#this has NOT been a good day! in a really novel and unexpected way

[caterjunes]

guess who's been the subject of a hipaa breach at her doctor's office, which is also her workplace 🤡🙃🔪💀

[librarycards]

pls ignore this is its too weird or too much labor, but i was wondering if you maybe had any tips or resources for ppl who have creative desires like writing but brain fog and fatigue tends to get in the way?

i do! it may not work for you bc people have very random/unexpected ways of dealing with this, but it's *very* common and there is hope :) [i think a lot of this is applicable across form, but i'm using "writing" here because it's what i'm familiar with]

one way is to be strategic about timing: this includes thinking about when you're least foggy/have the most energy, and/or the most "downtime" where there isn't anything in particular you need to do. many people wake up early so that they have alone time before their responsibilities. some people stay up late to write. i tend to do my daily writing (which I elucidate on below) in the evenings, around 7-10pm. whatever works, works!

relatedly: scheduling/routine is, for me, critical. i think it is for a lot of creative ppl. I write every day, in multiple ways: i keep a journal - i've done this since i was like 12, so it's as ingrained as brushing my teeth and i don't really think about it - and also work on some aspect of my current longest project [so, for the last 4 years, it's been the aforementioned second novel; for the 4ish years before that, it was Failure to Comply. i write other stuff during the daytime, of course, because writing is also my job(s). but if you're looking to establish a consistent creative practice, you don't need to be aiming for a certain hour or word count.

Instead: Aim for consistency and progress. Not perfection, not a "muse," not magic. There is no shame in making something that doesn't seem good, or that you end up deleting. in this particular instance, "perfect is the enemy of good" is 10000% true, and i think especially applicable to people who already experience external + internalized ableist ideologies on a daily basis. your art, regardless of what it is, should be a space where you get to make mistakes, change your mind, and learn new things. it should be something you can come to when you're tired, unsure, confused, scared, etc, even if it means just keysmashing and then closing your notes app for the day.

for me, having a daily practice, regardless of anything, means embracing the days where i write only one word and then despair, as well as the days i write pages. when i feel most depressed, in a very clinicized sense, i try to move from "everything i make now is going to be shitty :(" to "everything i make now is going to be shitty :)", not because i'm happy about it, but because....that's simply part of creating. everything is a bodily function. if you're not feeling good, maybe your poop will look weird. so too with writing. but you still do it. it can be mechanical. but it'll happen, and by doing it consistently, you give yourself the *opportunity* to locate insight hitherto buried, to have an idea creep up on your tiredself.

i guess in sum I'd say that the healthiest thing i ever did for my writing is something tantamount to body neutrality, which has also been an immensely positive addition to my set of frameworks for physical embodimindment. creative neutrality, i guess. this doesn't mean i don't tie my ego and personhood to work/productivity/quality. i mean, i totally do, and it sucks, but there we are. but it also means that i place that in a corner that does not touch my desire to chip away at something big, regularly. i make time every day to summon the urgency of whatever i'm working on, not because i'm proud of it at that moment, but because i want to give it another opportunity to give me something cool.

tl:dr: give yourself the gift of consistency and time, and don't be scared of making stuff that isn't good, or gets deleted, or doesn't make sense. write from wherever you want, physically, mentally, spiritually. give it the opportunity & even the expectation to happen and then work from there.

[coloursflyaway]

Good Enough

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.000

Read on AO3

So, Edwin is in love with him.

Edwin loves him, and Charles genuinely never even considered the possibility of this, of them, before.

It might be because, back when he was still alive, his dad would have beaten the notion right out of him, but then again, his dad has been wrong about most things in his life, so fuck him.

So, Edwin is in love with him.

It’s… quite flattering, actually. To think that Edwin, who is beautiful and intelligent and educated, who can recite his favourite Keats poem by heart just as easily as tell you his favourite Mozart aria (it’s Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen from Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Edwin told him that, years ago), who knows spells and can read ancient Aramaic, who is the kindest, most brilliant person Charles has ever known, would love him.

Now, Charles knows that he is easy enough on the eyes, good with words and people, and has one hell of a swing if you give him a cricket bat, but the only reason he knows any Mozart aria is because Edwin showed them to him.

The only reason he knows Keats’ poetry is because Edwin would read them to him on slow, warm summer nights in the early 2000s.

The only reason he is here, is because Edwin let him stay.

So, it’s special, having someone like Edwin love him.

It’s fucking terrifying.

Because Charles is now holding the heart of the person he loves most in the world, and it’s a bigger responsibility than any he has ever taken on before.

He can’t fuck this up.

The thing is that nothing changes between them at all.

Charles isn’t sure if he expected it to, but what he is relatively certain about is that it most likely should. After all, it was an unexpected revelation, probably to both of them, definitely a shift in their relationship.

And yet, when Charles looks at Edwin, who is reading a novel whose name he cannot make out, curled up on the couch they have gotten for Crystal (and sometimes Jenny), he doesn’t feel different at all.

It’s still Edwin, his best mate, the boy that read to him when he was dying so he wouldn’t have to do it alone, who tries to smile whenever Charles shows him a new song he has fallen in love with, and occasionally fails hilariously at, who Charles would protect with his life and his soul and his cricket bat, no matter how high the stakes.

I love you the most, Charles thinks to himself, and smiles, because nothing about that has changed, either.

He has told Edwin that they would have forever to figure out the rest, and it’s the truth, technically speaking.

However, Charles doesn’t, because it’s Edwin and he has given Charles his heart and he doesn’t deserve to wait that long for an answer. It would be cruel in a way Charles cannot comprehend, and if there is anyone who doesn’t deserve more cruelty in their existence, it’s Edwin Payne.

The only problem with that fact is that Charles doesn’t know the answer.

He’s been thinking about it a lot, but the thing is, he’s never been in love before.

So he doesn’t really know what to compare his feelings for Edwin to, because, of course, they are greater than for anyone else, of course, Charles would sacrifice anything and anyone for Edwin, especially himself, of course, making Edwin smile is his favourite part of any day.

Because he loves Edwin, everything about him.

But is he, could he be, in love with Edwin?

Charles doesn’t know, nor does he know how to find out. It’s not like he hasn’t tried, but every novel he has paged through, every silly romcom he has watched, has been talking about butterflies in someone’s stomach, of seeing them in some new, golden light, of hearing violins playing when they speak, and Charles very much doubts that Edwin feels any of those things for him.

Otherwise he wouldn’t raise his eyebrows like that when he thinks Charles is being an insufferable little prick, he wouldn’t roll his eyes and tell him, “I know, Charles, you have told me a thousand times before”, whenever Charles brings up how much he wishes he could still taste things, or groan whenever Charles attempts to convince him to just try and let him put on some eyeliner.

(It’s just that Edwin would look so pretty like that, some kohl to bring out the warmth of his eyes, making them stand out even more than they do anyway.)

So all this talk of violins and sparkles and the need to give someone roses, if Edwin doesn’t feel that when he says he is love with Charles, then it’s pointless to consider, and anyway, those books and films describe people who have just met, not those who have known each other for twice as long as they were alive.

Maybe if he had just met Edwin, he would be hearing violins, Charles definitely thinks it’s possible.

Especially the violins in Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen.

“I just need some time alone”, Crystal says, putting on her jacket, while already opening the door. “And I am aware that that is a novel concept for the two of you, since you are basically attached at the hip, but for me, an alive human being, it’s really important to occasionally have a second of peace between almost dying and whatever we will have going on next.”

She stops to put on her shoes, almost falling over in the process, and Charles and Edwin share a look, a smile, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

“Don’t follow me”, Crystal tells them, especially Charles, and it’s kind of cute, actually. “I’m going to get the biggest frappuchino Starbucks is legally allowed to serve me and I will not tolerate any ghostly company while doing that.”

Charles holds up his hands, still grinning, indicating his surrender in a battle he wasn’t aware they were fighting, and Crystal gives him a single nod before she walks out.

“So”, Charles starts, and turns around to face Edwin, who is already looking back, “what do we think this frappuchino she was talking about, is?”

Actually, there is one thing that changes between them after all.

It’s subtle, at least at first, but looking back, Charles isn’t quite sure how he managed to miss it for the few weeks that have passed. Maybe it was the shock of almost being forced to move on to the afterlife, the chaos of getting Crystal and Jenny settled in London, the fact that it seems to increase only slowly, incrementally.

Edwin has never been a physically affectionate person, completely contrary to how Charles is.

If it had been up to him alone, he would have hugged Edwin much more often, would have leant against him when they were looking through a book together, would have held hands to keep them from losing each other when things got hectic. But it wasn’t, and that was fine, so it was occasional touches instead, a hand on Edwin’s upper arm, his back, ruffling his perfect hair when he was doing something kind of dumb, kind of cute.

(That one always made him duck his head and smile, glance up at Charles through his lashes and allow a second to pass before he started fixing his hair again.)

Now, however, it’s… it’s not getting better, because there was nothing wrong with it in the first place, Edwin’s aversion to physical affection, but it is changing now.

It’s less that he initiates it, more than he allows it to happen more frequently. Sitting down next to Charles on the sofa instead of taking the armchair, allowing Charles’ hand to linger on his arm for a moment longer than expected, letting their shoulders brush when walking.

He’s not asking to be touched, not really, but something about it still makes Charles irrationally happy as soon as he catches onto it. Because Edwin deserves all the affection the world can offer, and Charles will always be here to give it to him.

So he reaches out in the morning, when the sun has just started to rise, and puts his hand on the curve of Edwin’s shoulder, right where it meets his neck, and points out that the clouds are turning the most beautiful pink. He throws his legs across Edwin’s lap when they settle down on the sofa at night, a book in Edwin’s hands, the tablet Crystal made him buy in Charles’. He pushes his fingers through Edwin’s hair, not to ruffle it, but just to pretend he can feel its softness against his skin.

It makes Edwin duck his head again, give Charles a little smile when looking up, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

And thinks, I want to love you the most in every way you will have me.

“Jenny, I have a question”, Charles starts as soon as he has phased through the walls of her new butcher shop. It’s to her credit that she hardly reacts; the first time he had done that, she had thrown a meat cleaver right through his head. “What do you know about love?”

Instead of a knife, Jenny just throws him a weary look, an eyebrow elegantly arched. It makes Charles think of being scolded by the headmistress, a sensation that should be much more unpleasant than it is.

“Nothing”, Jenny answers and brings her cleaver down with a dull thud, separating flesh from bone, before looking up at Charles again. “No one ever knows anything about love and if they try to tell you otherwise, they are lying.”

There is a certain sense of finality in her voice and Charles knows he has been dismissed, no detention this time, but don’t dare to push it.

“Great”, he mutters, more to himself than to Jenny, “that doesn’t help me at all.”

“You should look at this, Charles”, Edwin says and turns the book towards him.

It’s late at night, Crystal having long since gone home and they are sat on the sofa, shoulders touching while they do their research. A new case has come up, and Edwin is trying to learn more about ancient Celtic runes, while Charles is pouring over a map of London’s underground; now, he looks up and at the page Edwin is showing him.

“We could add this to your bat”, Edwin explains, “it’s a rune for physical strength. Supposedly, it doubles whatever force you put into a hit.”

“Edwin, mate, are you trying to tell me I need help with hitting people?”

Charles is grinning, obviously teasing, and Edwin just scoffs, rolls his eyes.

And that is what Charles means; this isn’t birdsong and candle light, this is just how they always have been. This is what makes them them, even.

“Charles, do be serious”, Edwin replies, but there is affection in his voice, there is love. “I am perfectly aware that you can hit things very well, but that doesn’t mean that hitting them even better wouldn’t be an advantage.”

“I know. This is brills”, Charles concedes, and on a whim, nothing more than that, presses a quick kiss to Edwin’s cheek.

For a moment, he almost expects Edwin to admonish him, because this isn’t exactly something that they do, but instead he stares at him, before he ducks his head; Charles isn’t sure how he knows this, but if Edwin could, he would be blushing.

And it does something to Charles’ head, the thought that he would be able to make Edwin blush. It makes him stop dead in his tracks, look at Edwin not like he is seeing him for the first time, but like he could be looking at him for the rest of his existence and not get bored of it.

“Do you wanna do the honours of carving it? Since you were the one who found the thing?”, he asks just to say something, aware that his voice sounds slightly off, and thinks, I love you the most. I love you the most. I love you the most.

“Very well done, Charles”, Edwin tells him and clasps a long-fingered hand on Charles’ shoulder, peering down at the leprechaun he knocked out clean with his bat a few seconds before.

The rune really makes it pack a punch.

“I don’t think this will pose any further problems”, Edwin continues even as he crouches down to examine the passed-out form crumpled on the ground. He prods at it gently.

“It fucking better”, Charles replies, resisting the urge to pull Edwin away from the leprechaun, just in case that touching it might have some kind of magical side effect. “And if not, I’ll punch it right back out. I’ve got an Edwin Payne-improved bat after all, it won’t stand a chance.”

Just for good measure, he twirls the bat around once, twice.

This has always been one of his favourite parts of the job, the simple pleasure of knocking someone out before they get the chance to hurt his friends.

Edwin looks up at him from where he is crouching, and Charles grins at him, metaphorical adrenaline running through his non-existent veins still. He would punch out a bear if Edwin asked it of him.

Before he can say anything else, though, Crystal clears her throat from behind him, sounding decidedly less impressed.

“That’s really cool, yeah. New bat, I get it”, she says, walking around Charles so she, too, can see the unconscious leprechaun. “But you do remember that we actually wanted to talk to him, right?”

They get to talk to the leprechaun in the end, who turns out to be about as obnoxious as expected, but does admit to stealing the heirloom they were looking for for his pot of gold.

He even gives it back, but only after Charles has started twirling his bat again.

“And another satisfied customer”, Charles comments as they return to the agency, flinging his backpack into the corner.

“Client, you mean”, Edwin corrects, but still smiles at him, and pats the space next to him as soon as he sits down on the sofa. Charles flings himself down without a second thought, legs landing somewhere across Edwin’s laps, one of his hands settling on Charles’ ankles.

This is new, at least to some extent, and Charles loves it, the feeling of Edwin’s fingers on him. It feels right, somehow.

I just really love you the most, he thinks.

“Yeah, whatever”, he concedes and looks over at Crystal, who is watching them with something in her eyes that Charles cannot quite place. Not bad, per se, just…. Strange. “Doesn’t sound that good though, does it? And anyway, the most important thing is that they’re satisfied, right? Passed on right to the afterlife, no worries keeping them here any longer.”

“As if it’s only worries that could keep one here”, Edwin replies, his tone as dry as the desert, but making Charles laugh anyway. “We should be the best example for that.”

���You know what I mean!”, he shoots back, “It isn’t like with us, is it? Don’t think that the client was kept back by meeting the love of their life, were they now?”

It spills from his lips like nothing, without Charles thinking about it for a single second.

He’s still laughing, but Edwin’s fingers have stopped where they were gently stroking across the arch of his foot, and then Charles realises it, and for the first time, hears silence.

For the first time since they got back from Hell, they part when Crystal leaves.

The conversation had been stilted after Charles’...slip up? blunder? confession? and although it had been obvious that all three of them had been trying, it had been impossible to get things back on track.

So, Charles leaves with Crystal, telling Edwin he will walk her home, although that is something he has never done before, and Crystal lets him, although he is fairly certain she wouldn’t under normal circumstances.

She doesn’t need anyone protecting her from the city she grew up in after all.

“How do you know you’re in love with someone?”, Charles asks after they have walked in silence for a few minutes. He can’t think of a way to cushion the question, how to make it less awkward to ask, so he doesn’t bother with it at all.

“This is about Edwin?”, she asks, seemingly to clarify, and Charles nods mutely, not looking up at her. “I’m not sure. Especially not when it comes to the two of you. For Edwin, I could have seen from miles away that he was in love with you, even if he hadn’t reacted like he did when we first met. For you… you love him, anyone with eyes could see that, but if you’re in love with him, I think you have to figure that out yourself.”

“Do you know how it feels, though? Being in love?”, he asks, just in case Crystal can at least tell him that.

“I’m not sure”, she answers after a moment, then links their arms together, pulling Charles closer. “I think that’s different for everyone. But I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out what it feels like to you if you let yourself.”

He walks Crystal home, but when she asks if he wants to stay, Charles just shakes his head.

Edwin is back at the agency, and Charles isn’t sure exactly in which state, what he is thinking, and Charles cannot allow that. At least not for long.

What he does, though, is taking a little detour to the park not too far from their building.

It’s the first time he really pays it any mind, even if it’s most likely not the first time he’s been there, but now, Charles lays down on the grass, looking up at the night sky.

London is too bright for him to see many stars, but there’s a few of them; Edwin would surely be able to point out a constellation or two.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it.

Edwin isn’t here, and yet he is with Charles anyway, always, in every moment of his existence.

Sighing, he scrubs a hand down his face. There’s no way around it, it has to be now, and it has to be the right answer, the one he truly means, because Edwin deserves nothing but that.

No false hope, and no heartbreak that might be taken back along the line.

So, he thinks of Edwin, of his elegant hands and the swagger in his walk when he feels confident, of the colour of his hair and of his eyes, of the curves and slopes and sharp cuts of his face.

He loves that face, has seen it with every possible expression painted across of it, and still loves it.

The stars above are dim and partly hidden behind the clouds, so Charles lets his eyes slip shut, and imagines coming home to the agency and taking Edwin’s hands in his.

They would be just a little smaller than his own, his fingers slender and yet so capable, and if he could still feel, Charles is convinced they would feel cool against his skin.

He imagines pulling Edwin close and holding him like he has always wanted to, burying his face against the side of Edwin’s neck and pretending he can breathe in his scent. Having Edwin sneak his arms around Charles’ waist and cling to the back of his jacket, like he doesn’t want to let go again.

In his imagination, it feels a little like the hug they shared after being granted asylum on Earth, but it would be entirely different, because it wouldn’t be out of relief.

Instead, it would be just them, embracing to feel the other close.

And he thinks of pulling back from the hug, seeing Edwin smile and kissing the curve of his lips, nipping at them until he can make Edwin laugh and teasing his mouth open to lick into it.

It would be like kissing Crystal, kind of, only that-

Only that it wouldn’t be like that at all.

He runs back to the agency, as fast as his spectral feet can carry him.

Edwin is sitting right where he left him, almost like he hadn’t moved an inch since Charles walked out of the door, and he hopes to all deities he can think of that it isn’t so; knows, at the same time, that it is.

“Hi”, Charles greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and Edwin nods and gives him a smile, brittle and unsure and hopeful, all at once.

“Hello, Charles. Did Crystal get home safe?”, he asks, and it’s so painfully polite it makes Charles cringe.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, of course she did”, he responds, trying to figure out how to begin saying what he needs Edwin to know, but Edwin beats him to it.

“Did you mean it?”, Edwin asks, breathes out the question like he still has lungs to do so, and it’s in that moment that Charles is more certain of his answer than anything else he has ever thought, because Edwin sounds small, sounds vulnerable and breakable and yet so fucking hopeful, and Charles wants to pick him up and cradle him against his chest and never let go again.

“Yes”, he says, and it’s sunrise and violins and bouquets of roses all at once, it’s a single word that changes the world around them. “Kind of. Let me explain.”

And Edwin nods, sits back with his hands in his lap and all Charles can think about is that those same hands belong holding a book, resting on the top of Charles’ legs, which should be flung carelessly across Edwin’s lap, just because Charles wants to be near him.

“You’re the love of my life, no matter what”, he starts, crouching down in front of Edwin so he can take his hands; they look so lost. “You have been for decades. I love you the most of anything in the world. I will always love you the most. Every time I look at you, it’s just that on repeat in my head. I love you the most.”

He ducks his head, laughing softly, because it sounds silly now that he says it out-loud, but when he looks back up, there are tears brimming in Edwin’s eyes, making them shine even brighter.

His lips are parted and for just a moment, Charles thinks about kissing them.

“And you know, I still can’t say that I am in love with you back, because you don’t deserve a lie, but what I can say, what I can promise you, is that I could fall in love with you. And that I want to. More than anything.”

A single tear rolls down Edwin’s cheek, glistening in the dim light, and Charles looks at him, and thinks, I do. I am. I love you the most.

“Could that be enough?”, he asks, squeezing Edwin’s hands in his. “At least for the start?”

And Edwin nods so frantically that more tears spill over, wetting his face, and Charles can’t help but laugh; how strange to think that making Edwin cry for once is not his biggest fear, but something that fills his heart with joy to the point of bursting.

“Okay. Brills, that’s-”, he replies, and can’t keep himself from smiling so wide it would hurt if he was still alive. “So, um. Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you right now.”

Again, Edwin nods, and he is smiling, too, looks so happy that Charles thinks heaven must be overrated, because nothing in the whole of existence could compare to this.

He thinks of the scene he pictured in the park of holding Edwin close and how much in pales in comparison to this, to holding Edwin’s hands and watching him glow with love and hope and warmth.

And leans in to find out if the same is true for kissing him.

(It is.)

[baekgufiles]

loading . . .

pairing: p.sunghoon x fem!reader genre: high school!au | fluff w. count: 1.06k warnings: mentions of past bullying, mentions of food sypnosis: sunghoon has a crush on you and tries to pick up your interests to approach you.

book lovers !

— Are you… reading?

It was a new sight, for sure.

— Like actually reading that whole thing?— Jake carried the previous question.

— You know, I’m not that stupid. I can read a damn book once in a while— Sunghoon answered, putting down the novel.

— Don’t wanna let you down, but it’s the first time I’ve seen you reading by your own will in the last three years— Jay commented.

— Well, there’s a first time for everything, don’t you think?— he burried his face into the pages.

The truth is, Park Sunghoon didn’t enjoy reading. He was much more of an active person; his hobbies always had something to do with sports. Even on his laziest days, he would go out for a coffee or, worst case scenario, watch an action movie.

And the truth also is that Park Sunghoon always thought he would never be caught dead with a book on him. That was until he met you.

There hadn’t been a day on the whole year where you hadn’t brought a novel with you. Getting immersed in some passionate story and forgetting about the world around you was an everyday activity. A fire could be burning the whole school to the bedrock unbeknownst to you.

On the other hand, you could never go unnoticed. At least not by him. Sunghoon loved to watch your little unintentional reactions, your eyes quickly skipping words through the pages. He loved how your slightly too long hair got in the way, falling in front of your vision. And he loved how every time you’d blowed it, annoyed; yet the next day you would never had cut it.

Sunghoon didn’t like reading, but he couldn’t go a day without reading you. So, when he eavesdropped you recommending some book to one of your classmates with the tagline of ‘your favorite’ he knew that was his one chance.

— Hey, y/n!— his grip on the book cover became heavier at Jake’s voice—. You’ve got yourself a bookworm friend now!

— Yeah, Sunghoon suddenly has decided to pick up reading— Jay added, palming his seatmate’s back, as he added with sarcastic tone—, I wonder why.

— Guys, I’m tired of explaining that I’m not becoming besties with anyone just because they’re reading a b- Wait, you’re reading Little Women?— she interrupted herself.

Sunghoon slowly lowered the volume, finally facing you— Y-yes. It’s a nice book— his voice trembled a bit, but he managed to make himself understandable. Jay looked away, hiding a teasing smile; whereas Jake straight up caughed to hide his laughter.

— Yeah, it really is. Just… quite unexpected choice coming from you, I think— she talked, picking her words carefully.

— Well, it’s not my usual choice, but I truly like it. Also, Jo is such a good written character— his eyes caught the shimmer growing into your gaze.

— I know, right? She knew what she wanted all along, I kinda envy her. I’ve always related the most to Amy— a smile out of excitement crawled into her face.

Sunghoon was about to carry the conversation, but the teacher walked through the classroom door, announcing the end of the recess. He had never hated school more. You walked to your seat and he was left alone with Jay, Jake and their mockery.

Just when he was about to ignore everything and just sleep through the lecture, a neatly folded paper reached his desk. Kind of confused, he opened it, facing a hurried handwriting which readed “we can continue our chat after classes if you want to :)”

He raised his head in a rush, meeting your eyes in an instant before nodding enthusiastically.

— I can’t believed you really just got a date. By picking up a book? How did you do that?— Jake protested on your way out of high school.

— He has been whipped for long enough— Jay stated—. You just straight up flirt with the first girl that crossed your way.

— I’m sorry mister “I have a girlfriend”, not everyone’s got your luck— Jake bickered back.

— Can you guys calm down? I’m already plenty of nervous— Sunghoon interfered.

— You got this, don’t panic— Jay tranquilized him—. It’s just a girl, what could possibly happened?

Flash forward, Sunghoon and you just ordered coffee and two pieces of tiramisu at a little and quiet cafe near by.

The silence wasn’t totally uncomfortable, but you truly wanted to know more about your classmate, so you broke it— I didn’t know you were into reading?— you showed how you weren’t totally sure about the statement.

— Yeah, well… This was more of a first time for me— he instantly panicked, realizing what he just announced—. I mean, obviously this isn’t the first book I’ve ever read. I’ve read plenty of books before, you know? At least, plenty in my opinion; surely for you it wouldn’t be that much since you are always reading something but-

— Sunghoon— you giggled at his lowkey scared face— it’s okay, I get it. Not everyone has a book under their nose 24/7, in any case I’m the one who’d be the odd one.

You looked away, fearing about his reaction a little. He frowned— It’s not weird at all?— your attention was brought to him again, a curious expression stamped on your face—. You know, no one calls weird the football guys, and they always have a ball on them. Also for lots of them, that’s like their one and only interest and again, no one’s ever weirded out about it.

— I guess you are right— you hummed, quickly agreeing with him. You never before had the chance to chat alone with Sunghoon, but for some reason he just emanate comfort. You stirred your drink, absently—. I guess this doesn’t come as a surprise, but I used to get laughed out for just read all the time instead of actually speaking with other kids.

He lightly smiled— Believe it or not, I went through a similar phase too. Just omitting the reading thingy— he clarified, making you chuckled—. What I mean is, now I have really good friends, but it wasn’t always like that.

— We might have more in common that what I expected— you spoke, sipping your coffee—. Turns out you didn’t have to fake your interests for us to get along.

He felt the blood rushing up to his ears, face reddening on the way, as you happily chuckled.

@ baekgufiles 2024

[qiutls]

TNGDH 021

After doing it a few times during the festival, it was now easy to avoid Kyle's eyes and turn into a person. In the first place, except for that day when I met with Sen, I've been spending hours together with him, so I had no time to worry about getting caught.

"You're a magician?"

"Yes, but I'm not that talented, I just do this and that..."

"I see."

I drank the tea and ate the scones he prepared while I lied nonchalantly.

I'm sorry for lying but it's better this way, just in case I need a cover-up in the future.

If Kyle goes on an expedition, there would be a good excuse to accompany him. If he goes on to subjugate demonic beasts as written in the novel, as a magician, I can go with him.

"Rather than that, can you really spend time with me like this? Don't you have any work to do?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No....."

I'm not making you leave ah. I'm just wondering if you're really this free. It seems like the grand duke has a suspicion disease after I disappeared unexpectedly twice.

I turned my head, slightly guilty at the situation. Then his hand reached out and turned my face back to look at him.

"It's polite to look at each other's face while talking."

"I'm sorry I'm a man who isn't well versed in aristocratic manners."

"You should learn from now on."

"Why should I?"

He came closer and whispered.

"Aren't you my companion?"

A sin committed once lasts a lifetime. I looked at him miserably.

'How many times has it been now?'

Even beef bones won't be used as much as Kyle uses this companion comment. He has been using it to blackmail me whenever I tried to avoid answering his questions or to leave early.

You're someone who died without a companion in the original novel. Is that why you're obsessed with companions? To be honest, it's not that you didn't want to date anyone, it's that you couldn't right?

My mouth was itching to shoot back the comment at him but I forced myself to hold it in. Kyle who has been staring at me suddenly let out an airless laugh. He had a strange yet comforting smile plastered on his face. His bright expression pulled me in and before I knew it I had been staring at him as well.

"I feel comfortable with you."

"....."

"I know it probably sounds strange, don't think too much about it."

I have nothing to say if you tell me those words with such a soft smile.

Are you doing this on purpose?

I couldn't do anything except stare at him, I only came to my senses when he offered another scone to me.

"Since you're a magician, can you take a look at my magical beast? You can take a look at it whenever you're free."

I was about to bite into the scone then stopped after hearing Kyle's unexpected words.....That's strange. Did you just ask me, to take a look after.....ME?

I put down the scone and asked him again, this time listening with full attention.

"...What?"

"I asked if you could take a look at the magical beast I'm raising in the study."

I guess I didn't hear it wrong.

Looking alternately at the scone in my hand and at Kyle, my appetite dropped. Even though the desert looked delicious, I felt like I would get an upset stomach if I ate it now.

But Kyle didn't seem to mind my actions and continued pensively.

"I'm worried because he doesn't seem to have any appetite recently. And he's been lazy as well. He used to be a very active guy..."

Don't edit your memories ah! When have I been active? Apart from running on the wheel in order to get the skill, I was always lying down! You don't even know your own hamster.

"I think it's because, it's already in the growing stage, yet there's no signs of a mana stone forming inside him. I decided to periodically inject magic power (mana) as advised by the doctor but..."

".....Magic power?"

What's this? Who told you to do that?

"Since it's inevitable that it will suffer from the mana injected, I thought it would be a good idea to let you meet it and see if you can help."

"What...."

What? What's this situation?!

I can't even say no to his requests..... I closed my mouth and urgently called the system.

Hey! HEY! Hurry up and come here!

[ ……(*￣０￣)ノ ]

Why do you look like you've just woken up? I clenched my fist and looked at the blue system window in front of me.

'Hurry up and navigate to the Fruit Store or whatever it's called!'

[ ……. ] [ ……. ] [ ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ ] [ The Nut Store! ]

After a bit of loading, the shiny emoji came into my vision. I clicked my tongue upon seeing the decorated sign below it. Don't you get tired doing all of this?

I ignored the small letters that said renewal open and quickly scanned the store.

[ Mini mini Brazil Nut Madeleine, consumes 2% miracle value, in turn your body gets smaller for 30 minutes. It's even smaller than a hamster! ]

[ Hurried Almond Financier, consumes 3% miracle value, in turn you're able to run faster than usual. ]

Give me something useful please, what's the point of these items ah? If I wanted to be small, I'll just turn back into a hamster.

I finished reading page 1 and was about to turn into page 2 when I heard Kyle sigh.

"A magician, you say..."

"What are you thinking about, Your Highness?"

"I just thought, it's quite a relief."

"Why?"

"There has always been a shortage of magicians in the Blake estate. It hasn't been long since I became the leader, and I've had a lot of accidents at the Wyvern nest survey last year."

He looked at me expectantly.

No, I can't think of an excuse. Stop looking at me with such a face. How am I supposed to hold my ground, my expression turned to guilt. 

I moved my hand to cover his eyes, but of course my feeble efforts were rendered useless in just three seconds as Kyle held my wrist in place.

"The work at the estate is hard. I'm really so busy these days."

I made a vague excuse first, just in case he asks for another favor.

Even though the "Summon" skill was upgraded, it was only up to two hours. I can't do much with the time I'm given, and it's not like I can lie everyday that I need to go to the bathroom before I disappear again.

"....Is that so?"

Kyle's face was tinted with disappointment. I felt apologetic seeing this unfamiliar expression on him.

Why are you so disappointed ah? I'm a fake magician who can't even do basic spells. The only spell I know is how to turn into your hamster, Cashew Nut.

'Can you even consider that as a magic spell?'

The system just transforms me back and forth.

In any case, it's better to find a magician who's actually knowledgeable, rather than choosing me. But still... If you're this disappointed.

I added gently, as if teeming with good intentions.

"There's still enough time to look for magicians before the demonic beasts' subjugation expedition happens."

There was something that came to mind after I said that sentence.

The Northern festival was held during the coldest and darkest days of winter. After this tumultuous atmosphere, the Blake estate started preparing for a massive reconnaissance.

There are many reasons for this reconnaissance, the main purpose was to bring back the vigilance that was loosened during the festival. It was a reminder that no matter how good the life in the North is, it is still a dangerous place full of demonic beasts.

Another reason is probably the training of the newly inaugurated knights. At this time of the year, knights who were apprentices in the past will get to experience combat since their inauguration.

"The ceremony for the new knights....."

Kyle replied slowly,

"We did it during the festival, I remember it was pretty big this year since there was a lot of new recruits."

"Haha... I think I was pretty busy back then."

Kyle glanced at me suspiciously. I know I didn't have anything to be busy about, but just forget about it, let's move on! I ignored his piercing gaze as I recounted the events.

A knight's inauguration that was larger than usual.

The chandelier dropping in the middle of the banquet.

And then, a large scale reconnaissance.

I'm pretty sure at this time, Kyle...

[ The Duke of Blake is attacked during the reconnaissance and suffers a heavy injury on his right arm. ]

The system narrated the content from the original novel.

I asked a question quietly. 

'Will this injury, affect how he dies?'

After a moment of silence, the system answered succinctly.

[ That's right. ]

The sentence shone brightly in blue and it gave me chills. His fated death struck me with renewed vividness.

'Right...'

Kyle's death is now just 15 days away.

According to the original story, he started to confront Belial through the chandelier incident, and was attacked at the reconnaissance. Then he was stabbed to death by a strong man at his own castle.

Just because I changed a small part of the plot, doesn't mean I changed his fate entirely. Miracles don't happen that easily.

What now... What should I do?

"Hey."

"....."

"Shu."

"....."

"Shu!"

Kyle put his palms around my cheeks and I came to my senses when his cold hands touched my skin.

"Ah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I took a quick breath and tried to move my stiff fingertips.

"I'm alright."

He didn't seem to believe my words, but he didn't pressure me into confessing.

"I was just thinking about something for a moment."

Kyle frowned at my words.

"What were you thinking about that made you so pale?"

I couldn't answer honestly so I just shut my mouth.

Come to think of it, I always avoided his questions this way. Either I start talking fast, saying random excuses or I just shut up entirely. It must look suspicious.

But it can't be helped. Anyways, I changed the subject as naturally as I could and leaked the plan I had in mind in advance.

"Your Highness, may I follow you on this large-scaled reconnaissance?"

He answered straight away, as if it was not a difficult decision.

"Sure, but have you ever been outside the territory?"

"No."

"The north is much more dangerous than you think. At the snowfield, humans are the first learn how weak they are."

"....."

The outside, is entirely different from the Blake estate, as the grand duke described.

I gulped down and looked him in the eye.

"It will all be alright if Your Highness is there to protect me."

Protect me, Kyle, and I'll protect you. You might not know, but our fates are linked. Our survival depends on each other.

Kyle whispered back.

"Do you trust me?"

"Isn't it natural that the people of this land trusts you?"

"I know."

He said with a mischievous smile on his face.

"But I was asking you."

Acting like a hooligan. You already know the answer.

I squinted at him, pretending to look hateful.

"Of course."

"All right, I'll be responsible in protecting you, but, how are your horseback riding skills?"

"Ah."

Well how should I explain this... During our school trip, they went to Jeju Island and everyone rode a pony, but I was left behind doing homework at school.

Before I could answer anything, he added.

"Actually, it would be difficult to ride alone with your injury."

Fortunately, he didn't seem to think of leaving me behind.

But wait, what? Don't tell me? You're thinking of giving me a ride?! In front of all the new recruits??? Wait, no!

'.....Should I not have told him that I wanted to join?'

I bit my lips in order to calm down the goosebumps on my arms.

"....Thank you for being considerate, Your Highness."

When he leaves, I must learn horseback riding immediately!

t/n : longest chapter yet! thank u for all the ko-fis~ also posting twice today since I might not be able to do so tomorrow!

[berrystiles]

Right Where You Left Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Content Warnings: Angst, Lovers to strangers kinda deal ya know, some cursing.

Summary: It's the summer before you head off to college, and there's a fear about that decision that keeps creeping in. You try not to let it drown you, spending time making summer plans for your friends and with your boyfriend Steve. It feels like you can do this, and you're happy to be staring into the summer ready to make memories that will carry you into college. However, unbeknownst to you something else is brewing and Steve has plans of his own. One unexpected breakup later and your summer now looks a lot more like trying to overcome heartbreak.

Author Note: I'm the only one to read over this, so me and Grammarly are all I have regarding editing. Also, I guess this is just what I write now! Inspired by my favorite sad girl songs, if you know them I'm sure you'll see them. I have ideas for a part 2 of this if anyone would be interested? All of this was supposed to be a one-shot type of thing, but it started getting long. Part two would be a resolution as we fade into a happy ending, and get some much needed answers.

Ao3 Link - In case you want to read it there

Steve Harrington is soft smiles passed your way over the tops of all the children he babysits heads. He is weekend movie nights spent curled up next to one another on his couch, so close that you sometimes think you could become one person if you tried hard enough. He’s not your first relationship, but sometimes when you can’t sleep at night there’s a reoccurring thought that he is going to be your last. Steve has been orbiting around your life since elementary school, close but never within reach. That was the way, only knowing him through rumors passed around the halls of Hawkins High, two passing ships in the hallway between classes. This last year though has brought him into your world, no longer is he a passing comet that you stop to stare at. Now he’s yours and your mom will chide and say it’s just high school love, but you can’t imagine a world where his hand doesn’t stay attached to yours. Call it whatever you want, but something about this just feels too real. The kind of love you hear about in novels, the kind people wax poetic structures about. You’re not sure what you did in a past life, or what karma you collected over time, but you’re thankful for the universe putting the two of you together.

The only bleak part of your future with Steve comes after summer ends. You’ve just graduated, and school is expected of you in a way that you know you can’t turn down. Steve has been more than understanding, it’s a pressure he recognizes from his parents. You have no clue what you want to do but your dad swears that you’ll figure it out when you get there. You manage to get into a good school but it’s 5 hours away from Hawkins. Your parents are ecstatic, they can’t stop talking about all the ways you’re going to grow in this next phase of your life. Your parents are the people who met in college, and even though they won’t say it there’s something about you needing to attend that feels a little like them trying to relive their glory days. You love them but you’re not sure if they know you or if they really listen when you talk.

You find that if you put on a smile and nod along to what they say though it gets you through conversations faster. It’s a small price to pay so you can escape the house and rush to Steve. Steve who you hate to leave behind, sweet Steve who has been there to hold your hand and be your rock through it all. You’re not sure if you’d be able to put up with your parents’ expectations if he wasn’t there with you holding you up. You worry you put too much on him like you weigh him down the same way your parents tend to do. Sometimes you tell him your concerns, and he’s always quick to quiet the fear.

The thing with Steve is he is so soft sometimes, and yet you can’t help but feel protected in his arms. Still though, even as he brushes your hair to the side, as his lips touch yours and he peppers you with affection and reassurance, you make a vow to yourself to try and reduce how much you complain. You can’t stop the anxiety that sometimes spikes up despite his kindness that maybe this all hurts a little too much for him. After all, his family held similar expectations for him. You know that his dad is a different kind of mean and demanding than yours. Your family feels like a small-time problem when put into the perspective of Steve’s parents.

You have a mantra you follow, reminding yourself that school, as daunting as it is, is still months away. You have a whole summer to forget about it all. A whole summer of nothing but your friends and Steve. You know you’ll be right next door at the arcade, your shifts and Steve’s always lining up because of a favor Keith owed you. There are plans in place that will carry you through. There’s the drive-in and their Friday night movie deals, sunny days that will be spent at Lover’s Lake, the regular Sunday brunch at your favorite diner, and so much more. You make sure to focus on those things, knowing that all of it will be enough to get you through that first semester of school once you finally go.

However, like with most things that seem to happen in Hawkins, your good luck runs out. You hate to say it, but you didn’t see it coming. Delusional bliss is apparently where you’ve been living and the rose-colored glasses you didn’t know you were wearing are snatched off your face without a moment of hesitation. Looking back the signs will be there in glaring neon colors, and you will hate yourself for missing them. For missing them to the point that you couldn’t even backtrack to fix where your so-called perfect relationship went off the tracks.

It's a week into summer and things are not at all going to plan. Your parents are pressuring you to cut your summer short and go to school three weeks early so you can settle in for classes. And honestly, it’s not the worst idea and if you were anyone else maybe it would be appealing. However, you’re on a fixed time frame and you don’t plan to give up one ounce of time with Steve and your friends before you absolutely must. Despite schedules syncing up, there’s a distance growing between you and Steve. At the time you understand, there are kids to be driven around and then his parents unexpectedly show up back home. You don’t blame him for the distance, you take it in stride and offer your support just like he’s been doing for you. The future version of yourself, will look back and call you an idiot for not digging deeper. But why would you? In all the time, though maybe it hasn’t been that long, Steve has never once been the cause of your anxiety. Never once has he ever done anything to make you question your relationship, or whether you can trust him or not.

After a week of only seeing Steve in passing and on lunch breaks, you finally get the chance to have uninterrupted time with Steve. He catches you on a break at work and asks if you want to get dinner once your shifts end. He doesn’t carry that same glowing smile he always does when he drops these moments on you, but you brush the thought aside assuming this is the residual damage from his parents. You’re just happy at the prospect of being with Steve so you’re quick to agree, and even quicker to pull him in for a kiss to seal the deal. In your excitement, you don’t notice how this kiss doesn’t feel like a welcomed hello, and later you’ll tell yourself that it was the first sign of goodbye. But in the moment Steve is pulling away, and he’s looking at you like he's tracing and memorizing everything about you. “I’ll see you after work,” is the parting sentence before he’s jogging back to Family Video.

Steve and you meet in the middle of your two jobs, and he holds out his hand just like he always does. He leads you to his car, asking you about your day. You tell him about the party coming in, and about all the different characters of teens who came in. You prattle on and on, all the way to your favorite diner. You ask him about his day and try to get him to talk more. A quiet Steve, with eyes not shining, is a version you hate to see. You want nothing more than to pick him up, hopefully, wash off all the grime that his parents so obviously threw on him in the short week they were home. It’s always hard doing this walk and dance, the scars his parents leave him with always cut deeper than you have an awareness of. But it’s never this impossible, by the time you’re leaving the diner you’re more worried about what happened during this visit home than you ever have been. You’ve learned with Steve that when it comes to his parents you can’t poke too much otherwise, he gets spooked. Normally, he finds a way to talk about it usually when you’re both back at his place and the light is off for the night. When it’s so dark in his room that you can’t see the way his face is lined with grief, and pain that he shouldn’t have to experience. You’re so used to the pattern that you don’t mind the car ride after dinner being just the sound of the radio. It’s not unwelcomed, it’s just a part of the pieces that happen, which is why you’re surprised when Steve parks in front of your house.

“Oh, are we not going to yours?” Your brow is furrowed as you turn in your seat to face Steve. Even when you don’t stay at his place, he still is always looking at you when you turn to leave. This time though Steve’s hands are still holding on to the steering wheel, and he can’t turn to face you when he finally gathers the ability to reply. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The radio is still on, and your ears pick up Whitney Houston singing a new song that’s been playing everywhere. “What do you mean,” your stomach feels like it’s falling right out of you and your brain is giving radio silence as you try to gain some understanding of what the hell is going on. You watch as Steve takes a deep breath like he’s centering himself before turning to face you. Every time Steve has ever looked at you it’s been with nothing but softness, an unquestioning gaze that always tells you what he’s thinking. The Steve before you though, these are eyes that aren’t that sweet look he normally gives you. Instead, this one is cold, one that you can barely recall. You have to pull at memories from his reign as King Steve to find some type of look that’s like the one you receive now.

“I just don’t think this is working,” he shrugs like this isn’t the biggest thing to ever happen before. Like he’s telling you something that should be common knowledge.

“I don’t understand, Steve.” There’s a burning feeling in the corners of your eyes. The sensation is a warning that if you don’t pull it together, you’re going to start crying. You don’t know how to pull it together because what little Steve is telling you sounds an awful like a breakup.

Steve sighs, something heavy like he’s just so tired of having to explain himself. It’s an odd sound and it rubs you raw because he hasn’t explained anything. How can he already be tired of a conversation that makes no sense?

“Look, I don’t want this to be harder than it is,” you cut him off before he can continue. “So don’t make it hard, just tell me what’s going on and why you’re saying all of this.” You don’t recognize your voice. The pleading tone sounds watery and not at all like what you know yourself to be. You don’t think you’ve ever begged someone in this way before.

“I just don’t feel the same way for you,” it’s so blunt and to the point that it leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t understand,” you’re repeating yourself and you hate that. You’re not stupid, you can usually piece things together faster than this. The phrase, ‘having the rug pulled out from under you’ rattles around in a way that suddenly makes total sense.

“I don’t know how to explain it any better. I don’t want to date you anymore. I don’t want to see you.” You didn’t realize before that the cold tone he was using still allowed for kindness. In this final statement, his words are ice, and you feel like you just took a plunge into Lover’s Lake in the middle of winter.

You have more you want to say, questions that you feel need to be asked. If you stay though you feel like you’re not going to get them, and honestly, it’s taking more energy to keep yourself together than it would be to stay. You’re not sure if you say anything else if there’s some kind of acknowledgement on your part. All you know is that your body is screaming at you to run. Staying in that car doesn’t feel like a place you belong, so you’re quick to get out. You don’t even make it to the door before Steve is peeling off and driving himself home. The action feels like the last break in any resolve you had. Your Steve would always wait until you were inside before leaving. Always telling you he'd rather know with certainty that you were safe before he ever left. It was one of those things that told you how caring he was, that showed how he loved you.

______________________________________________________________

In what will later be referred to as The Aftermath, you have the next day off. Your mom hovers at your door, knocking and knocking. The sound makes your head hurt and forces you to pull your covers over your head like it’ll drown out everything else. If you had anyone else as a mother, you might be able to convince yourself that she’s doing it from a place of concern. The truth is that this is the same woman who when you came in last night, uncontrollably sobbing and barely getting out the words ‘Steve’ and ‘broke up’, your mom was asking if this meant you’d go to school earlier like she and your father want.

The tears had stopped sometime around when you finally found yourself falling asleep. They haven’t picked back up and everything you ever learned in biology screams out you’re dehydrated. There are things you should be doing, things that you have done for yourself when other relationships ended that made it so the person you were dating was nothing more than a faded memory. Maybe if you go through the ritual of it all, the gathering of reminders, and the disposal of memories it’ll make you feel better. There should be phone calls to girlfriends, and movie nights set up to help push you through these feelings.

Instead, you continue to stay in bed. Your limbs feel like lead, weighed down and stuck, too heavy for you to move. Your curtains are drawn so tight that not even the hot Indiana sun comes through to ruffle you into motion. Your wall has your attention, and you find yourself using the texture of the paint to trace all the lines in your relationship with Steve. Maybe if you follow them to the end like a map, they’ll tell you where you are and where you go from here.

In the midst of The Aftermath, in the bed of your grief, you manage to make one phone call. Well… that’s a lie. You make two phone calls. In no surprise to the imaginary audience watching you grieve; the first call is to Steve. The phone rings and rings and rings. Steve never answers and it should be a sign. You get the standard Harrington voicemail. Steve’s mom’s voice becomes the soundtrack to your day. She tells you to leave a message, and that the family will get back to you when they can. You open your mouth, no plan on what to say but surely there’s something there in your head that will tumble out. The answering machine beep is met with your silence though, just your breath coming through, you wonder if Steve will know it’s you even if you don’t leave your name. Does he still have you memorized in all the ways that you still know him? Did he forget about you in just the span of a day? Worst thought of all, did he even really take the time to trace you down in his memory the same way you did him?

You hang up after that last thought, still no name and still carrying the hope that it could be enough. Your second call is made two hours later when there’s still no call back from Steve, even though he should be off today too. Even though, there’s a piece of your mind screaming over and over that he should have heard the silence in the message and been able to read through it. Maybe that’s unfair of you to place that on Steve, but it also feels unfair that he had the power and took action to bring you where you lay now. The second call is to Keith at the arcade, where you know he’s working since you’re off today. The favor you cashed in on is wasted because your request is for him to take back your schedule.

“I can’t work the day shift anymore,” your voice is hoarse and throat sore as the words stumble out.

“That sounds like a you problem,” you grimace as you hear Keith chewing what you know are those stupid cheese snacks he always carries around.

You hold back a groan and tell yourself your next move, while incredibly bratty, is the only way that you return to work. Your parents hate you working at the place anyway, but you like the independence, you like having your own money and you don’t want to give up another thing this summer.

“It’s going to be your problem because I’m not working any shift that overlaps with Harrington. I’ll quit.” You hate how Steve has transformed into Harrington. Hate how removed it sounds, not at all reflective of how close you had been. If you say his first name though, you know you’re going to cry.

Keith whistles, the tone way too low and drags out in a way that makes you feel a wave of creeping anger you’re not used to.

“So, you and Harrington are over then. Knew he was stupid but didn’t think he was that stupid.”

“He’s not stupid,” your defense is soft, it feels telling of where you are. It isn’t harsh in the way that it should be. It’s not your job to defend Steve anymore, he let you go from that position last night after all.

“I’ll change the schedules,” is the response you get back and it’s the nicest thing that you think Keith has ever said to you. However, you know Keith, and this feels a little too easy.

“Is there a catch?”

“Nah, just can’t afford to lose you so consider it your lucky day.” It doesn’t feel like your lucky day, but you don’t say that. Just mumble out a thank you after he tells you that your shift tomorrow will be the closing shift and Harrington will be gone by then.

True to his word, when you pull into the shared parking lot of Family Video there is no sign of Steve’s car. There’s an awareness that it won’t always be this easy, that Hawkins is too small to go all summer without seeing him. And despite Keith’s previous comments on how he couldn’t afford to lose you, there’s also a silent understanding that he’s still going to be an absolute shit about all of this for the rest of the summer. Keith doesn’t know any other way to be, and it’s a moderate price to pay for your ability to at least show up to work without breaking down.

Dustin is the first one you see in The Aftermath, and you can tell by the way he keeps glancing at you in the arcade that he already knows what’s transpired between you and Steve. You’re not sure if it’s the telltale sign of the obvious breakup look you’re sporting, or if it’s Steve’s own admittance to the teen. Could be a combination of the two though. You looked in the mirror before leaving today. You’re fully aware that you look and feel like shit, and there’s no way to sugarcoat that.

Normally, Dustin would come to chat with you. Whether he’s with the rest of the party or by himself, he always says hello. He would do it before Steve, and you hoped that he’d do it after too. Dustin doesn’t say hello though, he avoids your gaze when you catch him looking your way, and even though you know at one point, he should come to you to complain about a machine he just leaves instead. The act makes you sad, it’s the first divide between the friendships you created and thought you would get to hold on to. Dustin might be in high school now, but he’s still a kid. Rationally, a piece of you should be able to string together how his silence speaks more about how he doesn’t know what to say and less about a side he’s choosing. Reality rarely ever plays out as it rationally should, so instead Dustin just becomes the first domino that falls, and you feel like you should have known everyone else would go along with him.

______________________________________________________________

The next three weeks find you oscillating like a fan. Days spent hiding in your room, working up the courage to move and take care of yourself. Then nights of work or spent rummaging through polaroids that catalog your relationship. You always told yourself you put them in a scrapbook, something to hold the years together so in old age you’d have something to shuffle through. It sounds silly now, but the pictures sit in a shoebox of movie stubs from the Hawk, the receipt from your first date together, and the paper menu from the diner that you talked a waitress into giving you. There are notes scribbled on lined paper that were slipped into your jacket pockets when Steve would kiss you goodbye as he dropped you off at school, dried flowers from prom, and so much more. After a week of crying over the pieces, ink smudging thanks to fresh tears your body can create again now that you’re hydrated, you manage to shove the shoe box in the back corner under your bed. You had to slide it back there with the broom, but you know it’s not within reach now and that feels like progress.

You still dodge calls from your friends that you collected outside of your relationship. When they manage to catch you on the phone they whisper sweet condolences, but underneath it’s an unspoken blame of how you should have known. “He was the King of the school, he only knows how to break hearts,” your friend Val tells you over the phone one night. Val pops her gum on the other end of the line, and it sets off a chain reaction of emotions. You feel like you’re going through the five stages of grief in that moment. Val tries to invite you out and reminds you that Hawkins has more boys than just Steve Harrington. She promises you a good time, a night to help you forget all about Steve. You make an excuse and promise to go out next time, but both of you know it’s a promise you won’t keep.

Your parents seem to have set up some game plan amongst themselves. They’ve learned that they can’t tell you that your heartbreak is juvenile. Instead, they preach about how open you’ll be to new opportunities when you head to school. Your dad has the course list, where he got it from you don’t dare to ask. He tries to plan out your future over dinner, but you don’t even know what life you want for yourself. Before this you just saw Steve in the future, you had naïvely assumed you’d have time to sort out the rest. But Steve’s in the rearview now, and your parents want to know what life you plan to have in your passenger seat.

It's three weeks of juggling it all, but you still haven’t seen Steve. It should feel like the universe is still on your side, but really, it’s more of a cosmic joke. It should be finally time for some peace, instead, the world feels the need to implode again. Your parents are out of town, an annual get-together with their old college friends, and you’re home alone. It’s late, you’ve only been off work for 20 minutes when you get to the grocery store. The pantry at home is bare bones and you’ve been putting off the need to go shopping for the last three days. You’ve been supplementing meals through various fast-food restaurants on the outskirts of town. But you’re tired of driving so far away, plus the taste of grease has become less and less appealing as the days have dragged on.

The evening finds you shrugging off your name tag from the arcade and running into Bradley’s to do some shopping before they close for the night. The air conditioning hits you right as the doors open, it cools your skin in a way that summer nights never will. You close your eyes and pause for a moment, maybe you look crazy, but it’s late and you don’t anticipate anyone else is going to be poking around the store. You grab a cart and you’re on your way, trying to be mindful to be quick because you know how it feels to work a closing shift. You wander up and down the aisles of the store, with no real list in mind just grabbing what sounds good. Your diet is still in a post-break-up mode which means you’re either only consuming junk food or pushing food around on your plate still too sad to eat. Which means, it’s time to be gentle with yourself and just grab the food that calls to you. Now is not a time for healthy eating and hitting every food group on that pyramid they went over in health class.

Because of this though you aren’t paying attention to what’s in front of you. You move through the aisles of the store with your eyes on the shelves, still having confidence in the fact that it’s just you and the store clerk in here. But remember, Hawkins likes to implode both literally and emotionally. You swing your cart into the next aisle, already excited to be browsing the cereal options. You only make it a handful of steps forward, eyes already searching for the cinnamon toast crunch which you’re rarely allowed to bring into the house otherwise your mom will complain. Your cart jolts and pushes you back, and you look up to find that you’ve hit another person’s cart.

You feel silly, and your cheeks are warm in an embarrassed flush. “I’m so sorry,” the words tumble out as you drag your gaze up to see what suburban mom you’ve managed to piss off tonight. When you see who it is though you find yourself wishing it was a mom about to yell at you, instead it’s Steve, you find yourself in front of. He says your name, a hint of surprise, and what you might have previously labeled as nervous energy. You must look stupid, both of you really, just standing in silence as the hum of the grocery store lights buzz on and the radio station the store is set to plays out louder than it should. Steve’s cart is full of popcorn, and snacks that you can trace to each teen you know he babysits, there’s even Robin’s favorite chips and the beer that Eddie likes to drink. All of it slides together and reminds you that it’s Saturday, which means movie night at Steve’s.

You don’t know what to say, and you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Frozen so that you can’t even run to escape the impending collision that is about to take place. It’s Robin rounding around the corner, her voice loud and unapologetic in a way you have always admired. “Hey, dingus, should we grab some ice cream for Erica, or do you think…” her voice trails off as she catches sight of you. “Oh,” and you look to Robin, she raises a hand to give a small wave at you and smile. It’s enough to also jump Steve into movement again, saying your name and you don’t wait to see if there’s more.

You don’t say anything as you turn to leave, though maybe you should have, at least to Robin. But she’s the headlights turning off and giving you the freedom to run. You can eat another fast-food burger tonight, and you hate that you’re just leaving your cart in the middle of the cereal aisle. But you can’t, you won’t just sit there and let yourself wonder that store when it’s obviously not a safe place.

The air conditioning hits you again as you run out the doors. No time to pause this time, and you actually seek comfort in the sticky heat that greets you outside of Bradley’s. The crickets sing to you as you rush to fumble with your keys and drive away before your past tries to catch you outside. You got three weeks of no Steve, and you had been lulled into this fantasy of maybe being okay someday soon. This though, this small interaction, where you didn’t even really talk to him, has shown that you’re not close to that. When you finally manage to pull into your driveway, your hand bangs down on the steering wheel. You mumble to yourself, “that was so stupid, you just ran?”

You’ll eventually make your way into the house about 15 minutes later, after you had completely gone over the entire interaction about three times. You know it will continue to replay all night long. It’ll be inside that you realize you never even stopped to get food, too focused on seeking the safety that you can apparently only find in your room these days. Time drags on and you keep opening and closing the fridge and the cabinets hoping that food will magically appear the next time you start looking. It’s late, Bradley’s will have to be a tomorrow you type of goal. You know Steve and the group will be up late tonight which means the morning will be safe.

You’ve resigned that tonight’s dinner will be a pack of saltines you find buried in the back of the pantry when there’s a knock on your door. Your friends know not to show up unannounced, and if your parents managed to come home early, they wouldn’t be knocking. It’s Hawkins, you remind yourself as you creep to the door, but then the additional it’s Hawkins kicks in and there could be anything waiting for you. You grab your mom’s tennis racket from the closet by the front door and peek out the peephole, but your porch light isn’t on, and you can’t see anything. When you open the door, tennis racket at the ready, there’s no one there. Instead, sitting on the mat right in front of your door is three bags of groceries from Bradley’s.

The bags contain all the items you remember dumping into your cart, including the added addition of one box of cinnamon toast crunch. You can’t prove it, there’s no note, but you don’t really need it do you? There are only two people who would have had access to the cart you left behind, and only one of those two would have added in your favorite cereal. An internal debate rages inside of you, one side of you wanting to leave the food on your porch. Hoping that maybe later Steve will drive by and see it still sitting there. Maybe it will be an ounce of the hurt he's inflicted on you. The other part of you though, the part whose stomach is literally just growling at the prospect of food, wins out. You drag the bags inside and spend the night cycling between the incident in the store and what the bags of food on your porch mean.

The next day feels like a relapse, and you find yourself pacing by your phone, the internal debate to call Steve rages on in your mind. The number of times you pick up that phone and start to punch in his number is too many to count. There’s only one time when you get through the whole number, you only let it ring once before you’re slamming the phone back down and rushing off to your room. You throw yourself onto your bed, face first into your pillow, and you scream. It feels like every emotion that’s been building up since that night in Steve’s car just forces its way out of you. You spend the rest of your day in bed, Don’t Dream It’s Over plays on repeat as you stare at your ceiling and only recognize time passing by the light that streams in from your window.

When your parents come back a week later you say that you want to leave Hawkins earlier after all. They don’t even ask why you changed your mind. They don’t press the issue, which you figured they wouldn’t, but it still stings. instead, they celebrate. Your mom pulls you into her arms and excitedly tells you that it’s the second-best decision you’ve ever made. Your dad chimes in about how the first was applying to college in the first place, his hand feels heavy on your shoulder. The smile you wear feels like it was pasted on, like some macaroni art piece a kindergartener does. Your parents don’t notice though, they never do, they move on already making plans about your departure. The choice doesn’t feel right, but then again, you’re not really sure what the right choice is any more or how it should feel.

______________________________________________________________

You spend the rest of your summer forcing yourself into spaces you don’t want to be in, but it feels like you have to. You got to parties with Val, you spend summer days at the pool with your friends as you planned. It may not be all the friends that you had anticipated being with but it’s something. You feel like with each activity you do you’re adding another band-aid to your heart hoping that this time maybe it’ll stay together. There are times, like at the community pool, when you sit with your friends, and you don’t really feel there. It feels like you’re playing a part and you’ve never been a good actress, so you’re still surprised when everyone just believes it.

Time and life keep moving forward and you wish it felt like you were too, but you still feel stuck. Your parents think that time won’t start moving until you’re away at college, and your friends believe that you need to start dating someone new to feel like you’ve moved on. You don’t think any of them are right but again you’re still stuck wondering what the right move is and how it’s supposed to feel.

What you do manage is to only catch glimpses of Steve for the rest of the summer. You see him at the movies dropping the party off, and you catch him one day leaving Family Video when he’s stayed too late. There’s another day at the grocery store, where you find yourself hiding behind a display stand to avoid the awkward run-in. You see him but you don’t think he ever sees you. You’re not sure if that’s exactly what you want, but if it is then why does it still also ache? A week before you leave you seek Steve out. You spend the morning giving yourself a pep talk, you take the time to perfect your outfit and ensure that you look better than you feel. This encounter is in your control, and you want to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.

You march into Family Video. You’ve been waiting for Robin to leave for her break and for a lull in customers to happen. When all the stars align you take a deep breath, shake out the nerves and move forward with purpose. You have a week left in Hawkins and all your teen magazines have told you that if you want to start college off right you need closure.

The bell above the door rings out in a way that feels louder than you remember. You don’t let it stop you though, you move forward and watch with some satisfaction as Steve’s head pops up and surprise washes over his face. Good, you think to yourself, finally, he knows what it’s like to be ambushed. You’ve planned out what you want to say so once you’re at the counter you speak before Steve can completely derail you.

“Harrington,” the last name comes out a lot calmer than you thought it would, you feel confident. “I leave for school next week…”

“Next week?” Steve interrupts, he looks like he has more to say but you send a glare his way which is enough to have him holding back words. If you paused long enough to just stare at him, you might wonder if he's disappointed, but you don't let the silence linger long enough to notice.

“As I was saying, I leave next week for school, and you owe me some type of closure or explanation for what happened. I’ll be at the diner tomorrow night, 7 pm and I expect you to show up.” You’re proud of yourself, your voice has an edge to it that leaves no room for disagreement.

Steve just says your name and he says it in the same soft way he did when you first started dating. You feel ruffled and some of that confidence feels like it’s being washed down a drain somewhere. “No,” you interrupt him. You can feel the tension in your forehead, you know your brows are furrowed and the frown on your face is reflecting your real emotions instead of some mask you’ve been wearing.

“You just dumped me, out of the blue and you gave me no explanation. I’m leaving next week, and you owe me this. You don’t get to dump me, say that you don’t care for me, and then leave groceries on my doorstep, Steve.” Something in your words must hit a soft spot that you know Steve still has inside of him. Even if his feelings for you are long gone, Steve has always been gooey and soft like caramel on the inside.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.” You stare at him a moment longer, trying to figure out if you’re getting an honest response. Once you’re sure you are you nod and turn to leave. When you were dating you never liked saying goodbye to Steve, it was always a see you soon. Now when you leave there’s no goodbye, but it’s more because you don’t want to waste another word on him. Not when you need to prepare for tomorrow.

______________________________________________________________

The next night finds you showing up at the diner first. The waitress recognizes you and tells you it’s been a while since she’s seen you. You don’t have the heart to tell her the reason why, you just smile and walk to the booth that used to belong to Steve and you.

You don’t feel as prepared for your conversation tonight as you would like, but you do feel less fragile. Somewhere between yesterday and today, you’ve managed to slide into the anger stage of your grief. There are times when you’re not sure if you’re going to just hit Steve as soon as you hit him, or worse. Worse is that small intrusive thought that you have about kissing him one last time. It’s weird because you’re so angry, the angriest you think you’ve ever been before. You feel like a pot that was left on a burner too long, just boiling over the edge and sizzling when you hit the stove eye.

And yet, behind all that anger there’s still the part of you that loves Steve. That piece of you can’t even remember the last time you kissed. You have fuzzy memories of when it might have happened. Maybe a goodbye kiss as he dropped you off at home, something that happened underneath his comforter as you both tried to hide away from the world a little longer. Either of those or something more is possible. It’s just... how were you supposed to know you needed to remember it? You think that maybe this time if you knew it was the last, you’d feel more prepared this time. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.

You slide the salt shaker between your hands, watching as it glides over the table as smooth as butter. Another glance at the clock tells you that Steve is late, Steve who was never late to anything that had to do with you before. The heat starts to turn up, and you feel more and more like that roaring boil of the pot. Twenty minutes after the hour he was supposed to be there the bell chimes above the door.

You don’t give in to the urge to look, you watch the salt continue to glide over the table. You know already it’s Steve because that same waitress is telling him that his girlfriend is at the regular booth. Steve doesn’t even correct her, at least not that you can hear. Steve slides into his seat as easily as the salt continued to glide on the table. All the anger you felt feels like it whooshes out of you. You go from feeling like a boiling pot to a balloon that was blown up and then let go before the air could be sealed inside.

As you sit across from him, the silence stretching on like the miles on an interstate you find yourself spiraling. People, mostly your friends and parents, have implied that it was childish of you to assume that your relationship with Steve would be anything long-term. And maybe you were, maybe somewhere in it all you got swept up in teenage fantasies. Sitting across from him though reminds you how it happened. For all the pain he’s caused, Steve Harrington is still the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.

The people of Hawkins can gather and label you as simple-minded for all you care. Slap a label on you and shelve you in the town library with all the other romance novels, you don’t care. Because for all that they say you saw yourself creating a future with this man in front of you. Sure, maybe you romanticized it all, but God… you would have married Steve if he had given you a chance.

It’s that thought that spurs you back into the anger portion of The Aftermath. Because you didn’t build your relationship up by yourself. Steve was there too, he’s the one that layered the cement for your foundation. Steve with his endless flirting, his soft compliments, his whispered promises of forever. And even at the end, Steve left you with no explanation for this exit he took. And you can’t start your journey until he finally tells you why.

“You never really gave me a why for what happened at the end. I hate that it’s been months and I can’t let go of you, and maybe I’m just oversharing here, maybe I cared more, but I have to know. Steve, what the hell happened to us?” You’re surprised how quickly the words come out, but you’re pleased that they sound so tough. If Steve is surprised that you had to break the silence, he doesn’t show it.

“We’re young, this wasn’t going to be forever.” Steve’s voice isn’t loud, but it feels like it echoes in the diner. You want to sink into the vinyl of the booth, but you know you can’t.

“See, you say that but,” you take a breath to collect yourself to figure out how you say this all. “We talked about plans, Steve.” You look up, it’s easier to stare into the fluorescents than into Steve’s eyes. Your nerves make themselves known as you feel your fingers picking at the dry skin around your nails.

“Maybe somewhere along the way, I was looking farther into the future than you were. And if I was then I guess that’s on me.  But I didn’t even know forever was an option until you gave me the words to use.” You shake your head like it’ll knock away your disbelief. Your gaze drifts from the lights to your hands gathered on the top of the table now.

“There was that time,” You lay your hands flat on the table hoping the action will stop the nerves from expanding. “We had only been together for like 4 months, and it was that really rainy day?” It’s a question, a quick uptake that doesn’t need an answer. You finally look to Steve again, waiting for some recognition to spark in his mind before you bulldoze on.

“We stayed in your bed for hours, wrapped up in one another. It was the laziest and softest day we had since we started dating. And there was that moment, and you told me that you wanted pause time.” A grimace of a smile forms, and it’s a bitter laugh that accompanies it. “You wanted to stay in that moment forever, do you remember that?”

Steve, who has been so emotionless through your every moment since you broke up, seems to finally crack. You watch emotions slide out of him as you wait for a response.

“I remember.” It’s a whisper, a barely audible acknowledgment of your past. If words could hold weight though, if they could carry more than a sound, you think those two would weigh a ton. They sound heavy at least, and for once you’re happy you don’t have to offer to carry them for Steve.

“So, when did that change?” You press on, encouraged by his response.

“I wish I could tell you. I wish there was a day or a time if that would help you. It was slow, and then it was just there and so I ended it.” Steve’s response is a rush of words, and his gaze isn’t even on you. It all collides together like a car crash. And just like a car crash once the collision hits, you can’t look away from it. It feels like a tragedy, and you know you shouldn’t stare, but human nature is human nature, and you can’t change that. Maybe there’s more to say after his confession but instead, Steve leaves without saying goodbye. His departure is quick and you calling his name is the only thing that follows him.

You stay stuck in that booth for a while, Steve’s words rolling around in your head like a tumbleweed. This was supposed to be closure, but it doesn’t feel like anything has been closed. You feel like you’re trying to piece a puzzle together but some of the pieces are still missing. Steve is the only one that has them but he’s refusing to let you see them, so you don’t even know what you’re trying to put together.

A small nagging part of you feels like there’s still more to this. Like something bigger is at play. But if Steve isn’t willing to share with the class despite all your opportunities for him to do so you’re at a loss. You have to, at a certain point, accept the fact that this is an unknown portion that you’ll never get answered. You hate that, hate how bitter it tastes, but you have no other choice than to find a way to work towards it. Because if nothing else, this night has shown that you can’t keep this candle burning when someone is actively blowing it out. It’s time to snuff the flame out yourself. You want to hope that maybe it’ll be easier once there’s some distance between Steve and yourself. Maybe if you’re no longer hiding from him at the grocery store that door that feels like it’s still wide open will start to close and you can move on.

______________________________________________________________

The day before you leave feels like a round of goodbyes. You hadn’t told anyone besides Steve that you’d be leaving early. Your friends are surprised, and you smile and tell them you’re just excited. Steve had always been your secret keeper, the only one that knew the fear you had around going to college. So, you know your lie will go over smoothly with your friends, and just like you’ve been doing for the remainder of the summer your mask of ‘I’m fine’ will help sell the story more.

It's the kids and Robin that you feel the most torn on, the ones that you struggle with when it comes to a goodbye. The breakup fractured a lot of things in your life, and it feels like maybe you lost them all somewhere this summer. They were never really yours though, so how you could have lost them you’re not sure. In the end, you solidify your resolve and even if it means nothing to them it does mean something to you. You’ve already worked your last shift, and yet you sit in the shared parking lot of your former work and the only place you’re guaranteed to find everyone you need all at once. Since the mall is long gone, this is the best place to be on a hot summer day. Unless you want to share the pool water with the rest of the Hawkins. You wait, you let Steve leave for his lunch, and you take that as your moment.

There’s no speech planned, nothing too major in your goodbye. Robin’s surprised face is what greets you when she looks towards the bell ringing. A soft exclamation of surprise escapes her and she looks confused. “I don’t want to waste your time,” you find yourself telling her. This is the quietest you’ve ever seen Robin.

“I just wanted to say goodbye. I know you’re his friend, and we haven’t really talked since… Well, you know when, but sometimes you felt like my friend too and so I just wanted to say goodbye before I left and that I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you before this.”

All your words sound so unsure, and you feel like you should be phrasing questions instead of just statements.

Silence hangs over the store, and you feel like if you don’t leave it’s just going to grow more awkward. “Okay, well then.” You mumble to yourself, and you force a smile and a wave before you turn to go. You make it to the door, it’s open and you are half in the heat and half in the air conditioning when Robin finally speaks.

“I’m sorry,” it’s not what you expect, and you throw a glance over your shoulder. Her face reflects the apology she’s given you. “We were friends, it’s just-” You shake your head and interrupt.

“It’s okay, Robin. He was your friend first, I’m glad that he had you and the kids.” You smile, and it feels real this time. “Maybe when I get back for winter break, we could be friends again?”

 “I’d like that.” Robin matches your smile, and her nod is enthusiastic. You wave one last time and head fully out into the heat, you’ve got one more stop right next door and then your goodbye tour of Hawkins will be over.

The kids are right where you expect them. Tangled together around one of the games, with Max behind the controls. You wait until the losing screen comes on before addressing them. Your goodbye with the kids is just as short as your one with Robin. “You know I’m kind of gonna miss watching you all hold these games hostage,” Your tone is cheerful, not at all scared like you feel inside. The kids are quick to turn around and it’s Will that matches your tone when he calls your name. Will has always been the kindest of the bunch, and he’s quick to hug your side while everyone else smiles and says hello.

Max is the one to break the greetings, always the most impulsive of the group. “What are you doing here, do you work today?”

“Uh no, actually I came here looking for you guys.” You feel like you stumble over your words, especially as Mike gives you the most suspicious look you’ve ever seen him throw your way. He’s always hard to please, but you feel like maybe you shouldn’t have added him to the goodbye tour after all.

“I just wanted to say goodbye, I know we haven’t talked this summer but still.” You find yourself shrugging as you finish talking.

“You’re leaving already?” It’s Dustin this time, and you find yourself surprised. He hasn’t talked to you since the breakup, and you assumed that would carry over to this conversation. His tone sounds disappointed, and you find yourself feeling guilty for a reason you can’t name.

“I leave tomorrow,” there’s a chorus of groans and refusals that leave the kids. Something like regret swells up because sure these were Steve’s kids first, but they were kinda yours too. You knew them before Steve and had a whole weird dynamic with them before you even knew Steve worked next door. A part of you feels like you messed up this summer by not making more of an effort with them.

“I’m sorry about this summer,” the expressions they turn your way feel like they know too much for kids who are too young to be wrapped up in your love life drama. “We’re sorry too,” Lucas tells you. “You have nothing to apologize for okay,” you look at each one of them, the look on your face leaves no room for argument. It’s always worked with the group.

“Maybe when I get home for winter break, we could all do something together?” You offer them the same olive branch that was extended to Robin. Everyone, Mike included you’re happy to note, nods their head. You find yourself ruffling Will’s hair, he’s still the closest to you. “It’s a plan,” you tell them. “I’ll let you get back to the game, make sure you keep that top spot!” Max tells you not to worry about it, a smirk already forming on her face. You give them all one last smile and make your way out of the building.

You think you’re done, and you feel as at peace as you think you can manage under the circumstances of it all. You unlock the door of your car, plans already in mind for what is left to pack up for the trip tomorrow when someone is calling out your name. You look up and find Dustin running towards you. You meet him part of the way, and he’s throwing his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. There’s a huff of surprise that forces its way out upon the impact, but you don’t hesitate as you return the hug.

His voice is muffled, and you rub soothing circles on his back. “Dustin, I can’t understand you.” You keep your voice soft like you’re talking to a startled animal. It’s just a moment before he pulls back, and you’re met with a teary face. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you this summer,” Dustin’s words are rushed and come out as almost one sound. You find yourself shushing him and pulling him in for another hug. “You’re all good, it’s okay.”

You give him a minute to just feel his big feelings before you push him back. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you find you don’t have to bend down too far to meet his gaze. You wonder when he started getting so tall and remind yourself it was probably sometime this summer.

“Dustin, I’m not mad or upset or anything okay?” You wait for him to nod along to what you’re saying. “I’m sorry you got caught up in all this,” there’s enough stress on sorry that you think it could take off like a jet with the force you’re pushing it out. “Steve and I were the adults, you shouldn’t have been caught up in the middle, okay?”

Dustin looks like he’s going to argue, “No arguments! This was between us, and we should have made that clear.” Dustin stares at you for what feels like a minute before he nods.

“I’m gonna miss you,” is what Dustin tells you next. “Keith is never gonna be as cool as you. Whose going kick all the older kids off the games for me?” You laugh, happy to see him joking with you now.

“I’m going to miss you too, kid.” You give his shoulders a squeeze, “I’m going to give you a secret, use it responsibly, okay?” Dustin gives you an excited look and nods his head quickly, “I promise,” he says.

“If Keith gives you any trouble, just tell him that you know about Lucy.” Dustin has questions you can tell. “Keith won’t ask you to tell him, he’ll be too embarrassed. If he asks how you know, then you just tell him I told you. He’ll do whatever you want.”

There’s a part of you that feels like maybe you’ve given him too much power, but Dustin’s always been a smart kid and Keith has always been a dick to him, so you don’t feel too much remorse. Someone should be benefiting from the information anyway, and Dustin feels like the right one out of the party to hold on to the information.

“With great power comes great responsibility,” You quote to him, it’s a quip he used to tell Steve all the time before you started dating. Something from a comic book if you remember correctly.

Dustin’s smile is blinding, “You were always too cool for him you know, it’s his loss.” You smile and hope it doesn’t come off as sad as it feels. “Thanks, Dustin.”

You ruffle his hair, just like you had done to Will. Dustin bats at your hands and you push him toward the arcade, “Go spend time with your friends. I’ll see you in December.”

Dustin starts to go but turns back just as quickly. “You promise?” The happiness that had been there before has been replaced with worry again. “I pinky promise,” you hold out your pinky to show him you’re serious. Dustin comes back just to seal the promise and then waves goodbye again returning to the arcade.

The next morning, when every spare inch of space in your car is covered in your belongings, you finally feel like you could actually leave this place feeling okay. Things are not at all the way you thought they would be when the summer first started. You also still feel a weird sort of dread about attending college, but it feels like you could conquer it. If you could do this, this weird limbo break-up, then you think college can’t be that bad.

Your parents aren’t going with you. Despite their excitement and all the ways they’ve pushed you into this decision, they have both told you they feel you have to do this alone. Everything is set up for you, your dad has given you a paper with your new address on it and a credit card for emergencies. You know in both their eyes they’ve done their job as your parents. They’ve paved the way for success and now it’s your responsibility to make them proud.

It feels fitting that you leave Hawkins the same way you started the summer, all alone. You tell yourself that this is what you need. You tell yourself a lot of things as you make your way to the town line. You try not to look in the rearview mirror, too afraid that you’ll see everything you’re leaving behind and change your mind. You remind yourself it’s a few months, and that you can do this. You just hope that you aren’t lying to yourself. You may not feel happy, but you also don’t feel completely numb either. Maybe that’s the right type of progress though.

[mybworlds]

Bittersweet

CHAPTER 1

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Hello people, I know there are other two ff that I already started, but I dreamt this new idea for my new ff. So I decided to write it down it. So here we are. If you want to let me know what you think about it I'd be glad to read you.

No offence pls, if you dislike it go away :)

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You always dreamed of doing something special, of being the person who would make a difference in the world….

So you hoped.

You hoped to become a great writer of romance novels, and you hoped to instill hope in the hearts of young people not to give up in the face of love and the possible obstacles that may arise.

But not all dreams come true.

In fact, you ended up working in a small bar on the outskirts of your town, surrounded by the many stories of the many diners who populate the place during the daytime or evening hours--depending on the shifts. These stories are the most different, and cannot help but feed your wild imagination.

In the evening, when you are not on shift, you write dozens and dozens of stories on your computer: some are shorts, some are very long and have happy endings, some less. It depends on your mood and how you imagine certain events you've witnessed or heard will end.

"I'm home!"

Your mother has just returned from a nearly seventy-two-hour shift at the hospital, she works in emergency medicine, and - since your father died (or at least she always said) - when she's not at home, you have to do everything, housework and bar work, grocery shopping, paying bills.

"Hi, Mom."

You absentmindedly greet her by putting down your computer glasses and crinkling your eyes in exhaustion.

"Did you buy groceries?"

The usual string of questions starts, to which you always answer with a distracted yes. You are almost 30 years old, but sometimes you feel like you are 40s or even 50s. Sometimes you think you would just like to enjoy youth, to be carefree, light-hearted, you would like to be free even to make mistakes, and instead you feel caged in this life. In a life where the only rule is you must.

"So you're okay with that?" your mother suddenly asks, making you get your feet back on the ground.

"What?" you ask confused.

"You might even listen to me for once!" blurts out Mom.

"I just got distracted for a second!" you exclaim trying to catch up.

Mom snorts, "I asked you if you were free tomorrow for your guitar lesson."

Ah yes, the exhilarating guitar lessons!

Mom, ever since Dad left (but she always said it was as if he was dead), has demanded that you take piano lessons first and guitar lessons later, like your father. You can't understand your mother, sometimes she seems to hate your father, sometimes she doesn't.

About love, you've always wanted it to be forever. Maybe it's just some romantic bullshit you always watched in movies or read in books, but you want to believe that there really exists out there for you, someone who is willing to love you for a lifetime. Too bad you haven't found anyone so far who is willing to love you the same way you love, to want you the way you want!

Going back to your guitar lessons, your teacher is a bit of a peculiar guy, a bit of a loner, a lover of many things and one opposed to the other. He's -- you don't know exactly how to define him. You've never been able to decipher him. He seems gruff, but at the same time he has a good side and probably deep down sweet.

Very deep down.

"Yes, don't worry." Mom, ever since he left, has become overprotective in some ways with you, has demanded to control you even though you are not so young anymore, wants to know what you read, what you see, what you do. It may seem normal, perhaps, for a mom to try to get to know what her child does, but not the way she does. If you are evasive for one reason for another, she becomes a hound, suffocating almost. Once she even demanded to read a chat you created with friends fearing that you might be in touch with a man much older than you, and instead she found herself a chat where you were exchanging sometimes funny and sometimes even private messages with some of your close friends from school, which even embarrassed you, but mom justified herself by saying she was doing it for you. She even banned you from driving for fear that you might have a car accident! You have a driver's license, but your mother won't even let you drive around town. She always has to be the one to drive you. These manias of hers are suffocating!

"Good. Do you have money to pay for it?" she asks you.

"Yes, don't worry," you reply, going to prepare dinner.

"We have to be very punctual or I'll be late for the hospital," she informs you.

"Do you have another night?" you ask her "It will be the fifth time in a month! But didn't there used to be shifts once even in the hospital?" you ask again as you prepare some pasta.

"Yes, but -- you know, there are only a few of us and then there are even more emergencies than usual."

You follow your mother with your eyes as you see her typing on her cell phone. Your mother sometimes looks like the young woman and you look like the mom.

What an unfair life!

The next day your life flows as usual, you get up very early, make coffee bringing it also to your mother, go to shower, get dressed and go to work.

At the café there is the usual hustle and bustle, who wants coffee, who wants a croissant, who wants a slice of pizza, who wants something else. You don't have a moment to yourself. Only when it's almost lunchtime now, you stop and go to the back of the store to eat your sandwich and smoke. Yes, you smoke. The only real transgression in your life. If your mother found out she would probably kill you, but you don't care smoking makes you feel good and maybe it makes you feel good because it's a decision you made, not because it was forced on you.

You rub one temple and look toward the road covered with a hint of snow. You wonder what you would have been doing by now if you had not been there with your mother, if maybe you were busy in college or maybe in pursuing some master's degree, you wonder who you might have been if you had dared to live your life to the fullest.

In the afternoon, your mother - after making sure you are dressed appropriately, that you have sheet music and whatnot - drops you off in front of your teacher's building.

The latter lives on the top of seven floors, it's practically a penthouse, it's beautiful place. Being with him -- a little less so.

When you knock, you are about to greet him, but a completely different man from your teacher appears in front of you. He is tall, much taller than your teacher and you, curly brown hair, dark eyes, a look that is at first grim, then curious, defined jaw line and curved nose. He is perhaps 40 years old.

You stand open-mouthed, thinking you had the wrong house for a moment, then realizing it's the right address.

"I was looking for Mr. Miller," you say.

"In person." he replies.

"Tommy Miller," you say.

"I'm his brother." he says again.

You are about to say something, but he is the one who interrupts you by asking if you are his student and calling your name, you nod in confusion.

"My brother had to leave yesterday morning. He told me you were coming and to wait for you to let you know." he clarifies by placing his hands on his hips.

He is incredibly muscular; you have never seen a man like him. He hits you right away.

"I see. Then -- I'll go." ready to leave.

You make to turn your back to him "Did Mommy tell you not to talk to strangers?" he asks making you turn back to him "I saw you get out of your mother's car." he adds noticing your confused look.

"What did you say?" you ask in annoyance.

You see him smirking and cross his arms "Are you afraid the big bad wolf will eat you?"

You wrinkle your forehead "First, I don't even know who you are." you say moving a couple of steps closer to him "And second…"

"Joel." he introduces himself by extending his hand.

"You're creepy -- Joel," you say looking first at his hand and then at his face.

"You, on the other hand, are shy." he notes looking at you and running his gaze over your figure. No one has ever looked at you like this. Making your skin warmed. "Yes, you are a shy little one." he adds, smiling and making wrinkles appear on the sides of his eyes.

"Your brother is definitely nicer," you say.

Lie. Tommy has always been very much on his own.

He just bends his head to the side, "Funny, people always told me I'm the nice one of the Miller brothers."

Gotcha.

"Well, maybe they never really knew you!"

"And you in less than a minute figured out who am I?" he asks, leaving you speechless.

No, you know very well that you cannot judge anyone in less than a minute. If someone had judged you in less than a minute they probably would have dismissed you as an ordinary young woman, lacking dreams of her own, trivial.

Perhaps the same thing applies to the man in front of you, Joel Miller.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/30/2024

a good 60% of my brain is screaming in unemployment terror at all times so these will be somewhat abbreviated until that situation resolves itself

listening

sleeping on the ceiling by friday pilots club. this is a song by a five-piece alt-rock band from chicago that could EASILY open for mid-aughts fall out boy. i would like to think it is from the point of view of a freshly-turned vampire. listen this slot isn't about the best song i heard this week it's about the one that got stuck in my head the most

Hey, I swear I'm okay Honey, I been sleepin' on the ceiling all day Yes way, like hey I swear I feel great Looky, looky, love the feeling of being okay Yes way

spotify.

reading

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider and the Amulet of Power by Mike Resnick. it was in a dollar book bin and i got it as a joke gift for a friend. mike resnick is a remarkably prolific writer who's done a lot of tie-ins. i don't have anything particularly notable to say about his star wars books but they are a sort of minimum viable product? they feel star warsy and don't annoy me on every page.

this book was published in 2003 and treats the people of the Nile delta and their beliefs with all the delicacy you might expect from a 2003 video game tie in novel. i do think the twist is being telegraphed way too hard. perhaps i should say instead of sending a telegram mr resnick has simply set the telegraph office ablaze as a signal fire. the titular triangle-pointed woman herself ms croft is VERY insistent she's just as good as the boys. this is pretty on par for my experience of 2003 empowering womens' feminism AND my experience in a male-dominated field so i can't really ding it too hard? aside from the racism, in the notably racism-free fields of archaeology and video games and archaeology video games, this book is aging a little strangely overall. i do not know if i will finish it before i mail it out to my friend, but despite its sins it is a very fast read.

watching

watched the four dungeon meshi episodes. it's cute! ProzD was an unexpected delight! it made me want to make something fancy for dinner but alas i still have to go food shopping!

some posts on my dash were talking about how the episode with the mollusks inside the living armor really got them hooked and i have to agree. i also saw the full potential of the show's speculative biology unspooling before me. i don't know if i currently have the brainwidth for the manga but it is going on my reading list for after i finish berserk. which is kind of like saying i'm going to watch chopped after i finish up hannibal

playing

forgot i had an original gen switch, given to me through a complex series in a complex series of friend barters back in uhhhh late '21? early '22? i got through 3/4 of the divine beasts the first time around and then could not crack the camel. it was well past time to create a new switch profile so i could start a new game without losing the old one.

omg twinnsssssssss

i did forget how goddamn big the map is. i have just now unlocked the camera and the memory quests, i have not really. done much more than basic tutorial and beginning of game stuff.

making

anxiously junebugging between a whole bunch of shit. finally figured out the correct charger/extension cord setup for my bedroom. replaced all the fluorescent lightbulbs and took them to be recycled. fixed the hall door enough so it latches closed and an irritated cat can't claw it open. tidied up the balcony and patio and repotted the surviving houseplants.

in textile news, started this cross stitch. this is a Bless This Wretched Hive of Scum and Villainy Star Wars themed sampler, i have made two as gifts and had to throw out a mostly-completed one i made for me bc of the moths. but i now know exactly where this will go in this apartment and i already have the frame and i bought all the floss pre-being fired, so might as well? the real bitch of the situation here is backstitching the buildings. it's so start and stop. it's so much tan. i talked about this on the weekly siblingchat facetime and now my brother has requested one lmao. that's his christmas gift settled. i suppose.

i had somehow forgotten how loadbearing textile crimes are for me. i haven't done much of anything since the moth debacle, and that was almost two years ago. last night i found some suspicious holes in a camisole and i'm really really hoping it's just cat claws and not moths or carpet beetles or any other fun things that eat clothes.

[poomphuripan]

Do you have any show recommendations for this weekend? Or anything catches your attention for the next couple months? My stand in has been raising the bar so much, none of the currently aired shows are worth watching T.T 4 minutes seems alright but they have like 8 episodes only, I’m so afraid to get hopes up

hi nonnie (❁´◡`❁)

fridays are so dull without my stand-in i know, also saturday too when wandee gooday ends this week (┬┬﹏┬┬). but there are some very good series about to start soon and currently airing... perhaps you can give these a try?

Century Of Love - magical realism, action, romance, comedy

Synopsis: San is faithfully devoted to his love. He has spent his life waiting for his lost beloved, Wat, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But when the darkness of the night looms, he will be forcibly afflicted by the power of the five shades stone. If he fails to find Wat within this century's time window, he will inevitably succumb to a tragic death for eternity. The final year of the century is about to end before the stone's power turns into his eternal curse. He meets Vee, a frivolous, charming adonis who seems connected to his life. San is appalled by Vee at first sight, but this unrelated boy is actually his beloved Wat, whom he has been anticipating for almost a century.

my thoughts so far: it's really fun, quite fast paced (understandably since there's only 10 eps and there are 2 eps airing each week), the chemistry is fantastic, as expected of daouoffroad.

Meet You At The Blossom - wuxia, romance

Synopsis: Jin Xiao Bao, the son of the wealthiest man in the Jiangnan region, falls in love with icy, white-clothed beauty Huai En due to an unexpected meeting. This young woman he sees as his future wife, however, seems to have aroused a lot of enmity. When he comes to the rescue of an injured Huai En, who's tainted by an aphrodisiac, the true identity of this beauty is revealed.

my thoughts so far: i haven't caught up with the latest ep but first two eps have been fun. it's adapted from the debut novel of shui qian cheng who wrote professional body double aka my stand in novel so you can see similar traits of her typical scum ml in huai en. the actors are probably rookie so the acting leaves much to be desired and a lot of room for improvement in that aspect but supporting it anyway since it's the first uncensored wuxia bl freed from censorship limbo.

Currently these two are the only "pure" BL series i'm watching because most of the time i just end up rewatching series i already know and love. I'm always on a casual Nadao/GDH rewatch, so if you haven't seen these before, I highly recommend them, not QL but they're fun nonetheless.

Great Men Academy - magical realism, unicorn hijinks, body transformation, queer

Synopsis: Love has always been a fan of the popular guy Vier of the famous Great Men Academy but has never had the chance to meet him. One day, she sees the mystical unicorn rumored to fulfill wishes and wished for her love for Vier to get a chance. Unfortunately the unicorn interpreted her wishes in a different way and Love wakes up to find herself… as a guy?

my thoughts: i have watched this series more than 20 times in full, and lost count of the times i've casually rewatched certain eps. it's just super wholesome and TANGMO BEST BOY! watch this for tangmo best boi, you shall not be let down by scene stealer tangmo and his 5 minutes screentime.

Bad Genius The Series - academic rivalry, heist, thriller, drama

Synopsis: Lin, a genius high school student who makes money by cheating tests, receives a new task that leads her to set foot on Sydney, Australia. In order to complete the millions-Baht task, Lin and her classmates have to finish the international STIC (SAT) exam and deliver the answers back to her friends in Thailand before the exam takes place once again in her home country.

my thoughts: if someone asked me what is the most perfect thai series i've ever watched, i would choose this series in a heart beat. bad genius the series is one of the rarest case where i genuinely believe a series remake has outdone its film predecessor (worth noting that one same studio produced both). it's got the perfect amount of angst and tension and cinematography style that i adore. if you want a breath of fresh air, i HIGHLY recommend this series for a change from all the other ql series airing.

ps: if you can't find official links to watch the two series above, don't feel bad about watching them in unofficial/grey websites because the original platform they were on shut down 2 years ago ಥ_ಥ they're literally my hidden gems but i don't want to gatekeep them any longer

for upcoming series, i'm thinking of starting The Trainee and I Saw You In My Dream and 4 Minutes. But I usually try to take breaks in-between series I have huge hyperfixation on like I Feel You Linger In The Air or My Stand-In like right now and I just rewatch low stake series I already love like Lovely Writer or some series I mentioned above.

i'm really sorry if this isn't much help because you're talking to someone who rarely watch new series unless they get a random urge and motivation to sit through a 30+ eps lakorn just for one actor. but i hope you found a motivation to watch one of the series i recommended above if you've been thinking about any of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

[padfootagain]

Where We Kept Our Magic (III)

How We Met Again

Hello lovelies! Here is a second part for my Muggle!Reader AU!! I hope you like this new scene, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 2175

Masterlist for the series - Sirius Black's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

A couple of weeks have passed, and Sirius misses you. And he hates it. He is surprised by it, too. The feeling has come out of the blue, unexpected and unwanted as it settled in his ribcage, carved his way into his heart.

He doesn’t understand it at all. He’s had only a couple of dates with you, spent two afternoons in your company, and this evening at the concert. He doesn’t know that much about you. He doesn’t know how you drink your tea, what you eat for breakfast, the colour of your eyes under the rain. And it’s making things worse, because he wants to know. He longs to ask you what’s your favourite flower and your favourite colour and how you drink your coffee…

And whenever he closes his eyes, he sees yours, wide open, so close to him, staring into his soul. And he can taste your lips on his tongue again, smell your perfume in the air…

He huffs, annoyed. He’s being ridiculous. You weren’t even together, you’ve shared a few hours and a kiss. You weren’t even his first kiss. Was he yours?

He pushes the thought away, sits up as if it’ll help his brain thinking other thoughts. It doesn’t.

“If I hear you sigh one more time, Pads, I’ll hex you so hard you’ll be sent to Antarctica.”

“You really do have to hang out less with Evans, you’re stealing her silly threats now.”

“I want to punch you in the face so hard.”

“Better, sounds more like you.”

In James’s bedroom, the sun pours in golden hues, fresh and clean and too warm. It almost burns, despite its travel through the windowpane.

Sirius is sitting on the ground, and James is splayed on his bed, a novel in his hand that he disregards in favour of his best friend.

“You really have to see her again.”

“Why? She doesn’t want to see me.”

“She doesn’t want a fling. She literally wants to see you too much for the two of you to be a meaningless fling.”

“And that’s impossible. We’ve been through this already.”

“Clearly we need to go through this one more time, because you’re still mopping…”

“I am not…”

“You are. You miss her.”

Sirius remains quiet, his back resting against James’s bed.

“You should try to see her again.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to look, I don’t know her address.”

“As if it could stop the Marauders.”

Sirius can’t refrain a tender smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. You three are as mad as I am.”

“That’s why you love us so much!” James laughs, nudging Sirius with his knee.

“Fuck off, or I’ll break your kneecaps!”

“And risk mom’s wrath? I believe you.”

Sirius merely chuckles, hiding behind a snicker the way his heart inflated with fondness. James isn’t calling Euphemia his mother anymore, but their mom. True brothers…

“She’s a muggle. We’ll leave for Hogwarts in a couple of months and…”

“Yes, I know,” James rolled his eyes. “You kind of repeat yourself these days.”

“It would be too complicated.”

“Perhaps she’s worth the complication.”

“That comes from a guy who definitely likes complications when it comes to girls…”

Sirius doesn’t finish his sentence, he’s hit by a pillow instead.

“Anyway, what I was saying is… you should try anyway. You’re missing her already.”

“That’s the whole point… what if I fall for her? Like… really fall for her?”

“Your life will get immensely more complicated. And you’ll love every second of it.”

“You and your bloody romantic antics…”

“Ha, yes, I had forgotten how our good old Padfoot is full of cynicism these days.”

Sirius checks the time, and he’s happy to offer a distraction from the current conversation. After all, James and he have to hurry up if they don’t want to be late to meet Remus and Peter at Green Park.

Still, when he’s tying his shoes, he’s still thinking about that smile of yours.

Summer is too warm this year, you wish for a fresh breeze to cool your skin, your head and your heart.

You’re still thinking about Sirius. You haven’t said a word of it to Jackie, besides telling her that it was over, that you were right and that Sirius didn’t want anything serious. It was hopeless, it would remain a silly crush on a stranger at a concert.

Your heart has other plans though. Because it aches just thinking about him. You can feel his lips on yours and your skin burns at the memory. You see his stormy eyes over and over again at night.

You miss him. You hate that fact, but you can’t deny the truth of it. You miss him, you want to see him again. Even if it means getting your life immensely complicated, even if it means letting him break your heart.

You don’t talk about it, though. What would be the point, anyway? Instead, you merely look sadder than usual, look at the sun through your sunglasses even if you shouldn’t, and try to breathe despite the longing in your chest.

Jackie has managed to drag you to Green Park, despite your terrible mood. She even managed to make you laugh, God knows how. You’re thankful for it, even if you hate it.

You’re lying in the grass, Jackie by your side is reading while you look through the branches at the blue sky and the burning sun. Your world is tainted pink by your sunglasses. You love it.

The park is busy, but you don’t mind. The unregular noises around you are numbed by the grass under you, the branches swaying gently, the superposition and mingling of voices. In the end, you barely notice the noise at all.

And it’s all relaxing, and for the first time in two weeks, your mind wanders not towards Sirius’s grey eyes but the shape of the leaves above you and you wonder how soft they can be up there, caressed only by the wind, before their fall.

Your quiet thoughts are interrupted though, by a frisbee landing right onto your stomach. You’re startled as it passes before your face and the next second rests on your abdomen; you let out a little shriek, that makes Jackie jump as well.

You sit up in a hurry, fumbling with the plastic toy. Damn, what kind of idiotic twat is clumsy enough to throw their frisbee on people…

You turn around, ready to throw hands with the culprit… when you’re left blinking instead.

A boy in a dark t-shirt is running towards you, freezing as he recognizes you.

Bullocks…

“Y/N?”

Sirius blinks. Once, twice, thrice, but you’re still here, sitting in the grass. He can’t help the smile that forms on his lips.

You look so beautiful, so adorable with your pink glasses…

“I…”

You look down at the frisbee, hand it over to him in a hurry without meeting his eyes.

“Oh, yeah… sorry about that. James is terrible at this game. He’s wearing his glasses, and still can’t aim for shit.”

His attempt at humour is met by a heavy silence and a terrible drop of his heart.

He looks down, cheeks burning, and not only because of his run. He takes the frisbee with a quiet thanks and is ready to walk away again when…

“Hey! Isn’t that your girl, Padfoot?”

You see Sirius wincing as a tall boy with glasses runs to him, half jumping on Sirius’s back as he comes to a stop by his side.

He shoots you and Jackie a grin.

“Hi! I’m James! And you must be Y/N!”

You nod, but can’t seem to find your voice. Jackie introduces herself, struggling not to laugh at you as you steal glances towards Sirius but look away every time his eyes meet yours. Meanwhile, Remus and Peter have joined the small group, introduced themselves, and are now quietly laughing at Sirius’s flushed cheeks, along with the fact that he can’t look away from you.

He's missed you. So terribly. He was a fool. He wants you so badly. He can recall the taste of your lips, and he longs for it now more than ever.

But he shakes himself out of his trance as he hears Remus asking if they can join you and your friend.

“These idiots have never played frisbee before, and I’m tired of trying to teach them. They’re desperate cases, at this point.”

“Thanks, Moony,” James mumbles under his breath, along with something about talent and a weird word… quid… something. You guess it must be a Scottish sport, as Sirius said he went to school there.

Why is he going to a school so far from home though?

You shake yourself. You don’t care. You don’t care about Sirius, about his friends, about their school, or about how the sun shines on Sirius’s magnificent eyelashes. You are about to decline the offer when Jackie grins and accepts… the traitor…

And you hate the rest of this afternoon. You hate it because everything goes smoothly. Sirius’s friends are a little weird but hilarious and nice. And Sirius is a little quieter than usual, but you’ve noticed the way his eyes linger on you, the way he can’t help staring…

And you hate it because you long for his gaze on you. Because you let your eyes drift towards his frame too. Because you feel happy and excited now that he’s near again. Because you want to kiss the cigarette taste away from his lips as he puffs out some smoke.

He catches you smiling dreamily as you look at his earing shining in the summer sun, and you hate the smirk that forms across his features as you shy away under his stare.

Damn, this charming boy…

And the afternoon passes too quickly, too soon already the sun has begun setting, and the park is about to close. You need to go home, and you don’t want to. You need to say farewell to Sirius all over again, and you don’t want to. And you hate him for that…

But as you’re about to part, about to say goodbye to turn around and never see him again, Sirius reaches for your hand, stare too intense to let you escape.

“Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, but nod anyway.

And you hate the look Jackie throws at you, the knowing kind. You hate everything about today. You hate the softness of Sirius’s palm, the gentleness of his hold as he pulls you away from the group, the warmth of his skin spreading under yours.

You hate everything about him. You hate him… you hate him…

When he turns around, a wild strand of hair swings across his cheek, escaping from his bun, and you hate it too. You hate how good he looks right now, how you long to reach out and brush the hair behind his ear…

“Can I be brutally honest?”

He stares at you intensely again, and there’s confidence in his stature, in the way he leans towards you, in the urgency of his tone. Still, his voice trembles.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I want you.”

Your eyes grow round at that, and you hate him. You hate him because you like hearing these words coming from his mouth, because you want nothing but to kiss him…

“I know that last time we… we decided not to see each other again, but… the truth is, I want you. And I… I want us to give it a shot.”

“Sirius, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know, but…”

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I have.”

You stop breathing altogether, your heart skips a few beats, and you hate it. You hate it so much you want to cry.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want to try this.”

“Are you playing with me?”

“No, I’m not.”

And you hate the fact that you can read in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“I want to try. I like you. A lot. And… these past couple of weeks… and seeing you again today, I’ve realized… I want to give this a try. Let’s go on another date.”

“But Sirius…”

“Give me another chance,” he interrupts you, taking a step closer. “Please… please give me another chance.”

And you want to say no. You want to slap him and you hate him because you’ve been hoping, dreaming of this moment even, and desperately so. And you hate yourself because you want to say yes, and you can’t help the words that pass your lips even if they’re so unbearably unwise.

“Okay,” you nod. “But you won’t get a third.”

He grins.

“Friday?”

Slowly, you nod.

“Friday.”

Before you can ask where you will meet, Sirius has reached up to cup your face, and has crushed his lips to yours.

And as you lose your fingers through his hair and melt into his arms, you love every second of it…

*************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @hells-escapees @cloudbroomblog @omgrachwrites

[moviemunchies]

Both critics and audiences loved this movie, though it didn’t do as well as hoped (even though it wasn’t a complete flop) because it ran against the unexpected juggernaut that was The Fault in Our Stars.

Anyway! I thought it was about time that I saw this movie.

Edge of Tomorrow is Groundhog Day but in a war against an alien invasion. There, I saved some time.

Or…. okay, so it goes like this: the world is invaded by seemingly unstoppable aliens called mimics, who quickly take over continental Europe. The war is not going well. Major William Cage works for the military, but only as a guy promoting recruitment. When he’s sent towards the front during an assault across the English Channel, he tries to weasel out of it. It doesn’t work! He’s sent back as a private, and promptly gets killed.

Except then he wakes up at the beginning of the previous day. He’s stuck in a time loop! And he gets killed in battle repeatedly, until a run-in with war hero Rita Vrataski, the Angel of Verdun. She tells him to find her when he wakes up. He does so, and discovers that Rita has also previously went through a time loop, which is how she got so good at killing Mimics. She’s hoping to guide him and end the war once and for all.

Once again, I am not familiar with the source material, a Japanese novel called All You Need Is Kill.

I believe I have reviewed two other time-loop movies on this blog? I’ve done Palm Springs and Groundhog Day. And all of them have different takes on the idea: one is a comedy about a reporter in a small town, another is set during a wedding weekend, and this one is in a war with aliens. Or, in short, it’s an action movie. And DANG is it good as an action movie. Lots of shooting, explosions, and our heroes fighting their way through hordes of enemies. The time-loop bit makes it feel a lot like a video game, especially with areas that you can’t quite get past because you don’t know how to beat certain enemies.

[The Librarians has an episode like this, I think? The video game concept?]

Of course, the makers of the film had the sense to realize that we didn’t have to see every single cycle of the loop. When we come across situations that are new to us, we are often surprised to learn that they’re not new to Cage, who has only gotten this far in the previous scenario. Watching the same attempts over and over again would be really grating, and would make the entire film really tiring to watch, in the same way that getting killed over and over again at the same part of a video game is incredibly annoying to go through.

And Cage is clearly very frustrated by his situation, especially bonding with Rita and seeing her fail over and over again, often in death. Which makes an interesting dynamic, because on her end, she’s only known him for about a day, whereas Cage has to go through this several dozen times. I’m not thrilled with the notion that this would lead to romance, which the ending suggests, but it’s also not wildly out there.

I do understand that watchers may be annoyed that this might feel, once again, like that action movie trope of a woman who is incredibly capable, but doesn’t get to be the hero and has to guide a man to that place. It’s not like Rita is a nobody in this movie, though, she does contribute quite a bit to the action throughout. YMMV on whether she still should have been the hero, though.

[This movie did re-jump start Emily Blunt’s career, though. She was going to really get going in the Marvel Cinematic Universe as Black Widow, but had to pass because contractual obligations made her star in… Gulliver’s Travels. She got back in the action game with this movie, though.]

A problem this movie definitely has, though, is that I have no idea how Mimics work. Like, we get explanations on how they’re directed and led, but I mean… why are they called ‘Mimics’? And given how their bodies look, why does shooting them (albeit, shooting them a lot) seem to work? I wish we got a better grasp of what these aliens were like before the action really got started.

Edge of Tomorrow is, in my opinion, a darn good action movie. It’s also a demonstration of the kinds of cool things you can do with time loops, and science-fiction films in general. If you like action and science-fiction, you should try out this movie for the way it cleverly utilizes the time loop concept.

[variousqueerthings]

@yugiohio #op youre in good company as most people interpret this film as a queer coming of age film. myself included.#i saw it for the first time in my early teens and it impacted me in a way i have never been able to articulate.#ive reserved it from the library so many times. i have the movie downloaded to my computer. i made myself posters.#im still trying to find the dvd. im still trying to find the novel and manga. i love these girls and the way they love each other so much.#anywayyyyy you didnt ask for any of this but this movie is just so important to me and I'm so so so happy youve discovered it#and that youre posting content from it

hope it's okay to put this here, if not will edit the post, buuuut i usually do a little post-movie decompression and your tags are a great place to start it:

i have had this on my letterboxd to watch for awhile, and was tipped over the edge when the director of a play im in said "so there's a biker gang and one of the girls is obsessed with rococo" i cannot tell you what about that description charmed me so much i had to watch it immediately, but hey, sometimes you know that It's Time

i was kind of expecting a really serious film, and it turned out much more like a sweet queer romcom of that early 2000s lesbian flavour (meaning that most of them don't end up more than subtext, but the text in this one is... very text. they pretend they're about to kiss in the end-credits sequence type text)

was fun to accidentally land on another film that's about Style and Taste and The Soundtrack Being Cool, because i watched empire records and then young soul rebels these last couple of days, so clearly that's the theme of this little unexpected watching time

but seriously this film is really Cool, first and foremost, and it's got a fascinating set of philosophies in it about style (especially clothes) that surprised me, because you don't get a lot of cinema celebrating style without at least giving a cautionary "but watch out lest you become Shallow!" i really enjoyed that the arc of this one was "actually i am great at making clothes and im really capable actually, but i'd much rather buy clothes and look pretty in order to be a true rococo woman! the most important thing is dedication to Style! (and ichigo)"

like, her ethos really is high femme camp -- she's there to look beautiful and she enjoys that and she does it on her own terms, and specifically the only person she enjoys making for is... ichigo

and consequently, while she absolutely dresses for herself, there is also a sense that the only person whose opinion she values is also ichigo, and ichigo treats her exactly how she wants to be treated -- when momoko faints, she runs to her and cradles her head, she takes her out on her bike at the end, she's the strong badass to momoko's sweet prettiness

but then in another fun subversion, momoko is the one constantly looking out for ichigo -- she has the clothes she needs (and sells them for cheap), she embroiders her jacket after going a full day on a search for a person we later find out doesn't exist, she wins all the money, she comes for her when ichigo is in danger of getting seriously hurt and saves her, she gets offered a job based on her competencies that later on gives ichigo an opportunity (ironically to look pretty, which... she really really is beautiful) (although they both turn them down after getting a taste of it, they'd much rather roll around on a bike together). ichigo says at the end that she'll simply never be out of her debt, and that makes momoko smile, like yeah, that means they'll have to stay together forever

idk this movie is just so Cool and so Fun and soooo so gay

i also note that the single mild no-homo is so immaterial that watching it i wasn't actually sure if it wasn't about akimi, who was introduced as this beautiful vision that changed ichigo's life back in the day and now it turns out that not only is she engaged to this man, she's pregnant and leaving the gang, shifting ichigo's whole axis -- the framing is on her, she was introduced with the In Love/Lesbian Awakening Gaze, she's the reason ichigo is who she is, and the catalyst for why ichigo eventually leaves the gang (the other catalyst being momoko + the slightly less focused-on one of "not liking the direction it's going in"). it's got such a "im a teenager and upset about this but i cannot say why, it must be because im in love with this guy i barely know and because uh... i don't respect the new leader's vision!"

i think this film also carries a certain kind of vibe that reminds me of streets of fire, that is, in some ways it feels much more like a myth or a fairytale, because everything is so extravagant and yet slightly vague (and i mean that positively). we're being introduced to the origins of a myth of these two people who travel the roads in cool clothes and set biker gangs right, like. Urgh it's so Cool!

and the animation i didnt even mention the animation but it's got Cool Animation too!!!!

it's funny, i tend to land hard on the "gets obsessed with more masc characters" (wow wonder why) but in this one -- while of course they're both great and that's the point -- i was absolutely enamoured with momoko. her casual cynicism, her confusion about why she suddenly cares about one (1) person, her absolute dedication to The Vibe that is her whole being, her seemingly being completely unaware of just how easily she can draw people to her. just, the Power that is momoko (and now she's got the muscle of ichigo, nothing can stop them)

[calamitoustide]

Regulus has been a dancer since he was young. Sirius did it too but he quit as soon as he could. Regulus never did though. He loved it. He'd dance around his room careful of creaking floorboards if only to feel the air between his limbs. Even after he left home he moved on to doing it professionally. His entire life was work there was nothing else until he walked into a random coffee shop to get out of the rain and met James.

They were everything to each other since the very first day, and that never changed. They loved furiously and forever. It was a love that would go on long past whatever they were. They lived together in an apartment James filled with pointless things and Regulus rolled his eyes at all of it and yet still noticed when any of them went missing. They were on their way to marriage... and then Regulus slipped during one of his routines and the injury that it brought made it so he'd never dance again.

James tried to cling to him but Regulus was already gone. He lost the first good thing he could ever rely on and soon the rest was slipping through his fingers.

It had been years since their break up and James still couldn't forget about how Regulus' forehead crinkled when he was worried, or the way he laughed and called James ridiculous for every little thing that he did. He couldn't forget the night neither of them could sleep so James convinced Regulus to teach him to dance in their dark kitchen. James kept stepping on Regulus toes but he just kept laughing.

He wrote poems trying to capture the moment. He took painting classes to try to capture the true essence of Regulus' love. He wrote a novel with scrawling ink and yet none of it worked. Nothing truly felt as the love he felt for Regulus.

Until one day he discovered a choreographer and handed her over all his work. It was a long shot really he was sure nothing would come of it, and then she found him again to show him a performance that brought him to tears. It felt like dancing in the kitchen. It felt like the first snow fall of the season, unexpected and brilliantly beautiful. It felt like Regulus.

And so he put all his money into it to put it on. He hired actors and watched as they found their spots on the floor. He listened to the score as he sat in the audience and felt tears fall down his cheeks. He made sure everything was perfect and set for the night of it opening. He sent an invitation to Regulus not even knowing if the address was correct. He just had to do it anyway for the very chance of him coming.

On opening night he stood behind the curtain as everyone piled in and saw Regulus in the audience. He hadn't seen him in years, but he looked as beautiful as he looked on the day of their meeting.

As the performance went on and ended James' tears became Regulus' as they met eyes once more.

[colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl]

Happy Everything....

No I'm not gone... Just Busy... Busy... Busy... But eh, what else has changed/is new.

Happy Belated mothers day to all you wonderful mothers whether that's Furbabies/Feathered babies or of the little kid kind.

I have to admit I gave the most Mothers Day/Early/Belated Mother's Day Hugs I have in a long while thanks to my new work. My prior work really didn't allow this unless someone initiated it first.... So it kinda was amazing. i can also thank a unexpected coworker to help me break past these long held barriers on a job and branch out into more personal means in my line of work.

I know I keep leaving Busy messages but I mean it. I'm sorry for any birthdays and Holiday wishes I've missed giving out since my last update.

Like I said I hope to make more a update comic then spelling things all out here to keep it short.

I admit I probably felt some Winter Drawls and well was getting used to the energy I was using weekly. (I'm walking like 13,000-20,000 steps at least four times a week which means I'm getting over the recommended 40,000 steps a week walking for exercise...) So that said been loosing wait and growing back muscles I really hadn't realized lost their oomph a while ago.... back. So my off days were trying to get a normal flow and used to days not expending so much energy.

There were good and some emotionally draining things that happened but mostly I've moved passed the negative.

Other updates, had an amazing date with a guy I've been in communications with for a while. I think it went well and we're looking to going on more. Although our schedules really are iffy for such I think we both want to make it work. He's a fellow writer which is kinda how we connected and our love for certain themes. And honestly after our first date while I was worried about this or that, it was the first time in a while that I've dated a guy who held a conversation even more then me, and didn't make me in some way feel weird on a first date... Actually scratch that first guy in my history of dating since at least late high school, who on the first date didn't give me any creepy vibes or make me question what I thought a date should be like or how one interacts on them. Since the early days even talking with him my way of talking with him for no reason just seems so natural. I'm not sure I'm smitten exactly, I'm still trying to figure it out. But, honestly this guys a breath of fresh air in the several/manyish first dates I've had...

So sometimes my focus was on some more personal matters then working on art. I've done little things. And as I plan to address in my update comic eventually (Hopefully I get to it and release it in the next few weeks or months). Honestly, whats taking the time is this is just a big project and when I started I knew that, but as it's grown I realize it's going to take time. I've centered my attention to focusing on chapters, namely the early ones I still have a family member with connections who wishes to read. I've been focusing on cleaning these up most which takes time. I'm really happy with the story STRY has become and has grown into.

I do plan to release art work, and stuff in the future again. It's just been a little slow while I've adapted to my new schedule.

I have ideas of either in the near future or closer to the the comic and some chapter releases to hype up the book (and I mean of course creating the comic in release itself too) in the early parts of the books finality or even the comic chapter releases (and novel chapter releases) to have "OUT OF CONTEX" meme post releases. It's a recent concept I've come up with to keep things going between stuff. But I also don't want to do this so much that I risk giving away to much even if one liners... OR risk running out of memable out of context stuff to use/or boring you with too much to soon or all at once... (Hopefully that makes sense).

Anyways another long update out of the way. I hope to see you soon. I do plan to release my art from last year soon I kept promising. It's just gotta finish the last few touches and such...

Otherwise...

See you guys soon.

Take care

TALK AGAIN SOON!

[s-ar-a]

My Very First Isekai Manhwa

I still remember the day I stumbled across “The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke’s Mansion.” And niw it even has an anime of it's own. i'm feeling ephemeral. I wasn’t a seasoned manhwa reader back then, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But I was curious. The cover looked elegant(especially Noah)

The story opens with Raeliana, who is thrown into something unexpected. She’s reincarnated into a novel as a side character who is fated to die, and not in some grand, heroic way—just an unfortunate pawn in someone else’s story. That simple premise was enough to catch my attention because i started wondering how she would supposedly change her fate.

What made this manhwa feel special from the start was Raeliana herself. She’s sharp, determined, and unwilling to accept the hand she’s been dealt. She doesn’t wallow in her situation; she immediately begins plotting how to survive. I admired that. She wasn’t just a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued, and I wasn’t just a passive reader following along—I felt like I was part of her journey

And then there’s Noah Wynknight, the Duke she strikes a deal with :). I didn’t know what to make of him at first, except that he was hot. He’s powerful, mysterious, and far too smooth for his own good (so very smooth), yet he has this air of unpredictability that kept me intrigued. Their relationship starts as a mere business arrangement ("a pretend marriage" the usual trope), with Raeliana using Noah to survive, because Raeliana could give him something he was looking for. But as you keep reading, their interactions grow warmer, the slow-burn romance starts to unfold, and suddenly, you realize you’re smiling like a fool at their banter, eagerly waiting for the next scene with just the two of them.

Before this, I hadn’t given much thought to the historical romance genre. I had no idea how much I’d enjoy the blend of politics, intrigue, and romance. The lavish ball gowns, the court politics, the tension of societal rules—all these elements created a setting that felt grand and alive. It wasn’t just a backdrop for romance alone

But what really surprised me was how emotionally invested I became. The manhwa isn’t just about romance or avoiding death. It’s about choice. It’s about power dynamics, trust, and navigating a world where every decision could change the course of someone’s life. Watching Raeliana maneuver through these challenges with wit and courage made me care about her survival in a way I didn’t expect

I also have to give a nod to the stunning art. It felt like each panel was meticulously designed to draw you deeper into the world. The art itself made the historical setting come alive in a way that’s hard to describe until you’ve seen it for yourself

Looking back, Raeliana was the gateway that opened me up to a whole new world of historical manhwas and romances. The plot was smart, the romance slow but meaningful, and the setting rich . After finishing it, I found myself seeking out more stories with similar themes

It wasn’t just my first manhwa; it was my introduction to a genre that’s since become one of my favorites. Raeliana gave me a taste of how powerful storytelling can be in a historical setting, and how romance, when done right, can leave you yearning for more.

If you’re someone who’s never dipped their toes into manhwa or historical romance, you probably read it. For me, it was the start of a new reading obsession—and I haven’t looked back since.

[heartbreakslow]

da$h watch 2x07-2x08

"Are you sniffing glue? What are you doing with this lot?....no offense..."

2x07. For the sake of misdirection we see Darren leaving St. Bruno's, thanking a shirtless Dusty for something "unexpected."

Darren hasn't been at home for two days, and Cash is talking to Harper, who doesn't have any patience for him but says that yelling at him would only make him feel better. Cash explains that he only did it so none of them would have to see Chook again. He swears on his nan that it's over (please don't be foreshadowing), and Harper finally says, "Okay."

Meanwhile, Darren appears in the doorway saying they were at their mom's house. Cash, extremely relieved, starts to breathlessly explain: "I should've been straight with you, I'm sorry I wasn't, but I didn't want to drag you into it and Chook said--"

Darren interrupts, saying they already read his text and he doesn't have to go over it. Cash tries to start talking again but they cut him off again, saying they just want to forget about it and they need to take a shower.

Darren is at the library, perusing the novel Too Much Lip. Cash comes up and tells them they can look through his whole phone to confirm he's not hiding anything else.

Darren can't lie any longer; they tell him they weren't at their mom's, they were at St. Bruno's. Cash immediately thinks of Jacob. Darren explains they did go there to see Jacob, but ended up staying with Dusty. Cash: "Please tell me you didn't hook up." Darren says they just smoked weed, talked, and played video games. Cash asks if they would have slept with Jacob if he was there. Darren says, "I’m sorry. I guess we both did a shitty thing and now we can move on."

At the assembly, Sasha says “we all know trust is key in a relationship” as Cash side eyes Darren (who isn’t sitting with him).

Dusty comes back to his room at St. Bruno’s; the door is open and Cash is sitting on his bed.

Cash looks very hostile during the whole conversation. Dusty asks why he’d hook up with Darren and Cash says “I don’t know, maybe ‘cause you have a track record of fucking people when they’re vulnerable?” Dusty says the two of them were best friends in primary school and if they were going to hook up they already would have. Cash asks what the two of them talked about. Dusty says “you. Darren says you’re ace.” Cash angrily says “fuck you, that’s…” but Dusty gives him a look and Cash finishes, “I don’t know, maybe.”

Dusty says “Darren’s way into sex” and Cash says the two of them have found ways to make it work, but Dusty says it’s only working for Cash, not for Darren. He says Darren has to jerk off before breakfast and after Cash falls asleep, and that information seems to affect Cash—“they told you that?”

Dusty concludes, “don’t you think you’re being a bit selfish asking them to give it up?” Cash says “fuck this” and sneers that he broke Dusty’s lock, but as soon as he's alone, he looks like he’s going to cry.

Darren is washing up in the bathroom after the food fight when Cash appears and says, “I know you didn’t hook up with Dusty.” Darren starts to apologize for “being a bitch yesterday” but Cash says in a strained voice, “I obviously can’t give you what you need.”

Darren protests that that’s not true, but Cash says, “then why’d you go looking for sex?” Darren says, “I was drunk and horny—you made me feel bad and I wanted to feel good.”

Cash says “you should feel good” and starts saying that Darren’s sexuality is who they are, and he loves them for who they are, and they’ll never be “free to be that person” while they’re with him. He’s borderline crying the whole time and Darren also starts crying since Cash is obviously breaking up with them. Darren starts saying that they’re really trying to shut it off and “if sex is killing our relationship, I will kill sex.” They ask how they can prove to Cash that they only want him, and he says, “you can’t.”

Darren approaches Zoe and tells her that they want to join the Puriteens, to her delight. Darren is a big get!

2x08. Darren has joined the Puriteens, but isn't fitting in too well since they jerked off 53 minutes ago (everyone else has gone weeks or months). Amerie is shocked but Darren explains that "I lost Cash because I can't control my urges" and maybe if they can stop wanting sex, “we’ll get back together and everything will be okay.”

At prom, Darren and the Puriteens are going around telling people not to have sex and giving them handmade valentines about it. Darren takes a break to have a conversation with Ant about how he should tell Harper he likes her. Then Darren looks wistfully at their valentines.

The valentines transition into Cash giving himself a stick and poke tattoo of a broken heart while saying “Ow! Ow! Ow!” but Nan suddenly bursts into the bedroom yelling at him to go to prom because “you’ve been going to that school for fifty bloody years” and she just wanted one picture of him at prom.

He mopes about his breakup, saying, “I would do anything--why does it have to be the one thing I can’t change about myself?” and she replies, “Everyone’s walking around with a poo in their pants…I’m serious! Everyone has something.”

She starts talking about how he and Darren have been “living in their own romantic novel” and now they’re getting to the tough part of the relationship. Cash says, “I just feel like someone’s always going to be making a sacrifice if they’d be with me,” and Nan says, “There’s more than one way to love someone, to be with someone. You don’t have to play by other people’s rules. And, to be honest, that was never your style anyway.” We get a wide shot of Cash resting his head on her shoulder, which looks a little weird because he’s in his underwear, but go off I guess.

Anyway, Cash shows up at prom, the first time we see him in a non-eshay fit, and he looks great! He’s wearing a purple flowered suit with a white corsage (ace colors kind of) and instead of his chain he’s wearing pearls, which was a really cute choice. He comes into the prom to “I Feel Love” by Blondie, nervously adjusting his hair and clothes, but forgets to be nervous when he sees Darren with the Puriteens and marches over to them.

Cash: Are you sniffing glue? What are you doing with this lot? Darren: Being accountable.

Cash is such a people-pleaser that he says “no offense” to the Puriteens before continuing “but this isn’t you” to Darren. Darren says, “But it can be! It’s not just about sex with me, Cash!”

Cash looks taken aback and like he's about to say something, but then Spider grabs the mike and that’s IT. Yep, that’s the end of this story arc! It just ends mid-conversation! (At least Darren and Cash start heckling Spider, which is how I feel. Let Cash finish!)

If you pay really close attention, you'll see the following things:

Darren and Cash go together when everyone goes outside to see the Ned Kellys.

Then when the school catches on fire and the students are escaping, there's some really romantic background acting! Cash is grabbing Darren's face and saying something to them intensely and then he's running outside with them and he has his arm around them and is holding their hand.

Later Darren tries to run into the burning building after Quinni, but Cash grabs them and holds them back and says “I won’t let you go.”

As Amerie and Rowan get out, we see the mains all together interacting as a group, ending with all the kids walking away from the burning building, but Darren is just kind of standing there in shock, so Cash pulls them along with the group.

Later (after Darren and Quinni have made up) Darren walks over to Cash, who's sitting on the ground, and clears their throat. He looks up at them tenderly and lets them pull him up. They slow dance, Cash looks at Darren and kisses them, and the two of them hug.

Thoughts: I was really disappointed when I got to 2x07. This is my third watch, but it's been my closest watch, and now I see just how badly the ace/allo storyline was Frankensteined on top of the Chook storyline. In s1, and in parts of s2, this show is meticulous about showing an arc very consistently across lots of big and small moments, some of which you wouldn't even notice if you're not watching closely. It's a pleasure to rewatch because of that.

But even for the closest viewer, there is almost no arc of Darren being sexually frustrated/repressed.

For most of the season I can pick out a very consistent storyline about Cash's past, his secrecy, and Darren's feelings about this.

In 2x07, this is dropped for the reveal that Darren is sexually frustrated. And it's done in a way where I'm confused what the truth even is. Darren is saying they don't need sex, but they're also saying that they will "kill" and "shut off" their sexuality to keep from losing Cash, so they're an unreliable narrator--they just want to not need sex because they think he'll dump them. Meanwhile, Dusty tells Cash that Darren's really struggling, but Dusty has been set up as a really slimy dishonest character, and some of what he says is obviously shitty, so…what exactly is Darren actually feeling?

I'm going to go off the little bits I have, and guess that they're kind of swinging to the opposite extreme from how they were in S1 (which makes sense IMO--Darren's an extreme personality and they know they acted badly). They're pent up, they're hiding that from Cash, they feel guilty for being sexual, and they're worried about imposing on him.

Possibly they've become ashamed of it--it's just become another way of being "too much." They don't want to unpack that they wanted to cheat or why, because they're afraid that if Cash knows they're having a hard time, he either will break up with them, or he'll do things he doesn't want. That's why "we both did a shitty thing and now we can move on"--they're afraid of talking about it. But then he breaks up with them for being too much anyway, and they just escalate the track they were already on by joining the Puriteens.

As for Cash, he really likes positioning himself as a caretaker, and he doesn't like to impose on people. The idea that Darren is making a sacrifice for him is intolerable, so instead of talking to them, he just cuts it right off. It's a really (unintentionally) cruel scene to me. Clearly Darren isn't going about things the right way but Cash comes in with his decision made and just doesn't respond to them at all.

Now that we know Cash has a history of self-harm, there is a little implication with him giving himself a tattoo (esp how much he seems to be hurting himself while doing it--the tattoo he gave Darren hurt, but they weren't yelling in pain the whole time).

I can't with Cash and Nan talking like the relationship was perfect until Cash found out Darren was sexually frustrated. The boat scene was two episodes ago! Moving on.

I see her advice as being basically good, though, and covering a bunch of things that I'd like to see these guy*s explore:

-Just because things aren't simple doesn't mean a relationship isn't worth having

-There are a lot of different ways to have a relationship (psst, please talk about nonmonogamy or at LEAST sit down and have a real conversation about Darren's needs vs. what Cash is comfortable doing)

-Everyone makes sacrifices in relationships and has sacrifices made for them

And I don’t care, I’m going to read the final Cash and Nan scene as meaningful in the overall arc of Cash being Like That. He confided in her and accepted support from her, instead of always trying to take care of her (as she pointed out he does in 1x08).

Given how this arc just kinda trailed off, I saw some reviewers/reactors think that Cash and Darren were broken up at the end of the season. They're clearly not, but…yeah, my da$h watch has definitely ended with a whimper.