#I feel like we’d go to visit family or something and they’d be like they don’t need to know that you’re a demigirl

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

#is this even good???? i’m spiralling #like why do i feel like it isn’t giving anything. #tbsg #meste blurb #blurb #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy x oc #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

[talesfromthenorsesmouth]

It was 7.30pm, on 6 July 1972...

“Starman” is David Bowie’s Christmas carol. It offers a promise of deliverance, that the human race has been redeemed by greater powers, with a chorus built for a crowd to sing it... 'Starman' entry on Pushing Ahead of the Dame

Handwritten Starman lyrics

“Starman” seems like a revision of “Space Oddity”—“Space Oddity” had placed a frail human figure against the unfathomable expanse of space and cast him loose to drift into the unknown. It was submission to the void, the human race reaching its limits. In “Starman” the unknown is domesticated: the alien comes to visit us, in our homes, whispering through our radios, speaking softly, promising release. The stoicism of “Planet earth is blue/and there’s nothing I can do” is replaced by “he’s told us not to blow it/’cos he knows it’s all worthwhile.” ... “Starman” is also a pop song about pop music…it’s how pop music can instantly create secret societies, break up the tedium of your life, liberate you from your parents. Starman' entry on Pushing Ahead of the Dame

The essential moment comes when Bowie starts to sing the first chorus and Ronson tentatively approaches the mike. Bowie notices him and sweeps his arm over Ronson’s shoulder, pulls him to the mike. It’s a sweet moment of inclusion, the alien embracing the rocker, and, by proxy, all of the nation’s misfits. “Starman” left community in its wake; its promise came true. Starman' entry on Pushing Ahead of the Dame

"I immediately put on some of my older sister’s make-up. I loved how odd it made me look, and the fact that it upset people. You put on eyeliner and people started screaming at you. How strange, and how marvellous.” -Robert Smith, The Cure

”I was hooked. The Top Of The Pops performance changed lives. In 1972, I’d get girls on the bus saying to me, ‘Eh la, have you got lippy on?’ Until he turned up it was a nightmare. All my other mates at school would say, ‘Did you see that bloke on Top Of The Pops?’ He’s a right faggot, him!’ And I remember thinking, ‘You pillocks’, as they’d all be buying their Elton John albums, and Yessongs and all that crap. It made me feel cooler.” -Ian McCulloch, Echo and the Bunnymen

"The way Bowie pointed that finger, smilingly draped an arm around Mick Ronson, and looked beyond the camera to engage the audience sitting at home, stickily hemmed in by disapproving members of their immediate family, seemed of a piece with the new Ziggy Stardust persona we’d been reading about. It felt like an arrival long delayed." David Hepworth, The Guardian

“I just couldn’t believe how striking he was. That ambiguous sexuality was so bold and futuristic that it made the traditional male/female role-play thing seem so out-dated. Bowie was the catalyst who’d brought a lot of us, the so-called Bromley Contingent, together. And out of that really small group of people a lot happened.” Siouxsie Sioux, Siouxsie and the Banshees

Starman page from Bowie: Stardust, Rayguns and Moonage Daydreams by Michael Allred

"I remember the first time Bowie appeared on TV ... Suddenly, here comes a guy dressed as a gay alien from outer space, singing gay alien songs from outer space .... I remember TOTP was family viewing, and I remember watching it with my Mum and Dad. "Oh, shouldn’t be allowed". And there was one bit in the chorus when Bowie puts his arm round Ronson’s neck and they sing together? My Dad was like "Poofter" ... My mother’s intense disapproval made me think ‘Well, there must be something GREAT going on here"...

(maybe people who celebrate song's birthdays are cringe but fuck that post and happy birthday to the broadcast of this song)

#david bowie #starman #top of the pops #mick ronson #i wish i could have found more quotes that weren't from blokes tho #personally i wasn't born iin 1972 but when i first watched the video #new years eve 2004 #it felt pretty electric #still does

[mathsbian]

This country (the US) hates poor people so fucking much. Not even just the corporations and credit companies! The fucking government!

My partner got a ticket for something stupid like a parking violation years ago. Apparently, they had a court date for that ticket, but they didn’t know about it because the summons for the hearing got sent to an address they hadn’t lived at in five years. The court responded by suspending their driver’s license. And sent that notice to the same bad address. So they didn’t know still.

Two summers ago, we ran out of gas downtown outside the main bus terminal. We walked a mile down the road together to get a gallon of gas, and walked back. When we got back, there was a cop working on calling in a tow for what looked like an abandoned vehicle. When we walked up, he asked if the truck was ours and who had been driving. He ran the plates and my partner’s license even though we hadn’t done anything illegal afaik (maybe walking away from a car that’s out of gas that’s still in the road, even if there’s nowhere to push the car to get it out of the way, is illegal? I don’t know). He walked back over and asked my partner if they were aware their license was suspended. My partner said no. The cop let us go without writing a ticket or confiscating my partner’s license, but insisted I had to be the one to drive home on my expired driver’s license. I’m disabled and don’t feel safe driving a car so that drive home was pretty stressful.

A month or so later we were driving to their parents’ houses a couple counties away to visit their family. We realized on the way down that their truck’s taillights were out and hoped we’d make it before dark. We did not. Two different state troopers pulled us over less than five miles apart. The first one wrote a ticket, confiscated my partner’s license, and made me take over driving again. Part of the ticket was because my partner didn’t have car insurance, because car insurance is really expensive and we’re barely scraping by each month as it is. Driving in the dark is even more difficult for me, so I was already on my way to panicking when the second state trooper pulled us over. We showed him the ticket we had just gotten and he let us go, but that was the first time I have ever been pulled over while driving and my license was expired and I was sure we’d be getting arrested. So even more panicky as we pulled back onto the highway and got to my partner’s mom’s house.

After that ticket, my partner got summoned to court again. It wasn’t for months, and it was a couple of counties away, but not in the county their parents live in. They ended up driving us home, driving to work for the time til the court date, driving us to the store, and driving us back to their mom’s the day before court. We went well before dark this time so we wouldn’t get stopped for the taillights again. Their mom helped get their insurance renewed and took them to court. The court said they could go ahead and renew their license in their county of residence when they got home, and that as long as they kept paying their insurance, there wouldn’t be any more problems. A review of their case was set for January of this year.

In December, they got let go from their job because the company owner realized he was expanding too fast and started making cuts everywhere.

They went in for the review on the appointed date, and all that happened was they were informed they owe the court like SEVEN HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS, after adding up the amounts they were fined, the court fees, and the additional fine for missing court the first time even though there was no way for them to show up to that because they didn’t know they’d been summoned to court. It’s due by June 8. There’s no way we can save up for that by then.

Today? They got a letter saying their license is suspended again for driving while it was suspended two years ago. Even though they were told to renew their license at the last court date, and that there wouldn’t be any problems if they paid their insurance. They aren’t allowed to renew it now until July, with the stipulation that it will stay suspended if they don’t pay off their court dues. So, in this society that has been built to revolve around the personal car, my partner is license-less, has to somehow find a job within walking distance, and then somehow save more money than we’ve ever had saved just to get their license back. And then renewing it will cost another goddamn $40.

I have no clue what we’re supposed to do anymore. They tried applying for unemployment but now it uses ID.me to verify your identity and for whatever reason they couldn’t get their identity verified. Now I’m wondering if it’s because their license got suspended again and we didn’t find out til long after that attempt.

Fucking. FUCK!!! And this is all not even addressing my massive credit card debt that I can’t make payments on because I have no income whatsoever. I’m still fucking waiting on my SSDI decision from my hearing in December. It’s supposed to be arriving soon but who knows how long it will take to get through the mail.

Like how are we supposed to go to the store? My partner can walk there but I don’t know if I can even make it that far, and we get so many groceries at once that we often can’t bring them into the house in one trip, just coming from the trunk of my car. I can’t carry that much AND walk all that way, especially after walking to the store and around the store. Walking around the store often wipes me out on its own.

It’s so fucking expensive being poor already, and it doesn’t help when the government decides to fine you a bunch of money and take your license til you pay.

#us politics #poverty #vent

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

The sun was much hotter than usual in Arkhelios, forcing its residents or visitors into either air conditioning or a pool to cope. Fortunately for Theo, his grandmother owned a pool, even if it wasn't as big as the Rivales'. While his parents were at work and all their kids were home from school for the weekend, it had fallen to Elaine to watch the Bellamy children. Saturnia and Abe were both napping in the air conditioned guest room and the twins had gone to visit with their father and Evren, leaving Theo mostly left to his own devices. He'd asked Ironman if Adam could come over and the former servo had agreed. Grandma Elaine certainly wouldn't have allowed it, but Theo had asked an adult resident of the house and gotten permission. He wasn't a lawyer like his aunt, but he was pretty sure that this was a foolproof plan to get what he wanted.

After splashing around in the pool for a bit, the boys had pulled out a floating toy to lounge on in the sun. Theo could feel the warmth of Adam's skin pressed against him and the faint throbbing of his pulse in the hands that wrapped themselves around him. He was pretty sure that this was as close to heaven as it got, seeing that he felt so happy that he just might die of it. 

"The sun is nice," Adam murmured into Theo's shoulder. "I wish our school had a pool. We'd have a lot more opportunities to snuggle like this."

Theo wasn't sure if his face was hot because of the beating sun or from the sudden heat that engulfed him when he thought of making half naked aquatic snuggling a regular part of his day. 

Still, he was haunted by the knowledge he'd promised to tell his boyfriend. After their sleepover two days ago, they'd studied for an upcoming test, had a pop quiz in potion class and then they'd been freed from school. The weekend was now theirs to enjoy, with plenty of time to have serious conversations. Theo wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, and Adam hadn't pushed him on the matter. He looked a little more worried than usual, but ultimately, he trusted that Theo would bring up the mysterious topic on his own.

"We need to have that talk I mentioned the other day," Theo said quickly, before he lost his nerve. "About the guy I met."

Adam's face changed in an instant, suddenly fully alert.

"The hot guy you don't want to dump me for, but is still going to be scandalous to me? I'm all ears."

Adam stared at Theo expectantly while Theo adjusted himself on the float. For reasons he wasn't sure about, it was surprisingly difficult to just say the words he needed to say. Maybe it was his own experience with scandalous accusations in his family that held him back from just confessing what he'd been told. Adam didn't deserve to feel the same way Theo did about his own father.

"I went home after school with Oliver Goldman, remember? For the project we were assigned by the witches' council?"

"That moldy soup you handed my dad? I'm sure he only let you pass because we're dating and Oliver is the queen's little brother. That thing stank!"

"Hey, I'm good at blood magic, not stupid potions!" Theo protested. "Not to mention that Oliver did absolutely nothing to help me. The guy's a dick, no matter who his sister is."

"And?" Adam prodded, looking anxious that their complicated conversation had started with the queen's brother who could do no wrong with their teachers. 

"And I met his next door neighbour. His name was Ewan."

"Lots of people are named Ewan," Adam frowned. "Prince Ewan, Queen Claudia's grandfather, died young and tragically. It was out of respect for him that so many people in his family and around the world named their kids after him. I mean, my own dad is named after him; he was my dad's great-half-uncle or something."

"Yeah…but he told me that he wasn't named after some long dead prince. He's named after his father, Ewan G Maricourt."

There was complete silence for several minutes while Adam processed Theo's words.

"I don't have a brother," he said slowly, looking disturbed at the idea. "I would know if I had a brother. Why wouldn't my dad just tell me about him otherwise? I know he's had relationships since the divorce, but none that got serious enough to introduce us to. And he married both my mom and Miruna's mom when we were born, so why wouldn't he have married this kid's mother? Was this supposed brother a kid or was he older?"

"He looked our age, but he implied that he was older and more mature than me," Theo replied. "He was kind of a jerk too. He refused to get my name right."

"Do you think he was lying? I mean, we're not rich, but we're also not poor. Our family has connections, but there are so many other families that are better off. Do you think it could be a lie to kick my dad off of the council it to cause a scandal before Miruna's wedding? Theo, this could be a big deal, I need to talk to this guy before this story gets out of control."

Theo frowned. The thought that this mysterious guy could be a trap meant to hurt Adam's family hadn't occurred to him. He'd spent too long getting flustered by this Ewan's appearance and attitude to accurately advise his boyfriend.

"Well, he lives next door to Oliver's parents," he said. "His brother or something used to be friends with Queen Claudia growing up. He looked happy to see the queen again."

"Her Majesty was there when you met this guy? Theo, we need to get a handle on this before it gets out! The queen's old 'friend' and his little brother who claims to be my dad’s kid? This could ruin everything!"

Adam tried to control his breathing so that he didn't start hyperventilating, but it was hard to stay calm. Adam usually worried about even the smallest detail in his daily life, and this was just too much to handle.

“Okay, we need a plan. Who should we ask for help? Should we ask anyone or should we keep this quiet? No. No. If I tell someone, that means they’d know and might ruin things. This could be a trap to test how we’d react in a difficult situation. What if someone is planning a terrorist attack on the wedding and needs to see how Miruna’s family would react? No one’s solved the terror attack in Twikkii Island and that’s been years! What if this is being planned by the same people? The queen’s wedding might be their next target!”

“Or your dad’s just as bad at birth control as mine is,” Theo pointed out, trying to get his boyfriend to stop spiraling. “Trust me, I know from experience that these things probably aren’t terror attacks. Your dad is just a hoe. You get used to it after a while. My dads won’t stop cheating on each other; I probably have a million half-brothers. It’s not the end of the world. Your dad’s not married, so there’s not even an affair. Things are fine.”

“Or things could be wildly out of control. We need to know if this guy is dangerous.”

“Which means what? Asking your dad for a list of ex-girlfriends? Running a DNA sample with my creepy Aunt Oriana? What will help you feel safe? We’ll figure this out together, Adam. I promise.”

“Together!” Adam exclaimed quickly. “That’s it, Theo! We need to act together. If we can verify this guy’s story and he’s trouble, we can warn my dad and Miruna. I do need your help though. What’s the easiest way to accurately determine if two people are blood relatives that we have access to?”

“Uh, Aunt Oriana’s secret lab and all the machines I can’t touch in there?”

Adam shook his head.

“Too risky,” he replied. “She’d ask questions about running a paternity test and she’d need a sample of this guy’s DNA to work with. How would we possibly get one of those without raising suspicion?”

“In his garbage. Crime shows and Aunt Lucy say that that’s the best way to learn information about someone,” Theo stated proudly, confused by the disgusted look on his boyfriend’s face. “If they throw it away, it’s legal to rummage through.”

“What? No, gross. I’m not going diving in people’s garbage,” Adam stated. “Think about it though. A DNA test is beyond our skills, but what are you specifically in school studying?”

“Blood magic obviously.” He paused, trying to recall any important warnings his teachers had given him regarding his area of expertise. “Adam, I don’t think that- I mean-”

“Can you do it? Can you make a spell that will tell us if there’s a blood connection between two people? I think I’ve heard about one or two when the council still met at our house a few years ago. If you could cast a spell, you could tell me if he’s my brother easily. You could probably even submit it to school for extra credit.”

Theo paused, hesitating with his reply until he’d really had a chance to think this through.

“I think there’s a spell in my textbook,” he said slowly. “I’m really not supposed to practice this stuff unsupervised though. It can be dangerous and I might need another witch to help if I lose control of it.”

“Well, you have another witch,” Adam pointed out. He snapped his fingers and Theo’s backpack filled with textbooks left Theo’s messy room and landed by Adam’s feet. “This will be easy.”

Theo could feel his stomach churning from anxiety, but tried to keep smiling. His boyfriend needed this and it would be great practice. This was what Theo was studying for after all. It would be easy.

“Okay.”

“Okay, so we need a wand, some chalk, three drops of blood from the caster and salt,” Adam read.

He and Theo were curled around a hastily drawn magic circle, flipping through pages in the advanced blood magic assigned curriculum. After about twenty minutes, they’d found a spell that would work for what they needed it to do. It was a spell of revealing, of drawing together a bloodline. Theo was pretty sure that it was intended for some dark purpose, but he’d use the spell responsibly. They studied basic magical ethics in school; he’d be fine.

“Hmm, but in order to see your bloodline, you need to be the one casting the spell,” Theo pointed out. “I can’t cast the spell on you, you need to be the one shedding the blood and invoking it yourself.”

Adam’s face fell as he considered his options.

“I...I don’t think I’d be good at that,” he sighed. “Blood magic isn’t like formal magic and it’s hard enough for you to do. I’d probably end up wiping out my bloodline if I tried. Maybe there’s another spell that you can cast, like a curse that makes me see the truth or some kind of hex.”

“Not really, no. That’s not how blood magic works. It’s personal, that’s why I have to hide my true name, you know that. Blood, names, spells, it’s all intensely personal. All my teachers don’t even really encourage me to do some of these spells. Like a few for an exam, but overall, it’s something dark and horrible and not to be done. It’s why I’m pretty much the only kid in school learning it. My kind of magic is dangerous and bad.”

Adam’s face fell upon hearing those words and he immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

“None of that is true,” he insisted. “You’re a great warlock and your type of magic is valid and worthy to study. You’re great at it and I won’t stop until the whole world is okay with you studying it. No one is going to look down on you, not when I’m around.”

Theo smiled gratefully at his boyfriend. Some days it really did feel like he was studying some forbidden, dark magic that people looked down on him for and it wasn’t easy, especially when his potion work was poor and his attempts at formal teleportation had nearly ended with him losing a limb.

“In fact, you do the spell,” Adam suggested. “We’ll use a loophole. If I join your bloodline to mine, you could see the connections in my family. You could get closer to this Ewan without suspicion even. You can connect people, the sovereign wanted you to join your parents together. It should be easy.”

Theo stared at Adam in shock, trying to process this strange request.

“You want to join our bloodlines? Like how joined? Demonic marriage like my parents wanted or combining them in a more conventional way....like with a kid? You do know that’s why my powers are so strong and uncontrollable, right? Because conflicting curses were sealed into one embryo and I was going to explode one day and take half of my bloodline with me? Getting a paternity test done by my aunt would be a lot easier than any of that.”

“No, not with marriage or a kid,” Adam quickly replied. “My uncle died because he was messing around with that idea. I could never do something like that, my mom would never speak to me again. Obviously we wouldn’t be doing that. Not ever. Especially not with a kid!”

Theo released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding at this assurance. He hadn’t thought that Adam was serious about any of that, but it was better to make sure. The Darktides did have a family history of pushing magical limits.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Adam sighed, pulling away from Theo shamefully. “I was just thinking about ways we could work together on this, while worrying about the chance that this whole half-brother thing could be some kind of trap. You’re just really strong and I thought that...well, it’s stupid. You’re right. Blood magic is really personal and permanent. I get it. We’ll do something else.”

A worried frown spread across Theo’s face as he watched Adam internally battle his own fears and reservations. Clearly, whatever he was thinking, he was extremely conflicted and stressed. Theo thought back to when he’d learned about Georgiana and could certainly commiserate. It wasn’t easy reevaluating who you thought your parents were and the many ways they could disappoint you.

“Well, look, it’s not all permanent with blood magic. There are different levels of blood joining. We could even try making a homunculus together in a bottle, that might be enough to work a temporary joining spell. There’s lots of different spells in my textbook. I was just surprised. It’s a good idea, but that’s kind of a lot to just throw at a person.”

Adam smiled, though it didn’t look sincere to Theo’s well trained eye.

“What’s the smallest level of joining we could do then? Something temporary. Something that won’t last for even the whole weekend. Then there’s no danger to either one of us. We just have to pay this Ewan a visit, see if he’s my brother and things will go back to normal right after.”

“A blood pact maybe?” Theo suggested. “We combine my magic and your bloodline to complete one mission: is Ewan your brother or is he not? Easy.”

“Easy,” Adam agreed. “I’ve always wanted to try blood magic, even if I’m not the one casting it. You and me, working together, doing magic. It’s romantic, don’t you think?”

Theo nodded confidently. This was romantic, as romantic as it could be anyway, investigating a potential half-sibling that was kept a secret. For a day at least, he and Adam would share their bloodlines and bind themselves together. What would it be like to feel his magic flow into Adam and have Adam’s ebb back in reply? They’d be stronger together, that was for certain. Maybe this could be a regular thing, especially a day before a magical exam. Surely it wasn’t cheating on a test if some of Adam’s formal magic guided Theo’s spellwork.

“We’re on a mission together, one that could save a royal wedding from disaster,” Theo teased playfully. He didn’t believe Adam’s paranoid worries, but it certainly sounded more adventurous to be saving a wedding from certain peril than investigating whether Adam’s father knew how to use birth control. “Okay, get the silver knife out of my backpack. It’s in with my pencils, I don’t use it very often.”

Adam did as he was instructed and held up the knife expectantly.

“Do I just stab it somewhere?”

“No, put your hand in the magic circle,” Theo commanded. “You need to use your true name for it to work. That’s your whole name and you have to say it in the proper way or the spell is weaker. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. What’s your name and how does it sound when you think about yourself? Take a deep breath, prick your finger with the knife and say your name loud and clear.”

Theo held his breath again, waiting for his boyfriend to follow his commands. It was always risky doing blood magic with a partner in case they weren’t honest with their name or intentionally said it wrong or without the proper emphasis on the correct words. Most people were given their true names at birth and only chose how the sounds would be pronounced, while others rejected their given name and chose both the words and sounds that defined their magical essence. Honestly, he was dying with curiosity to hear Adam’s true name and had been since they were kids. It was something so private and sacred and he had chosen Theo to hear it over anyone else.

Adam took a deep breath and pierced his finger as commanded. He held his hand in the circle, watching as drops of blood fell, illuminating the circle’s magic.

“Adam Sebastian Casper Medora Darktide-Maricourt.”

Theo tried to hide his delight at this revelation that only he had heard, but was probably failing. He could spend an entire evening replaying this moment over and over in his head, committing each inflection to memory and truthfully, he probably would.

And he added Medora to his name, just like a true Maricourt would! That’s how he sees himself, and only I know it!

Still gleeful at this turn of events, Theo tried to focus on the task at hand. He reached for the knife and repeated Adam’s actions.

“Theodosius Ulysses Bellamy.”

A sudden spark of green flame flooded the circle, and disappeared as quickly as it came. Theo scanned the relevant page in his textbook and chanted the written latin, trying not to mess up any of the difficult words.

“Bind us together until we learn the truth about the blood connection between Adam Sebastian Casper Medora Darktide-Maricourt and Ewan, uh, Maricourt. Let me, Theodosius Ulysses Bellamy, be the vessel for this bloodline to gather and connect with each other. Let me see the truth that has been hidden. Bind us in this purpose.”

The rings of the circle hummed with life around the two teens, indicating that the spell had been successful.

“Did it work? Are we different now?”

Theo examined his hand carefully. The magical flames had seared his self-inflicted wound closed, but he still felt relatively normal.

“I’m not sure, I-” Theo stopped mid sentence when he saw the quiet flicker of magical energy flash the closer he was to Adam’s body. To test this discovery, Theo tried waving his hand in the opposite direction. When the light reappeared only when Adam’s hand was near his, Theo beamed.

“I’d say it worked! This is amazing! We did it!”

While Theo celebrated, Adam once more looked worried.

“Um, are you sure that was this Ewan’s name?” he asked quietly. “I mean, if no one’s aware of his existence, why would he have my dad’s last name? Does that matter?”

Theo paused to consider the question.

“Um, I don’t think so. I was picturing him when I said it and like I said, the true name of someone just makes the spell more powerful and accurate. I think we’re fine.”

“There are a lot of Ewans running around though. Are you sure?”

“Well, most of the ones that you know of are named after a family member,” Theo decided. “So they’ll be connected by blood anyway. If we find a blood connection to the Ewan we’re investigating, then he’ll be connected to the other Ewans too, which should end the spell. I think we’re fine.”

“Alright then. Let’s clean this mess up before your grandmother comes to check on us and has a heart attack. Then we have a possible brother to find.”

#sims 2 #arkhelios #arkhelios adventures #theo bellamy #sim: theo bellamy #sim: Adam Darktide #adam darktide #tw: blood

[heavencasteel420]

I probably won't finish the fifth chapter of Tonight, Tonight, the Highway's Bright until Tuesday or so, but in honor of the We Love Jancy Fanfic Event, I'm posting the first bit (Nancy's letter to Jonathan) right here:

Dear Jonathan,

Guess who’s grounded for a week because she disappeared for almost three hours on Thanksgiving Day? That’s right—it’s me! Mom was frantic when I came home, with Dad and all the relatives tiptoeing around her, nibbling on hors d’ouvres. Apparently she’d called Steve (even though he was in Virginia with his grandparents for Thanksgiving) and Tommy (as though I’d spend any time with Tommy on my own) and Carol (which at least makes sense—she was in town and we do hang out a lot, unfortunately). Plus half a dozen other people from school, so everybody’s whispering about how I’ve gone crazy again. I guess I’m lucky, because if I hadn’t broken my hand and screamed at my mom in front of everyone last winter, they’d be gossiping about how I must have been cheating on Steve, or doing drugs in the woods, or going to the Planned Parenthood in Bloomington for a VD test. I’m insane enough that nobody has a problem believing that I’d skip out on Thanksgiving just to smoke cigarettes and listen to The Lexicon of Love in my car by myself.

(Do you like ABC? I bet not. I bet they’re too goofy for you.)

That’s what I told everyone, by the way. I figured you wouldn’t want everyone in your business, even though you don’t live here anymore. I thought about telling Mom, because she always liked you and she’d be glad to hear you were doing all right. She’d probably say something to Dad, though, and he’d let it slip to people at his job. I thought about telling Steve, too, because he’s maybe the only person who seems to think I was acting weird (for me, I mean). He keeps asking why I didn’t just fake sick or go to Carol’s if I needed a break from my family. That’s what he does when things are tense at home, basically: pretend to be too tired from basketball practice and hole up in his bedroom, or visit me or Tommy. Sometimes I worry that he has the idea that I’m cheating, like maybe Billy Hargrove said something to him, but I don’t really think that’s it. He’d be mad at me and Billy, and he’d be hurt, and he’d have every right to feel that way, but he wouldn’t be too scared to ask me if it was true. Because that would be a shitty thing to do—it was shitty to let Billy feel me up that one time—but sometimes normal girls cheat on their boyfriends. He’d know what to do with that—dump me or forgive me or get back at me with some other girl. But I don’t think he even knows what he’s afraid I’m doing.

Speaking of being afraid to ask things, Mom hasn’t said one word about the cobbler. At first I assumed she’d forgotten—there were two pies and cookies and ice cream for the dessert already—but then Dad asked if there were any leftovers of the cobbler on Sunday, and she told him it’d all been eaten up. Maybe it was. It’d be a lot for one person, but probably your roommate ate some of it. What’s he like, anyway? I don’t think I even asked whether you met him through school or work or what. I guess I talk a lot about myself. Did you like the cobbler?

Well, I get out of prison on Saturday. I’m going shopping for winter formal dresses with Carol. I am not looking forward to it. All the girls have been bringing catalogs and magazines to school this week so they can show each other their favorites, but it just makes me sad. Barb and I used to look over Seventeen for hours and talk about what we’d wear to high school dances, when that was still years away. We used to wear matching outfits. Do you remember that? The same styles, but different colors, because I was a brunette and she was a redhead. Like Betsy-Tacy. But you’ve probably never heard of Betsy-Tacy.

Anyway, Carol’s a redhead, too, and she’s mad because pink dresses are so “in” this year. It’s hard to find one that’s any other color. She thinks it’s some kind of fashion law that you can’t wear pink if you’re a redhead, even though all the magazines say that you just need to pick a shade that complements your hair color. She told me that’s just a lie advertisers made up to sell lipsticks. (There’s no way you’re interested in this debate, but you’re going to hear all about it, anyway.) She’s been pissing off all the other girls by criticizing their dress choices. Chrissy Cunningham, one of the cheerleaders, almost cried because Carol said her carnation-pink Gunne Sax gown would made her complexion “look like ass.” And Nicole Evans isn’t speaking to her because she said Nicole could wear anything she wanted, because she “has a face like an angry hardboiled egg no matter what she does.”

(I feel bad for Nicole—her face doesn’t actually look like an egg—but I’d feel worse for her if she wasn’t always talking behind my back about how sad and boring and not-that-cute I am, and how she can’t believe Steve ever looked at me twice. She’s not totally off-base, but I don’t think she should blame me for Steve’s bad taste, ha ha.)

About the only girls who are still talking to Carol are me and Heather Holloway. Heather has black hair and looks gorgeous in pink, so Carol couldn’t really insult her. (She couldn’t insult me because I didn’t tell her my dress idea—I want one like Ariel wears in Footloose, pink and off the shoulder—but I’m sure she’ll do it on Saturday.) But Heather’s mother is taking her shopping in Indianapolis, so it’s just me and Carol at the downtown J.C. Penney’s…and Mike. I don’t know if Mom’s still punishing me by making me chauffeur him—he shot up a few inches over the summer and seriously needs new pants—or if she’s just desperate to get him out of the house. Honestly, though, he’s not going to make the trip worse. Carol will be annoying about it, but she’s always kind of annoying. Plus she’ll talk the whole time, so I won’t have to figure out what to say to Mike. He’s so quiet nowadays. I worry about him sometimes.

By the way, don’t think that you’re getting out of meeting me at the mall in Indianapolis. Your time is coming, because the selection at the J.C. Penney’s downtown is never good, and I still want my dish back.

Love,

Nancy

#tonight tonight the highway's bright #jancy fanfic #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

everyone seems so excited on my post about my stranger things apocalypse au, which is incredibly sweet and kind of all of you! anyway, here’s a snippet as a treat :)

The house was dark as Nancy pulled into the driveway, which wasn’t something that frightened her. The power was temperamental at best now, with all the spores floating in from the gates that cut the town into sections. Mike shoved past her to the door, grabbing the key from under the mat and turning the lock.

“Mom?” he called into the dark house, Nancy pulling the door behind them. “Mom, we’re back from visiting Max!”

There was silence, and Mike turned and gave her a wide-eyed stare. It was a scared stare, the same way he’d looked as a kid, when the only thing to fear was monsters under the beds and if their father would yell again. He didn’t care enough to yell most of the time. When they were little, Mike would sneak into Nancy’s room after their Dad had yelled and burrow into bed together. She couldn’t remember when they’d stopped.

Nancy pulled the handgun out from her bag, holding it loosely in her hands. Her and Mike crept into the kitchen, scanning the room. They only seemed to understand each other when they were fighting. It stung more than it should.

“There’s a note,” Mike murmured softly, before a choked up noise caught in his throat. Nancy rushed, reading the note over his shoulder.

We had to go. Your father was going anyway, and it’s better for Holly. He wouldn’t wait for you. I’m sorry. I love you - Mom x

Nancy shook, taking a deep breath. “Fuck.”

“What do we do?” Nancy could see his eyes sparkle with unshed tears in the dim light. It was unrecognisable, and she was grateful Mike was crying for once. It was a fucked up thought that she pushed away.

“I’m- I’m going to call Jonathan.” Nancy stepped away to the phone, praying the phone lines hadn’t gone down. It was inevitable, at some point.

“But you broke up?” Mike frowned at her. “Why would you call him?”

“He’s my best friend,” Nancy replied, before the call went through. “Jon, hi!”

“Nancy?” Jonathan’s voice was staticky through the line. “Is everything okay?”

She bit her lip, refusing to let her tears spill over just yet. “My parents and Holly left. Without Mike and I.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. Come over. I’ll tell Mom.” He said it simply, like it was the obvious answer to their situation. She could picture his facial expression clearly, a thought that made her laugh wetly. “Grab some clothes for a few days, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Nance. I’m sure.” She heard Jonathan talking to someone else distantly. “Mom’s threatening to come and get you, otherwise.”

Nancy laughed, properly this time. “We’ll be over soon.”

Mike raised his eyebrows at her. “We’re going to the Byers?”

“Pack some clothes.” Nancy paused for a second taking a shaky breath. “I’m going to kill him. If they ever come back.”

There was a hysterical note to Mike’s voice as he stared at her. “I- fuck. I just- well, I didn’t think Mom would leave us, you know?”

“Yeah,” Nancy breathed, biting her lip. “We’ve gotta stick together now. We’re the only family left.”

Mike nodded, rubbing his eyes. “It's not fair. And- you know, sometimes I think we’d be better siblings if we- if Dad hadn’t been-”

“It’s my fault, too.” Nancy let her tears start to fall, wincing at the ugly snorting noise she made when she breathed. “I should have been better - I mean, after Barb-”

“No.” Mike rubbed at his face again, sleeves coming away wet. “No, it was my fault too, I-”

Nancy pulled him tightly against him as they cascaded into tears. She hadn’t hugged him in years, not probably, a fact that made her sob harder. “We’re gonna do better.”

“Yeah. We’ll do better.” Mike laughed hysterically, a sob breaking the sound and causing him to cough. “I broke up with El, you know. Well, she broke up with me. And- and I’m upset? But I’m also relieved?”

“So we’re both going to stay with our exes,” Nancy commented, feeling herself giggle. “What the fuck is going wrong?”

“She’s my best friend too.” Mike pulled out of the hug, giving her a weird look. “Did Mom ever hug you?”

“I mean, sometimes. Not as much as Joyce hugs her kids.” Nancy turned away, walking up the stairs. “I don’t think she was a bad mom.”

“I don’t think she was. I don’t know.” Mike followed her into her room, watching as she shoved clothes into a backpack with little care. “I wish she’d been more like Joyce.”

“Yeah.” Nancy zipped up her bag. They’d be back in a few days to get more things, there wasn’t any point overpacking. “Me too.”

They switched rooms and Mike shoved things into his bag haphazardly, and before Nancy could process what was happening she was turning the key in her car, catching Mike’s eyes.

“Are you ready?”

“Don’t have much choice, do we?” Mike reached over to the dashboard, switching out the tape to the cassette with everyone’s favourite songs on. Nancy sighed slightly as the familiar sound of Kate Bush played. “You know, after all the fucked up shit we’ve been through recently, this- this feels like the worst. Which, I mean, Max is in a coma, and Eddie’s still like, bleeding through bandages, but-”

“I get it.” Nancy stared at the garage door through the windscreen. “Injuries are normal. They’re typical Upside Down side effects, even if they’re worse than usual. This isn’t meant to happen.”

Mike didn’t reply to that, simply turning up the music. Nancy put the car into reverse, backing out of the drive and down the road.

It was only when they pulled up by the cabin that Mike spoke. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Nancy paused, considering the question. “I am. I’m so angry.” She glanced at him, giving a sad smile. “I’m just so tired, Mike.”

#stranger things #fanfic #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #also in case you didn't realise it's an apocalypse. that is a gay genre #so there will be so many gay people. anyway #ronance #jargyle #steddie #byler #lumax #do i just. tag all the characters involved? eh i'm gonna sorry #max mayfield #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #el hopper #will byers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #argyle #jonathan byers #joyce byers #jim hopper #also!!! so much platonic bonding #platonic stobin #i could ramble about this au for hours. like we're going to deal with the effects of the upside down #maybe we're not getting therapy but people are talking about their feelings!! #okay i am shushing!! love you all

[sleepyeye17]

Final Chapter of Steddie New Years Eve Fic!

Words: 951

Warnings: None

Full link:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43927380/chapters/110731429

2003/2004

Eddie bounced up and down, hugging his arms against the cold.

“Jesus Christ, I’m freezing my tits off.”

“I’ll hold them for you,” Steve said, putting his hands on Eddie’s chest. Eddie giggled. It was snowing, and Steve opened up his coat for Eddie to step into. 

When they’d arrived at the courthouse at nine, the line had already been out the door. Now it was around the block. All across Massachusetts, couples were lining up outside welcoming churches, courthouses, synagogues, and mosques, waiting for the clock to strike midnight and same-sex marriage to be legal for the first time anywhere in the United States. Steve and Eddie would only be legally married in some states, of course, but they’d be married somewhere. They’d be married when they came to visit Nancy, and if anything bad happened, they could come to a hospital in Boston and have the same rights as any married couple.

Robin and Vickie had discussed coming along and getting married, but in the end they’d decided that it wasn’t for them. Maybe someday, when it was a federal law, but even then Robin wasn’t sure she needed the government to get involved in their relationship. Steve and Eddie understood this. They’d hesitated, too– Eddie was not the marriage type – but their medical history had finally pushed their decision. Eddie could need an organ transplant in the next ten years, and Steve wanted all the rights of a husband when that happened.

They’d be going to Nancy’s house tomorrow for cake and dancing, with the whole crowd. Tonight it was just the immediate family: Dustin, Robin, and Alice were keeping warm at a nearby all-night cafe until midnight, when they’d come to the courthouse and act as witnesses. 

The line was filled with couples. Men and women, old and young. Somewhere, someone was playing “Come and Get Your Love” on a boom box. 

There were two women in front of Steve and Eddie who couldn’t be a day under 80. One was in a wheelchair, the other with a cane. Both were in long white wedding dresses under their fur coats. Snow caught in their white hair and made them look like something from a fairytale.

“I feel underdressed compared to those women,” Steve murmured. Eddie turned surreptitiously to look at them.

“Someone should tell them that homosexuality is just a phase,” he whispered. “They’ll get over it once they find a nice man.”

Steve giggled into Eddie’s neck.

“You’re gonna be my husband,” he said. He felt giddy, like a kid on Christmas eve. “My husband.”

“You make me sound so domestic,” Eddie said.

“Sorry.”

“No, I like it.”

“Husband.”

“Oooh. say it again.”

Steve pressed Eddie closer.

“Husband.”

Eddie was slightly breathless when he murmured,

“Again.”

“Careful, darling. We’re in public.”

Eddie started swaying Steve back and forth, like middle schoolers at a slow dance.

“Did you ever imagine your wedding?” Eddie asked. “When you were a teenager?”

“When I was a teenager? Sure.”

“Tell me.”

“The color scheme was Quartz Pink and eggshell. We’d have strawberry cake and Pink Mondial roses. Poofy white dress, long veil, all the trappings.”

“And what did the bride wear in this teenage fantasy?”

Steve flicked Eddie’s ear.

“Usually she was naked.”

Eddie laughed and rested his forehead against Steve’s. 

“What about you?” Steve asked. “Did you think about your wedding?”

“Not really. Sometimes in highschool I worked as a dishwasher at the hotel, and I would watch the receptions. It all seemed very heteronormative, and not for me at all. Except for the first dances. I didn’t really want to get married, but I wanted a first dance.”

“Mm.” Steve grabbed one of Eddie’s gloved hands. “Sing for us, baby.”

Eddie smiled, and sang,

“Outside another yellow moon

Has punched a hole in the nighttime mist

I climb through the window and down to the street

I'm shining like a new dime…”

They swayed in the snowfall, surrounded by the crowd of desperate couples. Everyone in this line knew how it felt to be deserted and hated, disinvited and disinherited, mocked, shamed, and kept hidden. Everyone in this line was there to make a choice, to show that they loved each other and to show that their love was worth something. It was something that should be marked down and recorded, not swept out of sight. They were creating new families, new histories. 

“Will I see you tonight on a downtown train?

Every night, every night, it's just the same…”

This was one state out of fifty, and there was a long way left to go. But if he had to, Steve would marry Eddie in every state, one at a time, until they were married everywhere. He would marry Eddie every day of the year. He would marry Eddie every day of his life.

Someone shouted, “It’s almost midnight!” and together the crowd started counting down the seconds. Eddie just kept singing in Steve’s ear. 

“Will I see you tonight on a downtown train?

All my dreams, all my dreams, fall like rain…”

Steve had been listening to the words wrong this whole time. He’d always thought the song ended with a loss of hopes: all the dreams, falling away like rain in a gutter. He’d been wrong, though. His dreams weren’t falling away. The song ended with dreams falling around him, like rain, soaking him through. He was saturated by them. 

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

There was a roar, and the popping of bottles, and a government employee threw open the door to the courthouse. Steve pulled Eddie in and kissed him. This was the start. 

All my dreams fall like rain

On a downtown train

#steve harrington #steddie #steddie wedding #eddie munson #steve x eddie #gay marriage #new years eve #tom waits #Joe Quinn #joe keery #joseph quinn #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things #fix it fic #Song Fic

[missmouse25]

Hello ! Me again with another request 😉

Can you write something where Max F and the reader are best friends like very close best friends and the reader went to studie abroad in South Africa, she went there to do a 6 months Erasmus and a internship of couples months in the wine industry. Their friends come to visit her all together and sometimes just Max, living clues for the fan the family and friends on social media when it’s only Max and her on trip (so they can talk about everything, how he and her are feeling, him with thinking going back to racing..) and then around Goodwood festival she comes home to surprise them after several months without seeing each other’s and see Max race and after they are going to silverstone all the weekend to watch Lando race and to be to be there for Max for all the quadrant thing. Plus everyone is so happy that she’s back, the fans living the contents, interaction between the two of them, even with fans, that they are given and secretly wants them to be together;)

I think I Have a million ideas for request with Max F 😂

Thankkk youuuu

Hi Anon! So sorry that this took so long to get to you. (i wont burden you with all my excuses 😬) honestly, send all your ideas, throw them at me. Hope you enjoy ❤️

Home - Max Fewtrell

gender neutral first person pov // 1719 words // just a lot of missing places and people

---

Home away from was beautiful. The view from my bedroom window was just vineyards that stretched out for acres. I sat on my bed watching as the sunset turned the sky golden. My colleges had been right: there was nothing quite like an African sunset.

It had been an enjoyable two months so far but as I got used to the new routine, homesickness was starting to creep in. of course the people here were nice; different from what I was used to; but I missed my friends.

Bzzzt! My phone buzzed in my hand.

“Hi, Max,” I said as I answered.

“Hey. Are you busy?”

“If I was busy, would I have picked up?”

“Ok, fair point.”

Talking on the phone, my best friend sounded so nearby: like I could reach out and touch him.

“So, how’s it been? Are you missing us yet?” Max asked and I could feel my chest pull tight.

“Yeah, it’s been good. ‘Lekker’ as the locals say.”

That made him chuckle.

“And?” He prompted.

“And I do miss you guys. A lot,” I said as I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “It kind of hit me toady how long it’s going to be before I see anyone again.”

The line went quiet for a moment and I was afraid we’d lost connection.

Max finally broke the silence.

“Well, about that…”

~

It was chaos. But it was exactly what I had expected it to be. Max had been the first person to hug me at the airport and for a brief moment, as I was held in his arms, it felt like I was home.

The entire drive back to the wine estate was noisy: everyone catching me up on what had been going on, where they’d been. Occasionally id interrupt just to give them the run down on the SA lingo (“it’s called a ‘robot’ not a traffic light.”) and that would cause even more chaos and the cycle would start over again.

I knocked on the door to Max’s room before going in. he looked up from his unpacking and smiled.

“Hey…”

“Hey,” I said back.

“Before I forget, L and L told me to tell you they’re sorry that they cnt make it.”

“Yeah, its fine.” I sat on the bed. “The fact that you guys came at all is…”

Max plopped down next to me, taking my hand in his.

“We weren’t going to let you go lonely. I certainly wasn’t even if no one else wanted to come.”

It felt good to have my best friend next to me again. To hear his voice in person. Breath the same air.

“Is that why you’re staying longer than everybody else?” I asked.

“Sort of.” He rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you and I got some time together without anyone else…”

Max was cut off but his phone buzzing and Niran’s name lit up the screen.

“Doing that…” He finished before answering.

I simply waited and thought about how lucky I was to have Max in my life.

~

The week I spent with my friends was probably the most fun id had since id arrived three, almost four, months ago. We went all over the vineyard, into town, to the river with the little waterfall (despite it not being warm enough to swim). Id laughed so hard my cheeks had hurt and talked so much I thought my tongue would fall out. I had missed them. And I was probably going to miss them even more when they left.

The night before they were due to fly out, we had a huge barbeque (sorry, a braai) curtesy of the estate owner.

I sat with my shoulders tucked under Max’s arm, savouring the scene of my friends enjoying themselves.

“Smile for the camera!” someone called out just as Max and I were blinded by the flash. “Naw, that’s so cute. Definitely posting that one.”

Max just sighed as I laughed.

“You wont really miss that, will you?” he asked.

“Maybe. But it is the only reason we have any photos together.”

“True.”

I thought about it for a second.

“Promise me that while its just you and me this next week, we’ll take some photos.”

Max looked me in the eyes.

“Promise.”

~

Despite having to get back to work and Max having some of his own duties to attend to, I took every moment I could spare to spend time with him.

“Did I tell you that I’ve been asked to drive at Goodwood this year?”

We sat outside in the sun, eating lunch together.

“No, you didn’t. That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty cool.”

Max took a bit of his food even though it looked like he had more to say. It was like he wasn’t sure if he should say It or not.

“If someone gave you the chance to race again,” I said. “Would you?”

“In a heartbeat,” he answered without hesitation. “Funny you should ask that because it’s been on my mind a lot recently.”

“If it means anything to you, I think you should go for it.”

“Of course, it means something to me,” Max said, almost laughing. “Your opinion means everything to me.”

I felt my cheeks go warm and swiftly changed the topic to something that wouldn’t make me feel mushier inside.

~

Late morning sun peaked through the window and warmed up the room. I lay with my head on Max’s lap as he sat in his bed.

“So, no girlfriend then?” I continued to badger him.

“No,” Max laughed.

“No boyfriend either?”

“Shut up.” Max covered my mouth with his hand. “There’s no one back home. No one can replace you anyways.”

My eyes went wide as I looked at him. His lazy smile; messy curls; those ocean-esc eyes.

Max removed his hand as he spoke.

“Do you want me to have a girlfriend?”

Truthfully, I didn’t. I wanted to keep him all to myself.

“I want you to be happy, Max.”

He didn’t even pause before he spoke again.

“I’m happy when I’m with you.”

Slowly, I sat up. Max and I were so close, I could’ve sworn I could hear his heartbeat.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now,” Max said quietly, his eyeline shifting all over my face. “But I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do it.”

“Do it anyways,” I encouraged him.

Max didn’t need a second invitation before pressing his lips onto mine.

~

‘Aw, so cute!’

‘If Max doesn’t marry them, I will.’

‘Lucky…’

‘Power couple ❤️’

I scrolled through the comments on the Instagram post. It was a selection of photos of us together from the time we’d spent together in South Africa. The caption read ‘I’ll see you again soon ❤️’

I laughed quietly to myself in the back of the taxi. Little did Max know exactly how soon it would be.

~

“Aaaah! You’re back!”

In spite of the clouds in the sky, I felt radiant as I hugged Ria tightly.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” She spoke.

“I’m happy to be back.” We stepped apart. “I mean South Africa was beautiful but…”

“You belong here,” Ria completed my sentence for me.

“Look who it is!” Lando’s voice was a sound for sore ears.

I beamed as he and Luisa came into view.

“Hey, you two!”

The greetings kept coming as more people joined us but finally, we got down to business.

“Max went to suit up,” Lando informed me. “He should be driving in about ten minutes.”

Luisa took my arm and lead me, and everyone else, out of the Quadrant gazebo.

“I can’t wait to see him,” I confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Lando said. “He’s keen to see you too. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

The crowd cheered as the old McLaren pulled up. A light drizzle was coming down but we didn’t care. I especially didn’t care even though someone kindly tried to hold an umbrella over my head. I was leaning too far over the barrier for it to be of any use.

Eventually, the driver climbed out, sporting his black and yellow Quadrant race suit and his specially designed helmet (that I’d helped him to choose). I could feel the energy of everyone behind me as they waited for Max to notice.

Instead, he took his sweet time removing his gear, talking to the reporters, posing for photos.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Lando mumbled before yelling out. “Oi! Max! Look over here, mate!”

After two agonising months apart, Max’s eyes met mine. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing; his mouth fell open and he froze.

I felt people pushing and lifting me over the barriers and it took no time at all before I found myself in Max’s embrace.

“What are you doing here, love?” He sounded stunned.

Oh, I’d missed that voice in my ear.

“I’m home,” was all I could say.

Max kissed me deeply, much to the delight of all our friends who cheered loudly.

But honestly, none of that mattered. I was with my best friend once again.

~

“When was the last time you were at a Grand Prix?”

I could barely hear Max over the hustle and bustle around us. It was the one thing that I felt like I could never get used to: all the chaos of a race weekend.

I stood up on my toes to reach Max’s ear.

“Probably about a year ago. Last year’s British GP.”

He nodded before placing a kiss on my head.

“Can we get a picture of the happy couple?” The Quadrant photographer positioned himself in front of us.

I felt Max’s arm slip around my waist as I sidled up to him.

“Lovely, lovely,” the photographer said and I heard the click click of the camera shutter. “And another one. Thanks. The fans are going to love these.”

And just like that he was gone again.

I stayed at Max’s side, safe from anything and everything.

“Are you alright, love?” He asked, fingers trailing up and down my side.

I smiled at him: my friend, my partner, my love.

“I’m just glad to be home.”

#yeet! #take this and that! #hoenstly Anon i was really excited about adding all the south africanisms #this country really is one of a kind #also if you want to allocate yourself a nickname for your asks you are totally welcome to do that #max fewtrell fanfic #max fewtrell x reader #Mouse Writes #ThatKindaVibe

[notasouleater]

There’s a ghost in my house.

“Ghost” may be the wrong word. There’s a spirit. An apparition. A burning hole in the shape of a person.

House is also the wrong word. Place. It comes out there, when I am alone. But even outside when I cannot see it, I feel it at the corners of my vision, falling into nothing.

There are more important things, than the ghost. I have a nursery and store to tend to. A life to tend to. Friends, to tend to.

My friend is a good man. In hard times, truthfully, but doing his best. His husband passed not long ago, a dear friend of mine as well. He took it as well as you would expect, especially when it happened so suddenly, to a man in good health. He barely spoke for a week, and even then his words were truly not for himself but for his young daughter. She was the only reason he started moving again. His older brother and his brother’s partner, his only family, came down to help for a while, but had to leave on business. He’s doing much better now, but I still help where I can.

He often forgets things as of late. He doesn’t like to admit it, not when he feels he must keep everything together. It’s getting better, but he still won’t hear a word on it. I help where I can.

I was at his house when I first noticed the strangeness, though I didn’t know it at the time. We’d had a lovely evening (I cooked), and were playing with his daughter. She’s a smart girl, and is enamored with stories. She takes great pleasure in reenacting the ones she reads in books, or ones she makes herself. She was just crowning her papa- with a paper crown decorated in crayon- when someone passed outside the window, loudly playing a song.

It was one that took me barely a moment to place. A favorite of my friend and his love, one they’d often danced to. I looked to him, and for a moment an expression I could not place flashed over his face, before it settled into something unreadable. This wasn’t unusual. He hardly let himself face things like that, or in essence, the one big thing. Not out in the world, where he needed to be a sole breadwinner, or in his house, where he needed to be a sole homemaker, and especially not in front of his daughter. Not after how hard he fell that first week. 

I worried, but he immediately turned back to laughing as he took his crown, and the evening continued as a pleasant one. I worried too much, it seemed. Happiness was creeping back in.

It wasn’t long after that he started to take ill. Not that he didn’t try to hide it, but even for a man with a talent in illusion, he had little energy to spare for it. One day I was watching his daughter for him after school, and ended up walking her home when I was sure he’d intended to pick her up. He opened the door with his usual energy, seemingly as unaware of any mix-up as his child was, but I could see him blinking away sleep, and tightness around his smile. I cornered him the next day, and he confessed he’d been sleeping poorly, and was starting a cough. 

I convinced him to let his daughter stay with my mother for the weekend (a visit both were more than excited for), and to stay with me for the same time. He was easier to sway than I would usually expect, but I suspect he was feeling worse than he was letting on. But I suspect he had a buried wish not to be alone that night.

We stayed mainly in the house. It was nice, we hardly had full calm days together anymore, even before. Work and families and all good things, but still with days like this one. He mainly kept to the couch, not quite dozing off, and I kept my work to the same room. 

For the better part of the day I only left for long enough to bring back food. Nothing that took preparing. His husband was always the cook among us. In a way I was privately glad I was sure it would go without comment. What was there I could say? Some bring poetics to grief, but he’s just gone. I lived as before, and he was utterly gone.

I ignored the smoke in the corner of my eyes as I left the kitchen.

Eventually there came a time in the day where I had to head out for a bit. I made my friend promise me to stay on the couch (to actually rest) and left. My tasks were mainly in busy areas, groceries and such, but the crowds didn’t stop the burning hole in the corner of my vision, which ebbed and flowed to its own strange reasoning. Quiet as I looked through bulbs but a screaming silent void as I tried to find vegetables. I gave up before I entirely finished collecting the produce, lest I do something drastic in the middle of a store.

At long last I was able to head back, and looking through the window saw my friend had made good on his promise to rest. As I wished not to disturb him, I had nothing that would require refrigeration, and I had tasks to tend to anyways, I went around back to the nursery. It’s smaller than the one connected directly to the shop, but a more controlled environment for plants that might need more care.

It was peaceful there. The rhythms of the work were calming, and I relaxed into the feel of dirt under my fingers. There wasn’t much to do, but I took my time doing it. A hole started burning into the corner of my vision. I ignored it. I pushed the time before returning to the house.

But something within me bucked. Perhaps it was the strain of the preceding days, or just my growing frustration, but I found myself struck with fury at this emptiness, this void in the shape of a man. I told it to go, shooing it in ways I hadn’t tried since they failed when it first appeared, and worked just about as well now. As I did, it pulled away from the corners, starting to fill my vision as my voice raised, until I could stand it no longer, grasping around and wrapping my fingers around the first object I found to hurl at the monstrous apparition.

In a blink it disappeared.

This surprised me. I hadn’t honestly thought it would work. I ventured cautiously into the room, towards where the broken remains of what I could now tell was a small trowel lay. It still did not reappear. It was only when I truly turned my attention toward the ground that I realized what I had done.

It was a simple trowel. Hand held, mass-produced, with a wooden handle that often tried to splinter and was now split from the head of the shovel. It was simple, cheap, and broken. And it had been a gift from my departed friend.

Something broke. It felt like a second funeral, but if I had been the force that struck him down. He couldn’t be any deader than he was only minutes before but it felt like he was. I didn’t realize the volume of my grief, or even that I was crying, until my friend rushed in from the house, roused from where he lay.

I felt bad about that. I tried to reassure him but that ship had firmly sailed. I didn’t need to explain what happened at least, he saw the shovel and figured it out, though he assumed it had been dropped. I don’t think I could’ve handled admitting I’d thrown it.

Despite my attempts at downplaying, he remained resolute. He refused to leave or sit, and surveying the damage he informed me he knew a woodworker who owed him a favor (I swear half the town does), and that he believed that while modifications may be needed, all the original parts should be salvageable. 

I don’t know how to say why, exactly, that last bit meant so much to me. But it helped. It helped a lot.

I still wasn't entirely back, and he could clearly tell. I tried to apologize for bothering him over something so small, but he waved me off with a scoff, and told me not to say that. I told him I barely had reason to be upset. Of course I was sad to break something our friend had given me, but it didn’t change anything. He was just as gone either way.

He gave me an odd look at that. But he gave in, and allowed me to pull him (and he, of course, pulled me), back inside.

Even as the daylight faded, we stayed up for a while, after that. I stopped it earlier than I might have under different circumstances though, he was still sick after all. He tried to convince me he would be fine if we just stayed on the couches, but I insisted he move to a proper bed. He took a familiar post in the room just across the hall from mine, but requested I leave my door open. He didn’t want me to get sick from him, but he’d sleep better with an extra assurance I was there. Truthfully, so would I.

I could hardly see him from my bed, of course, but I listened for the longest time through our twin doorways. It took longer than I would wish, but eventually his breathing steadied into the steady thrum of sleep. I waited, lying awake, but aside from the occasional faint cough it stayed strong.

I was finally able to settle down to sleep, but found it evaded me. Something felt just felt off, and anytime I started to drift I would suddenly jerk awake. The sense of wrongness grew until it reached a point where I decided to get up. I planned to do a quick lap around the house, just to reassure myself that nothing was awry, but as I stood I noticed a fog as I had never seen before outside my window. No sooner had I seen this than I heard creaking from the hallway, and when I rushed out I found my friend. His eyes were barely open, still caught in the delirium of slumber. Sleep-walking then, but he had a strange purpose as he passed me, stepping quickly through the house and pulling open the front door before I could stop him.

His husband stood there.

I stood frozen but- no. It wasn’t right. Not even a ghost, an apparition, like his deceased visage seen through the ripples of a dream. Its clothes shifted, like a picture that changes at different angles, and no matter how I turned I could never quite find his eyes. It held out its hand, and my friend took it.

They danced. I less heard than felt their old song as it swelled around them, guiding their movements the same as it so often had in life. As they swirled I caught my friend’s eye through the mists, though he didn’t see me. He looked only at the face of the vision, his own face serene in a way that spoke of coming home from a long trip, contented just to be among friends. Any waking worry was smoothed from his brow. I was transfixed, unable to move lest I interrupted the scene.

I don’t know how long they danced for. It may have been hours, but eventually the music began to fade. The dance came to an end, pulling back to the house, and the specter slipped out into the mist, away from my friend’s still outstretched hand. He watched it go from the doorway, an emptiness in his face. 

As my friend seemed to go devoid of feelings in the apparition's absence, I felt my own rouse. No wonder he was getting sick, how long had he been losing sleep and spending nights barefoot out in the cold? What wicked thing cast this spell on him? Pulled him from his home with nothing to offer but a cruel reminder left in its wake?

I rushed to his side, and ushered him back into my home.

He didn’t say anything, for the longest time. He was definitely fully awake, but he just sat upon the couch, studiously avoiding my gaze. Finally, in a quiet sort of voice, he asked if I had seen it too. I said yes, and his face poured into relief. I told him we would find a way to stop the thing, but he gave me a funny look. 

I thought he must be confused. I had seen it, yes, but it was still a dream. It wasn’t the person we knew and it was hurting him.

He immediately pushed back at me, distraught. He was under no illusions, he cried, he knew it was only a dream. But he needed this dream. He needed it.

This gave me pause. What good could something like that do? But I thought back over the events I had witnessed. The spirit itself, in truth, seemed to pose little danger, and after the shock wore off his face I thought looked empty before now focused into something wistful, not hollow. 

I could admit he seemed happier for it, these past few weeks. But even if the vision wouldn’t hurt him, the problem stood, as I told him, that he only met it in the dead hours of night, and not in his home but out in the cold. Their meetings were pushed into the dark, and it was sickening him.

He sat in still quiet. He didn’t know if he could meet it anywhere else, he admitted. But he could try.

We slept in, for a long time, that morning.

We spent that next day much in the same way as the first. But sometimes, as I passed him, I could hear him humming.

The next week we made more plans together, after, of course, he was feeling better. He even started looking well rested. It was just simple shopping, or walking together to pick up his daughter from school. It was nice. Often, as we walked together, I could feel the hole at the corner of my vision. I’m sure he could see me glancing at it, but he let it go unmentioned. Somehow, its presence didn’t feel as oppressive as before.

There was still a moment again, when I was alone at home, where it grew, and I felt it should swallow me. I reached again for something to throw, but looked this time, before. It was just a winter hat, but one that belonged to my departed friend. Funny I’d barely noticed it these last months, it only became mine after he forgot it so many times I decided to just keep it. He hadn’t noticed for at least a week. When I remembered myself, and pulled back to the present, the emptiness had withdrawn back to its corner.

I wore the hat the next day. My friend noticed it with a smile, surprising me by actually speaking the memory. We laughed together about the only man in the world who could fail to find the hat he was looking for on his best friend’s head. There was no proper reason for it, but it felt like he was walking with us, and the specter hardly burned at all.

Later that week his family came to meet me at my shop. He pointed out flowers to his daughter, naming the ones that had been his husband’s favorite (anything yellow, really). In the quiet moments as I put together a last bouquet, I could see him swaying. We walked home together, sticking to each other up until the last moment when I split off to my home. 

I sit there now. I have new flowers in my sills, now that it is warm enough, little golden buds peeking out. The void is still there, and perhaps it shall always be, but it is smaller now. And when I glance at the flowers in my window, it doesn’t scream, but sings.

#my writing #creative writing #ghosts #death mention #I've never claimed to be a subtle writer #shout-out to #@justheretolurk24 #for being the only reason this is at all edited #anyways the docs name (and. only name/title) for this one is 'barbie and the twelve dancing princesses' #for reasons I'm sure are completely and totally obvious for realsies #this isn't strictly about Lauren and Trickster so I'm not tagging them but. in my heart

[aajjks]

“We’re sorry, but she’s already been cremated. Her family’s setting up for the funeral, so contact them if you can.

We honestly think he should be up for adoption. You claim that’s he’s working on his behavior and mental health, but both Y/n and CPS says otherwise. We haven’t brought it up to him only because his current condition is already bad without being around either of you, so we’ll wait until one of you is allow to visit the other. But here’s the letter.

‘Dear Jungkook,

I think… This will be the first time I’ll be admit ting this aloud. But I think it’s appropriate to say it now. For the first time in forever, I finally found my peace. I didn’t think it could happen, but it did. It all started with you.

Since the beginning, all my relationships went to shit. From being cheated on all the way to being abused physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. After all the turmoil, I vowed to myself, I was completely done. I was NOT going to allow myself to be hurt again by any man.

That’s when I started teaching; mainly because it was a way to keep my mind from reliving the trauma I endured. I didn’t think I’d be a teacher for long, but here I am 5 years later. Still in the little town that I call home– despite the negative memories it shares. Anyways, being a teacher for this long has brought me immense joy. Being surrounded by younglings makes me happy. While it keeps me busy, it also makes me appreciate life more seeing the smiles I could bring others when I couldn’t bring myself to smile for myself. It gave me a reason to live. That includes your son.

He’s brought so much energy and spunk to not only to my students, but to myself. He’s a very admirable, kind and thoughtful person. I hope he stays this way when he’s an adult. But sometimes… he slips up.

There have been times where I couldn’t pay attention to him and he’d suddenly get violent. Thankfully not towards me, but unfortunately, towards other students. He once stabbed a girl with a coloring pencil which resulted to almost ME being sued & seeing her at the hospital. Thankfully, I managed to escape a lawsuit, but that doesn’t excuse the other violent tendencies he’d share with other students.

But that’s just one minor thing compared to everything else I’m about to talk about.

Every conversation we’d have, you’d always talk about your “game” from your past sexual experiences. I am in my right to not tell you my personal business, but everytime you talked about it, it made me insecure, uncomfortable, and even question if loving you is even worth it. Do you realize how much you bosted yourself? It’s almost contradicting. Especially when you claim to regret having a fuckboy past–yet act like you have no problem doing it all over again, and forgetting about me. Were the times you harped on me being yours & being your son’s mother lies? Did you just say that to make me feel special? In that case, just call up your hoes & offer them to be his mothers instead. I’m sure they’d love to be in his and your life now.

Speaking of sex, were you always this perverted? You didn’t think I noticed the way you look at me and make suggested comments? Everytime we’re around eachother, you always have this aura about you; a look in your eyes that I can’t help but squirm under. And definitely not in a good way. While I might’ve found you attractive, you were definitely a pushy man. All those times you insisted seeing me or doing something as a favor, I couldn’t help but think you’d expect something in return.

So, I kept rejecting all your advances & hints. Maybe in another life we would’ve been together different history that wouldn’t affect how we see each other. But in this life with how things played out for both of us, I don’t think we would’ve been the healthy ideal couple you thought we could’ve been.

I hope you find the perfect wife & perfect mother figure your son deserves.

~ Goodbye,

Y/n L/n’

Um… yeah…”

“Are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding me… y-you had her cremated before I could see her? How fucking dare you! I’ll be contacting yns family, it’s only her sister that’s left in her family. Wow this is so cruel! I-I couldn’t even get to see her for the last time- no jeon seol is my child! I told you we’re trying our best, I can’t lose my son too- fuck I’ll go insane… yn…. Give me the letter- oh my…. Yn… felt so much about me and I wasn’t aware? I-I can’t believe this… yn loved me? She was… jealous and hurt.. oh my God I fucked up…. Fuck fuck FUCK…”

#ask: mi!jk

[eddiemunsonfanfic]

Tonight Eddie was starring in the dream I was having (even if a bit of a background character) and now I kind of feel like turning it into an Eddie x Reader fanfic.

I’m going to try to explain it (but mind me, dreams tend to be senseless) and you tell me if it’s something you’d like to read, pretty please?

So for family reasons I was with my extended family on a rich neighborhood, I don’t know the name of those places in English, those housing areas outside towns, that are fenced and only the people living there can access and they have stuff like pools, gyms, golf areas and tennis areas, stuff like that,inside, I’m not even sure if there’re those in the USA (No, I have not tasted those myself, but I worked for mild-wealthy people for a little bit...their world really is not like ours.)

And Eddie was a worker there (not even sure what kind or how).

Anyway, the place was in a natural reserve, with tons of important plants of whatever, and the reason why I was there with family was because one of my family member was a lead investigator of those plants.

Also, for said rich people to be able to live in that place, they needed to allow public visitation to most of the area, so you could see tourists of every social status wandering around. And I don’t mean to speak ill of the rich, but these ones were very condescending and degrading. They also had some private areas where tourists couldn’t walk in but they didn’t mark them because they had fun throwing security guards into unsuspecting non-wealthy toursits when they wandered into a private area.

So there I was lol. When it was time for my family to leave, there was no place for me in any car (story of my family life lol I’ve been saying I need my driving license for years and years now) except the car of a distant cousin.

Said cousin told the family to get going and that we’d be joining them soon. Apparently, he was trying to date one of the rich girls so he was now talking with the family, trying to make a good impresson, dragging me along.

So the people were being just their asshole selfs, they were condescending, all that (sorry by my lack of English skills this morning). And at some point of laughing at the non-wealthy tourists, they said how the other day one of them walked into a private area and one of the secutiry guards threw him out of it a bit too strongly, to the point the little dog the tourist had with them was knocked against the floor and died.

And I had enough so I told them (particulary, the mother of the girl my cousin dated, since she seemed to be the leader) that if someone touched my dogs/cats like that, I’d rip their throat with my bare teeth.

Eddie was around and I want to believe he may have been impressed, lol.

Anyway, there was a tense silence for a second but then they chuckled it off saying how I knew nothing, and the woman kept saying how I had to see that a dog’s life was not that important, and being condescending of me not understaning life and the world, and they just kept going with their bullshit but I was not backing down.

I was done so I walked away from the main group. A group of women (from that family) who seem had not grown out of their mean girl years followed me anyway with the excuse of showing me around, and they were being assholes and mean to me all the time, so sweet Eddie came to my rescue, despite not knowing me, with a random excuse of me being needed somewhere. Thanks Eddie!

Also, a couple of the women thought Eddie was attractive, but in the sense of wantin to tease because “well he’s not really bad looking and he’s poor, so imagine how it’d shake the family if they see us talking/hanging with him *insert evil rich girl laugh*”, so they were pissed to see him talking to me.

I was getting very upset with my cousin because we’d been hours there, we were supposed to have met with out family hours ago (I knew they’d be pissed at me), he kept making excuses, and I decide to leave by myself, but I had no car, nothing, and the place was in the middle of nowhere.

So again, darling Eddie offered to help me out of there.

Then...dreams had to be dreams and ruin everything by changing plots having a plane crashing on the place (that wouldn’t be added to the fic lol).

So...do I try turning this into a fic??

Thanks to Morpheus for sending me this dream, by the way, it was exasperating but it was fun too.

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader

[orbitingtheson]

5 December 2247

Is it selfish not to give my sister our childcare bot now that our kids are older?

When we had our first child, we tried using a free municipal bot for childcare but weren't thrilled with the experience. Thankfully, we were able to afford a custom private bot that's been a part of our family ever since. Our kids are still with us, but old enough to not really need the constant watching anymore, but we still have plenty of chores and other tasks for the bot. And honestly it just wouldn't quite feel like home without it.

My sister's just starting her family, and neither her nor her partner has the financial resources we did. She waited until last week, two months before her son's due to be decanted, to tell me she's expecting me to give her our bot.

I don't want to.

On top of not wanting to lose the extra help around the house and the simulated company, she and her partner can't afford a new skin or personality for it. We'd either have to pay most of the cost of new bot, or do a factory reset on ours which I don't think would be a fun experience for our kids when they go visit their Aunt and their new cousin.

Do I owe it to her anyway?

- part of the family

It makes my life easier when both of your questions can be answered with one word: No.

Don't get me wrong, you are your sister's keeper. Her well being is something you should be interested in and care about. Just as you should everyone else's.

But it isn't selfish of you to keep something you enjoy having even if someone else wants it. Even if they believe they'd make better use of it. It might be slightly different if municipal bots weren't freely available, but that's not the world you live in.

If you want to help your sister, and you have the resources and freedom to do it, you could consider chipping in towards or even buying a new bot for her. But your bot is part of your family, even if it isn't a person.

#science fiction #advice

[pinkhairandpokemon]

What's the best thing about Galar? The worst?

Hop:

I’ll answer this one! I think simultaneously the best and worst thing about Galar is the Gym Challenge. Because on one hand, it can really help young rookie trainers grow. A lot of the gym leaders, most notably the older ones, are very encouraging to the challengers. Heck, it’s a tradition for the first three gym leaders to get together and cheer on any challengers who’ve earned three badges before they leave Motostoke. And it’s not like that false kind of encouragement, either. I mean, maybe from the higher ups like Chairman Rose it was, but the Gym Leaders genuinely believed in us and looked forward to seeing how the we’d continued to grow. Also, it’s one of the biggest competitions in the world! People from all over come to watch it, and everyone is always in such high spirits during its duration. You can really feel just how much it brings all of Galar together.

But it’s like I said- the gym challenge wasn’t exactly perfect, either. I came to realize that after I went through mine and had two people close to me become champions. First of all, the endorsement system. I guess it wasn’t exactly hard to get an endorsement, a lot of gym leaders would take on mentoring new trainers for a few weeks before the start of the challenge and endorse them. But it WAS hard for anyone who didn’t live in a town with a gym leader, or some sort of league official. Blake and I got lucky cause my brother just so happened to be champion. If he wasn’t then we probably would have had to take a train ride halfway across the region just to find a gym leader willing to endorse us. Which would’ve been a mess for all sorts of reasons.

And then there was the pressure. Which REALLY started to set in after you got past the third badge. A lot of people don’t get that far, and once you do suddenly the whole region has its eyes on you. For us, it seemed like the competition really heated up at that point. The league often portrayed it as friendly and all in good fun, but honestly it wasn’t like that all the time. There were a handful of trainers with a very toxic and overall nasty attitude who made it their goal to bring down other challengers. Even some of gym leaders were starting to show frustration from losing so much, though thankfully I don’t think anyone took it out directly on the challengers. But nowadays I do question exactly how healthy that was, especially for younger gym leaders like Bea or Allister. And don’t get me started on social medias! Honestly Blake and I learned to stay off it during our gym challenge. I guess this is something you can never avoid, but people on the internet got pretty weird. Gossiping about the challengers, harshly judging them, Blake even said they got a few dirty looks and remarks from the fans of the gym leaders they beat. Even though beating them… was literally the point of the challenge. Why on earth would you hate someone for doing well at a challenge? I get that a gym leader might be your idol or something, but seriously, it’s not the end of the world if they’re beaten!

And don’t get me started on what happened if you DID become champion. I’d known Blake for three years before our gym challenge and before that they’d NEVER met Leon in person. My best friend AND neighbor, who was practically like family, never met my older brother. All because Lee never had the time to come home. Even on holidays- we always had to travel up to Wyndon to spend them with him! Not that we were upset at him, we were more than happy to go visit. But still, looking back it was ridiculous! Then there was the situation with Chairman Rose, which was a whole thing of its own…

Thankfully Blake did have it a bit easier as Leon took over the role of chairman. He was no where near as hard on them, and went out of his way countless times to make it easier than it had been for him! But even then there was a lot of pressure their status gave them, like from the media for example.

So yeah, I wouldn’t trade my experience for the world, BUT as much as the gym challenge helped me grow- not just as a trainer but also as a person- there were still some deep rooted issues going on within the league at the time. Thankfully, ever since Leon’s taken over he’s made some huge changes! There’s no longer an endorsement system so it’s far easier for trainers to sign up and compete. Better battle safety regulations have been put in place, challenger privacy is far more protected- no more announcers randomly revealing a challenger is an orphan in the middle of a gym battle or something like that. And he’s been working to change the requirements that come with earning the champion title. Galar’s current champion- the kid who dethroned Blake- is no longer expected to live in Wyndon or randomly attend exhibition matches out of the blue. He’s considering putting something similar to Paldea’s system in place- where the “Champion” title is just a reward, an achievement- like it’s supposed to be- not a responsibility that impacts your whole life.

It hasn’t been an easy change for everyone, and there’s still a lot of things left to fix, but it’s definitely help ease the stress for both challengers, league officials, and their Pokémon. Sorry this sort of turned into a spiel about my brother, but I’m seriously really proud of him!

#(ooc: im so sorry this basically turned into a headcanon dump. this got way longer than i anticipated) #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pokeblog rp #rival hop #pokemon #unreality #long post

[rosethornewrites]

The reblog about Native spirits reminded me of the times when I learned not to fuck with the paranormal. I’m at least somewhat sensitive, and I’ve learned to close off.

First: When I was 12-13 and at a church youth retreat for my Confirmation class (yeah, grew up Christian), for some reason someone brought out a Ouija board. At one point I was using it with our pastor (I don’t know how this happened), and a spirit told me she was my ancestor, gave her name, and said she was from Sweden. I disregarded this until a couple years ago when I was working on our family tree. My great-great grandfather’s wife shared her name, and was from Sweden. The pastor would have had no way of knowing this back in the early 90s.

Second: Same night, the girls who liked to bully me got me to use it with them. I saw an opportunity to play a prank, and I moved the planchette to tell them they would die getting hit by a car. The next day, they came to me pale and shaking, and asked if I’d moved the planchette. They’d gone to a gas station for snacks down the road and had nearly been hit by a car. I have no idea if it’s anything other than a correlation, but I would never touch a Oujia board ever again.

Third: In high school, a friend of mine who lived near a forest preserve noticed that all the deer came out of the forest reserve at night. You could walk right toward them and they would refuse to go back in. So we did what stupid kids do: we went into the forest. We were about 200 meters in when a weird ball of mist coalesced on the path about 50 meters ahead, then came toward us. We booked it.

Fourth: In college, on break, another friend and I decided we’d go to a place well known as a mob dumping ground because it was rumored to have ghosts. This was my last time fucking with the paranormal, because something followed me home. I was driving straight, and an air freshener I had wedged in the passenger side visor to keep the broken light switch off somehow became unwedged and flew across the car to hit me in the shoulder, hard. Again, as I was driving on a straight road. I was staying with another friend at the time, and her cats went nuts the moment I came home. She wound up reading the Bible aloud to get it to leave.

Fifth: After my dad died, he visited me in dreams, talking about things that had just happened. At one point, before the memorial, I heard his slippers shuffling in the hallway when I was half-asleep. Once he came to my dream all excited, but my alarm went off before he could talk to me. It turned out a player had been traded from my favorite baseball team to his, totally something he’d call to gloat about, so I knew why he’d come to my dream right away.

I learned to be closed off, and one of the last times I opened was when my mom took me to the location where my father passed away, to see if he was there. He wasn’t. He still sometimes visits me in dreams, but it’s pretty rare anymore.

When my grandmother died in 2019 to dementia, my mom and I were racing to the nursing home to be with her when she passed. We parked, and suddenly I had a feeling we were too late. Didn’t tell my mom, and we hurried in. Her phone rang with the news before we reached her room. Afterward, while end of life issues were being dealt with, I sat outside the room with her body, and I let myself open, and she came to me. She was worried about the family, and rightly so since there was a lot of strife over end of life care and one of my family members is still angry and blaming folks that she died. But I told her we would be okay, and Grandpa (he died before I was born) had been waiting an awfully long time to dance with her again, and she should go join him. And I felt her leave. (I actually freaked out one of my family members, too, when one of them was all “I can feel her spirit right above us,” and I said, “Actually, she’s standing next to Aunt J.”)

This is something I don’t talk about a whole lot, mostly because people get weird about it, but it’s my truth. I don’t go looking for spirits, and I certainly don’t do anything stupid that would draw their attention to me or upset them. We may not understand the paranormal, but it’s always good to be respectful of it regardless.

I hate most ghost hunting shows, since they largely stir things up in ways that could be dangerous to folks beyond them.

#spirits #paranormal #respect

[clunelover]

1. I’m being a really good wife and planning to not harangue Jeremy for, as far as I can see via bank account, paying for multiple meals out with his family (specifically, amounts make it look like he paid for everyone). My anger is not about the money, it’s about the idea that his mom would hear that her son is out of a job and then let him pay for a bunch of stuff. But - that money is gone. The trip is ending. It was a unique circumstance that will not continue (I mean - if he came home and started wining and dining other people, we’d have words, but I know that’s not going to happen). There would be no way I can discuss it without turning it into just “your mom sucks,” so I’m not gonna! Oh plus I mean she did cook some dinners for them, so maybe I’m just so primed to hate her that I’m not seeing that maybe this is cool? All I know is, it’s different than my parents (the good ones at least) would handle it if I had lost my job and was visiting! They’d pay for everything or, if they didn’t have money, we’d just eat all meals at home.

2. As I’ve discussed here, I’ve long thought I have ADHD. Multiple psychiatrists have said no, it’s just anxiety and/or hypomania that presents similarly. I really disagreed, but finally got the in depth neuropsych exam which confirmed this. They said that my trauma and anxiety can coalesce into very similar presentation. Jeremy and BFF have both maintained “that’s BS, you’re just a good test taker, you so clearly have it.” I tried to just accept it, because like - the buck kind of stops there and I don’t want to alarm my providers by appearing to diagnosis shop? Jeremy often encourages me to just try his Adderall (he doesn’t take it every day so there’s sometimes some extra) but I’ve been nervous to do it cause what if it makes me too on edge and jittery and then I waste a day feeling shitty and not getting stuff done? So I decided that today, home alone with no obligations but also some stuff I would like to focus on, I’ll try it.

I took it a little over an hour ago, and so far: calm but also sleepy. It’s like it shut my brain up enough to see what I really am: tired. Would like to go back to bed more than try to focus on writing or laundry but I know I need to test it out on something for which I need focus.

It’s extended release though so maybe I will try to take a nap quick and then do that. What does this mean? I think if it makes me chill rather than energized, that’s a check in the “could be ADHD” column? But also, if it just makes me want a nap, that wouldn’t be something useful for day to day, eh?

It is pretty rad though experiencing a quiet mind. Like, only one, or at most a small handful, of thoughts at a time? Not something I am used to.

[craftherpes]

NYC trip

Hey. I took a trip to New York January 12-16. I’m going to write about it here and link to my other social media so I can just type it out once. Please see earlier posts for photos- I made like, 15 posts to dump all the pics. 

So, the inciting reason to go to nyc all alone was because Joey McIntyre (of The New Kids On The Block) was having a concert at Carnegie Hall, announced as how he was planning to celebrate his 50th birthday. If I had done nothing else, this concert would have made the trip worth it. It wasn’t the only thing, though! 

So, I work nights. I finished work Thursday morning, and after a stop at home for my winter coat, I was on my way. I drove to visit some friends north of Philly, so I could leave my car with them. It was so good to see all of them. We went out to dinner (I had to do something to thank them for watching my car), which was so nice- I’ve only seen these friends once since the beginning of the pandemic, and sitting down to have a meal together made me feel so good. 

Friday morning, I got dropped off at a train station in New Jersey, from where I took a train to NYC. I enjoy trains- it was a quiet and pleasant journey. 

When I got to Penn Station, I transferred to the subway and dropped off my luggage (it was 2 duffles, one of which I had torn on the way). Then I took off to wander around Manhattan. I had no plans for the afternoon. I threw on my The Wanderer t-shirt (the one I embroidered the signatures onto) and went over to FAO Schwartz to find Johnny Tammaro, who was in that cast and whose signature is on the sleeve. All of his coworkers were so sweet, making sure I knew that he was around and needed to see my shirt. I also got to a few other shops, and I bought myself a new wheeled suitcase because I was over carrying duffle bags. 

I went back to my hotel and checked in, caught a few hours of sleep. I got up and had a bath, then threw my Wanderer shirt back on and headed out to see Wicked. I bought this ticket when I found out that Mike Wartella (who starred in The Wanderer) was playing Boq. He was amazing, as was the rest of the cast. I cried, even though I knew the basic plot and the music. I waited outside the stage door for him, and the grin when he saw the shirt was totally priceless. 

After getting a quick picture with him, I headed to RPM Underground, where I met the fabulous BlockTok crew. They were so charming and welcoming, but they’d been there for several hours, so we didn’t stay too much longer after I arrived. I had a lovely walk back to the hotel with C and her hubby D, who were also staying there. They were really awesome, and we made tentative breakfast plans. 

Saturday morning was breakfast with my hotel buddies, hearing about their family, their NKOTB experiences, and sharing mine. We were going shopping together, but lost each other in the M&M store. We texted that we’d catch up later. Noon was the planned BlockTok meetup in Times Square (C and D had other plans). So I got to meet a few more of them, and after we hung out there for a bit, I headed back to the hotel to sleep another few hours and get a nice long bath. 

Then it was time to get ready for the *main event*. I didn’t get a picture of my outfit, but I was very happy with the look I put together. As a bonus, there’s a really awesome acquaintance I had been struggling to maybe meet up with- guess who was seated right behind me? I was luck enough to have a really good seat- I was in one of the boxes along stage right, in the first tier. And when I say it was really good... the comparable box on stage left was occupied by Joey McIntyre’s wife and kids. 

The concert was... epic. He had so many fabulous guests, including one of his sisters, his son (the talent runs in the family in both cases), Debbie Gibson, Shoshana Bean, and of course the other 4 New Kids. I can’t begin to explain what a wonderful show they put on. I laughed, cried, sang along, was silenced by awe, and touched so many times. It was amazing watching him, especially when he was trying not to cry himself. 

When I left the concert, I broke off from my friends to drop my new tshirt off at my hotel. I headed back out one of the fan-run afterparties. I turned onto 7th Ave, and someone walking up behind me quickly was making ‘brrr’ noises with their lips. I was a little weirded out. The person passed me... and it was HIM. Joey McIntyre. I moved a little faster to keep up with his group and took a couple of pic of his back because my friends weren’t going to believe me. I didn’t speak to him because he was talking with someone next to him, and I didn’t want to be rude. I did turn my head at one point and realize I was walking next to Griffin (his eldest son), who wasn’t talking to anyone, so I told him that he had done a brilliant job. They crossed the street and I continued to the party. 

I didn’t stay long, the party was just so crowded. So I headed out. I ended up at Krispy Kreme in Times Square and had a short conversation with some random teenagers about Broadway, Billy Porter, and the fab dresses he wears. I stopped to pick up some takeout and as I left, a pair of people, one in a NYNUK hoodie, was walking by, and I spoke to them (Can I just say I love being in a group that wears their association almost literally on their sleeves?). We walked back to our respective hotels which weren’t far apart, and while I don’t remember her name, but I told her that if she contacted me, I’d send her the one song from The Wanderer. 

Sunday, I put on my ‘The Middle Ages Were Magic’ shirt and grabbed a subway to Washington Heights. I’ve been trying/hoping to go to The Cloisters for literal years. I’m a little upset that someone put it at the top of a hill- that was mean. But once I made it to the top, it was worth the climb. This is where most of the pics I posted were taken. I was there for hours, though a good bit of it was spent sitting. My feet hurt so badly by this point in my trip. But I had a lovely chat with one of the security personnel, and her insights were really interesting. 

I went back to my hotel and crashed. I went to bed at about 5pm, slept solidly for about 5 hours, spent an hour setting my stuff up to be ready to leave quickly, and then slept at least 5 more, maybe 6 hours. (Can you tell I didn’t sleep a lot on my trip?)

I caught another train Monday morning and my amazing friend picked me up and took me back to her house. Then it was all long drive. I made it back in plenty of time to be at work that night, if a little worn out by then. 

If I met you and left you out, I’m so sorry. I have memory issues, and I hope you’ll let me know what it is that I forgot. Also, if you have any pictures that include me, I’d love to see them. 

#nyc #nkotb #joey mcintyre #concert #carnegie hall #blockheads #travel #met cloisters #blocktok