for their shift to end.  Today had been one of the slowest they’d ever had, in contrast to yesterday where everyone and their cousin seemed to come in to rent.  The shelves were half-bare, the phone hadn’t rung once, and the closest they got to someone coming in was a man who went to open the door and realized, actually, the laundromat was the next door down, not this one.

Steve sighed for what felt like the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes.  “I’m gonna go grab us some fries.  Hopefully when I get back something happens,” he told Robin, pushing off the counter.

“Yeah,” Robin agreed from where she was lying on the floor, “or we’ll at least have fries.”

They’d long since reshelved their minuscule number of leftover returns from yesterday, so anything, including fries, was a welcome distraction in Steve’s mind, no matter how much he was trying to watch what he ate.  (He wasn’t in high school anymore, after all.)

When he got back from the small restaurant that ran out of the end of the strip mall the Family Video was in, carrying his bag of fries, Robin hadn’t moved an inch.  He dropped the greasy paper bag on her stomach and headed to the back.  “I’m going to go wash my hands!” he called as he walked.  “The counter was sticky when I picked up my food, and I can still feel it on my fingers.”

As he went to shut the bathroom door, he yanked it open quickly to yell, “And don’t eat them all before I’m back!” then shut it.

Steve decided to take the opportunity to pee, too, since it’d been a while since he’d taken a bathroom break, and then he noticed a… gray hair?  Of course, he had to investigate it.  Sure, he told the kids they’d turn him gray before he could legally drink, but now they were actually doing it!

He’d inspected about half his hair for additional grays when he heard a raised voice coming from the store floor.  Instantly, he was on alert, pulling the door open and rushing out to check on Robin.

There was a middle-aged man, towering over Robin, face red and hands waving in a very threatening manner.  He could hear the man yelling but couldn’t make out all the words because of his tone.  God, if Robin knew, she’d give him so much crap for not going to the audiologist like she’d told him to do after his last concussion.  From what he could hear, though, was that he was mad about Robin… eating?

Steve immediately went to step between the two.  “Sir, you can’t speak to her like that.”

“Oh?” the man asked, voice raising, and got up into Steve’s face.  “Who are you?  The manager?”

“No, the manager isn’t in right now.  If you’re going to continue to be aggressive, then you need to leave,” he said, as he reached his left hand back to make sure Robin was a safe distance away in case the man started swinging.

The man puffed up even more.  “You can’t tell me what to do!  You’re not in charge here, little boy.  Go get Daddy, and then maybe we’ll talk.  Until then, she needs to know what terrible service she’s providing by eating on the job!”

When the man tried to step around Steve to go for Robin, he shifted to block the way, but he knew he wasn’t great in a fight, and there wasn’t anyone else around to stop it if this man decided to instigate one.

Which is when the bell above the door rang.  Steve looked out of the corner of his eye, trying to also keep the man in his line of sight, to see Nancy enter the store, followed by Argyle.  He watched as Nancy took in the situation and puffed up, ready to intervene.  Only for Argyle to cut off her attack.

“Hey, brochachos,” Argyle said calmly as he maneuvered around Nancy and came farther into the store.  “Looks like we got a disagreement on our hands.”

Steve could see as the man pulled a more genial facade over himself and turned to speak to Argyle, “Nothing to worry about.  Just an issue of customer service.”  He tried to pat Steve on the shoulder, but Steve ducked away, keeping a safe distance between them now and still not taking his eyes off him.

“Sure not what it looked like to me, dude,” Argyle countered, coming closer to the man.

The man strained to smile at Argyle.  “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

While Argyle was talking, Steve saw Nancy walk in a wide loop to get to a better position.  Her shoulders were tense, and he could tell she was still pretty alert.

“Uh, I don’t think so, my man.  That’s okay.  Just, you know… a quick question.  Have you ever tried not being a dumbass?” Argyle asked so calmly, starting to peruse the magazines on display at the register.

“What?” the man asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I mean, like, it’d be a great day if you accidentally grabbed a glue stick instead of your chapstick, my man.  Not everyone needs to hear you be a whiny bitch about… what was it, Steve?”  Argyle pivoted to look at him.

Steve paused to make sure it wasn’t a rhetorical question, but it seemed Argyle was genuine.  “He was mad Robin was eating.”

Argyle nodded, sagely.  “Yeah, man, bad opinion.  Would’ve been better to keep that one to yourself,” he told the man.

The man started to puff up again and said, “You can’t speak to me like that!”

“Whoops, my bad, I could’ve sworn I was talking to an adult,” Argyle responded.  “Didn’t realize I’d be hurting your sensibilities by speaking the truth.”

All Steve could see was the man opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond.

“Did you hear that?” Argyle asked earnestly, pausing for a long moment.  He continued, “That’s the sound of me not caring about whatever you’re trying to say, dude.  Seriously, bro, were you born this stupid or did you take lessons?  Get out of here.”  He nodded to the door, before continuing to flip through the magazine.

Steve heard Argyle say under his breath, “Ooo, I need to recommend these guys to Jon.  Band looks pretty chill,” as he read the article.

The man didn’t move for another long, tense moment – on the part of everyone except Argyle – before finally tucking his tail between his legs and fleeing.

Once the door finally swung shut, Argyle closed the magazine and set it on the counter, saying, “Whelp, I’m glad that douchebag’s out of here.”

At last, Steve said, “Thanks, man,” feeling like he could finally talk and no longer was frozen in a state of conflict, trying to decide whether to fight or take Robin and flee.

Nancy sidled up to Argyle from where she’d positioned herself in case of the worst and gave him a soft smile.  “You surprised me,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” Robin chimed in.  “Where did that come from?”  

Steve nodded because he knew exactly how she was feeling; he felt it too, like the world tilted on its axis since Argyle could be so casually mean.  Sure, he could be a bitch, too, but he tried to rein it in, especially at work, and even then, he was more ‘mean girl,’ according to Robin, as opposed to someone who ripped apart your being like Argyle just did.

“Eh.”  Argyle just shrugged.  “California’s just a different place, dude and dudettes.”

Read Chapter 2

[shortnonsense]

Old Shoes

by M. James

I was 10 at one point. Now I’m not. I hate that.

My mom says I’m just like her, so I guess it’s written in stone, but maybe there is room to be my own person. My sister is not like me. She seems to know the answers before the questions and doesn’t even care that some of us ask why. But such is the life of the 13-year old daughter of an engineer. Dad says he wanted 3.25 children; I think that’s meant to be an engineer joke, but usually I lose track of time when he says anything over eight words. I wake up suddenly an hour later and I don’t know where I’ve been.

What was I saying?

Oh. 3.25 kids. Yeah, that math didn’t work out, and I have a sister and two twin little monsters—I mean, brothers. Their names aren’t important. What is important is that I used to be 10.

My mom had aspirations once, I think, but now she seems to be happy to get through the day. I’ve seen the degrees and pictures of her PKD (aka pre-kid days), and she looked happier then. I know she loves us, and we make her happy also; it’s just that I don’t think she has spoken with her face lately to get on the same page with her heart.

When I was 10, it was just me and my sister, which meant is was mainly just me. My sister tends to live above us all. Now it’s all noise, and movement, and…where are my old shoes? I’ve been going through my closet for hours, and all I can think about was that I was 10 once. And that is when I went to the mall to buy shoes.

“Clara!” I heard my dad yell from downstairs, and most likely from the garage. I’m sure he’s been sitting in the car waiting on me. I guess I’ll be late again. But I really wanted to wear those old shoes to school today!

“Clara! Get in the car! You’ve had three tardies this month already, and I don’t want to have another meeting with your teacher!” yelled dad.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back.

“…then I told her to mind her own business, but she kept asking. I walked out and told her that I could do what I wanted, that she wasn’t even my real mom…” droned my friend/acquaintance that I’m required to listen to since we are lab partners in third period life science. Her name? Not really important, either. I mean—names just come and go, in the next class it will be another name, going on and on about something they know I don’t really care about, but have to act like I care about it because of all of this forced socializing. My mom says I’m an introvert. I think I just don’t like most people. And I think I just want to get this report done, but I’m the only one working.

“Class, take your seats. Open your text books to page 324. Anyone remember what we discussed yesterday?” shouts Mrs. Life Science Teacher, ending my suffering. Now for the “sit and try to listen to someone else” time. But really, I do like school. I just remember liking it more when I was 10. Now I feel like one of those little metal balls bouncing around inside one of the games they always show on retro shows about the 1980’s. I just bounce from one name to the next, smiling and nodding. Till 4 pm when I get to go back home, to my room, to my closet. Where are those old shoes?

The drive home is quiet. It is March and rainy, which means it’s that stretch of school between Spring Break and Summer with no days off, and everyone, including the teachers, are just trying to get to the end of the year without a major incident. Last year, that one boy got sick after his family trip to Mexico, and he spent several weeks in the hospital. We made cards. What was his name? I don’t remember. I do remember drawing a sun on the card I made him. I don’t know why we draw suns on cards, maybe they’re supposed to make people happy or something.

“BOOM!”

An explosion rocks the car, and I have no idea what is happening. The explosive noise jerks me out of my thoughts, and I find I am now gripping my sister’s hand tightly enough to make her squeal and rip here arm away.

“Hold on!” screams my mom in a way that makes me think she is really yelling at herself. Her usual, casual grip on the steering is now a stern 10 and 2. The car starts to weave and shake as the tire makes this loud throbbing sound. We all start to collectively realize the tire has blown as the car slows to a halt on the inside shoulder of a very busy Interstate 10. Jacksonville is busy at 4:30pm on a Tuesday, and we are no longer in the flow of busy parents trying to pick up their kids between work and soccer practice.

Time stops. Life was going at the speed of a school day, and then nothing. Cars blow by, making us shake with each passing. What now? This is certainly a first. Nothing ever interrupts the drive to and from school, except for that one time I forgot my backpack with my book report on the life of Alexander the Great. I got a C +. But now life has been interrupted. My mom is trying to get my dad on the phone while my sister starts quoting standard procedures for times of emergency.

“Yes, on the side of the road! We’re stuck out here, and I am not getting out of this car in this kind of traffic! We’re lucky we didn’t flip!” my mom blurts as she tries to get all the words out at once to my dad, who clearly has been interrupted from some important work meeting. “Okay, okay, you’re right, we’re fine. Yes, I’ll call our road-side assistance. Yes, we’ll sit tight.” Her words become slower as we all start to settle into the situation.

A few minutes later we all have our eyes locked on little blue and red converging dots that tell us exactly how soon our salvation will arrive. I’m starting to feel like maybe this is the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced. I have never been in this situation before, and it is so foreign to me. I have seen cars on the side of the road and have wondered what it would be like to be in such a helpless situation; now here we are, here I am. Helpless, dependent on the blue dot to get here as fast as possible. I wonder how in the world this person coming to our aide will even be able to get to us since the cars appear to be going 100 miles an hour, mere inches from my door! We, of course, have no idea what the damage might be to our gold 2010 Camry. It is going to be mine one day, my sister always jokes, because she plans to buy her own, much better car, but now…who knows. That noise makes me wonder if anything is left back there. I had no idea a tire popping could make such a noise.

Finally, an hour later, the dots finally become one, and the tow truck we saw zip by 15 minutes ago has finally swung back around is was slowly positioning itself on the shoulder to get even with our car. While waiting, Mom called several times to yell at several people. I think she really had to pee, and the call center couldn’t solve that particular problem. Turns out there were only two trucks in our part of Jacksonville today, and the other one is stuck in the middle of a 4-car pile up on the 95. Just our luck to blow a tire on Tommy’s day off. That is name of the driver of what would have been the third truck, the one who might have been able to get to us 30 minutes sooner. Which would have been a whole 30 minutes sooner to find out that our car doesn’t just need a new tire, it needs to be towed to the shop to fix the axle, our driver explains.

Tommy. That was a name that was important. Isn’t that odd. A name of someone not there was more important to me than all of those who were there, all the time, and never went away. Tommy was important because if he had been the one to stumble out of his rusted rig I might be that much closer to finding my old shoes. Now, this other guy, who smells like he lives in his tow truck, is trying to work out what the plan will be with my mom, who is getting more and more frustrated. She must really have to pee now.

One more call to Dad, more time waiting in the car, and soon it has been explained to my sister and I that we need to choose. Go with Mom and the Camry in the tow truck, or go with Dad in his car. Not like I get a vote, but it’s nice of Mom to phrase it like I do. As my sister argues the merits of her going with Dad, I watch the tow truck driver begin to hook up the Camry to this big crane-looking thing. Why can’t we just ride in the Camry like normal when it’s being towed? It doesn’t seem like it matter to me whether we ride in the car like normal or ride in the car while someone pulls us. Things like this didn’t ever happen when I was 10.

Jake. His name is Jake. Our driver. It says so on the little patch on his shirt. And just like that I am now aware of two important names. But Jake isn’t important like Tommy is. Jake is important because I cannot believe I am going to have to sit on his gross seat, in his gross truck, smelling his gross smells, all the way to wherever cars go to get fixed when they blow up on Interstate 10 after school on a Tuesday. I slide as close to Mom as I can. You’d think a vehicle that literally pulls other vehicles around would have a back seat, but this one barely even has a front seat! And what surface area that does exist is littered with Big Mac cartons and wrappers from what must be his favorite corner store snack.

My mom and I sit still in the cab of the truck while Jake finishes up. My dad picked up my sister 20 minutes ago and left us to die. That’s probably just me being dramatic. But that’s what it feels like. Why couldn’t we all go with my dad? Great question. But I guess 13-year old girls named Clara who used to be 10 don’t get those kinds of answers.

My mom busies herself on her phone, texting with friends about the ordeal, while I watch Jake in the rearview mirror. There is a radio, which is something. He has it on some station that primarily features people arguing about the recent blowout loss by the Jaguars. I was actually aware of this recent happening since I remember my dad yelling at the TV on Sunday, saying many of the same things these people are conveying. I myself am thoroughly disinterested in football, or sports, or most things people argue about with strangers.

I jump when the door opens and Jake hops in to sit next to me with much more athletic prowess than I would guess a man of his weight could accomplish.

“Hey there!” Jake says through an awkward grin. Something tells me he doesn’t get many 13-year old passengers.

“Hi,” I find myself whispering back, with what is most likely an equally awkward smile. I had been so wrapped up in my critique of Jake’s apparent lack of workplace cleanliness that I had lost track of his movement. I am not ready for this conversation, and now I am having it, and he is way closer than I expected. This middle seat must have been designed for three very small people, not one large man in his mid 50’s, one regular-sized mom, and one me.

“Pretty crazy, right?” Jake asked. “That tire of yours really messed up your back quarter panel. Your car may take a few weeks get it up and running again.”

“Huh,” I mutter, trying to find some similar personal experience that will make me able to in some way say something relevant to the point Jake is making. I fail. This is why we have phones. To give us something to stare at instead of doing whatever we have to do right now. But no, I have to wait another year till that magic age of 14 to have a phone. I guess in six months I’ll be responsible. Until then, It’s just me.

Jake cranks up the engine as we try to ease into the closest lane. Soon, we are up to speed, and I see that our destination has already been loaded into the GPS. To my relief we are in store for a fairly short drive. At least I thought. But at this point my mom states that if we do not stop for a bathroom, she will just have to go then and there. Which is not that worst thing you can hear from you mom while riding in a cramped, smelly tow truck, but It’s probably on the top 10. Top 5 even.

Five minutes later, we pull into a 7-11, where Mom grabs me out of the truck, and we both run to the bathroom. The trip back to the truck is much slower, and mom is evidently feeling much better. We climb back up into the truck, and Jake begins to ease the gas down as we drive back out onto the frontage road. He must have found time to grab another of his favorite snacks while we were in the girls’ room, and as he struggles with the wrapper, I hear him let out what I can only describe as sorrow. “Oh man, this does not look good,” he states, like we are both examining recent roadkill. He points to the GPS screen, and it dawns on me that our route, which was very much green, is now red, and red is bad. In the time it took for our little side trip, something must have changed on our path that turned our quick 20-minute drive into over an hour. Soon we find ourselves sitting in what might as well have been a five-mile long parking lot on the interstate. After several minutes of no movement, we all watch with horror as the time to our destination grows exponentially bigger and bigger. Sirens make themselves known in the distance, slowly gaining volume as they pass by us, rushing to whatever accident has caused all of this, and with that, Jake turns off the ignition. This, in my mind, is the same as holding up the white flag of surrender. Bottom line—I am now looking at over an hour of forced, awkward conversation with someone I never should have even met.

Did I say I don’t like people? Yes, I think I did. And my mom is no help, becoming more and more absorbed in some article she is reading that was posted on her favorite blog.

Jake sighs, looks in the mirror, then asks, “So, how old are you?”

“13,” I say.

“I used to be 13,” Jake states, like it is a revelation from God.

“I have these old shoes,” I say to Jake several minutes later. “I’ve been looking for them for days. They are my favorite shoes, even though I haven’t worn them in a while. I bought them when I was 10. I used to be 10.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this fact about my current state of being. But somehow my conversation with Jake is going differently than the back and forth banter I usually endure from classmates and my sister.

Jake goes on to describe what it was like to be 13, a young boy, being raised by a single mom in North Carolina. He moved to Florida when he was 30 and has bounced around from one job to the next ever since. Never being able to get back to that feeling of unfiltered opportunity like he had when he was 13.

It’s like he is searching for something that he has lost and can’t seem to find it. Now he’s 54, driving a tow truck around Jacksonville 6 days a week, is admittedly overweight, doesn’t have many friends, and often thinks about his life choices that have led him here. But mainly, he remembers that he used to be 13.

I used to be 10. “When I was 10,” I continue, “my dad took me to the mall one day, and I saw these shoes in the window of Macy’s, and I begged him for them. Eventually, he let me try them on, and after some more begging, I was walking out of the store with them wrapped up in this big, expensive-looking bag.”

“They sound nice,” Jake interjects. I know there is no way he can understand the feeling of buying new shoes as a young girl, but it is nice of him to try.

“The reason these particular shoes were such a big deal is that up till that point, every pair of shoes I ever wore had first been worn by my older sister.

“Ah!” Jake slips out, with comprehension that leaves me surprised. “Hand-me-downs, yes, those were common in my family. I was an only child, but with my mom being low on cash most of the time, I got my wardrobe out of a bag of clothes that was left on our doorstep by the family down the street that had two older boys, and they loved to point out the fact that I was always wearing clothes they were going to throw away.”

I let that statement linger a few minutes. We actually get to move forward about a quarter mile before yet another full stop. Another tow truck passes by to hopefully help clear the congestion several miles ahead.

“I wore those shoes every day for the whole school year,” I eventually say. “They were more than shoes, they were opportunity and freedom. They were truly mine, not something that was just mine now. Somehow, though, I lost track of them over the summer—I hardly ever wear actual shoes during the summer since it’s all flip flops and swimming. Then, when it was time to go back to school, there were more shoes in my closet, and I guess I just moved on. But now I’m 13, and I used to be 10, and I just want to find those old shoes.”

Jake looks at me for a while. My mom shifts positions, somehow able to tune out our conversation, aside from occasional comments about this traffic and how she had no idea it would take this long.

Finally, Jake’s eyes brighten, and he seems to have stumbled upon some kind of realization. “I’m sorry you can’t find your old shoes,” he says. “They sound very important to you. It is difficult growing up, leaving things behind, figuring out the new things.”

I look at him sideways, wondering how he jumped to that conclusion. I was talking about my shoes. I just want to find my old shoes. I wasn’t talking about growing up, or whatever.

Jake goes on. “I used to be 13, and the world fit inside my bedroom. One day I turned 14, then 15, then 16, and suddenly the world didn’t fit anymore. My world had gotten larger, but sometimes I’d think back on what it was like to be 13. I still do. Just like I think about what it was like to be 25 and 40. When I could run and not ache, or when I still had my mom, or when I still had dreams and goals. Now I look at the world rush by, as I sit on the side of the road. The only time I catch up to anyone is when they crash or break down. ‘Forced timeouts,’ I call them.”

He went on. “There are things, experiences, people even, that lock us into a time in our lives. It makes it easier to remember what it was like then after so much has changed. Our world moves on, but those things are locked in time. Like your old shoes.”

Jake pauses with that and lets his words drift through my mind. I was starting to think Jake was an important name for more reasons than I first assumed.

“I used to be 10,” I said, “and it was so much easier. Things made more sense to me, and now so much doesn’t. It was just me and my shoes. I just want to find them again.”

I wave goodbye to Jake as he pulls out of the repair shop parking lot. His is a name I will remember. My mom finishes speaking with the manager, working out the plan and cost of the repairs. It had taken so long for us to arrive that my dad is now able to swing by after finishing up at the office. My sister has been home for hours. I slide into the back seat next to a large garbage bag.

“Oh, just move that over, Honey. I forgot I still had that back there. I was supposed to drop it off at your cousin Ellie’s house last week,” explained Dad.

I stare at the bag as a thought begins to form. It is mixed with the story that Jake shared, the one about the bag of hand-me-downs he received from the people down the street from him. I untie the knot in the bag and peer inside. Just as I suspect, it is filled with clothes. My cousin is a few years younger than us, and since my younger brothers won’t be wearing my clothes, my parents often bag them up and drop them off for her to use. As I dig through the bag, I recognize shirts and dresses from years past. Some I remember liking, others I rarely wore.

Then my hand brushes against something hard under the stack of shorts. I have a rush of adrenaline as I reach in to grasp the item, pulling it into the light. “My old shoes!” I exclaim, apparently louder than intended, as my mom jumps at the sound.

“Yes, Honey, I put those in the giveaway bag months ago. You never wear them, and I don’t think they even fit you anymore,” explained Mom.

I hear her words, but they somehow don’t hit the mark she intends. Instead, I want to lash out, my anger stirred after such a difficult day. I am about to scream at her, tell her how she should never have thought to give away my favorite shoes, when something stops me.

I picture a 13-year old Jake, sitting in his room, playing. I used to be 10. I remember running to school in these shoes. I loved how I felt in them. They were mine, and the world made sense. But I’m not 10 anymore, just like Jake isn’t 13. Our worlds have grown, and for me 13 is scary, but it’s what I am. I need to stop looking for my old shoes, let someone else have them.

I slide them back in the bag and let it settle to the floorboard. “You’re right, I say to Mom. Ellie will love them. They are great shoes.”

After a few more minutes of driving, I ask, “Mom, can I go to a party next weekend? It’s a birthday party for my friend from Life Science class.”

“Probably,” says my mom. “What’s her name?” she asks.

“Shelby.”

[camillecrowbar]

So Basically, I Piss in Cups for Junkies

I piss in cups for junkies. High schoolers, yuppies, half-way housers– I’ve met and pissed for just about everyone. This includes people with a lot at stake, and I mean a lot. It’s not just to get people jobs at Goodwill or the library– I’m helping people get their kids back, helping them stay out of jail. People are willing to pay a lot for what they want, and the things they want most require sobriety. Which is where I come in: decently clean kid looking for any way to make money other than working at the mall. God, I hate the mall. And while technically what I’m doing is a crime, I do think that it’s a pretty reasonable price to pay for not ending up at some phone kiosk or frogurt shop. I guess I also do it to stop myself from ending up like my parents, who have been getting high since they were like five– and while may hold decent jobs and run a somewhat functional household– truth is they aren’t very happy and they’re definitely not very good people. 

I had skipped the fourth period to make a deal with this pregnant lady who was hardly showing and yet already needed a sample to pass some kind of fetal alcohol test. A couple days before, she had sent me the address of a coffee shop a block from the nearest OB GYN, one I was already somewhat familiar with because of the job and my mom’s appointments. Usually I was the stand in for what was supposed to be the father of my would-be brother or sister. My mom would get really depressed right after and I was there to give her the whole your body, your choice talk to make her feel better. I’m sure it made her feel a whole lot worse though because I was probably only reminding her that rarely ever were these appointments what she wanted– mainly what my dad or what some other married guy wanted her to do. Needless to say, I didn’t have the best memories of the place. 

I met the lady at the coffee shop and went to the bathroom to take my leak. I returned the cup to her in a brown bag, like I was some mom giving her kid lunch. She was wearing this real big pull-over that took forever for her to work through the pockets of. She finally found the twenty bucks and I took the money and told her to take care. As I was leaving a big man rolled in– real tough looking guy, dark glasses, bald head, the whole deal. I’m not jerking you either, he really looked like some Russian spy from a Sean Connery movie or something. And I’m not sure if it was just that or if I had met him before, but I remember looking back at him twice. I guess it could also have been that he just looked an awful lot like the usual guys I pissed for– wallstreet kinds of guys, but also, the ones on probation for domestic violence. Maybe I’d just met so many seedy kinds of people that their faces had begun to blur together.

Call it premonition, telekinesis, what have you– I’m not a particularly superstitious person, but I got a gut feeling and was unsurprised to see him immediately go up to the woman who had just bought my urine. He stuck his mouth right by her head, saying something into her hair, only he wasn’t whispering. I could hear him from where I stood, which was to say that he was definitely hurting her ears. He said something about “moving this outside” and they walked toward me and the door. The woman didn’t look at me once as they left. 

I tried giving them a minute to walk on ahead before leaving, just cause this guy had seriously no consideration for the conversations and thoughts of those around him– his baritone invading the brains of anyone within a one-hundred foot radius. It took them a hell of a lot longer than just a minute to walk over to his car though, he had a wide limp or something. By the time they finally got in the car, I was still standing at that same spot by the door. After a couple of people had entered and left the shop, I decided I needed to either stay or leave the place. I really didn’t want to go home, so I took a seat by some window, thinking maybe I could look at the beautiful view of the highway and strip malls. 

The coffee shop eventually closed, and I was kicked out. I had to walk back home, but wasn’t worried about making it there late– my parents wouldn’t notice until the next morning, when my dad would no doubt say at breakfast, “it’s awfully quiet around here,” then chuckle before finishing the punchline: “Charlie must be dead.”

Once I was about half-way home, a strange thing happened. There was this lady– naked– standing in the middle of the road. Her face was turned away from me, but there was something familiar in the shape of her. Like the jerk from the coffee shop, she had the body of the kind of woman I was very familiar with. Emaciated, skin pucked with meth acne. She was also very dirty. From what I could see, there were brown smears down the backs of her thighs, and when she turned towards me, I noticed there was something red dripping down the hollow between her breasts. She looked right at me but I still couldn’t register her face in my mind. She had what a lot of people would consider a baby-face, which made me sad. She looked like some of the girls from junior high, fat cheeks and thin lips. Her eyes were small, but in them was something not at all like the middle school girls I had ever known. She had this look in them, one I’d only ever seen in large grazing animals, like cows or horses when they’ve been startled. Like when their eyelids would peel back all the way and expose the delicate flesh underneath. For some reason, I think it was my presence which startled her, and not whatever-the-hell had put her in the middle of the road butt-naked in the first place.  What freaked me a hell of a lot more though was when she suddenly began running in my direction. I spun around and tried sprinting back the way I’d come, back towards the coffee shop. She was only one house away when there was this loud as hell noise and she fell to the ground. I was honestly relieved, I thought she was running at me to molest me or shank me or something.

There was a breeze that had started to pick up, rustling the tops of the trees that lined the street. It carried the smell of blood and shit from her. I figured I couldn’t just keep running away– that I ought to do something. She was either dead, or about to be. Only thing I could really think of doing was running home and calling for help there. I had to cut through some prissy backyards and get on a parallel street to avoid whoever the hell had shot the woman. As I ran back home, I saw a man on the street I had just run from through the gaps between the houses. It was the same guy from the coffee shop and he was holding this huge gun– the woman shot must've been the pregnant lady I had sold my piss to. I slowed down to see where he would go and saw him get into his beat-up car with the dangling license plates. The car reminded me a lot of a guy I had sold piss to a month before. Same crappy car, same stolen plates. 

He drove off, his tires streaking across the pavement. To shoot a lady in the middle of a suburban neighborhood was just stupid. Those neighborhood watch freaks fantasize about anything that remotely resembles crime– they would do anything to be the hero who beats the crap out of the first homeless person to loiter on their sidewalk.

By the time I made it home, I had already vomited twice. Maybe it was the running, or maybe it was just that I had seen a woman get shot, but the thing that got me the most was my overthinking. I’m not a particularly anxious person, but I kept ringing my hands over my hair, my forehead, trying to figure out what I should do or say when I called the cops. More than anything, I just wanted to be able to talk to my mom. She would know what I should do, and for once, I would actually listen to whatever she said. 

When I came in through the front door, the house was dark, unsurprising as it was early morning by then. My parents were splayed out on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. 

“Mom,” I whispered, “Dad.”

I came closer and saw the outline of some mugs and plastic bags around them. On my parent’s arms were some shoelaces. Some horse was left on the table in a Tylenol bottle. The phone was to the right of me, in the kitchen. I heard it buzz on its dial, the empty sound filling the entire room like it always had. There was a window in the living room, open and letting in some air. Flowers, barely alive because nobody ever watered them, lined the window’s trim. My feet shuffled across the carpet as I went to lay my parents fully down, packed tight on the couch like they were in a coffin together. I turned them both on their sides, backs together, so that they’d be facing away from one another when they awoke. My dad could’ve suffocated from his face being pressed into the cushions– but I wasn’t at all thinking about that. I was just thinking about what I had witnessed, what I now had to do, and that I couldn’t ask my mom for help anymore. Not that she would give me any worthwhile advice anyways. 

When I was waiting for the emergency receiver to pick up, I watered those tulips that lined the window. That did nothing but drown them, but it was still more than anything my family had ever done for something other than themselves.

After leaving the emergency operator with a message, pretending I was some good samaritan reporting on a pregnant woman passed out in the street, I left home. Before I went, I took the horse and my skateboard. I figured my whole conscious and entire boyhood was basically ruined by everything I had done in the past year alone. I was not a good person, though I really tried to be sometimes. 

I parked myself at the skatepark and waited until late morning when all of the unemployed twenty-somethings showed up. I sold the horse to some skinny white guy. Probably was his first time buying heroin, cause he let me rip him off by a few hundred. I just really needed the money.

[monstermaster13]

Corey and Oats in…

Honor Among Microbes: A D&D adventure.

Corey and Oats loved going on adventures together and exploring and making new friends, one new friend Corey spotted at Glenfield and wanted to meet was the Phunny Beholder plush because the Beholder looked a lot like him only with one eye and tentacles with lots of eyes sticking out of its back, he decided it would be fun to meet him and on this very day they did just that…after Mel made them a morning tea snack and a sandwich for lunch they all got in the van and got ready, heading to Glenfield.

Upon arriving at Glenfield they went on the escalator, Mel was no longer afraid of them and she took Corey and Oats with her and Oats trotted alongside her, looking glamorous as he did so. They made their way to EB Games on the top level of the mall and entered, they walked into the Dungeons and Dragons section and they saw the roleplaying guidebooks and the figures including characters from the animated show that was on Fox Kids and also from the new movie…’Ooh look, I see Michelle Rodriguez.’ ‘Yeah, I see her too..and there’s Chris Pine.’ ‘I see Hugh Grant too.’

That’s where they saw the beholder…the beholder could easily be mistaken for Corey with his round shape, except of course he was pink like Alcina was, and he had a round eye in the middle of his head and two cute fangs sticking out of his mouth. ‘Behold, it is…the Beholder.’ ‘Hello Mr Beholder, what is your name?’ ‘I am Aiyido, I have been stuck in a dungeon for so long and it has been very lonely and I am here to ask…will you take me home?’

“Sure.”

“Mommy…can we adopt him?”

“We sure can.”

Mel paid for him at the counter and he joined our two heroes on their little walk through the mall, and after their mall visit they picked up Zara and had a nice time together, Jeemo came an hour later and they all sang together and played and had a good time. Before-hand they had crackers for afternoon tea which was delicious.

But that was just one half of their adventure as they decided to go on another adventure, they had homemade burgers for dinner and after dinner they had a karaoke session but after that they decided to go on a d&d inspired fantasy adventure. Corey and Oats ran into the bedroom with Mel and looked in the bedbox, they found a mystical item that resembled a 12 sided dice and they rolled it, which opened up a portal to what appeared to be a fantasy world styled after their very own home.

Mel looked at herself as she saw she had become a warrior princess type character, she had gained quite a bit of musculature on her arms and on the rest of her as well. Oats had become a fairy princess horse with a variety of spells, and Corey had become a friendly beholder just like his new friend. The duo looked around with Mel as they saw Zara who was depicted as a humanoid lion-like princess, Nieve who was depicted as a humanoid equine princess, Mariah who was depicted as an ent, and some of their microbial friends.

“Are you the heroes we’ve been searching for?”

“Sure but what do you mean by that?”

‘The dark queen Carmelica has been sending her evil armies after anyone who doesn’t obey her commands. You must stop the evil armies from harming the people of this world.’ ‘We can do that.’

The duo and Mel headed through the streets which were infested with undead beings who served as Carmelica’s servants, the undead beings attempted to get at Corey and Oats but Corey used his eye beams to zap them. ‘Aiyido, you have some amazing powers.’ ‘I know, come on, let’s do this.’

Corey fought off a group of them before fighting off the shadow beasts, they traversed through the streets of Milford as they encountered numerous minions of the dark queens, that’s where Mel saw a koala warrior wearing red overalls and a hooded cloak, he was using an invention of his to fight off a horde. ‘Look Mel, a fellow koala-person, like you.’

The koala warrior put his weapon down and greeted Mel, introducing himself as ‘Prince Blinky’ a Marsupian rogue and the brother of Princess Nutsy, he showed the duo around and showed them all the monsters he had encountered. He explained that Queen Carmelica had sent her goblin-like henchmen to capture her because Carmelica wanted to raise Nutsy to become like her. ‘I can’t let that happen, what do you say guys, can I join ya?’ ‘Sure.’

Our heroes travelled through Milford mall, encountering various monsters and fighting them off…meanwhile the repulsive King Tepum was sitting on his throne, with a bulbous nose, sharp teeth, long ragged black hair and a mottled complexion, he was repulsive and horrifying and he was hyperfixated on making Dan Aykroyd his and his alone but Aykroyd would never love someone as repulsive as him.

Nobody loved Teppum except for his servants and even then he abused them and hated them. ‘How is that I can never have Dan but that freak Nathan always does? How is it I can’t have him but Nathan can not only have him but also fetishizes him and his dead best friend?’ ‘It’s not fetishization, sir…Dan and Nathan share the same power, he is an heir to the Aykroyd knighthood.’

This infuriated him, making him wave his arms up in the air….’It’s not my fault I was made like this, I used to be loved by everyone.’ ‘Well loved and feared.’ ‘DON’T correct me.’ He had been cursed to be grotesque and ugly by a sorceress due to his arrogance and attitude and he was told he would be stuck in that form forever. Nobody loved him, except his servants and even then as mentioned he was abusive, possessive and controlling, viewing them as possessions and not as real people with feelings.

Corey and Oats and Mel and Prince Blinky made their way to his fortress and fought off his army of ugly clones which looked like deformed versions of Ed Grimley, Aiyido the Beholder zapped some of the Childcatcher-like demons with his eye beams. And then they used some magic to unbrainwash some of his servants. ‘Good work team, yeah.’

The covid microbe explored the dungeon and as he did he found Nathan in there. ‘Nathan…you poor thing, what happened?’ ‘Tepum hates me for becoming the true heir to the Aykroydian throne and ever since I got knighted he has had it in for me.’

The duo rescued Nathan and defeated Tepum’s army before barging into Tepum’s chamber and taking him down with a combination of magic attacks, in addition to this they rescued Martin Short who had been captured by the evil king and they escaped the chamber and escaped his fortress before making their way across the street and over to Queen Carmelica’s evil lair. Upon reaching her lair, they did battle with all sorts of demons and monsters including Carmelica’s ‘Vegetable-People’ minions.

After defeating Carmelica’s minions, they solved some riddles and reached where Princess Nutsy was, Prince Blinky looked over at her and broke her free before hugging her, Corey and Aiyido used a special spell to undo what the evil queen had done to her before using their powers to reason with Carmelica.

Carmelica realized that what she had done was a mistake and she undid her evil magic, turning her servants back to normal. ‘Now, do you promise not to control people with your magic ever again?’ ‘Yes, I do. Thank you Corey, thank you Oats.’ The duo hugged the queen as she found herself becoming beautiful.

The former dark queen had realized that trying to control others via her magic was a bad idea and she apologized, hugging the duo..’I missed you, Blinky.’ Princess Nutsy confessed. ‘I am glad you are safe, now let’s go home.’ ‘Speaking of going home, I think we should head out.’

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

The koala-like prince and princess hugged each-other as Corey, Oats, Mel and Aiyido joined in the hug. After they hugged they used the magic item from before to use a magic spell to teleport them back to Nile Road, but not before saying goodbye to their new friends.

When they went back to Nile Road they emailed Jill about their adventure and of their fantasy adventure too and about their friend the beholder, they had a karaoke contest and after their karaoke contest was over they went to the bedroom and relaxed. A couple of hours later they brushed their teeth and got ready for bed.

Corey put on his bat pajamas as Oats put on a glamorous pink nightdress and matching slippersocks as Aiyido put on his little night-shirt with a dice design on it, Corey picked out Sam Sars and Aiyido to be his bed buddies and they all snuggled up and had sweet dreams.

When they drifted off to sleep the pegasus bed took them on a fantasy adventure where they encountered many monsters from the D&D universe.

[ledenews]

ARCHIVED: Fabio’s Remains a Fixture at the Ohio Valley Mall

(Publisher's Note: This article first appeared on LEDE News when pandemic restrictions remained in place throughout the tri-state region, but this place stood the test of very trying times and continues to offer one the valley's favorite slices of pie.) When the Ohio Valley Mall first opened in October 1978, the small pizza shop next to the hallway to Kaufmann’s was called Scotto’s Pizza. After 14 years, though, the name above the front door changed to Fabio’s Pizza after Tom Cracolici purchased the business and named it after his son. Kind of, and that’s because there is an interesting story behind the reasons why Cracolici named his son Fabio. “I named him after Fabio Grosso, who scored the winning goal when Italy last won the World Cup in 2006,” Cracolici explained. “My son is 28 now, and he works here, too, and Fabio has blessed me with a grandson this past Monday. Fabio's Pizza has been a very popular destination for mall patrons for nearly 30 years. “I came to America in 1974 because my father was a prisoner of war here, and he told us that it was the best time of his life. He got treated like a king even though he was a prisoner of war,” he said. “He was allowed to work even though he was a prisoner, and when World War II ended, he wanted his family to come here so we would have a better future. I don’t care what anyone says; this is the best damn country in the whole world.” But he still roots for Italy in the World Cup? “Of course,” Cracolici said with a masked smile. “I will always root for Italy.” The pizza buffet at Fabio's offers customers a wide variety of options. Pizza with Your Pandemic? At a time when the American public was learning how to distance and debating about wearing masks, the Cafaro Co. shuttered the Ohio Valley Mall while following the precautions mandated by Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine. Businesses like Boscov’s, Lids, Victoria’s Secret and yes, Fabio’s, were closed for two months. “That hurt. I cleaned the house. I went on walks. I cooked at home. And after the first few days I was going to crazy,” Cracolici recalled. “It made me wonder what people do when they don’t go to work every day. It was something I had not experienced. It’s not like I could go anywhere. I was stuck at home, so I just tried to stay busy. But then we were allowed to reopen in mid-May, and it hasn’t been easy at all. Thank God I have great customers and great employees. They all have been amazing, so I feel I have been blessed. “It’s kind of slow compared to this time last year, but I am hearing that most businesses are down from last year,” he explained. “It’s been a struggle with Covid. There are so many uncertainties right now. It seems as if it’s been one thing after another, but we just have to endure. I’m a warrior, so I’m not worried about it. As long as I pay my bills and stay ahead of the game, I’m fine. But we are down about 30 percent right now, so I’m hoping that it gets better pretty soon.” Tom Cracolici has three more years on his lease at the Ohio Valley Mall, and what happens after that will be a decision for his children. More Than Pie Fabio’s customers always enjoy the parade of pizza that rests under the shop’s front counter each day because there are the Sicilian and the Chicago style from which to choose. Cracolici’s menu, however, also features items he learned how to prepare from his family through the years, including the manicotti, spaghetti, rigatoni, stuffed shells, and several different hoagies and salads. “Pretty much everything we make is fresh,” Cracolici said. “We have our own spices, our own recipes, and all of the recipes are in my head, and that’s where they are going to stay. My kids know some of them, and if they ask, I will tell them, but it’s always about practice, practice, practice. Cracolici is very hands on at Fabio's as he assists his staff with everything from working the ovens to waiting on customers. “I get told that I should write everything down, but to me, it’s not the same,” he said. “When my mom cooked, it was a little bit of this, a little bit of this, and a little bit of this. That’s because if it’s in your head, it’s in your heart.” Cracolici is now 64 years old, and Fabio’s has three years remaining on its lease with the Cafaro Co. Whether or not Fabio’s Pizza renews the agreement is a decision that will be up to his children, and Cracolici did not rule out a move to the city of Wheeling. “We are thinking about making a change when our lease is up here,” he revealed. “My kids work here, so when the lease is up, that decision will be up to them. I love it here, and I love my customers, but at that time it’s their decision. “No matter what they decide, I will help them here or at a new place in Wheeling,” Cracolici said. “I am looking forward to cutting down a little. Just a little … not much. I get asked every day when I am going to retire, and I ask back, ‘And do what?’ I love what I do, the people I work with, and the people who come here for our food.” Read the full article

[sailortongue]

Jobs with the Haikyuu boys

includes: Bokuto Koutarou, Suna Rintarou, Ushijima Wakatoshi

genre: fluff

——————

Build-a-Bear Bokuto

a summer job wasn’t how you wanted to spend your break from school

but bokuto koutarou working in the store across from you is certainly a plus

you frequently get distracted bc you’re much more interested in watching him interact with the kids than selling bath and body products to customers

this boy has your entire heart 

it’s so obvious that he loves what he does

he gets so excited to make the stuffies “come alive”

your favorite days tho are the ones where he comes in to buy perfume to spray for the kids’ stuffies

he’s so precious

y’all share your lunch breaks together <3

You’d just finished directing a customer to a specific scent when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and found yourself standing in front of the ace and captain of your school’s volleyball team.

“Oh, hey, Bokuto. Need more perfume already?” You could feel your face redden just by talking to him. You’d been crushing on him since the first time you attended one of his games.

He chuckled, “Yeah, it actually seems pretty popular. Can you get the one I bought last time?” He looked so hopeful, as if you would say no. 1. How could anyone say no to him? And 2. It was literally your job.

“Of course, of course.” You immediately knew which one he wanted. You’d been the one to recommend it, afterall. Kids tend to like sweeter things and there was no sweeter scent than vanilla sugar. He brightened up immediately that you remembered the one he was talking about. It was on brand for Bokuto to not know the name of the scent he sprayed numerous times a day. You couldn’t lie though, you were kinda glad about it because it meant he had to talk to you.

He beamed when you had successfully navigated through the crowded store to the shelf with what he wanted. “Yes! Thank you so much, Yn!” He plucked one off the shelf before engulfing you in a hug and making his way to the register.

You didn’t see Bokuto again until your usual lunch meetup in the mall food court. He was running late, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary so you decided to go ahead and order your food. The food court didn’t have terribly many options, but a new Thai place had just opened so you figured you’d give it a shot.

You were already halfway through your meal by the time Bokuto ran up to your table huffing and puffing. You didn’t even get to greet him before he was shoving a large blue and white box into your hands. “Open it!” He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, positively giddy.

You giggled, “Okay, okay, I’m opening it!”

When you finally got the box open, you pulled out an owl plushie that smelled distinctly of vanilla. You gasped, “Oh, Bokuto, I love it! It’s so cute!”

“There’s more. Uhhh, I think it’s somewhere in the chest? Just squeeze until you find it, okay?”

You were confused what he could mean, but did as he instructed anyway. You eventually found out when you squeezed something hard and a recording of Bokuto’s voice came from the little plushy.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

——————

Movie Theater Suna

now that school was out you could finally look for a job to earn a bit of cash

lucky for you the local movie that was hiring

super lucky for you, you’ll be working with the one and only suna rintarou

the heartthrob from math class and middle blocker on the boys vball team

it’s a super easy job

all you have to do is check tickets before people walk into their respective rooms

it doesn’t take two people but you were paired up anyway

not that you were complaining

“Nah, you don’t need to show your tickets,” said Suna, waving the pair into the hall to continue to their movie.

You turned to him. “You need to do your job,” you deadpanned.

“Oh come on, the guy upfront tears the ticket when people walk in. You can’t even get this far without one, so what’s the point?”

He wasn’t wrong and all you could do was grumble in response. You wanted to smack that smug look off of his prettyboy face.

“SUNA!”

The boy in question didn’t even have to look over to know who that was. He groaned but otherwise ignored the loud-mouthed blond. 

“Hey, Suna,” greeted Kita. Suna said hey back, which apparently deeply offended Atsumu.

“How come ya said hey to him and not me?!”

“Because I actually like Kita,” answered Suna, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You cracked up at the quip from Suna, earning the attention of his teammates.

“You’re Yn, I presume?” asked Kita. You nodded.

Osamu joined the conversation, “Suna’s told us a lot about ya. Can’t seem to shut up about his pretty coworker. It was cute at first, but it’s beginning to get annoying.”

“Shut up, ‘Samu!” shouted a red-faced, embarrassed Suna, reaching over to hit Osamu over the back of the head.

“Yeah, Suna, when are ya gonna ask her out?” teased Atsumu, eager to tease Suna with his brother. “If you don’t, I might.” He winked at you, glancing at Suna to make sure he saw.

“Don’t you dare! What girl in her right mind would go out with you anyway? Yn’s smarter than that.”

“Hey! Plenty of girls are interested in me, thank ya very much!”

“Well, then, lay off Yn and ask one of them.” Suna was scowling now, not at all amused at being teased instead of being the teaser. It seems like Suna had completely forgotten that you were still there, listening to the whole conversation.

Kita whispered into your ear, “This is probably as close to a confession as you’ll get from Suna, even if it’s not direct. Hope it’s not too personal, but how do you feel about him?”

You whispered back, “I wouldn’t be opposed to going out with him. In fact, I think I’d quite enjoy it.”

Kita chuckled, “Y’heard that, Suna?”

Suna looked over from berating the twins, “Heard what?”

“Nothin’. Come on, guys, or we’ll miss the movie.” Kita said, beginning to walk away with the twins following.

It wasn’t until they disappeared into the theater that Suna spoke to you, but he avoided eye contact all the while. “Hey, save me some embarrassment and forget what they said, okay?”

You frowned. “So, you don’t wanna go out to eat with me? Maybe next Saturday?”

His head snapped up, a smirk growing on his handsome face, “You asking me out?”

A smile mirroring his slowly appeared on your face and that was enough for him. “I always imagined how I’d ask you out. Never thought you'd be the one to ask me.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“Yeah, that’s a yes.”

——————

Bus Boy Ushi

being a waitress sucks

but getting to see ushijima wakatoshi’s muscles flex when he wipes down tables?

um, yes? hello? mans is fOINE and he doesn't even know it smh

it's been both a blessing and a curse

on one hand, you get to see him almost everyday

on the other, you've gotten in trouble with your boss more than once for getting distracted

little do you know but ushi has the same problem with you

You were taking an older couple’s order when you saw your coworker and classmate in your peripheral cleaning off a nearby table. You swear you didn’t mean to, but you stopped paying attention to the woman’s order to watch Ushijima do his job. It wasn’t until Ushijima was carrying the dishes back to the kitchen that you turned back to see the old woman giving you a knowing look. You were absolutely mortified and began apologizing profusely. She laughed and waved them off. “It’s okay, dear. That’s one good looking man.” You saw her husband give her a pointed look but she ignored him and continued, lowering her voice, “And between you and me, I saw him looking at you on his way to that table over there. I think he likes you, too.”

If your face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now. Not only were you caught practically drooling over your coworker, but this sweet old lady was teasing you about it.

You finished taking the table’s order and brought it to the kitchen. You were quickly directed to the next table that had yet to be attended to. A table full of rowdy boys. Great, this was exactly what you wanted to deal with today. You recognized a few of them as members of the basketball team. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. You weren’t even at the table yet and you could hear their conversation. Something about taking the spotlight from the volleyball team. As if that was ever gonna happen. Academics aside, the volleyball team was Shiratorizawa’s pride and joy.

You wasted no time when you got to the table. You wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. “Hi, I’m Yn, and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I start y’all off with any drinks or appetizers?” You took each of their orders, not missing the way one of them was eyeing you. Disgusting. Not that you had a leg to stand on. You basically did the same thing to Ushijima.

You walked briskly back to the kitchen, eager to get far away from that table. But alas, you had to serve them until they left. When you returned with their drinks, you could feel the creep’s eyes on your chest when you leaned across the table to place a drink down. God, they couldn’t leave fast enough. All you could do was grin and bear it.

“Do you know what you would like to order or do you need more time?”

“Well, that depends, are you on the menu?” 

You were taken aback, not expecting such a brazen attempt at flirting. You might have been too worried about losing your job to make a scene, but Ushijima, who had been bussing a table nearby, was not.

His deep baritone came from behind you, “Apologize. Now.”

You recalled the table’s conversation from earlier. So the fact that Ushijima was both ace and captain of the volleyball team was sure to make things worse.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ushiwaka.”

“Well, I’m talking to you. Apologize to her. She’s obviously uncomfortable because of you. Flirting won’t get you a discount or her number. So order your food and leave.”

“Are y’all dating or something?”

“Yes.”

You blanched. Not in a million years did you ever think you would hear Ushijima call you his girlfriend. The guy scoffed before getting out of the booth and storming out of the restaurant. His teammates followed after him, but they actually had the decency to pay for their drinks. A few of them left a sizable tip as a way of apologizing for the trouble.

After they left, Ushijima asked if you were okay. You were fine thanks to him. It seems the old lady was right about Ushijima liking you because he asked if you’d like to date him for real. You were absolutely ecstatic.

Your boss, however, was fed up with both you and Ushijima, but that was fine. You may have lost your job that day, but you gained a boyfriend. Your first date was him taking you out for ice cream because he blamed himself for you losing your job.

[remakethestars]

Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why. 

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia. 

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart. 

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school. 

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats. 

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions. 

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you. 

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.” 

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could. 

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow. 

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.” 

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break. 

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.” 

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up. 

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol. 

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia. 

“Brother?” 

“Tt. Obviously.” 

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba. 

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?” 

“How’d you know?” you asked. 

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

[halcyon-writings]

i checked this list and it said persona so im hoping this is still ok. Date night with the protagonists? (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and thank you >///

ー『anonymous: Can i get dating headcanons for the persona protags (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and super thank yous. I love these boys so much. ;A;』

note(s): I am going to combine these requests as they are similar enough I hope that is alright! no real warnings for this one either, I just think these dudes are neat. Also I know they all have like 5 different names, so I just went with the ones I am more familiar with. Maybe(????) spoilers for 3, 4, and 5, so if you haven’t finished or played them, be warned (although, idk if anyone would read it if they haven’t played the respective game but idk warning for spoilers just in case) also idk how i feel about these hcs rn, but i did my best dhdjdj

all my other links can be found in my navigation post!! If you like my writing and you’d like to support me, my tip jar is also linked there!

hcs under the cut so i’m not clogging anyone’s dash (originally these were gonna be a short set of hcs but i guess not dbdndn)

What our dear protagonist lacks in overall extrovertedness, he makes up for in action. Surprise surprise, dates can either range from hanging out in the dorms and cooking a nice meal together. Or maybe going to the mall and heading to the arcade. Or basically wandering around until your legs hurt and your purchases range from new outfits to weird antiques from the antique shop.

However he really does treasure these little trinkets, because the memory of your laughter when you were given a certain item will forever be ingrained in his mind. It’s a comfort in the end too.

Date nights are focused on you and you only. He definitely sets a date where he knows you both are free so that there’s less likely of a chance for being interrupted. He definitely wouldn’t want his time with you to be wasted. Although seeing his small pout when it does happen is very cute.

You also gotta be keen on if he sees something he likes and wants. While Minato won’t exactly say it, his gaze lingers a bit longer than usual. But he ultimately won’t get it, because he wants to focus on you and also save up for when the group goes to Tartarus. So if you surprise him with whatever he had wanted, he’s so happy.

While he is slightly more reserved in comparison to Yu and Akira, Minato speaks through action. Whenever you two are walking together, he always has your hand in his, or keeping close by in some way. He likes to cling to you when it’s just you two, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you two nap tother, legs tangled up together. Or the small jokes he says loud enough for only you to hear, but they’re still so funny. Sometimes you’re asked if he’s really a good boyfriend, and you have to laugh off the doubt, because they don’t see the sides of him that you do.

My god. Yu would absolutely be the best at arranging dates and hangouts. I take no criticism. Like you guys could literally just be walking all around Inaba, or just sitting by the river bed and it could be one of the greatest times you’ve both had together. A romantic at heart, Yu would also be a bit cheesy in arranging dates.

He shows affection through communcating it. Whether it’s a new outfit or something, he’ll say that you look incredible or if you’ve studied for a hard exam, he’ll make sure you know how amazing you are for passing. Idk just anything that has you smiling from sweet compliments and other words of affirmation. A big sap, honestly you try and joke about it but he just earnestly says “Who wouldn’t be for you?” And you have to sit down and hide your face in your hands for a solid 5 minutes.

You also gotta be cool with Nanako. But then again she’s a cute kid and a sweetheart so idk why you wouldn’t be. Although he does get a little flustered if it’s you two watching her while Dojima-san is working late at the station and the old ladies coo over how you three look like a mini family yourselves. Which is kind of a common occurrence. And I feel like Yu would know pretty well if he sees a future with someone he’s with, and with you he does shhh

Date nights in Inaba are really fun and a good way to wind down, sometimes it’s wandering Junes and finding whatever the newly advertised, as seen on tv appliance is. Or other parts of the shopping district, where he can really let go and just have fun for himself. When not worrying about school work or the cases the Investigation Team is working on.

some spoilers here; but after Izanami is defeated and the year ends. When Yu has to leave Inaba it doesn’t mean that he won’t put his best efforts to keep up the relationship. If possible, video calls or just the occasional text too. And when he visits, while he does miss his friends, he’s especially antsy to see you too. And when you’re both together again, he refuses to leave your side.

Now, Akira can be described as this suave, casanova type character. But he’s also a giant dork and you know it, he knows it, the Phantom Thieves all know it, hell even Sojiro knows it. It doesn’t mean his attempts at flirting doesn’t get you blushing. And when he sees the flustered expression, it only motivates him to keep going. But turn the tables on him, and he’s putty in your hands. (And he looks very cute).

Because of the way you met, aka, at Shujin, where his reputation was basically over and done with before it even began, he has a lot of doubt and trust issues, what if someone dared you to speak to the “criminal” or something? While he won’t show these doubts out loud to his friends, it’s still something he thinks back on a lot. But when you defend him vehemently one day, he knows he was right to trust you.

A part of dating Akira, is eventually finding out who he is. Maybe trips to Mementos cause him to be late to dates or not even show up at all. You end up stood up more often then not once things begin to get really serious. From small time school teachers to the literal Yakuza (and eventually a candidate for Prime Minister, and a god), you don’t know where he is. And that becomes really stressful because then the doubt™️ sets in.

To make this less angsty and more funny, imagine you know from figuring it out. He’s suspiciously watching the news on the PT, and no offense to Ryuji, he’s not the most quiet. So he’s so nervous trying to tell you when you’re just “yeah I know, sorry for not telling you, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know.” and he’s just the surprised pikachu face.

As for date nights, the city is your oyster. I’d say the world but mans still currently has a criminal record so probably not yet. But he’s gonna take you wherever you want. Whether it’s a themed cafe, or just the streets of Shinjuku, as you take in all the sights from the bright places, he’s willing to do whatever for you. That includes facing off kids at the arcade for a stuffed plush you saw and admitted it was cute. He is a man on a mission. And you cannot stop him. So you both end up back at Leblanc at the end of the night carrying your plushies and eating some curry that Sojiro left warming for you. That even includes the Big Bang Burger challenge he will do it for you , even though you probably do laugh at his pain after but you still coo and praise his efforts.

After he goes back home, record clean and world hopefully peaceful. Virtual dates become a thing, either just sitting and talking while having dinner or something is nice. He still loves to say those cheesy pickup lines that had you hiding your flustered expression as you walked through the streets of Shibuya on call. You only hung up on him once but he quickly called back and was very pouty about it. You were forgiven though with the promise of giving many kisses when he visits.

[morizoras-cave]

Persistent (Request)

Marvel cast x f!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst-ish, fluff

Request Description: Hellooo! Could you write a all the marvel cast men x teen! reader? Like they all go out to eat and hangout at a mall or something and when she goes in the women’s part of a store while they are all on the men’s side, some creepy dude keeps on hitting on her and like after she tries to politely decline his attempts and stuff rdj and the rest are like nuh uh this ain’t happening lol

Warnings: language, hints at smexual stuff, harassment, persistent asshole 

(A/N): this story includes anthony mackie, winston duke, sebastian stan, chris evans, robert downey jr and mark ruffalo. im sorry i didnt include alllll of the marvel dudes, but i just find it hard to cram them all into one fic :((( ALSO sorry if the ending is shitty hgssghsgsh

“You don’t have to bring me with you.”

“It’s too late, we’re bringing you.”

“But-” 

“Y/n, you are not spending your birthday alone!” 

You and Anthony were bickering like always. There was a short break in filming the next marvel movie, and while many people, including you, were planning on going home for the week, Sebastian, Anthony, Winston, Chris and Tom and arranged a ‘guys night out’, if you will. 

You were going to enjoy your birthday that day with your family, but a couple of days before your family had cancelled, because of exams and overloading work. They promised you’d celebrate some other day, but you were still bummed out.

Anyway, Anthony had somehow reluctantly made you admit that you were celebrating alone, and had decided to instead drag you with him and the guys to their ‘night out’. 

“I don’t wanna come and just be a bother to everyone,” you mumbled. Anthony sighed and looked at you. He then diverted his eyes back to the road. 

“You’re not bothering anyone, N/n.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to cancel your plans to the strip club or whatever you were gonna do!” You stressed. Anthony gasped like a TV mean girl.

“Did you really think we were gonna go to a strip club? Y/n, that’s private business, you don’t do that with your guys.” 

“Well, what then?” 

The mall, apparently. 

You and Anthony both stood with your necks craned to look at the proud and boasting sign, ‘mall of America’. He’d shut up after your question and just parked the car, leading you to stand exactly there, in front of that famous mall. 

“You’re gonna go shopping?” you looked at him. 

“Yeah, and what about it?” 

Before you could start another argument with Anthony, you heard a familiar ‘hey!’ and snapped your head in the direction of the caller. Winston, Sebastian, Chris, Robert and Mark were all gathered together, seemingly waiting for you two. 

“Hey, there you are! We were waiting for you,” Chris said with his usual big, dorky smile on his lips. Him and Anthony hugged and then he pulled back to look at you. 

“Y/n, you okay with spending your birthday with us?” 

“Whatever, man,” was all you could say, making the group burst into laughter. 

You would never admit it to Anthony, or any of the others for that matter, but it was actually a lot of fun. You went into many stores for no apparent reason. The guys bought and helped you make a Build-A-Bear, which you named Svenbjorn, and he had a little detective suit and a little bag. 

You ate at a Denny’s, where Mark unfortunately, but rather predictably, spilled maple syrup on himself. Then you looked around stores for fancy suits and clothes and gifts for their loved ones. Your mood was brightened, and the guys sure didn’t seem to be displeased that you were there. 

“Let’s go in here real quick,” Sebastian had said, and everyone walked with him into the clothing store. You hadn’t actually bought anything that day, so you decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look around a bit.

“I’m gonna go to the women’s section,” you said, pointing to the area at the other end of the store. 

“Sure,” Robert waved you off, as him and the others crowded around a blue suit. You rolled your eyes and bounded off to the women’s area. 

Your eyes found a pretty yellow shirt hanging on a rack near the back. You quickly made your way to it, standing and admiring it, checking the fabric and the price. 

“Hey, babygirl,” a cocky voice sounded beside you. You turned your head to see a boy around your age, an ugly smirk on his lips. His words almost made you vomit the Denny’s pancakes you’d just eaten, but you shook off the feeling. 

“Uh, hey,” you mumbled, turning back to the shirt. Now you fiddled with it nervously. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, huh?” his voice was strangely predatory, something about it just didn’t sit right with you. It made you feel alerted and uncomfortable. 

“Looking at shirts..”

“I bet you’d look good in this one,” he said. You didn’t have to look to know he’d found some sheer-ass, see through, titty exposer. You did however peep, and, yes.. You were right. 

“Look, I’m not interested,” you sighed. 

“That’s too bad, girlie, I could make you feel real good.”

You scrunched up your nose in disgust. Your fingers gave up their grasp on the shirt, deciding that it would be best to just get out of there. The sound of your boots hitting the shiny floor sounded, as you began padding away.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” you heard him walking behind you, the action of persistence making your heartbeat speed up. You were now panicking.

“Hey! Why are you following her?” you breathed out in relief. Winston was standing not too far away, Sebastian and Anthony behind him. He had lowered his voice to sound more threatening, which you normally would laugh at, but considering the situation, you were pretty relieved he did it. 

All the three men looked pretty damn angry. You didn’t know how much of the conversation they’d heard, but obviously enough. Hearing another set of boots, you snapped your head to see Chris, Mark and Robert jogging towards the scene. You made eye contact with Chris, who furrowed his brows in confusion. 

The boy was now looking at the six angry and buff men, swallowing fearfully. He was shaking and surely starting to sweat. You smirked. Asshole. You walked over to stand between Sebastian and Chris.

“Are you okay?” they both murmured, searching your eyes worriedly. The fact that they were so protective of you made you smile a bit. Although, the thought that you needed several men with you to the mall to protect you kind of sucked.

“I’m alright,” you said. Meanwhile, Winston, Anthony and Robert were approaching the kid with disapproving looks. 

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you to respect women? Huh?”

“What’s your issue, kid? You had such a big mouth just a moment ago?”

“Don’t ever talk to any woman like that ever again, you hear me?” 

They didn’t even touch him, just the anger and seriousness in their voices and on their faces was enough to get the message into the kids head. He nodded, breath shaking. Then, he dashed off between Winston and Anthony, running out of the store, like a dog with its tail between its hind legs. 

When the other three turned back to you, they were still angry. 

“I can’t believe him! I can’t believe that asshole!” Anthony muttered, disbelief ridden in his voice. Winston had grown softer, looking down at you in concern. 

“Are you okay, N/n? He didn’t touch you, did he?” You could tell he was actually worried. 

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s okay, guys, it really wasn’t that serious,” you explained, wanting them to calm down. You couldn’t be the reason why their ‘guys night’ was ruined.

“Not that serious? Y/n, he wasn’t backing off when you told him to!” Robert seemed even angrier that you were denying the severity of the issue. You just shrugged.

“This kind of stuff happens all the time, this time I just had you guys with me,” you explained. By the looks on their faces, that wasn’t the most reassuring answer. In fact, even Chris and Sebastian and Mark (the sweetest human being ever, theoretically incapable of feeling anger) were angry now, scoffing. 

“That’s not- That’s-” Chris put his hands on his hips like an angry mom. Sebastian squeezed your shoulder, making you look at him, to see his jaw clenched. 

“Y/n, if that ever happens to you, no matter how big or small, just call us, please,” Anthony said, eyes catching yours to express how serious he was. You nodded. “I mean that shit.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you.” 

There was a moment of silence where everyone just basked in their anger, before Mark spoke up. 

“Hey, how about we just continue as planned and go watch a movie at the cinema?” 

Reluctantly, everyone started walking to the cinema. You noticed how your walking formation had changed, almost caging you in, protecting you. Although you, Mark and Winston kept a pretty solid conversation, you couldn’t help but overhear the other’s talking about how angry they still were. Of course, they had every right to. 

The night turned out alright again, as they slowly shook off their anger. The movie was great, and it created something new to talk about other than the ‘disrespectful little shit from earlier’. 

When Anthony drove you both back to the hotel you were both staying at, he had another serious conversation with you. He talked about staying safe and keeping a backup weapon and such.

He wasn’t usually serious, so you listened carefully. You were thankful that they had been there that day. So were they. And from that day on they all were a little bit more protective with you - whether it was in interviews or just in daily life - they kept you close and was always slightly suspicious of anyone talking to you. 

It meant a lot to you, and you thanked them, both for their protection, for an awesome birthday, and for one bitchin’ build-a-bear :)

___________________________

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[gohan111111]

For @thesaiyanprincess

Vegeta (Dragon Ball Z)

SFW ABC Headcanons

By:neogohann

A=Affection(How affectionate are they with a s/o?)

As you can guess Vegeta isn’t really an affectionate person. 

But there are times where he is willing to put his pride aside and just hold you to tell you how much he appreciates you.

Like when he thinks you’re asleep, or he’s had a bad day, or you come home crying.

He’ll pull you into his chest and just hold you. He won’t say anything, but just that alone shows how much he cares.

B=Beauty(What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Vegeta loves how you care for Trunks. 

This man will never amidst it but he appreciates you very much.

He loves his strength. 

This man is so prideful of his muscles that if he loses any fight he will train for hours or until he passes out from exhaustion, which at that point you’ll have to find a way to get him inside.

C=Cuddle(Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Vegeta isn’t a cuddly person but there are times when he will.

Like before the Cell games or after the tournament of power. 

All he does is pull you into his chest.

D=Dream(What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

I know this sounds cheesy but just here me out, Vegeta dreams of being King and ruling the Sayians with you by his side, his Queen. 

But he knows that can never happen because almost all of the Sayian race is dead. 

So, he is content with what he has at the moment.

E=Effort(How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

Vegeta doesn’t put much effort in front of others. But he sure does shoe it in the bedroom. Not gonna go into detail cause this is SFW.

But there was one time he came home from training with a bouquet of wildflowers He walked in all sweaty and handed you the flowers, roots still attached, not saying a word. He then walked away. You still have those flowers in a pot of soil and they are thriving, even if you don’t have a green thumb.

F=First kiss(When do you have your first kiss? Where and how does it happen?)

It happened during a fight.

You two were fighting over how he was gone all the time. You didn’t mind that he fought and trained but you wanted to have time with him too.

You went on a rant and he stopped yelling, which you didn’t notice. He suddenly grabbed you by the waist and crashed his lips into yours. You were shocked by kissed back moments later. 

He pulled away, telling you, “Shut up. The only reason I’m not here all the time is because I’m not good enough for you and I’ll never be even close until I’m stronger than that blubbering idiot!”

Let’s just say you spent all night showing him what you really thought about him.

G=Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally Vegeta isn’t gentle but he will compliment you in his own way. He’ll compliment you by saying you’re not annoying or he might say a random woman he sees in public looks like a dead cat.

Physically, he knows he’s stronger than you but he also knows that he could hurt you. So, Vegeta is rough but just enough so he doesn’t hurt you too much.

H=Hugs(Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Vegeta isn’t a huggy person but I will stand by the idea that a sleepy Vegeta is a cuddly Vegeta.

I imagine he would come in the kitchen in the morning while you're making your morning coffee or tea.

Wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into your neck.

I=Intimacy(How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Vegeta has a problem with human intimacy but he gets the job done.

The most he does though is for you to come home from work and there be a full meal on the table because this man can cook unlike Goku.

J=Jealous(Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Vegeta is a very jealous man. 

He doesn’t want you to look at anyone else.

He once broke a TV because you were drooling over this movie star on TV.

He almost fought a guy in the mall for just glancing in your direction.

K=Kisses(Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

Vegeta is a good kisser by all means. He’s a rough kisser as well.

He doesn’t kiss you out of nowhere though and he says he hates when you do it to him but he’s a liar. This man loves it. He gets all red when it happens.

Kids(Do they want kids? If so, how many and how?)

Well, Vegeta already has Trunks but he’s open to the idea of more.

Don’t get him wrong he loves Trunks to death. He might not show it but he does. 

Trunks will train with him all the time but he isn’t as invested as Vegeta is. Vegeta wants a kid that loves to fight just as much as he does. 

L=Love you(When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Vegeta only says I love you after something really bad happens and he thought he might’ve lost you and trunks and when he thinks they might now win, which barley ever happens.

M=Mornings(How are mornings spent with them?)

Vegeta normally gets up early in the morning to get up and train.

But there are days, though not many at all, where he’ll sleep in and let you cuddle up to him or he’ll initiate early morning sex. 

N=Nights Out(What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Vegeta doesn’t go on dates. He finds them useless. 

The most he does is make you dinner and then y’all have sex. 

You tried to take him on a date once. He got pissed at the waiter and you two got banned from the restaurant. 

He does like taking you on picnics in the woods for some reason.

O=Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take Vegeta a very long time to open up to you. 

To him being open means being weak and he hates being weak. 

But once he’s comfortable, even though it might take him years, he’ll open up and tell you bits and pieces of his past.

P=PDA(Do they like it? What do they do?)

Vegeta will not do PDA.

The most he does is have an arm around your waist to show that you’re his.

Q=Questions(How often do they ask questions? What questions do they have?)

Vegeta only has two types of questions. 

Mad questions that only happen during arguments, which usually sound like, “Why would you do that?!” or “What do you think I’d do if you would’ve died?!”

He also has confused questions which he asks when he doesn’t understand the point of something that humans do.

R=Respect(Do they respect your boundaries? How respectful are they to your friends, your family, and you?)

When you first got with Vegeta he didn’t understand the concept of boundaries. 

But as time went on he began to understand and respect everyone's boundaries in his own way.

He might go too far every once in a while but he tries.

S=Sleep(How do they sleep with their s/o? Might include a gif.)

At the beginning of the night Vegeta will lay right beside you on the other side of the bed but once he thinks you're asleep he grabs you and holds you until he wakes up in the morning.

But if you wake up before him or in the middle of the night then you better stay there or it won’t happen again that night.

T=Trust(How much do they trust their s/o?

If Vegeta is willing to have an actual relationship with you and it not be just sex, he has to trust you with his life.

Like he knows he is stronger than you but he has to know that you would do anything for him, even if he doesn’t like it.

U=Unique(What makes them unique as an s/o?)

What is most unique about Vegeta is that he might treat you like shit but he loves you and he shows you in his own way. He will protect you and Trunks with his life.

V=Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vegeta isn’t necessarily concerned with his looks but he does value his strength.

In his eyes if he isn’t strong enough to protect his family he isn’t worth the love he receives from them. He doesn’t deserve to be called the prince of all Sayian.

W=Wedding(When, how, where do they propose?) 

Vegeta didn’t propose. I believe in Sayian culture there isn’t a wedding type thing. They find their mate and they stay with them for life. 

So, you essentially have to bring it up. 

He doesn’t understand why you would want to do that, you’re already his mate, why would a piece of paper matter?

You have to do a lot of begging and bargaining but he eventually agrees.

It isn’t a big flashy wedding like Bulma and Chi-chi wanted to plan. It was small with all your close family and friends. 

Trunks was the ring bearer. Imagine tiny Trunks in little tux, with his hair all done nice.

Vegeta gets really annoyed but he puts aside his pride for you and pushes through the day to make you happy. 

X=Xtra(You get a random, extra headcanon)

This man spends hours on his hair. I know it naturally stands by itself but he has a strict hair routine he follows every single week.

Y=Yawn(What do they do when they're bored?)

This man is never bored. 

If he doesn’t have something to do he’ll train.

Z=Zzz(What is a sleeping habit of theirs?)

This man snores so loud. 

You tried to get him to use those nose strip things that are supposed to help people stop snoring but he is so stubborn and dead set on saying that he doesn’t snore.