#I’m just sad and anxious and I feel like these things aren’t getting any better

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[blommp717]

A message from yourself

Well, your the reason this message is reaching you so congrats on this manifestation, now let’s begin.

But before that, here’s my channel where I’m going to be explaining nondualism in video format yaaay ☺️🤪

Everything except conciseness is just an illusion. The only thing that does not change regardless of pressure, judgment, fear, opinion, circumstances, people, events, emotions, etc. is awareness/consciousness/pure being. Your eyes are scanning the screen but what comes before/beyond that? Like what’s looking through the eyes? Yes, that’s you.

Anything put infront of it/you instantly become real. How?

Like I said, everything is an illusion, an illusion of you/by you, if the only thing that is constant is awareness, it’s the only true thing that’s real. Without awareness there is no world to perceive, there’s nothing to experience, there’s absolute absence. Therefore everything is only possible as an experience because of awareness, it feels so real because that’s also something me as consciousness chose to experience.

The good news? You can feel doubtful, sad, anxious, upset, cry, think the most awful “opposing” thoughts in the world and it does nothing to my manifestation because that’s not me. I am conciseness, all I can do is be aware of those things being put infront of me, but what I also understand is that none of those things on their own matter. I decide what they mean because I created it lol. Anything except being will never have any power over me because I made it.

The process? the only thing required in order to experience something different, is think about it, seriously, there is absolutely no secret, lengthy process, month long journey, manifestation in nature is instant. How long does it take you to be aware of something? Instant moment right? I mean I can say. APPLE. You’ve just became aware of an Apple, congratulations! you now have seen/experienced an Apple. Now, anything after being aware of the apple like “where is it, when is it manifesting,” etc. is completely null and void. You in real time and in actuality just manifested whatever you put infront of that awareness.

If your still doubting just like I used to, listen up, you’re not able to mess it up. You = Awareness, Awareness = Everything. Everything includes imagination, includes “3D”, includes EVERYTHING. You the infinite source of creation are the reason it’s experiencing itself, the moment you become aware of something, as that source, you experience it. The key in making it FEEL better is to understand that THERE CANNOT BE SEPARATION IF ITS ALL YOU. A wave can’t be separate from the ocean even if it takes a different form!!! Come to this conclusion, as many times as you need to and reassure yourself, your not choosing to go down some lengthy progress bar, you are living your life. You effortlessly manifested everything before finding out about nondualism/loa/etc. and now that you know how to get everything you want you think it’s hard?? Girl how the hell does that work.

When you become aware of something and a reaction like a physical feeling in your body or emotion arises or thoughts appear, just LET THEM COMEEE, and as you allow them you remind yourself that it’s okay, it means nothing, emotions aren’t source, thoughts aren’t source, physical reactions are NOT SOURCE, anytime you feel off about what you’ve became aware of you need to remember, MANIFESTING IS INSTANT, BECOME AWARE AND EVERYTHING ELSE CAN BE DISREGARDED. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS AND MOVE ON!!! You know how long it took before I realized I don’t need to attend to every off feeling and thought with an array of relaxing techniques or affirmations to pile on top of it. Even with Nondualism!! K I think that’s enough for this post ima do more later. Hehe

.

[iguessitsjustme]

So last week I had some thoughts on Jeng and how he might have responded to Pat asking if he liked men so heartbreakingly because he can and does pass as a straight man. This week, episode 10, while I loved and adored the episode, Jeng felt a little off to me. That’s not to say that I think it was out of character for him, but it felt like Jeng wasn’t entirely himself. He let himself get lost in Pat and their relationship and I spent the better part of the night and this morning trying to figure out why. A lot of other people have shared their thoughts on Jeng this episode, but I’m going to approach it as an addition to my thoughts from last week.

I will start off with the one thing I’m sad we didn’t get and I think this episode didn’t do well and that is Jeng’s reaction to Pat’s confession. From the 9 episodes we had previously, Jeng should have been holding his breath (either literally or figuratively), he should have been staring at Pat with anxious longing even as Pat broke down and cried in his arms. We should have seen Jeng’s face right after Pat admitted that he liked him back. At this point, Jeng has had one major breakdown and is just kind of running on fumes from Pat’s initial rejection. Jeng is operating under the belief that Pat sees them as coworkers. Jeng telling Pat “It makes sense to me” did not get a response, so Jeng has no reason to believe that Pat is feeling any differently that how he felt during the rejection. So we should have seen Jeng realize that it’s reciprocated. Jeng has had blinders on when it came to Pat and Pat’s confessions should have visibly ripped them away.

That said, everything after the confession, including Jeng’s undeniably reckless behavior in regards to their relationship, makes sense. First of all, those two not only love each other, but are intensely sexually attracted to each other. It makes sense that they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Plus that’s just a thing that happens during the honeymoon phase in a lot of relationships. It might seem weird because we don’t get that a lot in BL, but it happens. They are both consenting adults and they both want each other. Desperately. Now imagine being Jeng, who has been pining for god knows how long after Pat. Jeng, who has held himself back for so many reasons, finally letting himself cross those boundaries he worked so hard to maintain. At this point, the boundaries have been crossed so what’s the point of restraining any further? (I mean there’s a million reasons why but Jeng can only think that he is finally, finally with Pat and damn the consequences.)

I think Jeng knows though. He knows that at some point, the other shoe is going to drop and he isn’t ready for it. When the cracks start to show, he starts to hold on even tighter to the little bit of happiness he finally managed to carve out for himself. A place where he’s allowed to be completely and totally himself. A place where he is able to be an out gay man and the people around him understand that. The people around him and Pat are all Pat’s friends and family, and because of that Jeng is perceived as attracted to men. He’s not being seen as the straight boss. The friend who’s just a really good ally. He is Jeng. He is attracted to Pat. And he doesn’t have to explain that to anyone. But when gossip at work starts to spread, Jeng does what he shouldn’t do and he ignores it. If he acknowledges it then the new relationship bubble he’s been in with Pat that offers security, safety, and happiness will burst. Then Pat does the unthinkable and tries to talk about the very real and pressing issues that are affecting him (this was the incredibly mature thing to do and I honestly think that Pat is the most mature and communicative character in the show when it comes to his relationships but that’s another post and this is, yet again, about Jeng). Jeng does his best to keep Pat from popping that bubble. Those issues aren’t real and can’t affect them if he doesn’t think of them. What Jeng doesn’t know is the extent of the bullying Pat is facing at work as a result of it. People at work are judging Pat for their relationship but saying nothing about Jeng, so of course it hasn’t come back to Jeng just how bad it is. Pat isn’t going to mention the awful things being said especially after Jeng shut down the conversation that Pat needed to have.

So Pat leaves. I don’t think Jeng expected that outcome because Pat is so communicative. But he didn’t leave Pat much of a choice. And here Jeng is, his greatest fear happening. The other shoe dropped and now he has to face the world that he wasn’t ready to face. He has to face the office that bullied Pat into resigning. He has to face his father who is expecting him to take over the company and live the life laid out for him. Jeng lost himself in his bubble because he knew what would happen when it was gone. He knew when the bubble burst, he might be forced back into letting the world think he’s straight. Jeng let himself enjoy his relationship and acted like a teenager in love because he probably hasn’t had a relationship where he could do that before. Jeng has had rigid expectations placed on him for his whole life and it was different when he was with Pat.

So now that Pat’s gone, those expectations come rushing back and now if he wants Pat back, he is going to need to fight for it. And he is going to need to fight for it as Jeng, the rigid boss. Jeng, the good son. Jeng that his father can use and let people see him as straight. But Jeng is out of that closet now. The bubble has burst and Jeng doesn’t want to go back. He wants his young love. He wants Pat. So he needs to find a balance between the Jeng that was pining and the Jeng that was in a relationship with Pat. Without that balance, he can never get Pat back. He lost Pat by doing the same thing Put did. He wasn’t listening. He had a good reason not to listen (he was terrified of what facing those obstacles meant and he was finally allowing himself to be selfish and be with Pat) but having a good reason doesn’t stop the outcome and doesn’t mean that Pat’s needs weren’t ignored. Episode 11 is going to be painful but Pat and especially Jeng need to get through it in order to find the balance in their relationship.

This kind of got away from me by tldr is I think Jeng makes sense. I don’t agree with how he handled a lot of things this episode but it makes sense to me. I think we’ll get the more adult, mature Jeng back going forward because he allowed himself that selfishness and lost Pat because of it and one thing this show has been excellent at is letting the characters learn from their mistakes and not repeat them.

[stargazer-sims]

The More Things Change...

... the more they stay the same.

Victor and Yuri have grown a lot since their early days together, but no matter how much time passes, some things remain as consistent as ever.

Yuri matured significantly and managed to conquer his paralyzing self-doubt. He runs his own successful communications firm now and is well respected in the business community. But, he still dissolves into a sad little puddle and demands all the attention when he's not feeling well.

As for Victor, he's still working at the hospital and he continues feeling fulfilled by his profession. He likes caring for all his patients and makes their comfort his priority, but the patient who'll always be first on his list of priorities is the clingy and still impossibly cute one he has at home.

Yuri: I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off. I know you wanted to go biking with Davey and Lindsey, but now you’re stuck with me instead.

Victor: I’d rather be stuck with you than with anybody else.

Yuri: Not when I’m ill.

Victor: Any time, no matter what. You know that.

Yuri: I feel bad that you’re missing your adventure because of me.

Victor: It’s okay. The mountain bike trails aren’t about to disappear, and the weather will probably be warm enough for a few more weeks. I’ll have other chances to go.

Yuri: I wish I wasn’t so anxious about being alone. Otherwise, you could’ve gone anyway.

Victor: Honestly, I’m anxious about you being alone when you’re sick, too. Even if you didn’t mind, I don’t think I could’ve just left you.

Yuri: I need you.

Victor: I know.

Yuri: You make it better. I know that probably sounds like a silly thing to say since you can't actually make it hurt less, but you just... make it better. I don't know how to explain it.

Victor: It’s all right. You don’t have to explain anything.

Yuri: Stay close to me. Please.

Victor: I'm here.

Yuri: I was doing so well for so long, but I suppose this was inevitable. They don't call it a chronic illness for no reason, do they?

Victor: I'll take care of you. Don't worry.

Yuri: I know you will, but that doesn't stop me from wishing this wasn't happening.

Victor: Do you think you’d be more comfortable in bed? I can go upstairs with you and we can cuddle for a while if you want. Maybe I could give you a belly rub.

Yuri: I’d really like a belly rub, but I’m not certain I can move. Not until the painkillers start to work.

Victor: That bad?

Yuri: Yes. It's that awful cramping pain, like someone's twisting my insides.

Victor: Do you feel nauseous too?

Yuri: Mm-hmm. I've been feeling uncomfortable for the past few days, but it's gotten quite a lot worse since this morning.

Victor: You didn’t say anything.

Yuri: The pain was manageable, and I've been busy. But I'm worried this might be the start of a new flare-up, and I don't have time for my body to betray me like that right now. I've got too much work to do.

Victor: I don't think your body understands your work schedule, love.

Yuri: *grumbling* Stupid body.

Victor: *laughing* Would it be inappropriate for me to say how ridiculously adorable you are?

Yuri: Probably, but I won't complain.

Victor: Let me know when you feel like you can move. I'll help you upstairs, and I'll take your temperature.

Yuri: Do I feel warm?

Victor: A little.

Yuri: Oh... brilliant. This had better not be another infection, or I'll—

Victor: What?

Yuri: I'll cry. I'll quite literally cry.

Victor: It might not be as bad as you think.

Yuri: What if it is?

Victor: If you have a fever or if you're still in a lot of pain tomorrow, I'll take you to the urgent care clinic. In the meantime, try to rest, okay?

Yuri: Maybe we should go now. I mean, not this minute, but when Caroline gets back from shopping with your mother.

Victor: Do you want me to text Mom and let her know what's up? I'm sure Caroline can have dinner with her and Julian, and hang out there for the evening.

Yuri: No, it's fine. I can wait until she gets back at least, and I think she's old enough to stay by herself while we're gone.

Victor: I don't like the idea of her staying alone, and I'm not sure I can handle being worried about both of you.

Yuri: If anything happens, your parents are across the street.

Victor: You're not concerned at all?

Yuri: Of course, but she's seventeen years old. She needs to be independent at some point.

Victor: I know, but maybe not at this specific point. Maybe we can let her stay on her own for a few hours when you're feeling better, when we can both be available if she needs anything.

Yuri: You know you're being overprotective, don't you?

Victor: You say that like it's bad.

Yuri: It's not necessarily bad. You can overprotect me all you want, but Caroline has a much different temperament than me, and she might not always appreciate being protected as much as I do. I think you need to let go, just a little.

Victor: I don't know. I don't like it.

Yuri: What do you want to do, then?

Victor: I still think she should stay with Mom and Julian.

Yuri: Okay.

-----

Caroline: I'm back from shopping! I can't wait to show you the cute... Oh! Papa, what's wrong?

Yuri: It's all right, Caroline.

Caroline: How is it all right? Are you sick? You were fine when I left. Was it something you ate, or...?

Victor: Papa hasn't been feeling good for the past few days. It seems it finally caught up with him.

Caroline: You're going to take him to the doctor, right?

Victor: We were just talking about that, as a matter of fact. We decided we're going to urgent care.

Caroline: Urgent care? But that's like, for when it's really serious. Papa, you haven't needed to go there in ages. Not since just after we got back from Sulani last time. That's like, almost two years. This isn't going to be like the times you've had to be in the hospital for weeks, is it? 'Cause those are terrifying.

Yuri: That's what I'm hoping to avoid.

Caroline: Well, if you're going to the urgent care clinic, I'm coming with you. I'll hold your hand while we're waiting, and I'll do whatever you need me to.

Yuri: Well, I guess that's your dilemma sorted, Victor.

Caroline: What dilemma?

Yuri: He didn't want you to stay here by yourself.

Caroline: What are you even talking about? There's no way I'd stay here by myself in this situation. LIke, I'm already freaking out, so can you imagine how much worse it'd be if I was here worrying about you all alone?

Yuri: I thought you might like to have the house to yourself.

Caroline: Maybe if it was just a normal day and I had a few hours to myself to do something fun, but not right now. Maybe you can let me have the house to myself some other time. You know, like when you're feeling better and I'm not losing my mind over all the worst-case scenarios and stuff.

Victor: There's not going to be a worst-case scenario.

Caroline: I'm coming with you so I can hear the doctor say that.

Victor: Because I'm totally not a fully-qualified registered nurse.

Caroline: Victor, that's not what I mean! You totally are, but you know there's a hierarchy or whatever. Husband first, then nurse. And you can't say there isn't, because I've seen you acting even more panicked than me when Yuri's sick, and I know for sure you'd never be like that with your patients.

Victor: I do not panic. I'm one hundred percent calm. Trust me, I'm a professional.

Yuri: I don't think you're convincing her, love.

Caroline: You're not. Now, stop pretending to be a tough guy, 'cause we all know the truth. And don't tell me I'm not allowed to come with you because this is one time I'm not gonna do as I'm told.

Yuri: Oh? Just this one time?

Caroline: Ugh! You guys are so infuriating! How can I even love you so much when you're so annoying?

Victor: We're not going to tell you not to come. I'd like it if you did.

Yuri: I would too. I certainly wouldn't turn down the offer of you holding my hand while we're waiting.

Caroline: I know that's not much. It's not going to fix anything, but I also know you really don't like going to the doctor, so hopefully it'll make the whole thing a bit easier.

Yuri: Don't say it's not much. You might be surprised how much it truly can fix when you know you're with somebody who loves you.

[a-very-zilly-gooze]

hey gang, it’s way too early AM and i have not been able to sleep all night so let me just explain my senior quote to you all bc i’m really happy with it. the quote is…

“Some things just aren’t meant to make sense, some things aren’t meant to be represented.” -Bears in Trees

why? well, for several reasons.

1. i think it’s neat. get off my back.

2. it’s from one of my favorite songs of all time, I’m Doing Push Ups by @bearsintreesofficial. and as many of you know, i kinda really really really like BiT.

3. i was majorly stressing over choosing a senior quote because i’m a super anxious person, and when i told my friend that I was considering using this one, she said something like “if you end up hating the quote later then it’ll be ironic because some things just aren’t meant to make sense” and that is some god-level reasoning there.

4. Nick (BiT lyricist, guitarist, cryptid?) once said that this lyric was about him trying to make sense of his school experience. To quote Nick himself, “i moved away to go to uni… and had a weird and gross and sad first year. i kept trying to write a song about it… until i eventually realised; some things aren’t meant to make sense. some things aren’t meant to be represented. some events don’t make you a better/worse person and there’s no point trying to think about it or ascribe any sort of ~main character energy~ to them. some things just happen and it sucks.” and i think that that really describes my high school experience. i try to reason out why ~things~ happened to me. i try to place some sort of value on the pain because it fuels the future or some shit. i try to use it to interpret myself or my surroundings. but in the end, some things just happen and it sucks.

5. one of the reasons i was stressing so hard about my senior quote was because i thought it needed to encompass all of me or all of my high school experience. so i really wanted something to show all of me, every crevice of my being, and how i felt about moving on and moving away. i considered the “live forever or die in the attempt” quote from Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. i considered “If you’ve gotta go, then go with style!” from Crowley in Good Omens. i was planning on doing “Ready to head into the unknown?” “Nope. Let’s do it” from Dipper and Mabel in Gravity Falls’s last dialogue sequence. but none of these felt like they encompassed all of me. and so i was freaking out, trying to find something that was me and my feelings. after all, it’s not every day that someone moves ~765 miles away and across the country for college. but i finally realized that i don’t actually know how i feel about moving away. i have so many emotions about it, and they all coexist and wreak havoc within me. my feelings about moving don’t really make sense to me, and this cannot be represented in a single quote. so there’s no way that i can just magic my feelings onto a yearbook (if only i were a wizard :/).

so takeaways: ummm go listen to hot chocolate by bears in trees streaming everywhere AND ITS OKAY TO HAVE CONFUSION!!! THAT IS NORMAL AND HUMAN!!!

[mirkwoodmunson]

mid-west monster #1

werewolf!eddie munson x reader

you’ve been with eddie munson for a few months now, and while you knew the boy harbored some secrets — you weren’t aware just how hairy things were about to get

tw: cursing, body horror(? i think?)

a/n: for writeober i’ll be attempting to do (hopefully) daily drabbles, each one a progression of this fic and based around a generated prompt! feel free to send any in as well if you’d like to inspire future installments! happy halloween! LMAO anyway.... i abandoned this wip in early oct. when i realized i should maybe focus on my big move instead of writing, kept getting sad looking at it sitting in my drafts so i decided to slap on a quick sort-of-ending and just post it cause... i love werewolf!eddie so fucking much y'all ;; he'd be the scruffiest stankiest doggo bf and i'm HERE FOR IT. not sure if this'll be continued as past me suggested but if it gets some traction i'd look into progressing the story! hope you enjoy!

Your knuckles are a ghostly white, latched to the steering wheel where your thumb rubs hard into the frayed edge of the wheel cover, anxious and tense. Eddie had been radio silent for the third day now, Hellfire had gathered in the hopes that maybe he’d make some dramatic entrance after working on the materials for this session — but no Dungeon Master had shown his mischievous grin. You’d called and called, stopped by but Wayne had solemnly sent you off each time, assuring you his boy was fine — just going through a rough illness. Maybe it was selfish to think but it made you angry, if he was sick he could still pick up a phone, right? It was the honeymoon stage yet, you’d only started dating a few months back and you could admit you had a tendency to cling to him, but to be fair he seemed to be clinging to you, too. Till now, at least. Had something changed so suddenly?

You let out a heavy breath you just now realize you’d been holding and scold yourself. ‘Your thoughts aren’t always true. Wayne said he was sick so he’s sick. I can at least bring him a treat.’ Looking over at the tote bag of tupperware’d food you encourage yourself to smile and hold it as you pull into the Munson’s drive.

Wayne wasn’t home, but Eddie’s van was here, and so you collect your things and exit your car, hopping up the steps and rapping the door.

No answer.

“Eddie?”

A neighbor’s dog starts barking a few doors down. You could swear you hear something from inside, rustling and a door slamming shut.

“Eds? You in there? It’s me! I brought you some stuff.”

Nothing.

“W-Wayne said you were super sick, so…” you trail off softly, lowering your arms and heaving a sigh.

“Eddie? I know you’re home I— … I’m worried about you, I just—“ you groan softly and just set everything down on the steps, worried the more you call to him the more annoyed he’s getting.

“I’ll just… I’m setting your stuff down out here for you, okay? Don’t forget about it.” A few more moments leaned against the door, waiting for anything, but nothing comes and you can’t help a slight pang, heading back down the steps.

“…Feel better, Eds.” Glancing back you cant even look inside, the curtains all shut tight. ‘He must really be sick.’

You head home but for the rest of the night your thoughts and worries start to take over a little, unable to sit still as you pace your room and question every last interaction you’d had with him, wonder about every possible illness you knew the name of. If he’d just call, pick up when you rang, just say one word to let you know you didn’t need to worry so much.

As you’re in the middle of that thought the phone does indeed ring, and you nearly trip over yourself to get to it, ripping the receiver from the cradle and holding it tight against your ear.

“Hello??”

“…”

“… Hello? Someone there?”

“Y/N?” His voice is low, weak, obscured slightly but it’s Eddie. Oh, your heart nearly beats from your chest.

“Eddie?? Babe what the f— I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”

“… … I- … I’m- I’m fine, promise. I’m fine.” He sounds strained.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything? I-I left you some stuff—“

“Sweetheart I— I can’t… Can’t really talk much, now… Just… Wanted to tell you, I’m okay…” There’s some rustling as though he’s covering the receiver on his end; you swear you hear him whimper.

“Eds?? Eddie please I-“ *click*

You hang onto the phone long enough for the signal to start bleeping at you as if in irritation that you’re still on the line, reminding you to set it back down in its cradle.

The clock tells you it’s close to midnight. Your brain tells you something’s very wrong.

Fifteen minutes later you’re rocking to a sudden halt in your car, once again sat in Eddie’s driveway. Same as before, Wayne isn’t home yet, and Eddie’s van is parked just beside you. The tote bag you’d left still sat on the steps.

You step out, striding up to his door with purpose and this time just trying the knob — locked. Glancing down the length of the trailer, the curtains still seemed to be drawn and there’s no discernible light peeking through, save for Eddie’s bedroom, a soft orange glow from a covered lamp indicating some presence.

Hoping to high heaven that neither Munson would hold trespassing against you, you bend down and lift the mat as you’d seen Eddie do a few times — the hidden spare key glinting at you in the moonlight. Using it on the lock, you turn the knob again and suck in a deep breath as you push the door open into an eerily silent, pitch-black living room.

“…Eddie?” Your voice is soft and hitched, trembling a little, too quiet to get anyone’s attention. Why were you kind of freaking out right now? There’s a rustle down the hall, a gruff, muffled noise and you gasp, jumping in your step. Looking down the hallway, it’s that same lightless black, until your eyes reach Eddie’s bedroom door — that orange light bleeding through the space between the door and the floor.

“E-Eddie?” You find yourself taking slow steps towards his room, eyes locked onto that strip of light. When a shadow runs across it you feel a cold sweat break over you. “Eds, seriously, seriously I’m kind of freaked out right n—“

There’s no time to react as the door slams open and crashes into the wall, a large, shivering figure in the doorway wearing Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, but it’s ripped and stained. You can’t make it out exactly, but the light from behind it illuminates its shape — and it’s much bigger than Eddie. Rugged; shoulders heaving. But its breathing is… unnatural. Almost like there’s a growl laced in it. You stumble backwards and to the floor from the initial shock of the door flying open, hastily lifting yourself onto your elbows, and when you behold this figure you gasp a sharp, shuddering breath, trying to croak out a scream but it catches and you find you can only stutter and whimper, struggling to scurry backwards but your movements are shaky and your limbs feel frozen.

It heaves a growl, snarls but it’s eerily soft, and takes a heavy step forward, vibrating through you. Your mind screams at you to move but you’re still just scrambling, arms heavy, trying to inch yourself away as you emit low whimpers, eyes wide and unable to leave the beast before you. Its eyes glow an unnatural yellow and it’s how you know it’s staring right back into yours. You can make it out a little better now, but your mind struggles to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at.

The creature is at least seven feet tall, almost entirely covered in dark, wavy fur. Its limbs don’t fit, however, they’re too human as its fingers reach up to pull at a mane of wild, shaggy hair, and that’s when you really notice the ears. They’re tall, pointed, set back like a dog ready to lunge. Its muzzle just the same, canine and lined with sharp teeth as it snarls. Eddie’s Hellfire tee… why was it wearing that??

“E-E— Ed—die…“ The tears fall freely and you cry. ‘So this is how I’m gonna die,’ you think. ‘This monster must have eaten Eddie and now it’s gonna eat me too.’

At the sound of your voice, however, something changes quickly. The beast spasms as if struck, crouching and curling into itself as it whines. As you watch in horror, you witness the final stage of this creature's transformation. The same dark fur breaks out over rippling arm and leg muscles, as the creature whines again and groans; you gasp, watching fingers lengthen and sharpen into claws. Arms and legs swell with muscle beneath the sheath of fur, and a howl of pain twins with a sob that wracks you. Terror and fear and also... sympathy. How do you know this creature?? Why are you suddenly so sad that it's hurting.

The beast's head snaps up, yellow eyes aglow, and it... calms. It sighs, almost, relieved the worst of it is over and now its attention is locked onto you. But the menace is gone -- if anything, this creature seems worried. Upset. Sad that it's frightened you.

You're still trembling, however, still weeping silently on the floor as you just lock eyes with this hulking being in front of you. The Hellfire tee... You keep scanning, gaze wandering over the wavy fur, and something dangling from this beast's neck makes your heart drop. The shirt should have given it away, but how could you think straight when a literal werewolf was snarling and staring you down. But now, Eddie's pick hanging from it's thick, furry neck...

You take in a shuddering breath, shaking your head in disbelief. The wolf begins to whine, lowering its head, ears lowered and pulled back again but now like a dog ashamed of what it's done. You cant help a bark of a laugh, the tears continuing to spill.

"EDDIE??! WHAT THE HELL!!"

Your werewolf boyfriend barks. You swear you see his tail wag.

[sarahrogersevans]

Hey love I’ve got a small idea,

Could you do a pair of of chris x niece reader where she’s drained and overwhelmed from school and exams and she’s shut herself out from everyone so Chris tries to figure out why and they have a little heart to heart after she runs to his house crying because she’s having a panic attack but she can feel a bad one coming and just wants her uncles comfort ❤️❤️

Heart To Heart- Uncle! Chris Evans xreader fan fic request

Summary: Reader is very overwhelmed by school homework and by life in between and has a panic attack and Chris has a heart to heart with reader and helps her through it

Warnings: mentions of feeling drained and overwhelmed, mentions of a panic attack, soft Chris, fluff, angst, let me know if I miss anything

(Y/N’s POV)

I’ve had so many tests and homework assignments kicking my butt and home life has been stressful. I’m at school and a tutor is helping me with a few of the assignments I was struggling with. The tutor checked on me and said “hey Y/N how’s that math problem doing?” I was starting to feel anxious and I felt cross eyed doing extra assignments. I got up and said “I’m sorry I can’t do this..” I walked out of the building and walked over to my uncle Chris’s house and rang the doorbell and felt a panic attack around the corner, Chris opened the door and saw the state I was in and said “hey Y/N hey come here doll.” He walked me inside and closed the door and pulled me into a hug and I started breathing heavy and Chris shushed me while rubbing my back and said “hey Y/N deep breaths hun focus on mine ok? Can you try that for me?” I nodded and tried to follow along with his heart beat and breathing.

After a few minutes I felt a bit more relaxed and Chris moved some strands of hair away from my eyes and softly said “there she is hi darling, are you feeling any better?” I nodded saying “yea I guess a little bit.. I’m so overwhelmed by homework and things at home aren’t going well I just.. I’m sorry uncle Chris.” He has me sit down on the couch next to him. Chris said “Y/N sweetheart let’s have a heart to heart about that, so it’s all too much hmm?” I nodded and said “I need a break, I’ve been shutting myself off from everything else and I don’t hangout with anyone and I should more but I just don’t have time for anything plus dad.. he doesn’t think I should hangout with many people, I need to be keeping a low profile with everything going on.”

Chris nodded sympathetically and said “ok well why don’t I talk to Scott and we can figure out a solution because honestly darling you deserve to have friends and go out and not just have to focus on school all the time or do what others tell you, you need freedom trust me I know how it is, it’ll help you so much kiddo I love you and want you to be ok.” I smiled and hugged uncle Chris and said “thank you uncle Chris, just coming to you I feel a lot better, I’m just nervous about talking to dad.” Chris gave me a sad smile and said “would you feel better if we talked to him together sweetheart?” I looked at him feeling surprised and said “really? You would go with me?” I was scared about getting in trouble with dad but my uncle going with me already made me more relaxed. Chris smiled and said “Y/N you’re family I love you and I’d do anything for you, I want you to feel like you can come to me anytime ok?” I smiled and said “thank you uncle that means a lot to me.” I felt so much more relaxed knowing someone was on my side.

Uncle Chris and I drove back to my place and we talked to my dad together and got a plan worked out where school would be less stressful and where I would have more freedom and uncle Chris even promised to check on me more. Heart to hearts with family can really do a lot I’m very grateful for my uncle Chris.

Here ya go darling hope you like it 🤍🤍 I did my best 😊xx enjoy, probably not my best one 😅 but I hope you like it hun

@jessybarnes

@fluffycutecevans

@vrittivsanghavi

@nana1000night

@marvelstarker-mha98

[candied-peach]

ao3: “i’m having a great time” rating: T warnings: logan angst, considering ducking out, depression genre: angst, open but hopeful ending description: Logan ponders ducking out when a certain side stops him. ( day 10: “It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it’s mine.” — Mark Z Danielewski, House of Leaves @tsshipmonth2020 )

It's the only logical thing to do.

Logan massages his throat, still sore from Janus's cane yanking him out of the way. Janus has apologized, and Logan believes him, but the fact remains that Janus still did it. Janus still replaced him. Janus unmasked himself. That's what hurts the most. Logan is aware that Janus appeared in a different...format, but it still stings.

The fact remains. Thomas doesn't need him. Oh, Thomas still requires some degree of logic. But if Logan ducks out, Thomas will still have some logic. It won't be like Virgil. He just won't have Logan specifically, not like this, and he thinks maybe that's only for the better.

"Thomas doesn't need me," Logan says out loud, his voice slightly hoarse. "Not anymore." Maybe he did once upon a time. Logan could remember the thrill when Thomas listened to him, when the others cared about what he had to say. But those moments have grown fewer and fewer over the past several years. If there is a particular element of his job missing from Thomas's general subconscious, Logan is positive one of the others will pick it up. He feels bad potentially adding to anybody else's work load, but not enough to stop himself.

A breath of yellow from the corner of his eye, and Logan whirls to see Janus standing there, hesitant and awkward-footed, silver tongue silent for the moment.

"Why are you here?" Logan demands.

"You-" Janus stops. "When someone tells a big enough lie, it summons me," he explains. "I can always hear lies in the mind palace, but the significant ones automatically draw me."

Logan blinks in confusion.

"Your senses must be mistaken, Deceit- Janus," Logan corrects himself. "I have told no lies."

"I disagree," Janus says softly. "I hear lies, Logan. I heard yours."

"What is it?" Logan asks.

"Thomas does need you," Janus says, and Logan freezes.

"Inconceivable," he says through stiff lips. "Try again."

"I'm not lying," Janus insists. "Thomas doesn't just need logic, Logan. He needs you. You're so important and your contributions should be valued. You-"

"Should be," Logan repeats. "Should be, but they aren't." His voice strengthens. "I know what to do, Janus. Please don't try to stop me."

"Ducking out wasn't the right decision for Virgil," Janus says, a wince on his face when he mentions the anxious side. "It's not for you."

"It may be the wrong decision," Logan says softly, "but fuck it, it's mine."

"I won't let you leave quietly," Janus promises, a sad look coming into his mismatched eyes. "I'll get the others, Logan. I'll get Thomas."

"Do it then," Logan says, sitting down on his bed. "If you believe I am so important..." He hesitates, but he cannot make himself say prove it.

"You are," Janus insists. "Please, Logan. Let me show you."

"You can try, I suppose," Logan acquiesces, reluctant to duck out right in front of the other side. "But if you are wrong..."

"If I am wrong, then I won't stand in your way any longer," Janus says, although Logan doubts that. There's too much stubbornness in those eyes. Logan sighs, pushing up his glasses.

"Fine," Logan says, still reluctant. His throat still aches. His heart still hurts. He has not embraced the welcoming numbness that ducking out brings.

Not yet.

[dokidokitsuna]

Just felt like writing out my thoughts on the online art community being attacked from all sides as of late...it’s kinda been one thing after another over the past year, tbh. ^^;;;;

And recently I’ve been thinking about why I, personally, have been feeling anxious and stressed out about it. Because, logically, I shouldn’t really...

I think the people being hit hardest are illustrators: people who just want to draw cool pictures and share/sell them to the public. More than any of us, they’re increasingly being told that their work is worthless and disposable...and I don’t mean to scare anyone, but if AI-generated art survives the legal battles that will be coming for it in the future, I think it’s entirely possible that illustration is going to go the way of portrait painting in the 20th century: a niche novelty, that the average person can’t expect to find customers for anymore.

However...I am not an illustrator. I try to be; it’s what most people expect a visual artist to be, and I’d still like to get better at the act of illustration, if only to help my own work look nicer. But generally, 90% of the drawing that I do on a regular basis is a means to an end. I draw a character so I can construct a design for them, or better understand their personality, or just show how they move and behave. There’s always something bigger I want to do with a drawing, a larger story I want to tell or a larger idea I want to portray. Rarely do I draw something that’s just meant to be beautiful in and of itself (let alone try to sell it...).

Which means I don’t have that much to lose, with the way things are now. My focus is on webcomics, novels, and recently YouTube; even if DeviantArt and Twitter both completely self-destruct tomorrow there aren’t many aspects of my life that would change. I’d be very sad, yes, but I could very easily just move on.

So why do I still feel like I’m being stifled, like I’m stuck in a locked room that keeps getting smaller every time another company publicly declares their total disdain for visual artists in some way...?

Well, I’ve finally figured it out: it’s because I need the rest of you guys.

I need illustrators and other visual artists to exist; I need for there to be giant, thriving, active showcases of their work all over the interwebs. Even if I never participate in them again, I need them to be out there. Because they’re my inspiration.

The biggest reason I’d be sad about saying goodbye to Twitter isn’t the followers I’d lose, it’s that I won’t get to spend hours casually scrolling through my peers’ beautiful artwork anymore. I barely even use DeviantArt these days; I never browse and the last time I uploaded artwork was in September...but the thought of artists feeling the need to delete their entire galleries and leave out of sheer distrust still breaks my heart.

I don’t want to imagine a world where people stop wanting to just...draw. I definitely don’t want to imagine a world where artists feel the only way their work will be seen is if they try to become 1-man entertainment companies the way I do. ^^; I’m insane; what I do isn’t for everyone and it shouldn’t be.

And anyway, I wouldn’t have the strength to do what I do if it wasn’t for the other artists around me, the ones who just draw cool pictures and do it so well that I look at them and think about them for days...the ones who constantly remind me of the beauty and wonder that I’m striving for in my own work.

I know they’re never truly going to disappear...no matter what certain people think, we as artists are not going to be driven extinct; not now and not ever. But it’s still worrying to think about being thrown out and scattered to the wind at any given moment...like many, I just want us to be able to have a home.

[philsmeatylegss]

Rae I’m in my first year of college and everyone around me feels so much older. Like they have fake ids and go drinking and smoke weed and drive cars and act like adults. And i go home every weekend and can’t drive. I am so anxious that I’m going to look back at this point in my life in regret.

I cannot express how much I felt the same way when I had my first year of college (last year lol). Always feel free to pm me if you want to vent more about it, but it’s not at all weird that you feel like this. I went home every weekend for most of my first semester. A lot of y’all comforted me when I was going through it because I just felt so awful and like it wasn’t going to get any better. I think the most important aspect a lot of people don’t talk about is asking are you sad because you want to be going out and party or are you sad because you think you should be doing that. Things got a lot better for me when I accepted that I’m not someone who needs friends or be social to thrive in college. Then again, it can also be you actually want that and it sucks not having it. And honestly, it’s hard to give advice. I know if I one more person tells me to “just put yourself out there” and “maybe join some clubs” or “sit down next to someone in the cafeteria and strike up a conversation,” I’ll fucking rip my head off. Coming from someone who has had an anxiety disorder all my life, i get how frustrating it is to have a solution but not being able to do it. There’s also absolutely no shame in going home on the weekends too. Even my second semester of my sophomore year, there’s been weeks that were just really shitty and I went home as a way to sort of recharge. So many people say to not go home, but I don’t think I would’ve made it if I wasn’t allowed to go home on the weekends. There’s absolutely no shame in it.

Also I know it feels like you’re the only one not partying and drinking with friends, but you’re not. It seems like you’re the only one because those who are in the same position as you aren’t advertising it. They’re also sitting in the background. Take some comfort in knowing that there’s many many many students who are experiencing the exact same emotions you are.

The best advice really I can give is try to sort out if you’re upset because you want to go out and party or because that’s what you think you should be doing. Things get a lot easier to cope with when you answer that question. Know that there’s many who are in the exact same place as you are and this doesn’t make you weak. Know it’s okay to go home often as a way to recharge and cope. A big part of this is a waiting game. Which I know is the worst thing to hear, but that really is the truth.

There also is the very real possibility that college isn’t for you or college isn’t suited for where you are right now in life. I’m taking a class right now and there is an actual grandmother in it. As in she talks about her grandchildren. My point is that you don’t have to do college right away. You can take it literally at anytime between now and your death. There’s no time limit and no shame on maybe starting later than others. A lot of people shit on community college, but doing a year or two at a community college close to home and then doing the rest at a regular college is also a good alternative. You’re still getting the credit with that social pressure being taken off. Or maybe college just isn’t for you. And that’s okay! College will always be an option the rest of your life. It’s not something you have to take right after high school or you won’t ever get a chance to take it again. It’s okay to step back or take a break if that’s what you truly need. I really only recommend doing that, though, if you truly cannot handle the pressure. You cannot find a person who will avoid conflict or avoid doing undesirable tasks more than me. And it was really tempting for me to just be like “yeah, too much, I quit.” But I knew I could try harder. So if you do take the route of taking a break or moving back, please make sure it’s for the right reason.

The movies all fucking lie. Every single portrayal of college in media is just showing up and magically finding a quirky, diverse friend group you perfectly fit in with without putting in any effort. And for some people, college is that. But for a lot of people, it’s not that and people don’t talk enough about it. As i said at the start, I felt exactly the same as you are for months. Just being so frustrated that everyone around me seemingly is thriving when I can’t. I promise it’s not as bad as you think it is. I also promise that you’re not the only one going through this. I also promise that there’s no shame in reaching out or taking a break. Sometimes you just need reassurance that everything will work out, and that’s something I definitely promise. Whether you end up staying at your college, going to community college, taking a break, or not going to college at all, it will work itself out. It’s frustrating and annoying and lonely, but it will work itself out.

[ahthisisagoodday]

Cheesy McCheesen, my thought exactly

I barely write down about my cheesy feelings, I might not a romantic person, but now this might different. Maybe this is one of the most manly thing that I’ve ever been doing :p

Hi Claudya, this one is for you.

Did you know that we have been knowing each other for three months? Time flies, right? Let’s go back when the first time I started text you and told you that your face was very familiar and I felt that I’ve met you a couple of times in random places around Jaksel? Until this day that still feels weird sometimes.

Time goes by and you know that today, two months ago, was the first time I felt ✨very excited✨ to text you? I felt bit nervous but happy at the same time? You talked to me how you misordered ojek then 2 drivers came by and you had to reject one of them. I was thinking “dih dasar anak aneh” hahaha. From that day, I know there is something interesting about you.

Let's be honest, I have never been a fan to text with new person. It’s exhausting to find new topics, sometimes it’s tricky enough because we have to pretend to be someone else or maybe we like trying so hard to excite with the conversation, aren’t we? But it’s kinda feels different with you. All the conversation we built is just flowing and smooth, I don’t have to be a someone else and the most important is I always thrill to talk to you.

Claudya, you know all things about me, you know what I have been through, you know my struggles, and you know what my relationship was like. I had a bad one and sometimes made me fear in certain situation. I’m not fine at all. But it seems gone when I next to you, I feel like I discover a “new me”. I don’t feel any doubt to share everything from A to Z to you and what makes me admire you is how the way you take care of others feelings, the way you behave with people around you, and how you put manners above of all it makes me, melt? WK :’) *seriously, though

From that day I can’t stop thinking about you. As cheesy as it might sounds, but it’s true.

Let’s start with my anxious feelings came up if you didn’t reply my text for hours or feelings of jealousy if you go out with someone you never tell me to? Ugh actually it hurts me sometimes :/

However I don't know what kind of magic you have there, but you definitely changed a lot of things. I almost losing hope such love and relationship but you have changed my views on those stuff. My heart was moved, I also trying so friggin' hard to be a better version of myself—precisely to get rid my biggest issue: being indifferent alias cuek.

Remember you brought me tons of surprises on my birthday? The candle? That was the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. That also was my happiest day this year with no doubt. Remember when I took you out for ramen dinner? I was shaking a bit right after we sit opposite each other, eye contact intensely for the first time but thank God I’m good at hiding it, hehe.

Also remember the day you took care of me when I was on panic attack, sick, and had to treated in hospital? You try so hard to calm me down, you sent me one or two set of meals? I knew you were just being kind to me but I felt I’m so lucky to have you around me.

I mean it in the day I said that ✨I like you✨. Wow that was sort of crazy thing that came straight from my mouth. Actually I honestly expect nothing, I just trying to honest with myself. Feeling sad? Yes, but I also realize this is too fast to expect such a yes-answer. We might don’t know more each other yet.

I miss you terribly though I always try to meet you once a week. Even when I got home after I was with you I still miss you like crazy. Maybe this is what they call: the mystery of courtship phase.(?)

Claudya, I hope this is not a false alarm. The day I asked you “Can I fight this and patiently wait for you?” then you replied “boleh Mas ehehe”, I really took this seriously from the bottom of my heart. I don’t want to lose you, I will try my best. If you need time to assure all of these things, it’s very o-kay for me, I will be waiting for you until you ready. Three, four, five months? You can tell. But in the middle of this I also hope you can slowly start to open your heart too and let me in, take care of me, or even ask or tell me anything you need. Just let’s do this genuinely? 🥺

But if the other way around occurs, please tell me and share to me too *but I hope that is not gonna happen. Finger crossed*.

I know maybe there is something burdening your heart to start this: our piece differences on our views about God, isn’t it? Clau, if we meant to be, I don’t mind to make these different things into one. It’s odd as it might sounds, but that’s true.

So yeah this is a longest piece of writing that I’ve ever written—notably about my feelings right know. If you ask me what I’m feeling right now? It’s a kinda mixed feelings situation.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

I miss you so much, silly!

You know what scares me the most right now? You are getting away and I’m losing you. :(

from: your biggest fan when you are doing “wlee”.

[calamityandme]

AM I AUTISTIC OR AM I MAKING THIS DIFFERENT THAN WHAT IT REALLY IS?

I couldn’t understand when my friend was trying to have a serious conversation with me. She looked me in the eyes for a long time and I couldn’t understand what she was trying to convey. Other people do that all the time and they aren’t necessarily autistic. This happens to me on a almost daily basis.

When I was a kid I would go nonverbal when I was upset or hurt by my parents. They would beg me to speak to them or yell at me for not talking. I couldn’t find the words I needed to say. I couldn’t speak for myself. I would just stare at a wall, crying, my mind racing a million miles an hour.

I have been so completely exhausted since my big weekend. Engagement party on Friday and a short friend hang out Saturday. It was too much at once. I fell asleep at 9 last night and didn’t wake up until 10 today. Even after all that sleep I am just completely exhausted. On the verge of tears tired. My partner wanted to have sex today but I can’t because of the exhaustion in my body and mind. I can’t do more than like one social thing a week without needing days to recover.

I think I stim but maybe I’m making it up. My stimming looks different than what I’ve seen. I always have a song playing in my head that my toes have to follow the rhythm of almost all the time. One of my friends can’t be around me when my toes are “wiggling” because the feeling of the movement bothers her lol. Sometimes I have to rap my fingernails in a rhythmic way to be able to focus or tap out the energy. Especially when I’m in stressful situations. When I’m overwhelmed often I shake the feelings out with my hands until the bad feelings lessen. I have a vocal tic that is diagnosed but I don’t think that’s the same thing. When I’m alone and overwhelmed humming to myself helps. People get annoyed so I try not to do it in front of others if I can.

I have been hurting myself and it’s really really hard to stop. I pick my fingers constantly. I’m biting my skin and nails to point of blood and pain. I have been picking my toes as well as biting the inside of my mouth. I don’t just do it when I’m anxious. I just do it all the time. Any strong feeling makes me want to pick. Happy, sad, anxious, mad, hungry—I want to pick. Whatever I pick has to be “even” on the other side of my hand/foot so if it isn’t I’ll fix it. I just want to stop.

There’s many other reasons I think I may be on the spectrum but I just don’t feel like going on and on.

I don’t want to get a diagnosis because I’m worried to lose the opportunity to escape the United States if I need to. If I wanted to live in Canada for example I don’t think I could get citizenship with a diagnosis. At the same time, my quality of life might get better if I could get work accommodations in the US and be able to have a reason for the way I am. Not saying autism is a negative thing. I don’t want anyone to think I’m saying it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying I wish I know if I was really on the spectrum or if I’m just allistic and can’t handle things as well as other allistics.

I don’t know. I just needed to vent. I just feel stuck. I need to find a therapist but I am so broke that I can’t afford therapy even with Medicaid.

[abbatoirablaze]

Supernatural

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  death, angst, mentions of deals with demons

1983

“You got him?” Mary asked, her grip tightening ever so slightly with her newborn.  John gave her a look, but pretended nothing was out of the norm as he took him from his wife. 

“I got him,” John confirmed.  She nodded and walked back out of Sammy’s room; nodding towards the stairs.  John sighed, “Mary…c-“

“He’ll be down in a second…you can wait in the living room.  He’s putting Sam and Dean to bed,” she said quickly.  She began to turn on her heel, but stopped when I grabbed her hand, “is there something you need to say, Thea?”

“You could be civil, you know,” I offered.  Her eyes narrowed at me.  My own jaw tightened in response, “Mary…”

“I know what you are,” she said simply, “I haven’t said anything because I know you’ve protected John before we were together, so there’s obviously something half decent inside you despite it, but you’re a demon.”

“I’m not though,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m so much more th-“

“Yeah, you’ve passed the tests,” she said, shrugging me off.  Her words bit into me like venom as she continued over my own words, “but that doesn’t mean that you are okay in my eyes.  I don’t know how but you are getting around it.  Did you force John to allow you in?”

“No,” I gasped, “I would nev-“

“I don’t care,” she said, shushing me, “the point is that you aren’t welcome with me.  I don’t want you to be around my boys.  Any of them.  Regardless of what John says.”

“Mary I-“

“Don’t try and talk your way out of it.  You’ll never change my mind,” she hissed, “Just don’t.  You had a relationship with John before he went away, and you broke his heart.  I know that.  He refuses to tell me what happened, but I can see it in the way he looks at you.  And I’ll be damned if you wrap my babies around your demonic little fingers.  Tonight, you’re done.  You get this final conversation with John, and then you leave his life forever.  There is no more random visits where I see the pain in his eyes days after…there’s no more binges that happen when you leave without explanation.  Tonight is it!  Do you understand me?”

“And what if I don’t want to leave him alone, Mary?” I asked, taking a step forward.  She held her ground and continued to glare at me, “what if John still needs protecting from things your tiny little brain can’t comprehend?”

“What could you possibly do?” she asked spitefully, “what could you protect my family from that I can’t?”

“Remember the bed you made yourself Mary,” I whispered, in a deadly tone, “you were the only one that made a deal with a demon in your family.  I’m protecting John and your boys from the true evil…”

“My family is full of hunters,” she growled, “I can take on whatever comes my way.”

“I don’t think you can.”

Her eyes narrowed even more at me if it was at all possible. 

“Hey,” a male voice said quickly, his voice in a hushed tone.  The last few stairs creaked underneath his feet as he rushed to his wife’s side and kissed her cheek, “I got Dean down.”

She didn’t respond to him.  She gave me a satisfied smirk and walked away, back up the stairs.  After her patter had faded into their bedroom, he looked at me. 

“I don’t think she likes me much,” I admitted.  He gave a sad glance to the staircase, then back to me, shrugging it off, “she doesn’t want me around…”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she likes me much some days either,” he laughed.  I sighed softly, knowing what was going to happen tonight.  His rough hands held my chin, “hey, what’s got you looking so sad?”

“Just had a bad feeling all day today,” I lied, looking deep into his eyes, “I was anxious to see you.  I had to see you, John…”

He sighed too, this time letting go of my face so that he could be sitting down in his chair.  He turned the television on and let some western movie play in the background, “you know, it’s been years since I’ve seen you…and you just show up out of the blue…looking like a teenager still.  Hell, I’m only a few years older than you.  What’s your secret to being so youthful?”

“John please stop with the jokes.  You know something is going on…I know you can feel it in the air, so stop with the dismissive remarks,” I pled, sitting down on the couch next to him.  I tried to take his hand, and I saw him instinctively look to his left so that he could see up the staircase, “John.”

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he admitted nervously, “You know Mary doesn’t like when you show up unannounced.”

“Mary doesn’t like when I show up at all, John…I already told you, I had a bad feeling,” I repeated, knowing my options.  If I stayed, I would have the chance to save John, Dean, and Sam.  If I left, then only Sam would live.  The other timeline showed him growing up an orphan.  I couldn’t let that happen. 

“You always show up at the worst times,” he sighed, admitting that something had been going on, “Mary has been paranoid the past few days about the boys, but she won’t tell me anything.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I showed then?” I asked.  He sighed and reached so that his other hand was now on top of both of mine.

“I’m glad you showed up,” he admitted, “you know that…”

“Me too, John.” I admitted with a smile. 

“Daddy, I can’t sleep,” a small voice said, coming into the living room, “I keep having bad dreams.”

“Shit,” he sighed.  The little boy stopped rubbing his eyes long enough to transfix themselves on me.  He lit up, “Bud-“

“THEA!” he smiled, “you’re back!”

“I am,” I smiled, reaching out to him.  He quickly rushed into my arms and gave me a big hug, “I missed you so much, buddy.”

“I missed you too,” he smiled, blushing.  He let go of me, only to crawl onto the couch beside me.  Then he looked at John, “daddy, can I stay up with you and Althea until I fall asleep?”

“I’m all for it,” I smiled, “I love Dean snuggle time.”

He smiled, and John huffed, caving in to me, “alright, but when you go to sleep I’m carrying you upstairs so that mommy doesn’t know, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“And tomorrow when you wake up, we’ll go on an adventure!” I said, trying to sound hopeful.  He smiled, snuggling into me.  John sighed to himself, and we made idol conversation.  Every once in a while, he would go back out to the kitchen to grab himself a beer, until eventually I saw him begin to drift off.  It wasn’t long after that I had began to feel sleepy, and I copied his actions. 

When I woke up, the clock had been frozen in place.

Shit. 

Dean was also missing.

Shit. 

Getting up as quietly as I could, I saw Dean in the entryway of the house.  The door was wide open and outside I saw it. 

I saw her. 

“Dean?” I asked, turning towards him.  He was standing, staring at the little girl across the street, “Dean did she talk to you?”

“I can hear her now,” he said in a confused tone, “I thought she said she wants to play.  Then the door opened.”

“Go upstairs, now,” I commanded, “Don’t let her in, do you understand me?”

“Why?”

“Go!”

Giving me a pouty look, he followed my instructions, but not before looking back at his dad, “please don’t tell daddy.  She said that she’d take care of us if I came outside.”

Being as quiet as I could, I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.  The girl made no move to change her position from the other side of the street, but I could feel her cold gaze trying to penetrate through me.  The Enochian etchings on my bones didn’t allow her to do so, but I could feel her trying to invade my space.

“It won’t work,” I growled in a low tone to my demonic sister, “you know it won’t…so stop trying.”

“You could play with me too,” she said simply, “you.  John.  Dean.  Sammy!  There’s no need for all of this hostility, sister.”

But as she said Sammy’s name, she looked to the upper window in the house.  My eyes followed her own as I saw the one and only yellow-eyed demon, Azazel. 

Shit. 

“Wait,” she pled nervously, “please don’t leave me again.  We are two sides of the same coin.  We are our father’s creations.”

“Y-“

The voice sounded so fragile, and I couldn’t help but to turn around and look at her.  She smiled at me through completely white eyes.  “I’m not my father’s creation.  I was ripped from him to make sure you fail.”

That’s when I heard Mary’s scream. 

SHIT!

“Looks like she’s out of time,” the little girl giggled.  I ignored her comments and bolted back to the house.  Throwing open the door I saw Dean running down the stairs, Sam in his arms. 

“Daddy,” he yelled, looking back up the stairs.  I heard the door slam behind me, and I knew that Lilith was part of it.  The door was hot to the touch, “Althea, daddy is upstairs!”

“GO!” I yelled, grabbing the door and using my grace to rip it open.  It felt like Lilith tried to hold it shut, but I outpulled her.  Without waiting I ran up the stairs.  The ceiling was engulfed in flames, all leading to Sammy’s room, “JOHN!”

“MARY!” he continued to yell, trying to get her back. 

I reached forward, grabbing his robe, “John, she’s gone!  We have to go.”

The flames got bigger, as they licked down the walls, and were reaching the floor, “Mary-she-“

“JOHN COME ON!” I yelled, using all the strength I had in me.  I dragged him from the room and down the stairs so that we were at the door.  That’s when he noticed his sons on the lawn and ran to them. 

“DEAN!” he yelled, reaching for him, “SAM!”

I searched wildly through the arriving sea of people, looking for any signs of the two demons that caused the chain of events to unfold.  But I was left with the sound of sirens and concerned voices filling the air.

John raced back over to me, his boys in his arms, and he wrapped the three of them around me.  My arms felt like they were moving on their own accord as I wrapped them around him and the boys, my eyes still searching past him, “it’s okay John…we’ll figure this out…we’ll get through this…”

“Yellow eyes…”John muttered softly, his tears falling down his cheeks and onto my shoulder, “it had yellow eyes…”

[twenytwenytwo]

Dec 28 2022 (5:50am)

Slept good, from what I remember. I was fully asleep most of the night, though the usual wakings occurred. Only 1-2 though, which is surprising given my aroused state before bed.

Yeah, so yesterday I got rather triggered it seems. The degree to which I can be set off is either just purely physical right now, which I somewhat doubt, or there’s something within my software that needs to be repaired.

I believe there is an underlying belief that my impatience and frustration are rooted within. A belief that my worth in the world is dependant on the degree to which I am productive.

This is of course somewhat true, in that society (the mass of humans I live within) values work. Without it, things would fall into disrepair, and we’d all get pretty hungry, cold, or at least bored.

But the value I believe I’m talking about is… the most basic of value. To be valuable enough to be loved, to be a friend, to enjoy life. Valuable enough to be considered by others, perceived, worth inviting to a gathering. Worth kissing.

I seem as though I am harbouring a belief that unless I am superbly productive, I cannot enjoy life, and I am not human or something. It is an immense falsehood, obviously.

This feeling stirs me into a frenzy to produce something of value, to work on a song, to build a website for a new business, something. It seems like this frantic urge is piggy backing on an theory of sorts a proposed a while back:

Paraphrased, “If you’re not developing yourself, improving, acting with purpose, by the simple fact that time is passing and more importantly entropy is rolling it’s fickle dice, you are decaying. Developing ourselves toward an ideal is the means by which we make the inevitability of change work for us, and if we are not, we slowly lose ourselves to decay. Improving ourselves is, in this way, is keeping ourselves the same.”

The basic mechanic here makes sense. Everything is falling a part as a function of time, so use time to improve things instead. In fact if you don’t improve yourself, you aren’t just staying where you are (perhaps you’re satisfied), decay will slowly pull it away from you.

It is insightful, yet in it’s extreme, anxiety inducing. To think that unless I am muscling toward my ideal, I am getting into my grave… it’s almost certainly counter productive. Writing music, etc, should not be motivated by the fear of symbolic death, and if it is, doesn’t amount to very much, or is at least very unsustainable.

So yes, anyway, there is something flawed in my operating philosophy still. I mean, I knew I was still working at things, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

I am very tired of not enjoying life because of some distant ideal, some better circumstance looming in the realm of possibility. A little bit if friction, sure, but being totally overwhelmed with anxious energy over not being able to work for a day… is a little much.

Last night, I went to Chapters and found myself, as usual, in the philosophy department. I encountered a couple books by The School Of Life that basically countered my “theory” above. The first was a praise of ordinary life, what I might call mundane life sometimes, and affected me. I was feeling emotional already and reading it made me well up a bit because it harkened back to a version of myself that was very very into the idea of a quiet life. The point it made was that perhaps people are so bent on being fabulous and busy and amazing because they simply cannot absorb that value any moment has to offer. They cannot appreciate what they’ve already done, so they look for more.

It was incredibly sad to think I myself had somehow gotten on that path, believing that music was the only life for me, dreams of a big house, moving to a more eventful city… the usual.

The second was in another book, and scattered among a few chapters. The overarching theme was that “everything will go wrong, you won’t get what you want, and you’ll die uncomfortably”. Dark, yeah, but largely true.

There were exercises in this book that ran your mind through not getting what you want, and being okay with it. Being okay with your dreams dying. For me, this is very unexplored territory. Part of my software was to never go there because… well why bother? Anyway, yeah, imagine the worst thing happening and how you could be okay with it. That’s life.

Even when you do get what you want, there’s always a price, something lost that will make you question what all the sweat was even for. And if you don’t get what you want, you wonder what’s even worth living for, bearing the weight of existence.

The key is in the middle. To expect and prepare for the worse, but work toward the best. If you build your house of cards seriously expecting it not to fall… you’re an idiot. If you almost perfect it, and it falls at the last card, laugh and do it all over.

All this while I was already stirred up made me feel like I had made a dumb error. How could I have gotten to this point? Trembling with anxious energy over unfulfilled expectations of tremendousness… I felt I had disrespected my own nature.

I was okay though. I am this morning, too. I still have some retooling to do. To balance my artistic life, my drive forward, with an outlook that is a little more reliable, and if fortune grants me an insane gift, enjoy it while it lasts. Fortune gives us nothing that we get to keep.

Pictured: my wandering around the north end yesterday evening. The Doors were at Home Depot.

[marvelslut16]

Can't fight this feeling IV

Jim Hopper x Wheeler!reader

Synopsis: A reader insert where the reader is Mike’s oldest sister, who has already graduated and works at the police station. She has always been infatuated with Hopper, and he seems to be quite taken with her as well. This part takes place in season 1 episode 5

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: swearing probably. Talk of funerals and dead bodies. A character learns how to shoot a gun, in probably too much depth. My bad writing/different writing styles from different times I added to the chapter. Age gap relationship. And eventual Stranger Things canon gore.

A/n: It has been a very long two years since my last update. I was honestly so uninspired because the show wasn't on and I wasn't getting any new content. Besides that, I was busy with school and life, as well as not knowing how to end this chapter. But here it is. Let me know if you no longer want to be tagged in this, or if you're new and want to be added to the taglist. I'm already a few paragraphs into part 5.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After a restless night, I barely slept a wink because I was too busy thinking about the Byers’ and Hop, my alarm goes off informing me that it’s time to get ready for the funeral. Will’s funeral. A part of me keeps thinking that he’s not actually dead, especially since Mike seems more anxious than upset as he fidgets at the breakfast table. 

I put on my black dress and heels in a blur, not even registering that I’m going through the motions until I’m standing fully dressed in front of my mirror. Mike comes in a few minutes later and asks me for help with his tie; dad was choking him and he says it still doesn’t look right. Very few words are exchanged throughout the family this morning, everyone is just going through the motions. 

The funeral is a bit better, I have to help Jonathan with his tie too. I stand behind his seat, hand resting on his shoulder as the Priest speaks, and I glare at Lonnie as he tries to act sad that Will is ‘dead.’ Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are whispering amongst themselves, further fueling my theory that they know something about Will that they aren’t telling me. 

As the service continues I start to glance around the crowd in hopes to find Hop, we didn’t part on good terms last night but he said he’d be here. As much as I hate to admit it, especially if all of this is fake and Will is still alive somewhere, I need Hop. I need him by my side, intertwined pinkies, or wrapped up in his side as he speaks soothing words, even if he doesn’t believe what he's saying and just reiterating the fake reassurances that my mom has told me a thousand times already. 

He’s still not here by the end of the service, making me extremely anxious that something did in fact go wrong last night. The nerves in the pit of my stomach are wound so tight that I feel like I’m going to vomit. After the line of people telling the Byers’ the cookie cutter ‘I’m sorry’s,’ and the ‘if there’s anything I can do’s,’ I walk over to Joyce and Jonathan to see if they’ve talked to Hop at all. 

“Have you guys seen Hop?” I ask Jonathan and Joyce quietly, trying my hardest to ignore Lonnie.

“Hopper is a no good drunk, you’d do better without him in this town,” the man I was attempting to avoid rolls his eyes at me.

“Oh fuck off Lonnie!” everyone still at the gravesite turns to look at me with shocked expressions, except Jonathan who’s trying not to laugh. “Go back to your cheap whore.”

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Wheeler!” mom says sharply from behind me, Mike is audibly laughing. 

“We were all thinking it!” I defend, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Someones got a crush on Jim, huh?” he gives me a sickening, sleazy, smile that I just want to slap right off his face. “I thought my son would have found some courage and asked you out by now, no other reason to keep you around.”

“Hopper is my boss, I work with him at the station,” I’m seething. Who does this man think he is talking to me like that? “Jim Hopper is a surprisingly thoughtful boss who is good at his job, and someone I respect very much. And, for your information, Jonathan and I are best friends. Neither of us has ever felt anything more for the other. And Lonnie, we both know that whenever you get whatever it is that you want, you’ll be tearing out of Hawkins with no regard for Joyce or Jonathan, so quit acting holier than thou and just leave.”

I swiftly turn on my heel and head to the car, thankful that I drove seperate from my parents this morning; I took my mother’s car and the other five took my father’s. My heart is pounding, I can hear the blood pulsating in my ears as I start to drive away from Lonnie, from a possibly fake body, and away from Jonathan without properly talking to him. I can always go see the latter later tonight and talk with him then. I’m racing down the streets of Hawkins like a bat out of Hell, finally coming to the edge of town where Hop’s trailer is located. 

Pulling up to his trailer I’m shocked to see him outside looking around in circles, the barrel of his gun pointed towards the sky. He looks like hell; messed up hair like he just rolled out of bed, his cream colored henley has sweat stains around the collar, in his armpits, and down the back. He has a crazed look in his eyes, he looks traumatized.

I jump out of the car with no regard for my well-being, he isn’t right in the head at the moment and he could very well shoot me thinking I’m the bad guy. Lonnie’s words are still fresh in my mind; maybe Hopper went to bed drunk and high on too many of his pills. No! Snap out of it, he’s not like that. He hears my footfalls crunching on the gravel; he whips around pointing his gun at me.

My hands immediately go up in the air in surrender, I need to be careful about my next actions. My eyes widen as he keeps the gun up longer than I thought he would. All of a sudden he seems to snap out of it realizing it’s me and not some threat. He looks at me guilty as he lowers the weapon. 

“(Y/N)?” he asks, his eyes and voice telling me that he’s unsure that I’m actually real. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” I try to soothe him like I would a wild animal. My voice is soft and I slowly step closer to him, hands outstretched and palms facing towards him so he knows I won’t attack. “You weren’t at the funeral, I came to make sure you were okay.”

“I missed the funeral?” he asks, still confused and disoriented. I slowly, gently, reach forward and take the gun from his hand. He doesn’t protest, pushing the weapon into my palm once he realizes what I’m doing. 

“Yeah you did,” I take a careful step back, heels sinking into the dirt under my feet. “I was worried because of where you went after you dropped me off last night. I was scared you were hurt, or worse…” I trail off at the end, not wanting to admit out loud that deep down I was worried that Hop got killed last night. 

My words seem to remind him of why he was outside with a gun in the first place, he takes off running back inside without a word. I follow him in confusion, he’s tearing apart the living room as I walk through the door. 

“Hopper, what are you doing?” I ask in horror, Lonnie's words run through my head yet again. Is it possible that Hop was on a bender before he went to sleep and he was still drunk when he woke up?

Instead of responding verbally, Hop takes two long strides across the entire living room area to get to me, putting his hand over my mouth so I can’t talk again. He puts the index finger from his free hand to his lips as a sign for me to stay quiet, before pointing around the room. I frown as he leaves his hand on my face for a few seconds too long. 

I watch as he finally pulls back, observing him tearing apart the cushions for his couch and pulling his phone apart piece by piece. I glance around the room, noticing the spilled pills on his coffee table. Frowning, I set Hop’s gun on the table and put his pills back in the bottle as well as tidy up the empty beer cans strewn on it. 

Hop rushes to the bathroom as I start to tidy up the mess he created in the living room. I can hear him taking apart the light fixtures in there and my worry for his sanity starts to grow. I sigh and sink down onto the ground, the living room is a mess and I don’t have the heart nor the energy to continue cleaning. First we bury Will, or whatever that was, and now Hop’s losing it, how can this day get any worse? I bury my head in my hands as I hear him rush from room to room, tearing them all apart. 

Hop comes back into the living room like a hurricane, tearing apart anything he missed the first time around. I let out a squeak as he throws a light bulb to the ground, it smashes into a million pieces less than a foot away from me. I don’t want to make it worse and get in the way; but I also don’t want him to hurt himself as he destroys his home. 

The last thing untouched in his entire house is the ceiling light in his living room. His shoulders are tense as he unscrews the bolt to take off the glass covering the bulbs. My eyes widen in shock as he pulls down a listening device, or more commonly known as a bug. What the hell did Hop get himself into last night? Hop grits his teeth in an angry sneer before grabbing a book he threw from his room, and smashing the bug repeatedly until there was no way it was still functional. 

“Hop?” I finally dare to ask, raising from the floor carefully avoiding the broken lightbulb. “What happened last night?”

“I went back to the morgue,” Hop runs his fingers through his hair, pulling briefly on the ends. “I-I cut into the body, and it wasn’t real. It was stuffed just like a teddy bear, or some shit.”

“Oh my god,” I murmur under my breath, not expecting to get a response from the man in front of me. 

“So then I snuck into Hawkins lab, got pretty far too,” he continues with his story like I didn’t interrupt. His eyes keep darting around the room like he’s expecting something to hop out at him. “I found a room with a stuffed animal and a kid’s drawing on the wall. The basement- the basement had weird white things floating in the air, there were vines growing out of a glowing hole in the wall. I was surrounded by men in white hazmat suits, next thing I know I’m waking up on the couch; my pills are spilled on the table with lots of empty beer cans that I didn’t drink.”

“Will’s still out there, probably in that glowy viney thing,” I cover my mouth, suppressing a sob. I’m not sure what’s worse; Will being dead, or him still being out there and being held somewhere in Hawkins lab. “We’ve gotta save him Hop, and I’m not letting you do anything by yourself again. I’m not having you die on my watch, not when I can be there to help you.”

Hop is opening his mouth to protest you helping him, you can tell by the scrunch of his face he’s not thrilled with your idea, but tires on the dirt path outside stop him. He yanks me away from the window, grabbing his gun off the coffee table, he pushes me behind him and away from danger. Two pairs of footsteps clomp down on the stairs leading to the front door, and Hop rips the door open before the people can knock.

“Hello? Whoa! - Hey!” Callahan exclaims when Hop steps out of his trailer, gun in hand. 

“Jesus, Chief,” Powell looks at Hopper warily. “You all right?”

“What are you doing here?” Hop’s body is positioned just so that someone would have to be looking intently into the trailer to notice me behind his back. 

“We tried calling but,” Powell’s voice trails off at the end.

“Yeah, phones dead,” Hops voice is gruff and his answer clipped. I can tell he wants the two idiots on his front porch to leave, so he can continue to talk to me about what happened and where to go from here.

“Whoa, (Y/N), what are you doing here?” a shiver crawls up my spine as Callahan gives me a once over. Hop subconsciously- or consciously, I’m not quite sure which- moves in front of me completely to block Callahan’s pervy gaze. 

“Hop wasn’t at Will’s funeral, so I came by to check on him,” I push Hop out of the way and step beside him on the small porch, shutting the front door behind me. It would look a lot worse, and far more suggestive, if Hop was hiding me from view. This way it looks like we aren’t hiding anything- hiding me being there- well, except hiding the torn apart living room from the two doofuses.

Both Callahan and Powell give me disbelieving looks, Powell more so because he saw the way I was with the librarian who slept with Hop the other day, but neither of them voice their opinions on the matter. Instead Callahan starts telling Hop why they showed up in the first place, two more people in town are missing. The naive men in front of us think that everyone’s on edge because of Will’s death, but Hop and I are both thinking that it has to do with whatever is happening at the lab. 

“You go back to the station,” Hop tells the men to go back to the station once he finds out that the men went hunting near Mirkwood. My heart stuttered a bit hearing Hop himself call it that, it makes me wonder if I’m rubbing off on him, or just the boys and this case. “(Y/N) and I will look into this.”

“Are you sure?” Callahan looks awkwardly between Hop and me. I assume he’s unsure if he wants to leave me alone with Hop, especially with how wild and out of it the Chief looks to an outsider. 

“Yeah, leave it,” Hop insists, pushing me slightly as a way of telling me to open the door. 

“Oh, hey. Uh, they found Barbara’s car,” Callahan continues before I can open the door. 

“What?” Hop and I ask at the same time, blood draining from my face. 

“Barbara Holland’s car, seems she ran away after all,” Powell adds, finishing the revelation for his partner. “Staties found it late last night at a bus station.”

“Funny, right?” Callahan adds, almost seeming to catch on that something is majorly off. “They keep doing our job for us.”

“Funny, right,” Hop and I say at the same time, this time he’s more forceful with shoving me towards the door. I quickly open it and he guides me inside, slamming the door shut behind him, putting distance between us and the prying eyes of our dense coworkers.

Once the door shuts I start to clean up the living room again, sighing at the knife made rips in the apoulster of his couch, too long for me to even consider sewing back up for him. I know he was freaking out, but there’s literally a zipper right there in the back, he could have used that instead of stabbing them. While I sweep up the broken light bulbs and try to salvage anything he threw across the room earlier, Hop focuses on fixing his phone, even going as far as to duct tape the mouthpiece back together. 

Once the living room is clean, or as clean as I can get it at this particular moment, I head to the bathroom to clean that up too. I avoid his bedroom though, I know how private and personal someone’s bedroom is, that’s why I threaten Nancy and Mike anytime they go snooping through mine. By the time I’m finished in the bathroom Hop has the phone fixed and is using it to call someone. Normally I wouldn’t snoop, he deserves his privacy, but my feet feel frozen in place when I hear a woman’s voice coming from the other side of the line. 

“I know, I know, I know I shouldn’t be calling you,” Hopper sighs into the phone, playing with the bracelet he made from Sara’s hair ties. “I just wanted to...I just wanted to say that, um...even after everything that happened, I don’t...I don’t regret any of it. And those seven years, they were...everything to me.”

My heart breaks at his words, and it continues to break for him when his ex wife asks if he’s been drinking again. I didn’t know my heart could ache for him anymore than it already did, not until I see Hop’s body tense when he hears a baby start crying from the other end. She’s moved on and he hasn’t. She gets a second chance at that happily ever after bullshit, and Hopper is the Chief of Police in a small town that seems to be overtaken by some crazy powerful and dangerous outside enemy that isn’t afraid to kill anyone in it’s way. 

“You know what, actually, I have been drinking, I’m sorry,” I frown as he starts to shut her out, it’s like I can see the walls he’s built over the years start to be reinforced. “Just take care of yourself, okay? Say hi to Bill for me.” Hop slams the receiver down, hanging up on his ex wife before she can respond, setting the phone on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hop,” I sigh, holding my dress in place as I slide down the dividing wall between his kitchen and living room next to him.

 As soon as my butt touches the ground his phone starts to ring, I glance between him and the aforementioned phone wondering if he’ll pick it up. He doesn’t, he makes no move to answer it, just letting it ring. He does, however, slide his left hand across the floor and close to my right one. Hops left pinky lifts off the ground, hooks around my right one, our hands resting on the floor with our pinky’s tightly entwined. We sit like that for what feels like a long while, at least twenty or thirty minutes. I start to wonder how many times Hop’s ex wife would have called had he not ripped the phone from the wall after the second unanswered one. 

“How ‘bout I teach you to shoot,” Hop turns to me, I can’t quite read the emotion in his blue eyes, but it’s almost like they're pleading with me to say yes. I nod back and he stands, pulling me from my seated position. 

“Should I take my heels off?” I glance down at by black pumps while Hop digs the empty beer cans, the ones the people from Hawkins lab left strewn about his coffee table, out of the trash. 

“Yeah, you’ll need good balance,” Hop heads for the door, beer cans cradled in his left arm, grabbing his firearm off the coffee table with his right hand as he passes it. 

I take off my heels as I start to head towards the door, tossing them carelessly behind me in the general direction of the ruined couch. Rushing in front of Hopper, now barefoot, I open the door for him so he doesn’t have to worry about shifting the beer cans around and possibly dropping any. I follow him out the door, towards the back of his trailer and the pond behind it. Hop drops the beer cans on the grass, grabbing one and setting it on a stump of wood, the gashes on the top of the wood lead me to believe that he uses this stump to chop wood. 

Hop hands me his police issued handgun, stepping behind me once I take it. Instinctually I wrap both of my hands around the handle, my dominant hand resting slightly higher, trigger finger on the side of the barrel. I have this much knowledge of holding a gun from observing Hop, for far too long, any time he has his weapon drawn. Hop gently kicks my right foot out so my feet are shoulder width apart, I move my dominant foot forward a tad, raising my arms in front of me. 

“‘Kay, now use the little bump out on the top as a guide,” his hands rest on my shoulders, before sliding down slightly to help me aim. “Line it up with the beer can and pull the trigger.”

I take a deep breath, anchoring myself to the ground for the blowback, pointer finger moving to the trigger and pulling it. I didn’t anchor myself well enough, falling back into Hop’s chest slightly. I’m too embarrassed from this new position to hear the sound of metal ripping through tin. 

“You did great kid,” Hop whispers into my ear, sending an involuntary shiver up my spine, a shiver I can’t hide from him since we’re still pressed together. Hop slides his hands from my upper arms to my forearms, pushing slightly to lower the gun towards the ground.

“Oh my god! I did it!” I screech louder than intended when I look up to the empty stump. The can is behind the wood, a bullet embedded in the center of the logo, I hit the target on my first try! 

I set the gun on the ground, turning, and jumping into Hop’s arms. My arms are tightly wrap around his neck, and his easily slide around my waist. He holds me close for longer than necessary, but not nearly long enough for my liking: every touch from Hopper is like an itch that can’t be scratched, every time I think I’ll be satisfied but it always leaves me wanting more. 

Once Hop unwraps himself from my hold, he moves to put another beer can on the stump. This time he stays off to the side, I’m left wondering if the hug is the cause of the new position or if Hop just wants me to try alone. We go through ten more empty beer cans, I hit every single one on the first try. Hop also teaches me how to load the clip and the gun, as well as unclip it and put the safety on. 

After Hop finishes teaching me how to protect myself, he grabs my heels when he goes inside to grab one of his coats and hat, and I grab his police department jacket from my car to wear. After grabbing the aforementioned things we get into his truck to warn Joyce that her house may be bugged too, and to let her n\know that Will is probably alive somewhere lost and confused.. Hop keeps glancing my way the entire car ride, and I just nervously play with the hem of my dress. I really don’t want to see Lonnie again, and I especially don’t want him to see Hop. If Lonnie says one bad thing to Hopper in front of me, I may just deck him.

Once we pull up to Joyce’s house, Hop finds an old takeout menu in his car and grabs the pen sticking out of my jacket pocket to write a note telling Joyce to be quiet. Hop finally opens his door and I practically sprint out of my side of the car, having forgone putting on my shoes, and up to the Byers front porch. I’m pounding on the door before Hop has closed his own car door. 

“Go away Lonnie!” I hear Joyce yell from inside the house. I wonder if Joyce has kicked Lonnie to the curb again, finally, as I continue to aggressively pound on the door. Hop joins me on the front porch just as Joyce rips the front door open. “Seriously? I am going to murder-”

Hop and I hold our fingers to our lips to shush an ax wielding Joyce, in Hop’s other hand he’s holding up the old take out menu with the message written on it. Joyce looks confused and a little scared at our random appearance on her doorstep, but she doesn’t fight us when Hop pushes his way into the house. 

“Oh Jesus,” Hop grumbles while I let out a quiet ‘shit’ at all of the Christmas lights hanging in the Byers’ house. 

Hop and I get to quickly unscrew every christmas light, thank God he’s being a lot more calm about it here than at his own place. After what feels like hours Hop unscrews the last light bulb only to find that there were no bugs planted in the Byers’ house. The two of us let out a large sigh as we plop down right next to each other on Joyce’s couch. Hop’s knee rubbing up against mine is all I can think about as he explains what happened to him the night before. I do start to tune back into the conversation when Hop tells Joyce that she was right all along. 

I don’t think I have ever seen Joyce more happy than she is at this moment, at least two people believe her and now there’s undeniable proof, at least to the three of us, that Will is still alive. Joyce pulls me up from the couch and into a bone crushing hug, the hope and joy she's radiating is infectious.

CFTF tags: @letaliabane @ilovethatforyou @gay-forspace @ffantasylandd @simplyjazzy666 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @l0ve-0f-my-life @moonstarsandsongs @euphoniumpets @noshi-chan @astream-ofconsciousness @rentheanonymous @southsideacademythings @peter-beter-barker @tinynshykitten @captainstilinskis @krazykatkay456 @sara-stark-rogers

[taro-im]

when he throws his wedding ring on the floor

ANGST to fluff

warnings: language

oikawa x reader

“Seriously Tooru! You can’t just come home 2 in the fucking morning without any texts or calls to tell me your okay!” You said in the brink of tears yelling at your husband who just came home from a party drunk

“y/n what the fuck I just came home and your already bitching at me?” “W-what? Tooru I thought you were in a car accident you don’t want me to worry?! Even worse I thought you were dead!” You said yelling “enough y/n! Your so god damn annoying sometimes I need space from you and your whole family!” He said voice louder that you almost backed down “excuse me?” “Yeah that’s right y/n, your whole family and you are so god damn annoying, your father expects me to be working a normal office job, your mother always coming over uninvited without a phone call and most of all YOU always so damn annoying texting me during practice, calling me way too many times!-“ “Tooru-“ “NO YOU BETTER NOT CUT ME OFF Y/N” he said catching a breath glaring at you while your just in shock at what’s coming out of his mouth… “you know what I regret most y/n?” He said walking closer to you while you were taking a few steps back “come on tell me y/n what do you think I hate and despise the most” he said bitterly laughing “I-I don’t know Tooru!” You said crying “I regret moving back to Japan and marrying you” he said throwing his wedding ring on the kitchen floor… “yeah that’s it I finally said it!” He said massaging his temples while your just witnessing at what he just did… he threw the ring he made vows with you, he threw the ring him and you went through store to store to find the “perfect” one, he threw the ring that was a symbol of your two year marriage… “where are you going y/n too scared to hear the truth?” He said while you were walking away eyes wide open tears trickling down your face trying to control your breathing so you weren’t a sobbing mess, you went into the guest bedroom sitting on the floor painfully looking at your left ring finger seeing the diamond shining beautifully “I didn’t ask you to come back to Japan” You said in a broken sob muffling your cries so he couldn’t hear, you weren’t able to sleep that night replaying his words over and over again, your head playing with you thinking that your the one at fault but you were right… even when Oikawa started settling what he said in his thick skull he knew what he did was more than wrong…

now the next morning you woke up with the most puffiest eyes you’ve had, you didn’t have the energy of dressing up or taking a shower and going to work but you had to, and you remember Oikawa and you go to your jobs at the same time in the morning, “hey yumi im going to be 30 minutes late sorry” you said clearing your voice so you didn’t sound like you were crying “of course y/n don’t worry I’ll cover for you girly” she said then you hanged up the phone, “babe- your going to be late” he said waking up next to nothing, maybe you already left for work till he heard some noise from a distance “y/n… you there?” He said going towards the second bedroom only for him to hear the noice stop “y/n your going to be late if you stay here longer…” “y/n?” He said sitting by the doorway trying to hear what’s happening “I’m going to go to practice but remember to go to work… love you” he said heart slightly throbbing, regretting what he did last night… if he was being honest he did regret coming back to Japan but the part about marrying you? He would never regret it he loves everything about you and what he said last night he wish he could of shutted his mouth up and he most of all hated the fact he threw his wedding ring on the floor… he went into the kitchen and saw the ring at its exact same spot picking it up made him feel more guilty… you avoided your husband like a plague, eating takeout and leaving his order you chose for him on the kitchen table, waking up early to take a shower and head off to work, locking yourself in the guest bedroom during days he was home, till the second week of avoiding him you were cleaning the house and he sneaked up from behind you “hey love…” he said hugging you from behind “hm?” “What do you mean hm? Don’t you miss me” he said trying to lighten up the mood only for you to get out of his grasp “y/n wait!” He said grabbing your hand only to see your not wearing your wedding ring “why aren’t you wearing your ring baby?” He said heart slightly in pain “I was cleaning the house I didn’t want it to- scratch” you said coming up with a lie so you could get out of the room “y/n you can’t scratch a ring by cleaning” “can you let go of me now Tooru? I really need to clean the living room” “it’s already clean” “well can you please get out I feel uncomfortable” you said hand shaking “y/n… I didn’t mean to I love you so much” he said eyes watery “I know you didn’t mean it Tooru, just leave me alone for now?” “but y/n…” “what?” “I didn’t mean what I said last week, I love you so much, your the best thing to ever happen to me- I love your family and I don’t regret moving back” he said pulling you in a hug from behind “Tooru… you can’t lie to yourself, I can’t keep you here you need to go back to Argentina” you said holding in tears”what do you mean y/n?” “I mean it’s time for you to go, I can’t be the one ruining your dreams, you’ve been planning this since hjghschool I can’t keep you here” your voice cracked slightly tears trickling down both of your faces “I’m already happy here”he said guilty “I know your lying Tooru… let’s have a little break from each other we both know we can’t be holding each other down from our separate d-dreams” you said holding in your sob while he was crying into your back “y-you can’t say that , do you know how much I love you?” He said sniffling turning you his way so you could look the brunette in his teary eyes “I know Tooru but we can’t be doing this to each other” you said crying in his chest “y/n… I’m really sorry you know that? I love you” he said kissing your forehead “I love you too you idiot” you said hitting his chest crying harder…

“I’ll see you later Tooru” you said holding in your tears and sad voice seeing off your husband at the airport… “bye love, I’ll call you when I’m in the airplane” he said walking towards you giving you a long hug “yeah… bye Tooru have a safe trip” you said hugging him tighter “you know you should write me letters since we’re going to be over a thousand miles apart” you said trying to lighten the mood kissing his forehead “yeah I’ll do that y/n…” “well good bye” you said getting out of his embrace now waving him goodbye…

4 years later:

“He should be here soon” Iwaizumi said eyebrows furrowed looking at his phone for the time “yeah he should be here already” you said anxious looking at your makeup to see if it looked smudge only to feel calloused hands covering your eyes “guess who” the familiar voice but now deeper said almost laughing “who’s this? I don’t know who you are” you said jokingly “you don’t remember your husband?” He said turning you his way cupping your face “Tooru!” You said jumping into his arms giving him a kiss on the cheek “I miss you y/n” he said in a big smile can’t helping but grinning like an idiot “I miss you too” you said touching his face looking at the man you haven’t seen in person for a long time “Iwa did you miss me?” He said hugging you by the waist coming forward “no of course not idiot now come on we’re going to be late” he said laughing “I know you missed me! Do you think you can hold my luggage? Ya know that flight was so long” he said teasing “shut up shittykawa” he said hitting his back “again with the names iwa?!”