#they both go through the stages of grief when they realize that they love eachother before settling on gay panick

[bi-pisces07]

Kitty at Puss

[loverforstrangerthingsfics]

The stages of dating ...... eddie munson[This is long]

[ I just think the song matches the vibe so I suggest listening ]

The meeting

:you had met eddie through the party because you were just like eleven but older and you understood the world more than her

:you had the same story plot as el because you escaped together

: you guys together were unstoppable so while you stay in Hawkins while the byers were in California you stayed with the wheelers

:befor you meet eddie you had a crush on Steve so it took a while for him to peek your liking

:people thought dnd was weird and you were one of the people

:so when most of the party met him you met him to

:so when lucas was busy with basketball mike ran to you so you can fill in

:[Mike out of breath] ed-eddie I found your sub for dnd

:"sup I'm y/n .... let's cut to the chase you obviously need me sooo in return I want my homework done for the rest of the week by you munson because I am supposed to be with nacy right know stuffing my face and binge watching horror movies so do I have my self a deal"?

Eddie:every day beside friday I have stuff to do

Yn: so deal ?

Him:.....deal

:it only took you a few minutes to learn because you scammed through your powers and got any information about dnd there is

:and ofcorse you won the game and that impressed him

The asking out

:he was formal ,came to you because you were friends so he wasn't so scared to ask you out

:so eddie asked you at lunch

"So y/n what about you and me Sunday at the movies "

Y/n:eddie who the fuck goes out on Sunday that's me day how about this Friday?

"Of course babe"

"Were not there yet munson "

:the date went great you both ate till you couldn't and laughed at the stupid movie that played

The dating

:hanging out in his trailer

: playing dnd together

:stealing his clothes

:getting a hell fire shirt

:you got to spend more time with Dustin and the boys and you got more closer to Erica

:using your powers for easy stuff

"Ed's I just read there mind and there definitely talking about us"

"Those ass holes"

:binge eating

:being lazy

:going to school and rocking your grades [with cheating of course]

:random drives at night and I love yous

:doing everything together

:him teaching you how to play guitar

:modeling for eachother

:showing him your powers

:random singing matches

:making mistakes for eachother

:laughing at each other

:being confident within eachother

Pictures and videos of you guys

You telling him his hair isn't all that

You being drunk at 2 in the morning and saying this

Playing a game of dnd

You after using your powers [Imagine your race and gender]

Id like to add one more stage .... grief

:you always thought why not you why did I not use my powers to save him then you realize el , Mike, hopper, max, Lucas, all of them... they all need you alive well.. you needed your eddie alive you were not even living when he dead

:the guilt took over you, you changed you weren't the same withought him

:you did the best you could for him trying to live life the way he would

:people say sooner or later it gets better it didn't kinda

:but your family and the people around you made life worth living again

:you would visit his grave and play the guitar for him

:you would tell him all the good and bad news

"Yeah and then they walked away like nothing happened "

: u tried to move on really

:but you did move on ... to steve

: you always felt bad like you shouldn't move on but then you would remember

A month ago...

"Hey y/n what would happen if you passed like would you want me to move on "

I think it depends..... on the person and how much you loved them I would want you to because you deserve happiness like I do so yes I would want you to because I would never want to see you hurt and not happy I'm not saying you have to or need to but you would know when the time is right

"Yeah I guess so y/n I would want you to move on to and if you do I hope they treat you good you deserve happiness so I would want you to move on "

And that's why I love you

"Come here gimme a kiss "

End of flashback

:know you remember why you loved

The " freak" eddie munson

"All my tears have been used up......... on another love "

And that is the start of the stages series

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 13/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

~~~~

Just as they had predicted, it really wasn’t easy.

Billy spent a lot of time in his first few months back constantly breaking down. Everything from his basic needs, where he couldn’t hold down any foods, the sunlight was painful, and wheeling around a damn thirty pound cart just to breathe was just inconvenient, to his social life, where he was dealing with the stigma of being zombie boy 2.0, and the harsh realization that he had killed his own best friend, but also that he had to cope with knowing his abusive father had mourned him, was now thrown off, and after living so long on the other side with no way, or not time really, to cope, he was lost in the real world.

When anything went wrong or made him upset he’d just shut down and cry, leaving it up to whoever’s care he was in at that time, be it his family, the one he was born into or the one that he chose, or his therapist, to figure out how to help. He always felt stupid, like some bratty toddler throwing tantrums over not getting his way instead of like the survivor he was.

Like somehow he could fight dozens of interdimensional monsters twice as big as he is, but he couldn’t handle a little bit of stress or discomfort.

Thankfully, with a lot of reassurance and promises under their breath, they were able to move past that stage of recovery rather quickly, and the hardest part from there was just deciding what to do with their lives next.

Before the world ended, Billy was ready to study sports medicine at SCU in the fall, and Steve was thinking about following him out west to get his masters in teaching. That’s of course not what happened, nor is it going to work out at this rate, at least not until Billy gets the clearance to breathe on his own, so it’s back to the drawing board, deciding between the only two choices they really have.

Either they were going to head back towards Cali anyways and just wait to start the rest of their lives there, or they would stay in Hawkins and set up while Billy recovered. The choice was obvious to both of them.

After all that had happened, all that time that had been lost, the unnecessary grief they had all suffered, there was no way they could leave now, ditching to California would only put distance between them and the people they cared about, while the memories, the nightmares, and scars would always follow them wherever they went.

So they start looking for places in Hawkins, which turns out to be a lot goddamn harder than they thought it would be.

A house won’t fit into their budget, though even if they did, they’re pretty sure that two guys in a town like Hawkins wouldn’t have been able to buy a house together, so they look for apartments instead, so they can file as roommates. That’s no easier, because everywhere they try to go is either roach infested, or full of smokers and pets, and the very last thing Billy needs to get better is a bunch of their neighbors giving him asthma attacks on the daily.

John Harrington made it very clear that no rapscallion punks would be staying under his roof, and Billy himself had decided that, despite Neil Hargrove’s turnaround, he was never going to let Steve anywhere near the man, especially not after they were outed to him. Right now, he could walk away with his peace of mind and at least a smidgeon of respect for his father. He wasn’t willing to jeopardize that, or Steve’s safety just to move them into a house full of bad memories.

Close to deciding that maybe their only choice was to book it after all, Robin approaches them with an offer. She says she’s going to be commuting to Ivy Tech for school, and since she won’t be home most of the day anyways and Steve technically already has a room there, that they’re free to move into her apartment.

If it wasn't for their circumstances, they’d never have taken her up on that offer, but seeing as they don’t have anywhere else really to go, they decide to accept, but only if she agrees to let Steve pay part of her tuition at least.

Billy has a hard time agreeing to that, Robin to him a reminder of Heather, and Heather a reminder of what he did, but eventually they have a talk about it, and they both cry, but things turn out okay in the end between the two of them.

So by spring of the next year, they have their things packed and a list of days to expect a phone call from Max, and they’re out of their respective homes, dragging into Rob’s place what few possessions they had to call their own.

Billy isn’t allowed to lift more than fifteen pounds yet for fear of collapsing a lung, so his job is mainly to point to where he wants things and change his mind so Steve has to do all the hard work, the both of them all light and laughing at themselves, giggling like their younger counterparts until their newly allotted room is at least semi presentable.

They still have a long way to go, in their decoration skills yes, but also in the recovery aspect, both physically and mentally. But for now, they get to be happy, and appreciate what they have: eachother, a newfound sense of security, and a boundless love that could stand the trials of grief and separation, and would definitely be able to make it through the unknown that lied ahead.

Billy is alive. And Steve is whole once again.

[justpeachythoughts0916]

Grieving & My Grieving Journey...So Far...

February 2nd, 2021: When I was growing up the only grief I truly felt was the loss of grandparents and pets. The only grief I experienced firsthand all made sense to me, people who followed the order of life you get older, you get sicker, and then die.  At that point and in those instances it wasn't hard for me to utilize logic and reason to understand their lives were lived and their time here had expired.

In high school I witnessed the school, my friends, and my classmates just in shambles after two boys died in two separate car accidents. These deaths caused me to feel an overwhelming amount of empathy and sympathy for my sad friends, but I wasn't close enough to these two to grieve really. I felt bad for everyone feeling so bad and knew a generic "I'm sorry" simply would not suffice.  I still knew there was nothing on this planet that I could say or do to heal that wound. I knew there was no making sense of these tragic deaths. Two happy, smiling, kind, young souls were gone. There is no making that okay.

Since high school this area is cursed with so many young deaths. We've lost people to suicides, accidents, overdoses, the list goes on. Still, I remained in the helpful, supportive friend role. I was not the one with my world upside down, and truthfully at the time I was grateful. Watching people so sad from grieving was heart breaking enough.

When I was 20 and pregnant with my first son we had a gender reveal party, we were ecstatic, my family never had boys. We had people stay the night in a tent in my mom's backyard because we in no way wanted anyone to drive home drunk. My friends at the time partied until morning, then all four went to sleep in a little four person tent.

I woke up at tenish, my mom made French toast for breakfast for everyone, then left for a matinee with her friend. One by one my hungover friends started coming in for breakfast. My son's soon to be God Father came in and said "Nate snored so loud, he shook my pillow" I replied, "He was cocked, and passed out" and giggled at the thought of their shenanigans. My step-dad and sister and his best friend were just watching the Sunday Giants game, casually cracking their first beer around noon. 

My friends were about ready to go, trying to figure out how to make the six people fit in a five person car. Nate wasn't up yet, not shocked, it was only 1:00 pm. He was sleeping on his tummy, using his arm as a pillow. I started to wake him up saying "Nate...Nate...Nate..." giggly and patient. I tickled his feet and he didn't move, he was just sleeping heavy. "Nate...Nate...Nate..." I pushed my fingertips into the soles of his feet and they stayed. I instantly said "He's dehydrated, and retaining fluid, get him water." Still not panicking...I stared at his back looking for breath movement before I thought "I'll just yank him by the ankles, that'd wake anyone up." So, I did just that...nothing. I went to look at him and saw purple skin through his red hairline and ran to get an adultier adult, my step-dad.

I ran into the house, where they were all watching a seemingly compelling play during the game, bursted in and yelled "Nate's blue, he won't wake up, I don't think he's breathing!" I've never seen my 6' 8" step-dad move so fast. He ran outside, ducked in and looked in the tent for about .1 seconds before he said "Steph, you need to call 911 now!" at 1:06 pm I picked up Nate's phone (it was the closest in reach) and tried to give a bunch of information to a dispatcher. I made little to no sense, because my step-dad didn't tell me why I was calling 911, combined with anxiety, I wasn't able to give them my mom's address. My younger sister tried to take the phone from me but the dispatcher asked "Can anyone there do CPR?" We all could, why didn't I think of that? I handed the phone off to my sister, and ran back to my step-dad and all my friends just shaking their heads and said "WE CAN DO CPR!" My step-dad as calmly and level as he could said "We can't save him, Steph, he's gone."

My. Soul. Left. My. Body.

My legs just stopped working.

Draped in my step-dads arms.

He's 6' 8" standing next to him I'm chest height.

I was down to his stomach.

Sobbing.

Drooling.

Quickly I ran away from his embrace screaming "NO. NO. NO. NO", into the road screaming up it "WHATS TAKING THEM SO LONG?!"

In that instant for the first time, it was me. I was the one with the dead best friend. Begging cops "Let me go with you to his Mom, her whole world is upside down here, and you're gonna tell her that with a straight face, just take me to tell her." Of course, I was informed protocol exists, and that couldn't happen. The second Nate's death hit social media I was the one flooded with "Oh my god, what happened?" "I'm so sorry" "My condolences" blah blah fucking blah.

My best friend's heart stopped to due to a lethal combination of Xanax and alcohol. Nothing about life or death made sense anymore. My best friend died from partying too hard? How do you make sense of that? When we all went to his services we stood in a circle together. Everyone stared, everyone, we were the last ones with him. We were trying to process what was about to happen at the viewing and we heard "That's them." The services were a nightmare. My friend Bryan and I were first to walk in, and the second we saw his bright red hair in that white casket we both couldn't stand. We stopped the line, and I sobbed and said "We can't do this." We went in the room with his twin sister and mom, we offered his sister his aviator sunglasses that were left in the tent, and we offered his mom to go to her favorite local ice cream parlor on Mothers Day every year, a tradition Nate followed with her. I asked Nate's mom permission to name my son Nathan when we went to see her the day after he died, so I tucked an ultrasound of his namesake in his pocket, and a pack of cigarettes with his lucky flipped. We stayed through the whole viewing, saw all those sad broken faces, got all the sad and sorry hugs, at the end we all walked up together I kissed his forehead, and we left.

I spent the first threeish years of my new life without Nate crying occasionally or at appropriate times, like when I gave birth to my Nathan. The rest of the time I kinda carried on like mentally him and I were taking a break from eachother, like I myself was choosing not to message or call. I got into therapy after hearing countless "You need helps" from family and friends. In therapy, I was cautioned that this event gave me Complex PTSD and Complex Grieving. Still, I just kept going with the flashbacks, nightmares, and the stages of grief over and over. Three years in, I had a startling realization using a butt fuck of psychedelics of "Oh my God, my person is gone, I can't get him back, we can't talk, and that really happened." Instantly, I was grieving his death like new again. Oh no. I had less than understanding from most people. Most people honestly seemed perplexed how it could feel so fresh after "so many years" *eyeroll to my spine*. Solely because me being pained and honest with it is/was uncomfortable. OOOF.

I knew Nate taught me so much in his life and in his death. He also was the first to teach me how to help people in early grief, because of how many conversations I had that were text book This Is Not What You Say To Someone Grieving. Then again, we're all different.

Just before the 4 year mark with Nate's death, death found me again and again, it followed the people I loved. My honest theory is I saw death up close and personal, I know what that type of empty feels like, I was the one sobbing pounding the ground, mad at the world, so I noticed the devastation easier. I became the support system for my grieving friends, all by just being honest from the get, "Welcome to the club you don't want to be in, you still have to try to eat, you're never gonna be the same and there is nothing you can say to me that sounds crazy coming from the girl who has screamed in the cemetery at 2:00 AM "OVER A FUCKING XANAX?!" and unfortunately this club doesn't come with t-shirts it comes with trauma." It's simple to me, really. Act like they have a cancer on their brain with out being so in-your-face-it-feels-fake. Easy. I've helped countless freshly grieving people in the years after Nate's death.

  In October of 2020 I was talking to Zack, my middle school best friend on the phone, I needed help. He couldn't help me, as he was in legal trouble and needed to lay low. We caught up for a while, aside from what I needed help with. At one point he said "I wish Squid was here, he would've been down in a heartbeat." Squid passed in February of 2020. We talked at length about being more careful with ourselves, the worries we had about our other friends, and what grieving is like. Then he said, "I don't know how much closer death can get to me than Squid, he was my boy, it broke me." I just said  "I miss that boy so much, he was so warm." Zack went on to say "I don't wanna know which one of us is gonna go first, I don't wanna be the one left." We gave eachother all of our love, and hung up.

  On November 19th, 2020 Zack and another friend of ours from middle school, Alex, were headed home from Alex's band practice late at night. Alex was driving when he lost control of the vehicle. They both died on impact, together. It killed me. They died just riding home? The messages flooded in again. "I'm so sorry" "If you need anything, I'm here" as disingenuous as you could be really be. Again, I'm the one with the dead friends. Feeling emptiness in my finger tips. I hated everything, again.

  "If everything happens for a reason, than what the fuck?"

"Why them? Why me?"

Despair

When I laid in my boyfriend's bed staring at where the white ceiling met the lavender walls with silent tears streaming down my face I felt empty in my bones. I went outside, lit a cigarette, and called my soul brother, Alec. Al is traditionally a goof ball, but in sad times he has a way with comforting people. He's an absolute doll. I knew I needed to hear his voice and his words. When we spoke I cried and said all the awful initial thoughts, "How am I the one left? I didn't wanna do that. What do I do?" After I got those thoughts out we had a talk that would forever change my views on loss and grief. He said "All of these losses teach us something. Losing Squid taught me that I needed, wanted, and could have a healthy supportive friendship with Alison (his ex-wife, my best friend)." Alison drove up from Georgia to support me, Alec, all of our people, and grieve herself with her people. The hug they shared outside of the funeral home looked cathartic on a soulful level to me. They were who eachother needed to have in that sad and vulnerable time, even after their separation. To that I said, "I still don't get the fucking point."

That's when Alec said something I'll never forget. First, he quoted Carl Sagan in Cosmos, "We're all just a blue dot." Made zero sense, as I had yet to read all of Cosmos, and Alec already had (more than once). He then said, "People's love for you is eternal, regardless of when their physical being dies. Every lesson they taught someone will permanently imprint them, transferring person to person, generation to generation. Zack's love, Squid's Love, Alex's love, Nate's love, everyone's love is eternal as long as your soul learned things from them." I started crying hard. We gradually caught up and got ready to hang up and he said "Stephanie, you will have my love eternally, in this life and in the next, even if my physical being dies you will always have love from an Al"

  I had to process those words for weeks, thinking of every act of love, every admirable thing, every moment I witnessed that all my seemingly lost humans gave me, and what changed in me because of those moments. All of these souls filled up books in my mind, heart, and soul. They taught me how to be a happier better me, and they all loved me so much. These acts of love transferred onto my family, my friends, my kids, my relationship, hell, even strangers. Alec was right, my humans didn't die at all, and the more I looked the more I found glimpses of their love here, with me, no matter where they are. They literally cannot die, and there's no choice in the matter, it just happens.

I still have sad days and moments, but I know the saddest moments for me are also the most loving acts they gave me coming to surface...They are still with me to make those moments possible. You cannot change grief. It is a wild bull you just got onto, and you have to hold on tight and dig your spurs in for the rest of your life. The only thing that has calmed the immense pain I've felt was allowing these amazing humans to permanently imprint their best moments onto me. I'm forever grateful I had the privilege to be imprinted by so many angelic souls. All these seemingly small, miniscule moments created the most love in my soul. I'm here to learn, and I've been taught by the best of the best. Their deaths were not in vein, their deaths have all changed me. I sincerely hope this makes you consider how many souls have imprinted on you in life and in death, allowing seemingly impossible eternal love into your heart and soul.

XOXO

"I'm sure there ain't a Heaven, but that don't mean I don't like to picture you there. I bet you're bumming cigarettes off saints, and I'm sure you're still singing, but I'll bet that you're still just a bit out of key." Cigarettes and Saints by The Wonder Years

Dedicated to:

Nathan E. Osgood Sami Jo Colson Zaccaria "Squid" Crankshaw Ally LaMont Ryan Burton Zack Luck & Alexander Simon

I'll miss you everyday for the rest of my life, and will carry your eternal love wherever I may go.

Finally, thank you, to the first responders of Mayfield, NY that were first on scene when Nate passed away on September 20th, 2015

[oleanderblume]

Unrelated but OMYGOD. My clown series reached 1k reads on wattpad.

Which isn't super awesome because its only due to the sheer quantity of chapters I have but I need to rave and spoil it cause I'm super excited about what I'm planning and no one i care to tell gives a shit so I'm dumping it into the void that is tumblr.

So. Im writing a book series called Caring For Your Clown. Its about this trans kid named Oliver and he is sort of an asshole.

Well not sort of, he is an asshole. But a RELATABLE asshole.

The story sort of drops you in 6 months after the mysterious and tragic (and traumatic) death of his mother Marie, who was a scientist alongside her husband and Oliver's step father Jon at a lab that specializes in physics mainly.

They were working on a machine with an unstable particle that caused a..tear so to speak, in the fabric of dimensional space and she got torn into tiny little bits. :3

But apparently before this occurred, Marie was in contact with an alien race called clowns 🤡 (really they are interdimensional traveling amoebas that take the shape of humanoid clowns lol)

One of which pops up in Oliver's life completely unexpectedly for no foreseeable reason and her name is Dindet and she is absolutely precious.

Basically its a saga and each book ranges in about 30k to 50k words. The first book centers around Oliver learning about this weird alien houseguest and also the immediate fallout of the death of his mom because surprise surprise! His biological dad who is a terrible abusive fucktard rolls back into his life with the intent to take custody of Oliver and that is no good!

The entire arch Oliver's goes through is literally the title of the series. Basically learning to be caring and compassionate while ALSO dealing with grief and interdimensional shenanigans.

One of the things I found really fun (it was unintentionally done but now I like it so its intentional now.) Is that each book roughly represents the 5 stages of grief.

As the first one is anger. Oliver is mostly passed the fuck off that this dumb alien clown sauntered into his life and thought it would be neat to CARE about him like he was a PERSON with FEELINGS. Irrationally angry, because he blames her for the loss of his mom (i mean so does his dad who goes through the stages of grief slightly slower than Oliver does) and uses her as a personal emotional punching bag until he realizes that SHE got his bio dad to concede his appeal for custody via literally stalking him and making him so paranoid that he was deemed an unfit parent >:3

All the while too, as the main focus is on the two characters of Oliver and Dindet, there is a background plot leading up to the second, third, and fourth (possibly up to 6 books) of the clown authorities looking for Dindet. And also the checkovs gun that is his neighbor.

The second book is mostly erring in the bargaining side of the coin for Oliver while Jon goes through his stage of anger. Oliver learns more about Dindet but doesn't quite trust her as she is clearly hiding information and KNOWS his mom. But she won't talk. Meanwhile, his neighbor working on a completely different project gets his hands on some clown matter and goes apeshit with it to build his energy machine.

We also learned more about the type of person Dindet is, which is naive and caring but also incredibly self destructive and reckless. By far a major people pleaser with huge self love issues. While Oliver is more of a "i don't give a shit what you think" though its more a facade he puts on to protect himself from rejection :/ he is far more comfortable in his own skin but external factors can make him freak out a little and he is terrible at talking to people.

It culminates when the project Jon solicited Dindet's assistance in is wreck by her own hands and Oliver's growth completely backtracks to the point that he finally manages to get our clown to leave (only for her to be clownknapped by his whole ass fucking neighbor to be used as the conduit to his energy machine)

And yeh, Ols almost immediately regrets his actions (though at first its more denial that she actually left) especially when he catches his neighbor using her as fuel for his machine to the point that all her fucking matter is completely burned away via electrical current! >:3

THEN Oliver gets to the depression arch >:3 (i haven't written this part yet so its up in the air atm)

Basically, with his mom dead and now the only person who could reasonably be considered his friend ALSO Basically dead, Ols falls into this really bad streak of just walking backward in his grief. Anger, denial, bargaining, the whole shebang. But THIS time the lab and the government AND the secret clown police are all in cahoots to cover up what happened at the lab and to do that they need to get rid of Ols and his dad to allow their plot to work. (Will be revealed later)

So throughout the first two books I've been alluding to the leader of the clowns via Dindet's ostensible paranoia and their name is Smile. They have underlings though and one is named Poppy. So the clowns get into the lab and convince Jon to send his son to a treatment facility for therapy under the thin veil that it will protect them from the repercussions of the machine. Oliver is not to upset about this though because he has been to therapy before from his past with his bio dad.

Except obviously the clowns don't want to actually help anyone. Their goal is to wear my boy down until he ready to die because- did I mention this was middle grade??

Anyways. This particular book I want to develop my potential romance between Douglass (Oliver's kid neighbor) and Ols and also deconstruct Oliver's personality via flashbacks that parallel the events in the story so we understand why he reacts the way he does to things and also i think it would be neat that the clowns technically succeed in their plan to draw out Dindet the wanted criminal by using the person she cares most about against her. By making him want to die!!

Then! For the next book, I'm planning on having more clown infiltration, more bonding between my children and romance between my boys because oooohhh boy am I gonna have fun tearing everyone apart when the real fucking deal Smile shows up and fucks shit up. Smile is my main villian and a veru fun and manipulative one at that. She uses Oliver to get to Dindet and eventually catches the both of them, revealing clowns to the entire world right before snatching them back to the home base the Cornucopia.

This is where we learn all the information we have been wanting and building up to about Dindet >:3

She is a criminal because she has Essentially tied a doomed universe to the Cornucopia in a never ending time loop because she is so heckin big that every time that universe is torn apart, she jumps back in time and DIES in order to recreate it. (She's the big bang yo)

That isn't the only reason though. Oliver comes to learn that his mom was FRIENDS with Smile. And Smile was the one who tore her apart in the machine scattering her subconscious in the literally timeless Cornucopia (time doesn't exist there so aging, death, anything like that is completely halted) and MARIE who has been half alive and omnipotent this whole fucking time has been trapped in the Cornucopia unable to see her family or child but fully able to see a know the infinitesimal inevitability of the destruction of his universe. So what does she do? She PULLS DINDET PUT OF THE ABYSS AND TELLS HER TO GO BE FRIENDS WITH HER KID TO KEEP THE TIME LOOP GOING.

And this has happened before. Like this book series is literally ONE (1) version of events that have been stacking up on top of eachother for millenia. The reason Dindet shows up in the first place is because she can partially see these past loops and the remnants of her love for Oliver keeps her coming back YO.

But while all this lovely information is being shared, Dindet is in clown jail and Oliver is treated as a pet to Smile. He tries to stage a break out and fails and what does Smile do? She turns him into a got damn monkey!

And uses him as literal fucking bait to a starving Dindet in order to justify her sentence (which is obviously death)

It almost works too, if it weren't for the fact that these two kids are BEST FRIENDS NOW and would legit die AND kill for eachother, Dindet pushes Oliver out of the Cornucopia (he is still a monkey boy btw) into his universe which inadvertently scatters him.

(A human person can enter the Cornucopia but if they leave, their molecular structure will destabilize in a slow and painful way until they literally are nothing left so that sucks)

This is where I want the next book to start tbh. Now back at home without his friend, as. A. Monkey. Oliver find that his entire home town is under lock down and strict control by the clowns who have now infiltrated the government and are putting plans forth to rebuild the SAME MACHINE his dad and Dindet built to bring about the destruction of the universe. (They want to do this because if they prevent Dindet from jumping back in time, they can end the time loop and get on with their lives)

So ols has to essemble a rag tag crew of Douglass and some other classmates and figure out that all the goop floating around belongs to Dindet (bruh. She is the size of the universe like. There is a lot of her to go around) and they can technically use it as gateways into other dimensions to gather an arsenal of GIANT BABY ANIMALS AND SQUIRREL BIRD CATS AND DRAWN TO LIFE ANYTHINGS so they can try to 1. Bring back our clown gal who is the key to fixing this and 2. Take on the now heavily fortified lab in order to get Olivers and Douglass's dads back.

All the while my boy is slowly dying >:3

Eventually, Oliver finds a way to get Dindet back but its at a cost :/ he tricks Smile into turning our clown organic to prevent her from being able to control any of her matter whatsoever and the cost of it is that Smile is VERY bad at making humans, so she basically traps Dindet in a catatonic meat sack that doesn't have half the organs it needs to function properly :/

To make her not be organic anymore they gotta uh..kill the tumor that is an organic half body (which yes, does have nerve endings) which eventually allows Dindet to be 100% clown again.

They break into the lab, but its basically too late. Reality is fractured and the multiverse is imploding in on itself and in the midst of all of this, Ols and Dindet are careening through the vacuum of an entirely empty space, dying of starvation and scattering and the only option left is to jump back in time to start the loop over again.

It is heartfelt and it is good and pure and the last moments they share together perfectly bring this loop together because in the VERY FIRST BOOK Oliver asks why Dindet came and she says "you asked me to."

And their last moments together he asks her to come back for him. Like I CANNOT yall!!

But that isn't the end. Yet.

The real end is after they die and the universe begins and a single hand pushes through the stars and pulls out a little orange bean. And it's Marie, pulling Dindet put of the Abyss this universe that is so intrinsically tied to the Cornucopia that it literally creates all the fucking clowns.

Its not supposed to be destroyed. And the reason eveeything falls into place so perfectly and things always go the same way is because ita already been seen and already been narrated. By Marie.

The WHOLE ASS SERIES IS IN THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT BUT ITS ACTUALLY NOT. Its first person. Narrated by Marie.

Dindet knows Marie because she pulled her out of the Cornucopia. Clowns exist because Dindet was told by Oliver that she was and looked like a clown. The entire ass UNIVERSE exists because Oliver and Dindet are the fucking building blocks of life.

All of Olivers character actions and growth and eventual love (platonic) for Dindet shape their futures and all of it started because a mom was so concerned and guilty about leaving her kid in such a time of need that she would rather start the world over than see him suffer.

So..themes.

Throughout the series there are heavy HEAVY parallels between Dindet and Marie (partly because Dindet is a parrot and almost all her actions and reactions mimmick things that she has seen and the first person she met who wasn't out to kill her was Marie) but also because Dindet is the conduit through which Marie vicariously lives out the rest of Oliver's fleeting life with him.

There is even a point where Oliver genuinely questions whether or not Dindet actually IS his mom (she isn't obviously)

One of the themes I really love about this series is that compassion, unconditional love and care is deserving to even the most obstinant. Oliver isn't easy to love. He actively makes it very hard for anyone who could be a peer (even his own dad sometimes) to care about him. He constantly pushes people away to safeguard himself from potential harm and it takes three fucking books ROUGHLY 200,000 words to get this boy to understand what unconditional love can do.

How it can help with the grieving process, and help you become a more compassionate person toward others.

And also how your actions affect others!!

Like i said, Dindet is a parrot, she can read your mind (if she wanted to) but what she sees she incorporates into her own thoughts and as a reflection, Olivers harsh words and actions, even the most simple kind are recorded and even amplified. He is MEAN to Dindet. He makes fun of her often and gets angry with her and calls her stupid and she internalizes that immediately and it has an immediate affect on how she views herself. Oliver doesn't even think of this as something that happens until much later in the story! And gradually he grows past it and becomes more considerate and affirming toward Dindet and Douglass as a result.

And the way things matter. Oh. Every little detail matters in this story up to seemingly inconsequential continuity errors! Foreshadowing is everywhere from the first fucking sentence to the last because the things the characters do and say to eachother are simultaneously current and in the past all at once and no one knows which is which.

Someone got hurt? There are consequences, even unforseen ones. Dindet loses her hat. It is the most precious thing she owns and is a huge comfort item for her. Oliver asked where she got it? A friend gave it to her.

OLIVER MAKES HER A NEW HAT AFTER SHE LOSES IT. He is the FRIEND that gave it to her.

Almost everything in this story has parallels and consequences and twists and turns and outcomes that are wildly unpredictable (up until now because I've just spoiled the entire fucking plot but who cares!!)

Like...this is my baby. I care SO MUCH about this story and the characters in it that when I think about certain scenes I legitimately start crying.

I can't wait to publish the first book yall. I'm planning on publishing it either through a publisher or self publish, and maybe make a comic even? Idk. I just i really think people would like my dumb absurd story about clowns and I wish i could just spout about it 24/7...it breaks my heart that no one will listen.

[notepadnotes]

A Tale That Time Concealed

Chapter 12, Home.

Moment of utter weakness I took on the 48 hour wait. Knowing, there would be a sense of regret in doing so. Hours had already been spent, detouring and breaking down the mental holds she had once en locked him with. This was different. This time it was different. Yes before attacks like this have happened in the past. No one would argue differently. But this attack. This attack, was different. This was one of the five major attacks.

But I digress, allow me to diverge a bit. Deidra. After that second attack. There was many years of waiting. Rebuilding. A walking away from what would be know as finding love. Unfortunately, this was not entirely the case. For I still accepted what every fragments of love were tossed my way. It’s unfortunate because it’s caused me to allow two more attacks in. Needlessly.

This most recent attack could have been avoided. But her selfish man destroying narcissistic personality. Allowed her to wait in disguise. For years. Allowing her to collect data. She had him fully convinced. That he too could find a way to love this person, in the same way she was portraying to love him. He knew exactly who she was. at least towards the men she played.

Again fully convinced he was this would be different. Unlike past attacks, where although similar in nature. He had no desire for her. His only main focus was getting back on his feet and past this depression which had almost killed him many times over the last year alone.

But she had other intentions, and set a plan in motion. With their short rise and ever deeper fall. His depression came back full force. His darker persona was back. It was something different. There was a weakened shell of what used to be himself. Numb and confused. Always so confused and utterly without joy as well as highly abusive. Friends and family would address his weight loss and sudden character change. Dismissively not addressing questions. This one was no longer capable of saying what he was feeling because he was always wrong.

There was also this new persona. Could not let anything go. And through suppression of truth. Half could only repeat her lies. The other couldn’t let his experiences and feelings be altered with untruths. Divided he was. The depression knew this. Used it. Plans had been thought. Actions were being taken. For months the two internally fought. It was coming down to this.

Many times in the past, he’s gotten himself into some seriously stupid situations. But they were always the same. Consistent. He was still himself. This time he wasn’t. Her words had push him to physically harming himself again, now to the point surgery would be required. Financially he was in a rut stuck in a motel with no options. His morals destroyed as year long court case and jail time was on him. Mentally. Finally he was gone. Mummified and drained of all reason to live. Her control was absolute. He was finally her toy. Years invested and planning paid off.

Until something happened. Only a couple drops, at first. Then a light trickle. She had sensed her victory. She begun putting less thought, and effort into the stories she was spinning. The victory was hers. She had no need to try. This newly made toy would sit and wait where it’s told, to be played with once again when she got bored of her newwer project. He had seen this cycle of hers for as long as he knew her. As that trickle persisted, it carved away layers and layers of compounded lies. Without thought. Her inconsistent stories started to rip eachother apart.

As always he waited. At first. Conflicted. Thinking that maybe some how he was wrong. For not pretending to see what she claimed she saw. Dispute the physical evdience she her self had given him. But the divided persona wouldn’t allow him to crawl back once again. Not with so many of her lies being exposed. Not with the muddy waters becoming clear.

Then the day came. Months delayed but it had finally came. The day. Was moving day. Not once did she try. Disappointed as he was. The persona couldn’t contain his glee. This was the final day. Final chance to slither her way back in. Fate was back on their side.

A couple days past, and he was sitting on the eve of his father’s passing. They began to bicker back and fourth. If they made the right choices. The persona was gettin frustrated at how foolishly he was hanging onto what he felt was love. Tires of arguing with the shell of a man. The persona gave in and allowed him to check up on her.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All the shells arguments, pointless defenses. Wasted hopes. It was all for nothing. The persona had been right all along. Deep down the shell always knew. But would never allow himself to admit it. Now, seeing with their own eyes nothing. Knowing the importance of the day for not just himselfs but her as well. The persona had won. He was done.

The persona sat back in blissful glee as he watched the shell systematically, remove all traces of her from his life and made it impossible to contact them again. This had never been done before. Ever. Both the shell and persona were shocked by this. One was upset while the other was happy sure. But both still shared that sense of shock. All that was really left was collecting his belongings. He knew not only couldn’t. But had no desire to do it himself. So a friend reached out, made arrangements and a few days later we were in possession of our belongings once again.

No more was his belongings scattered around cities. Or being disposed of. He had all of it. Most recently. Which excited him the most. Was his trunk of memories. An entire history of him. Minus some books of poems as previously mentioned. They began going through it all from Aberdeen where this story started and right up until a few months back. This was going to help them remember who he was. At least major memories and events. As the shell and persona read over their thoughts and feelings throughout the past 20 years. They both saw how interconnected each section of their lives were. They saw the underlying story two decades in the making.

Upon completion, they noticed how shaky the camels legs had gotten. All the weight of everything this last year had finally started to crack. The seduction, the lies, the love, the engagement, the fights, zero understanding, abuse. Every good and bad moment was so intertwined with each other. They could no longer distinguished between fact or fiction within her web of indoctrination. In the shells moment of weaknesses. He took off the fail safes, his only current means to limits any and all contact. He took them off, and typed in her name.

What he saw brought out a very clear emotion in them. They were by no means shocked, or angry. The shell wasn’t in denial over this or even trying to bargain with the persona. They saw she was reaching out. Perhaps when they sent another to collect his belongings, She realized they were not as broken as she had believed. She realized she had lost her control. Their depression, at least regarding this current problem, was no more. They read each of the different casts, and were content that the shells idea to test the situation had failed in the way he had hoped. The shell was for once genuinely happy the persona had been correct.

Each lure different in tone. Each lure baited differently. Desperately pushing buttons, trying for a reaction to gain any sort of entry back into their lives. As one cast would fail, another would be quickly baited with another button and tossed right back out. Watching these weak attempts gave both the shell and persona their final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Acceptance they were never meant to relinquish his desires to fulfill someone else fantasy. The acceptance that this was the end of a much greater cycle in their life. Acceptance, That everything, was over. As the camels back broke, The knees of the shell gave way and he fell. Years of hollowing himself out for the ideas some others perfection. The shell had all but given every aspect of it self to the persona. What little blood, which was keeping the shell alive had finally been drained and leached away from this last factious love. As his knees made contact with the ground below him, They shattered. Causing ripples of cracks to race up from the legs, across his torso and finally merging at the top of his head. Like striking a fence during a ice storm, fragments shattered off, crashing to the ground.

Something had happened. He could feel it. Slowly he got up. Very curious to this new feeling, or sensation rather he was feeling. Deciding its always best to creative thinking after a joint. He gets ready, grabs his keys, and headed out to his spot on the deck.

His mind was racing. So many ideas, new plans, a goal. He was overjoyed as his thumbs hastily type out each thought as it entered his mind. Finally. The unconnected enso had completed its cycle and was diverging into another cycle. Finishing his smoke he pulls out his keys to unlock the door. A smile creeps across his face. He loves the fob to his new place. He walks past a kitchen, his smile deepens. Life was good for him. Life was really good. He then unlocks his door and walks into his room.

Still smiling, he walks over to his desk. Three buttons later his computer, speakers and light turn on. He then closes his door and hangs his coat up, before turning and flipping the switch on the kettle. As the water starts to heat up and slowly begin to boil. He looks around his room, At all his little accents that were placed around the room. Little touches he had made to this space which was now his. It hit him all at once. This was it. What he had been searching for blindly for years. He, was home. His home. Finally after decades, He had found a place he could call home. At place he could be himself, and not what others had expected or demanded him to be. Which he had previously submitted to. To be who he truly is. Unmasked by the broken selves which had developed. “We’ve made it.” it said out loud breaking the silence of the room as well as his mind.

“We’ve made it.” He says again out loud. Again met with a heavy silence in the room. “hello” he thinks to him self. Once again, nothing but silence. “Weird” he thought, as a second passes, his eyes enlarge at the realization. He was alone. Alone with his thoughts. All of them. He was no longer within a battle of his own mind with conflicting thoughts regarding the direction of his life. They were gone. It was just he now. Frowning, he acknowledge that the shell had shattered when it hit the floor. Devoid of life, emotion and feelings. There was nothing left for it to reform its bonds to. The shattered fragments scattered across the floor in an incalculable pieces. They fade away and disappear. Never to feel empty again.

In that moment, the persona vanished. Relinquishing aid or hindrance in his life. Leaving behind all of the raw experiences, feelings and emotions they had used the persona to hide away. As joyful as he felt in this moment of transformation. There was a sense of despair in loosing his closest friend. The one who had been been there to save him from desperately horrible situations. Yet also the one to put his life in peril, more often then not. A sense of sadness still struck him knowing he would never talk to the persona again.

Now alone with his memories and dreams. He felt alive, with a purpose, a direction. He was hungry to not just experience life. But to finally live it. In just a couple weeks. He managed to not only crawl out of a hole he had been digging for years. He found a place to call home, a new future, and a overwhelming excitement for the upcoming adventure. One that he is in control of and the direction it is going. Finally he has found some solidarity. Within his mind, his soul, as well as his future. All he really needed, was a place that felt like home.