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bookishdaze · 2 months

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My too long theory post about Mae as Reverse Caesar? This is multiple theories, really...

My theories on Mae's origins have ranged from her just being a lone smart girl among feral humans, to her coming from an underground civilization living in a bunker (My personal favorite. I like Fallout, lol).

Here's one that came to mind recently. It's not my main theory for her, (I still think she's just from some colony of smart humans) but it's my most "creative" and "crazy" one, but if people are allowed their crazy astronaut theories, THEN I'M ALLOWED THIS ONE 🤪

I'm gonna be calling her Mae/Nova for this.

Feel free to poke holes in this theory by the way, hehe.

This theory came to me after watching the new trailer, where we hear her being called "Nova," and we also get a shot of her riding on horseback with Raka. It reminded me a lot of Nova from War riding with Maurice.

So I thought, 'Huh, we're getting another blonde girl named Nova riding on horseback with an orangutan in the exact same way. It almost looks like the characters and plot for KOTPOTA could be a reworked version of what a plot could look like for a direct War sequel following a grown up Cornelius with Nova and Maurice and ohhhhhh-'

*puts on tinfoil hat* So my weird train of thought led me to this wacky theory: Mae/Nova is a human that was taken in by Raka as a child, and he has been raising and taking care of her. Just like Maurice did for Nova. She's kinda like Tarzan.

At first I had thought Raka met Mae/Nova because she was separated from her human colony and he was helping her get back home before they ran into Noa.

I also thought that maybe they come from a place where humans and apes already coexist, and I honestly still think either of these is the case tbh, but this part of a recent article made me think otherwise.

The "rabbit-in-headlights" bit makes me doubt she comes from a place where there are intelligent humans. (It's still possible she could be. I'll get to that later). To me this sounds like she's smarter, but still has some "animal" behaviors.

As for why Raka took her in, it can totally just be coincidence that we have another friendly orangutan who adopted a young girl.

Or maybe it became some sort of, ehh, tradition? Him wearing a necklace with Caesar's symbol and talking about how apes and humans used to live side by side makes him sound like a religious person. Maybe somewhere along the line, it became custom for those who follow his faith to "adopt a Nova" to raise and take care of, like Maurice did.

There is a difference, though. Raka could have been taking care of Mae/Nova, but he still sees her as an...well, an animal. A very smart animal that he feels a responsibility towards. I know him viewing her as an animal sounds pretty harsh, but keep in mind that humans have regressed to be like animals at this point.

And there's also this scene where he just....tosses her some food. It's no different from the way humans toss a friendly animal some food, really.

"But why does she seem frightened by the apes at the fireplace if she's been raised by Raka?"

I think she's scared of Noa here.

Orangutans are actually solitary creatures (I googled, lol), so it's very possible that it's just been her and Raka, and any newcomer makes her nervous.

Ok ok ok, so he's a guy who has taken in an animal that shows signs of intelligence and has taken it upon himself to nurture and care for this animal because his personal beliefs tell him that in doing so, he could potentially make the world a better place.

Like Will did with Caesar.

"So she's reverse Caesar." Yeah. That's pretty much what I've been trying to get at with all my rambling. Yay, parallels!

And we know Will cared for Caesar, but he always saw him as an animal. A very smart animal, but an animal nonetheless. He had him on a leash, and as much as he didn't want to, he still took him to the primate shelter. It wasn't Will being cruel, he just treated Caesar the way any human would have treated an animal, no matter how close they are.

Of course, like Caesar, Mae/Nova is gonna go through some changes. She's a young girl growing into adulthood. She'll have "needs and wants," as this article states.

Those needs and wants could be many things. To be regarded as equal. No longer wanting to feel inferior. And if she truly is some lone smart girl among a world of feral humans, she's also gonna feel really really lonely. (Think about it. If she does not come from a colony of smart humans and she truly is the only one, that's tragic. I'd be depressed, man).

So she'll also want friendship and companionship. To have a friend or anyone she can relate with. She'll most likely find this with Noa, since the article says, "...there are far more parallels and commonalities between the two of them than they might have originally imagined."

Okay, one question came to mind when coming up with this theory.

Why is she smarter than other humans? I got a few theories.

Theory 1. She could still be someone who grew up in a colony of intelligent humans, whether it be a colony in an underground bunker or anywhere else. It doesn't matter. But something terrible may have happened, like her colony was killed off, or she was separated from them as a little girl. Then Raka found her and took her in. Like Tarzan!

Theory 2. This one and the third one won't be as satisfying to fans, I assume. But maybe Raka noticed a lone child that was smarter than most, and he decided to take her in and help her intelligence grow.

Theory 3. She started off as an unintelligent feral girl, but being raised by an ape allowed her to slowly gain her intelligence back. I actually like this one. For starters, it's similar to the Planet of the Apes novel from 1963, where one of the astronauts became feral and unintelligent because of spending too much time in a cage with feral humans at a zoo, and Nova actually gained the ability to speak and became intelligent after spending a year or two in space with Ulysse, the protagonist.

Theory 4. She's like Megamind where she was launched into space from an alien planet as a baby while her homeworld burned all around her and she crash landed onto Earth. THERE'S YOUR ASTRONAUT THEORY.

I'm kidding. That was a joke. I know April Fool's was two days ago.

As for her name, we've gotten three so far. Mae, Nova, and Echo. I like to think of her name as a sort of symbol or indicator of her character growth, where I assume she'll gain the ability to speak at the end, or will have grown into herself as a person.

She'll start off as Nova. A common generic name given to all humans, given to her by Raka.

Then Echo. A more unique name given to her by Noa, but still not her own.

Then, finally, Mae. Her true unique name that she was either born with, or she picks out for herself.

Aaaaand I think that's it. I'm done. I know that was long, but I wanted to gather all of my thoughts and theories on Mae/Nova somewhere before I watch the movie in a month. Whatever her story is, I cannot wait to see it unfold. Now it's time for me to SLEEP.

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #planetoftheapes #kingdomoftheplanetoftheapes #please feel free to pick this theory apart #thats the best way to test if something works #trying to break it as much as you can to expose where the holes are

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pollutionofthepolls · 1 month

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#my polls #polls #random polls #tumblr polls

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translightyagami · 3 months

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Hi! I’m James, and this is my blog :^) I’ve been writing Death Note fanfiction since 5ever and this is a whole list of my OVER 50 Death Note fics.

This is a combination of my two AO3 accounts. I have all fics with trans characters marked with a T. For avoidfilledwithcelluloid, I have fics marked E if they’re explicit. Didn’t do that for my other account, coprinus_atramentarius, because all of those fics are explicit. Most of this is Lawlight, but there’s also Mikalight, Remisa, LMisa, just to name a few others. Enjoy and make sure to leave nice comments when you’re through!

avoidfilledwithcelluloid fics

Chapter Fic

sit and stay awhile complete, T

“Light has a fantasy of sitting in L’s lap, and he’s got a plan to make that a reality.”

the art of ink and flowers incomplete, E, T

“Light needs an apprentice and thinks he’s found the perfect one in young firecracker Mello. Now to deal with Mello’s uncle, the strange, mysterious, and - oops! - super hot florist Ryuzaki, who doesn’t want his nephew near a tattoo parlor. What could possibly go wrong?”

i could write it (better than you ever felt it) incomplete

“Light works in the To-Oh university library, where he meets his favorite romantic mystery author, Eraldo Coil, who later reveals himself to be the great detective L. Through the course of their working together to solve a crime, Light finds he might have feelings for L and those feelings might be shared by the detective novelist.”

your heart is an empty cup incomplete

“Light is the assistant manager of a Starbucks in NYC, and L is one of his most annoying customers. When L accuses Light (correctly) of being Kira, as well as mysteriously asking for his help on a different case, the barista has to decide if he’s ready to get in bed with the enemy – maybe even literally.”

the forest holds strange creatures complete, E, T

“Light, a paranormal research grad student, comes to a small town trying to find a mysterious cryptid. He finds L, a 10-foot-tall tree creature, who helps Light discover the greatest cryptid of all: love. The only reason this one is in the chapter fic section is because it includes a Halloween special chapter with the intro of Beyond Birthday into the cryptid AU.”

At Your Service complete, E, T

“The Yagami family owns the sprawling, exclusive Hotel Kitsune where all sorts of international espionage agents make their temporary home. That includes the great detective L, whose romantic tension with Light comes to a boiling point when he comes to stay after a long absence.”

best practices complete, E, T

“Light has been working his way to the top of the corporate ladder thanks to his own hard work, and his more-than-close relationship with L, the company CEO and founder’s son. Their relationship comes to a head when L challenges Light to open himself up, making him vulnerable to showing the true depth of what he feels for L and his own desire to explore sexual power dynamics.”

One-Shots

Lawlight

constricting, T

“Light breaks L’s favorite tea cup in their kitchen, and L eats him out because he loves his husband so much.”

tell me I’m good, E

“In the middle of the night, L receives a drunk call from Light, hiding in the bathroom at a party. The call, turning from desperate to horny, reveals more about Light than L wanted to know.”

if at first you don’t succeed E, T

“Light gave his first blow job and accidentally bit L on the dick. He tries to make up for his mistake by trying again.”

let me work on you E, T

“As the result of losing bet to him, Light has to be L’s computer desk – naked and laying over his boyfriend’s lap. Of course, when L gives him another sexy challenge, Light can’t help but rise to the occasion.”

Buried Alive

“L and Light live together in L’s underground bunker after the apocalypse scorches the Earth. They watch some VHS tapes and do some gardening.”

Our Little Secret E

“After getting his memories, his freedom, back, Light wants to give L a gift: Kira tied up at his mercy. But L isn’t so sure if that gift is the one he really wants.”

The Light of the Moon E, T

“L is a vampire and accidentally bites Light, who is haunted by dreams that make him question why he wants L to bite him again (and maybe … something more …)”

little animals E

“Light and his werewolf boyfriend L fuck in their backyard garden.”

Change OR the one where L and Light get married E, T, A gift fic for @ohgodplsdontlook.

“Six years after the Kira case closes, L and Light go have a wedding in the mansion where L spent his childhood summers. They bring the Yagami family, their baggage, and vows to share each other’s secrets.”

a divine power E

“L has a particular power that has helped him get confessions from even the most hardened, tight-lipped criminals, and he offers to use this power on Light to get an honest answer to the question “Are You Kira?” Not really believing L’s power is real (and also smelling an easy way to lie his way out of being caught) Light agrees to submit to this bizarre investigative power - not realizing that L is about to make him a *very* honest man. (TL;DR, L has a Magic Cock That Makes Anyone He Fucks Fall in Love With Him AU.)”

Possession E

“After being killed by his family for being Kira, Light makes a deal with the demon L to get back to the mortal realm - a very, very sexy deal.”

Fantasy of a Fantasy E, T

“While monitoring the Yagami family home for suspicious activity, L catches Light getting off to a dirty magazine and projects what he thinks his main suspect’s fantasies might be.”

the chains that bind us E, T

“Obligatory post-Yotsuba arc fic where Light is released from the handcuffs, and wants desperately to be back in bondage with L. Features a very creative use of the handcuff chain.”

Kept E, T

“Omegaverse AU where Light cooks up a horny evil scheme so that L won’t throw him in jail, and also lets him get that alpha lovin’ he so desires.”

so glad you’re home E, T

“L returns from a solo case and he and Light have a purr-fect homecoming together - including some spanking, cat ears, and a shower of sappy affection.”

Yours and Mine, E

“During a Kira case work day while handcuffed together, L and Light sneak off for some fun.”

Non-Lawlight

tell me the truth, T

“Light and Matsuda hit up a bar after work, and then Light hits up Matsuda for sex, praise, and a distraction from the deep emptiness inside him.”

alterations E, T

“Light comes to visit his boyfriend Mikami at his fancy law office and suggests they have sex there. When Mikami reacts unfavorably, Light has to do damage control, and it smarts a lot more than he expected.”

lizard E, T

“Light meets a beefcake guy at a bar on the anniversary of L’s death, and lets him take him home” (Lizard is my death note OC, and the fic was a wonderful commission from @queerical)

24-Hour Gym

“After the yellow warehouse goes (mortally) in their favor, Light and Mikami frequent the same 24-hour gym. Eventually, after seeing all his work out skills, Light asks Mikami if he can bench press *Kira*.”

a big bag of factory reject seeds

“Misa keeps seeing L's ghost around the apartment and eventually, she dreams about him. But everything is not how it seems.”

Short Fic Compliation

hand in unlovable hand

Okay so I’ve been answering Tumblr askbox prompts for over 2 years now, and this? This is ALL of the Lawlight fics. There are over 70 Lawlight fics in this compilation, with all the nsfw fics marked as such. Here are somethings you’ll find in this horde: an AU where L is fat; dirty talk; ghost sex; phone calls about buying a house; early morning tea; kissing; spanking; bondage; L’s hair being brushed; and much, much more. If you have wished for a particular type of Lawlight fic, it is probably in this bunch.

Containing Multitudes

Like i said, I’ve been answering all types of Tumblr prompts. These are all the multi-pairing fics that are not Lawlight. In over 20 fics, you’ll find Mikalight, Light/Misa, Misa/Takada, Misa/Rem, Light/Namikawa, Beyond/Light, Light/Matsuda, and even a few ones with Light and my DN OC Lizard. All nsfw fics are marked as such.

hereditary

All the Tumblr prompt fics I wrote specifically about the Yagami Family. About 4 fics long, includes a really nice couple of Sayu and Light sibling sadness fics.

bottom shelf erotica

These are the 5 fics that I wrote to fill Death Note kinkmeme prompts. They are few frills, dirty, sloppy, all bottom Light smut fics. Also, since I didn’t want to give myself away on kinkmeme they’re all cis stuff. (because really who else would have been throwing trans smut up there?)

something between us (anyway)

a slowly updating collection of 10 tumblr fic requests I received for the pairings of lawlight and (my DN OC) lizard/light, covering prompts including omegaverse, coffee shop AU, sexy lingerie, and much, much more.

kinktober 2021

updated each saturday of Oct. 2021, these five fics all revolve around lawlight and specific kinky prompts.

Gift Exchange Fics

your father’s son, T

A Secret Shinigami 2018 gift for AbbodonAbandon. Light and Soichiro have a talk about why Light quit the tennis team. Lots of trans shit in here.

in your shoes, E

A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @pashmina-dhaage. L is a professor who is having a quiet relationship with one of his grad students, Light. When he sees Light through his office window stepping in mud, L rushes to give him the shoes off his feet.

wash it out

A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @complicatedmerary. Mikami and Light, a pianist and violinist respectively with the same opera company, are carrying on a passionate affair while Light remains married to the opera’s soprano, Misa.

coprinus_atramentarius fics aka my smut-only ao3 account

Bottom Light

In Your Place, T, omegaverse junk series

“Ide, Matsuda, and Aizawa ask L how he deals with Omegas; Light finds out the answer firsthand.”

let go, T, omegaverse junk series

“L offers Light a chance to get out of being his Omega; Light is unsure if that's what his problem really is.”

pillow talk

“L and Light discuss his reluctance to accept Light's father's invitation to a Yagami house dinner. A little saucy conversation between two dudes who only want the worst for each other but are also a little in lust with each other. Pre-Yotsuba arc, with a still Kira!Light marinating in the joys of being evil and sleeping with the enemy.”

special, special, T

“On a packed train, Light gets felt up by someone while in his tennis uniform and likes how good they make him feel - even if it means he's being naughty. Wait until he finds out who this mystery person is ...”

To Have and To Hold, T, omegaverse junk series

“Light is an Omega learning to be comfortable in his own happiness. L is understanding what it means to take care of someone else. Together they navigate their dynamics, both Alpha/Omega and Dom/sub, in order to cultivate a deep and lasting romantic relationship. this is a multi-part work, following the first two pieces of the omegaverse junk series.”

Bottom L

Heat of the Moment, T

“L hogs the blankets in their cold-ass hotel room, and when Light complains, L drags Light's hand down to the hot, hot heat between his legs.”

made to love you, T

“Light buys an android customized to look like L, but when he finds out Mikami's peeping on he and the bot having sex, Light decides to invite the other man to partake of the perfect lover he's made.”

need you, T

“L and Light engage in a heated kitchen quickie.”

nothing wrong, T

“After L gets a bruise from their fight, Light can't stop thinking about the marks they leave on each other.”

Overcome With Emotion, T

“After Light comes home from a trip away from L, he's built up a lot of sexual tension and L's more than happy to provide himself as an outlet for release, in more ways than one.”

For.you.mp4, T

“Pretend L survived to the second arc, is horny for Kira, and while Light’s on a work trip for the NPA cybercrime division, L sends him a special, pillow-related video”

Just a Drop, T

“Light finds L's secret aphrodisiac solution and decides to test it out on the detective to *very* successful results. But Light's not immune to the strongest drug of all - love.”

give it to me

“L wants Light's big cock inside him, and Light's more than willing to oblige. But they're unprepared for how complicated things become after they sleep together.”

Making a Scene, T

“L starts being a brat when he and Light visit the Wammy House, so its up to his alpha to get to the real reason why L's so upset - using some *interesting* methods.”

Birthday Boy

“Light gives L a two-part birthday gift that leaves a mark, and L gives himself a gift that involves going down on one knee.”

In Kira’s Kingdom

“Light has L imprisoned in his Kira’s Kingdom compound. L has been trying to escape and has failed for the third time. What was it they say about third time being the charm? Well, for L it’s more like the curse: the curse of having a megalomaniac freak be obsessed with keeping him and fucking him stupid, and L being super turned on by the whole thing.”

Going Up

“L and Matsuda get stuck in an elevator, and Matsuda confesses he’s always been in love with L. In an attempt to do a good deed before he dies of overheating, L says Matsuda can do whatever he wants with him. Will he regret his selflessness when he sees how big Matsuda’s dick is, or will that be L’s heavenly reward?”

good boy

“Light calls L his good boy, but L can't help misbehaving. Ruh-roh.”

Light’s Perfect Plan, T,DN Kinktober 2023

“Light and L have sex, and the only way Light can handle the fact that he might be into L is to create an elaborate plan as justification for them to have more sex.”

A Done Deal, T

“L makes a deal with Light that if he tops for a night, Light gets him as his maid during his next solo case – pretty black dress and all. But Light, ever the manipulator, can't let L just have this one.”

#death note #my fic #masterlist #lawlight #mikalight

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sattlersquarry · 2 years

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& now i'm covered in you (steve harrington x female!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 3, inspired by Taylor Swift's "ivy") Despite having a boyfriend, you find your feelings for your best friend Steve Harrington growing tenfold over Christmas break, 1985.

Word Count: ~6k (I got carried away ahaha)

Warnings: (I'd say this one's 18+, maybe) Language, alcohol use, mentions of sex, angst related to general unhappiness and loneliness, mentions of nightmares, and canon-typical violence. Also lots of mutual pining. Extra TW for abusive, manipulative behaviors from an OC (this is a Tyler Didn'tGiveHimALastNameBecauseHeSucks hate page).

A/N: I felt unhappy so I wanted to write a fic about feeling unhappy and then kissing Steve Harrington. It turned into this. Enjoy!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14th, 1985

MY PAIN FITS IN THE PALM OF YOUR FREEZING HAND / TAKING MINE, BUT IT’S BEEN PROMISED TO ANOTHER

It’s a slow Sunday morning at the Family Video, and Steve Harrington wishes he were anywhere else but here.

His job is essentially dealing with one annoying customer after another, all day, for eight hours. It’s passable when Robin’s scheduled, but since she’s still a high schooler and just works part-time, Steve is left to fend for himself a good chunk of the time.

The bright spot in his miserable existence at the video store is when you come to visit him.

When he first got hired in October, you used to come twice a week to rent movies and talk with him. You always did a great job sounding impressed with Steve’s (albeit limited) movie knowledge when Keith hovered nearby.

As of late, the space between your visits grew significantly. And if you rented a movie, you’d use the curbside drop-off box to return it instead of coming in to see Steve. He tries not to take that personally. He rationalizes it, knowing you’re probably just busy with your classes at Roane County Community College. That was it. Nothing else.

He tries not to think about how your avoidance could have something to do with the events at Starcourt last summer. About how maybe it was related to waking up next to him in an underground Russian bunker, bloodied and bruised and drugged out of your mind. About how maybe you didn’t want to see him because you blamed him for—

Ding, ding! The bell above the door signals your entrance. Steve looks up from the returns he’s processing, wondering if he’s summoned you with the power of thought.

“Y/N!” he says, his bored expression brightening. “Hey!”

You give him a shy smile and wave.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, the gentle lilt to your voice making Steve’s heart melt. You stamp your boots, shaking snow onto the doormat. “Sorry, I know it’s been forever.”

“Don’t even worry about that,” Steve says, waving your apology away like a pesky fly. “I know you’re busy with finals.”

You join him by the counter, and the two of you catch up a little more: you talk about your classes, he talks about his job and his misadventures in babysitting.

At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. Steve hopes he doesn’t sound too eager when he asks, “Are you…seeing anyone?”

He’s expecting you to say no. He doesn’t know why—you’re pretty, really pretty, and kind. And smart. And you smell nice. Long and short of it, you’re a total catch.

So he shouldn’t be surprised when you say, “Actually, yes.”

His eyes widen. He plasters on a (fake) smile and says, “Whoa! Awesome! Who’s the lucky guy? Someone I know?”

You shake your head. For some reason, you can’t look Steve in the eye while you explain, and instead pick at your fingernails.

“He’s from a small town in West Roane County,” you say. “I met him in my psych class. His name’s Tyler.”

“Tyler,” Steve repeats it, trying not to make it sound like a curse. “What’s he like?”

“He plays baseball,” you add. “And he’s in a band.” You start scratching at a stain on the countertop. “He’s pretty nice.”

“Pretty nice?” Steve says, eyebrows pulling together. “Y/N, you deserve better than ‘pretty nice.’”

“He’s fine!” you say, a little exasperated, as if you’ve had this conversation many times before. You meet Steve’s eyes, something akin to defiance flashing in yours. “He’s great! I really, really like him.”

“That’s great,” Steve says, lying through his teeth. “Super great. I’m glad you’re happy.”

You falter. Your expression twists to one of regret, for just a moment, before you turn away.

“I should get going,” you say. “He’s meeting me at Enzo’s for lunch. But I’ll see you around, all right?”

“Sure,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, listen, sorry if I said something to upset—”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you say. A lie. You beeline toward the exit.

You’re halfway out the door when Steve steps out from behind the counter and blurts out, “You still having those nightmares?”

You pause in the doorway. You consider just leaving, pretending you didn’t hear him. But you knew you were being a bit short with him, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

You turn back into the store and shrug.

“I mean, sometimes,” you say. Another lie. You have them every night. Nightmares where you wake up in that godforsaken elevator again. Nightmares where you watch as the soldiers beat the shit out of Steve, out of Robin, out of you again and again and again, and over and over and over.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He studies you, honey-brown eyes shining like opal in the mid-morning light. He’s waiting for you to elaborate, so you do.

“I was seeing a therapist about them,” you admit. “But I was tired of wasting 100 bucks a week sugar-coating the horrible truth to someone who would never know what really happened. So I stopped going.”

“It’s hard,” Steve says. He cautiously steps closer, as if you’re a jittery animal he doesn’t want to spook. “Listen, if you ever want to talk about what happened, I’m here for you. Okay?”

Your heart twists. For a moment, you want to drop the facade. You want to tell Steve every bad thing you’ve been thinking and feeling lately. But you can’t do that. You can’t give him that burden.

So you pull him into a hug (so he can’t see your face) and say, “Thank you, Steve.”

He hugs you back, and you relish in the feeling of his arms around you. You want to stay like this forever.

But you can’t, because your boyfriend is waiting for you at a booth in Enzo’s.

Steve watches you go, a splintering feeling exploding in his chest. He tells himself it’s only because he can tell that something’s wrong, that you aren’t being fully honest. That it has absolutely nothing to do with his unrequited feelings for you, the ones he’s had since the two of you became Scoops Ahoy coworkers in May.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 27th, 1985

YOUR TOUCH BROUGHT FORTH AN INCANDESCENT GLOW / TARNISHED BUT SO GRAND

Steve doesn’t see you again for almost two weeks.

Christmas comes and goes, and he finds himself wondering about you and your elusive new boyfriend more often than he should.

You visit the store two days after Christmas with Tyler in tow.

“Who’s that with Y/N?” Robin asks, peering out the store’s large front windows from the sci-fi section.

Steve looks up from the tapes he’s organizing and almost drops them at the sight. A tall, muscular guy with piercing eyes has his arm around you as the two of you walk through the parking lot. Steve doesn’t miss how you seem to sag under the weight of the guy’s arm.

“That,” Steve says flatly, “must be Tyler.”

The two of you enter the store.

“Hey!” you say, pulling out from under your boyfriend's arm to give Robin a quick hug. “Merry Christmas, a little late!”

“Merry Christmas Y/N!” Robin says, hugging you back.

You turn to Steve and hesitate, before giving him a quick hug as well. You try not to think about how good his new aftershave smells: like cinnamon, like peppermint, like everything cozy and warm.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” you say. You gesture to Tyler. “This is my boyfriend, Tyler. Tyler, these are my friends Robin and Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Steve says, holding out his hand. He hopes the smile on his face doesn’t look too forced.

Tyler gives Steve a once-over before shaking his hand, and then shaking Robin’s.

“Y/N’s mentioned you two,” Tyler says. He puts his arm around you again. “Says you worked in the mall together, at some ice cream shop?”

“Scoops Ahoy,” Robin says. “God, I do not miss that uniform.”

You and Steve chuckle in agreement. Tyler squeezes you a bit tighter. You stiffen.

“Sucks that it burned down,” Tyler says. “Y/N says you were there when it happened. That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, eyes flicking to Robin, and then back to you. He clears his throat. “Crazy’s one word for it.”

“Did you like, see the flames—”

“Hey,” you interrupt, before Tyler’s morbid curiosity of the mall “fire” can send you into a panic attack. “I’ve got to run to the bathroom. Is there a key, or something?”

“Nope!” Robin says. “It’s just down the hall to the left.”

“Great, thanks. Ty, why don’t you pick out the movie?”

“Sure, babe,” he says, sounding a bit bored. You kiss him on the cheek and disappear down the hall.

“Need any recommendations?” Robin asks Tyler. “I know all about the foreign films and horror, and Steve’s big on the action-comedies—”

Ding, ding! A new patron enters the store—a pretty girl, around your age, wearing a low-cut sweater and bright red lipstick. Tyler’s focus immediately shifts, eyes hungry as he watches her walk toward the romance movie aisle.

Robin scrunches her nose up in disgust and shares a look with Steve, who looks pissed.

“Huh?” Tyler says, turning back to the duo when the new object of his attraction is no longer visible behind the shelves.

“Movie recommendations,” Steve says sharply. “Need them?”

“Nah,” Tyler says. He pats Steve on the back a little harder than necessary. “I’m good, champ.”

Steve bristles. Tyler breezes to the romance movie aisle.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispers. “He was totally ogling that girl!”

“He’s more than ogling,” Steve hisses. “Look!”

The two of them eavesdrop as Tyler flirts with the pretty patron, complimenting her lipstick, her sweater, her ass in those jeans. It’s shameless and pathetic, but the girl giggles and twirls her hair around her finger.

“He’s a total dog,” Robin says, crossing her arms. “We have to tell Y/N.”

Steve’s seeing red. He wants to do more than just tell you—he wants to knock Tyler down a peg. Or two. Or seven.

Before Robin can stop him, he’s charging toward Tyler and the girl. He grabs a VHS copy of Sixteen Candles off a nearby shelf.

“Hey, Tyler,” Steve says loudly, sauntering down the aisle. He slaps the tape into Tyler’s chest. “I found the movie your girlfriend was looking for.”

“‘Girlfriend’?!” the pretty patron says with a scowl. She huffs and flounces away, shoulder-checking Tyler on the way past.

If looks could kill, Tyler’s glare would send Steve six feet under.

“What the hell, man?” he says. “What about bro code?”

“We’re not bros,” Steve snaps. He steps a little closer. “Have some respect for Y/N, okay, ‘champ’?”

You emerge from the store bathroom and join the boys in the romance aisle, clueless to the tension.

“Ooh, Sixteen Candles!” you say, noticing the tape in Tyler’s hands. “I love that one!”

“I’m not watching this girly shit!” Tyler barks. He chucks the tape at you. You flinch and fumble, dropping it to the ground. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

“Wait,” you say with a frown. “Aren’t we going to rent a movie—”

“We’ll just go to the drive-in!” Tyler says. He storms toward the exit. You follow, and don’t hear Steve calling you to, “Hold on, Y/N—”

“It’s a little cold for the drive-in,” you say with an awkward laugh, “don’t you think?”

Tyler looks down at you with a sleazy smile, grabbing your belt loops and pulling you flush against him (in the middle of the goddamn Family Video).

“I mean, I know a couple ways you can warm me up. Like what you did last night…”

Shame burns through you. You hate how Tyler talks about sex so flippantly and in front of your friends.

You hate how he looks at you. Not like a person, not like a girlfriend. Like a sexual conquest.

You hate how he touches you, like a possession.

You don’t want to spend your night at the drive-in having subpar sex in the backseat of Tyler’s Ford. You want a cozy night in, with candy canes and warm blankets and hot cocoa and marshmallows and a movie you’re actually going to watch.

You gently push Tyler away from you.

“I’d rather just stay in Ty,” you say quietly.

Tyler’s expression morphs back to anger.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbles. “Fine. Get your dumbass movie and let’s fucking go.”

He leaves to smoke outside. You fidget with the hem of your sweater and watch him for a moment, too embarrassed to face your friends again.

You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Here,” Steve says softly. He hands you Sixteen Candles. You stare down at it, unable to look him in the eyes. “Is this still the one you want?”

You nod. Steve squeezes your shoulder and drops his hand.

“C’mon, I’ll get it checked out for you.”

You follow him to the counter, dragging your feet the whole way. Neither of you say anything as he finalizes the rental. Steve catches Robin’s eye from across the store and gives her a look. Robin nods, interpreting the signal.

“You know,” she pipes up, joining you two by the counter. “Steve and I only have an hour left of our shift. If you hang with us until then, we can go get food after.”

“Sounds fun, Rob,” Steve says. “What do you say, Y/N?”

You want to; you really do. But—

“I shouldn’t,” you say. “Tyler’s pissed, so he won’t want to wait.”

“Tell him to buzz off!” Robin blurts out. She sucks in a breath. “Look, I’ve got to be honest. I don’t love the way he treated you just now.”

“He’s just got a temper,” you say, waving away her concern. “It’s fine.”

You reach to grab Sixteen Candles from the counter. Steve stops you, holding both your hands in his.

All the air escapes your lungs. Steve’s touch is tender and warm. He’s looking at you with concern, empathy. He’s a gentleman and would never loudly boast about sex. He’s the perfect antithesis of Tyler.

For a fleeting moment that you aren’t too proud of, you imagine that sex with Steve in his BMW would be leagues more enjoyable than anything you’ve done with your boyfriend.

“Y/N,” Steve says, voice low. “Is Tyler…hurting you?”

“No!” you say, much louder than intended. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

“You’re sure?” Steve asks, brows furrowed. “The way you reacted to him throwing the tape—I mean, anyone throwing anything at anyone makes them flinch, but I just—”

“It’s not like that,” you repeat. “But thank you for looking out for me. Both of you!”

You want to say more. You want to admit that you’ve been thinking about breaking it off with Tyler, because you have the sneaking suspicion he’s cheating on you. You want to break down crying because he’s your first serious boyfriend and it’s not going the way you envisioned at all in your head, and you’re starting to wonder if you’re even capable of being loved at all—

Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeep!

“HURRY UP!” Tyler yells from outside the store. He honks his car horn twice more.

You quickly pull your hands out of Steve’s and mumble out goodbyes, before grabbing the movie and running out of the store.

Steve frowns as you climb into Tyler’s car, the splintering in his chest from a couple weeks ago back with a vengeance.

“Oh, that guy sucks,” Robin says, watching with disdain as Tyler peels out of the parking lot. “What are you thinking, intervention?”

“Maybe we put a hit on him,” Steve says darkly. “Or, hell, we handle it ourselves. I’ve got my bat. Do you think Sinclair would let you borrow the wrist rocket?”

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31st, 1985

YOUR OPAL EYES ARE ALL I WISH TO SEE / HE WANTS WHAT’S ONLY YOURS

Now that the majority of Steve’s friends are nerds, any parties he throws these days are of the D&D variety.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and he’s allowing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to run a special holiday-themed one-off campaign at his house. The other guests include Robin, Erica, Max, and you.

Well, you’re supposed to be there. But now it’s almost an hour after the scheduled start time and the impatient Mike started the campaign already, and you’re nowhere to be seen.

Worry blooms in Steve’s chest as he checks the clock for the fortieth time.

“Dude!” Dustin says. “It’s not midnight yet!”

“I know!” Steve says. “I’m just worried about Y/N. She should be here.”

“She’s probably just driving slow,” Lucas says. “The snow’s coming down pretty hard.”

But another hour passes, and another, and you still aren’t there.

Steve slips away during the one-shot’s final battle to give you a call.

He thinks for a second that you aren’t home, until he hears: “Hello?”

“Y/N, hey,” Steve says lightly. “Happy New Year, almost.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Steve,” you say. “I’m sorry. I know, I suck.”

“You don’t suck.”

“I do. Totally, utterly, completely suck. I’m late.”

“It’s no big,” Steve says. He fidgets with the phone cord. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay. My car’s a piece of shit though and wouldn’t run, and the taxi fares right now are insane because of the holidays, and I called Tyler and asked him to drive me and he said he would, but that was, like, two-and-a-half hours ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”

The mention of Tyler spikes Steve’s blood pressure.

“Oh. Tyler. You’re…still with him?”

You blanch.

“Oh, um, yeah.”

You can almost hear his unspoken question: But why?

You aren’t sure why, but you find yourself verbalizing the thought you’ve had for weeks: “I think I’m going to break it off though.”

Steve tries not to sound too excited.

“Really?” he says. “That’s good! Seriously, you deserve better. He was a total jerk to you the other day.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “He was. He’s like that a lot more than I realized when we first started dating.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Steve says cautiously, “but why exactly did you start dating him?”

Because I like you. Because I’ve liked you since the summer, Steve Harrington, but you never made a move and obviously don’t feel the same and I just wanted to be wanted for once in my stupid life—

“I like baseball players,” you say, twisting your mouth into a smirk.

Steve’s mind flashes to the nailed baseball bat in his car trunk.

“What about guys who are burnt-out basketball players and swimmers,” Steve teases, “who also happen to be capable with a bat?”

Your chest starts to feel warm. No way he was actually flirting, right? No. He’s just joking around.

“Hmm,” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll have to circle back about that one.”

In the background, you hear the D&D group cheer.

“Sounds like they just won, or something,” Steve says, pushing the phone closer to his ear to block out the raucous noise.

“I wish I was there to see it,” you say. Before you lose your nerve, you quietly add, “I wish I was with you, Steve.”

The double meaning is not lost on Steve: with you, as in physically at the party. But also with you, as in I-wish-I-was-dating-you-and-not-that-shithead-Tyler. Steve’s mouth drops open.

He’s about to ask you for clarification, or to tell you he feels the same, but you curse.

“Shit, Tyler’s here and he brought his stupid friends. I guess he’s not giving me a ride. I’m sorry, Steve. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’ll come get you or—”

Click. You’ve disconnected the call, leaving him reeling about your maybe-confession.

He stares at the phone, mind buzzing in tandem with the droning dial tone.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1st, 1986

OH, I CAN’T / STOP YOU PUTTING ROOTS IN MY DREAMLAND

You had wanted to break up with Tyler as soon as he came over, but he brought all his friends, and his friends brought wine coolers, and you had to spend your New Year’s Eve as the designated babysitter, making sure no one got alcohol poisoning.

With a drunk Tyler passed out on the mattress next to you, you went to bed thinking about how you were going to end things. You drifted off to sleep, worried about what his reaction would be.

For the first time in almost 6 months, you didn’t have nightmares.

In fact, you had quite the opposite: a rather amorous dream about someone else. The kind of dream that has you feeling flushed, your insides fuzzy and hot.

When you wake up the next morning, Tyler is already gone, and he isn’t answering his landline. Instead of trying to track him down, you decide to make it up to your friends for missing the D&D party. You invite them to go sledding on the big hill by your apartment complex.

At some point during the festivities, you drag Robin aside and away from the others. You confide in her about your interesting dream to try and get some clarity.

Instead, she just laughs and laughs.

“It’s not funny!” you say, glaring at her.

“It is pretty funny, though,” Robin says with a giggle and a snort. “I mean, we’ve seen a lot of wild shit, but you having a sex dream about Steve—”

“It was not a sex dream!” you hiss.

“Okay, whatever. A ‘romantic’ dream about Steve. Look, I don’t know what that means, but I do know one thing: both dream-Steve and real-life-Steve would treat you a hundred times better than Tyler does.”

“There’s no way Steve feels that way about me, though,” you say. You spare a glance at him further down the hill, where he’s cheering for Erica as she speeds away on her bobsled.

“You’ll never know unless you tell him how you feel,” Robin says, playfully poking you in the shoulder. “Who knows, maybe you had that sex dream—”

“Again, NOT A SEX DREAM!”

“—because he was thinking about you, too.”

She winks and wanders to Mike and Lucas. You accidentally catch Steve’s eye. You give him an awkward smile and turn away, praying he didn’t overhear you and Robin…

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1st, 1986 & THURSDAY, JANUARY 2nd, 1986

SO TELL ME TO RUN / OR DARE TO SIT AND WATCH WHAT WE’LL BECOME / AND DRINK MY HUSBAND’S WINE

Steve never gets the chance to talk with you one-on-one during the day of sledding. It seems like you’re avoiding him. Every time he tries to strike up a conversation, and maybe bring up your statement from New Year’s Eve, you make some excuse to go on a hot cocoa run or grab an extra hat for Dustin and his cold ears.

Which is why when your roommate Molly joins the fun, Steve doesn’t rebuff her advances when she bats her eyelashes and asks, “Sled with me, Steve?”

“Sure, Molly,” he says with the kind of grin “King Steve” should’ve retired two years ago. “Sounds fun.”

He doesn’t miss how Robin’s coughing fit sounds suspiciously like: “Dingus! You’re a dingus!” as he and Molly climb onto the sled. He doesn’t miss how Erica loudly whispers to Lucas, “Wait, doesn’t Steve like Y/N?”

He definitely doesn’t miss how you look sick to your stomach, how you turn to Robin and say, “I’m not feeling well. I’m heading in.” How you make some comment about some party Tyler is throwing, how you want to rest up before you go.

Steve doesn’t see you for the rest of the day, and although you have plans with freaking Tyler, he politely declines Molly’s offer to go to the diner for a bite.

Later that night, however, he does see you again, in less-than-stellar circumstances.

It starts when he gets a phone call from Nancy Wheeler at 1 a.m.

“I’m sorry to call so late,” Nancy says as Steve rubs his bleary eyes, “but this is urgent.”

Panic rises.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, imagining Russians and demogorgons and rips in the fabric of space-time.

“It’s not Upside Down stuff,” Nancy clarifies. “It’s Y/N. She just called me, and I think something’s really wrong.”

This doesn’t lessen Steve’s panic one bit. Cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, Steve rushes to get dressed while Nancy explains that you called sobbing, absolutely hysterical.

“I couldn’t really make out what she was saying,” Nancy continues, “but she gave me an address. I would go get her, but my parents are out of town and have the car with them. I’m worried about her, Steve.”

Steve assures Nancy that he’s on it, thanks her for the information, and breaks about a dozen traffic safety laws to get to the address in record time.

The address takes him to a house on the edge of town. It’s very obviously a house owned by college boys, due to the amount of red SOLO cups littering the front yard, the music pumping through the windows, and the frat-house flag waving on the porch.

The party is loud and overwhelming. Steve cuts through the crowd, elbowing drunks left and right and loudly asking, “Does anybody know where Y/N Y/L/N is?”

His saving grace comes in the form of a bored-looking designated driver sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Is Y/N wearing a pink sweater?” the DD asks Steve. “With, like, little hearts on it and shit?”

Steve nods, remembering how cute you looked in it earlier during sledding.

“I saw her go in there,” the DD says, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the pantry.

Steve thanks the guy and slides open the door. His heart cracks into 70 pieces when he sees you sitting on the pantry floor hugging your knees to your chest, sobbing.

In one of your hands, you’re gripping a bottle of wine like it’s a lifeline.

“Y/N,” Steve breathes out, rushing to sit next to you. He puts a hand on your back. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You continue to cry and shake your head no.

“He has a girlfriend!” you say, hiccuping between every word.

“Who?” Steve asks, although he has a sneaking suspicion.

“Tyler!” you say. You take a swig of wine and start to slur your words. “I came over early and I found him making out with some girl. She’s been his girlfriend for three years. Three fucking years!” You bark out a hollow laugh. “I figured he was cheating, but turns out I was the one he was cheating with!”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. He wraps an arm around you. You lean into him and lay your head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You drop the wine bottle and roughly wipe your eyes.

“I don’t even know why I’m fucking crying,” you say. “I only came tonight to break up with him anyway. And he treated me like shit. But…ugh, it’s stupid.”

“What?” Steve asks, voice gentle, as he runs a hand up and down your arm—a comforting touch.

You suck in a breath. If you were sober, you’d keep your mouth shut. But your alcohol-addled brain doesn’t give you the chance to stop yourself.

“It was nice to be wanted for once,” you mumble. “I’m just so tired of feeling this way. Feeling so goddamn lonely. So fucking unhappy.”

You’re glad that you can’t see Steve’s face, because if you could, there’s no way you’d have the confidence to keep going.

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” you continue. “I have you and our other friends. I have my parents. I have classmates I’m getting to know. I have a part-time job that pays well and I’m taking courses I’m interested in and I’m constantly surrounded by people and my life is good so I should be happy but I’m just not.”

Before Steve can respond, you start to ramble: “I’m unhappy, and I don’t know what to do or how to change it. I feel stuck. Stagnant. Like I’m in quicksand and I’ll keep getting pulled down until there’s nothing left.”

For a moment, Steve doesn’t respond. Insecurity chips away, making you worry that you overdid it. You clear your throat and start to backpedal:

“Sorry, ignore me, it’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” Steve says firmly. “I promise you, it’s not stupid. Honestly, I get it. Really, I do. My life is not what I wanted it to be and I constantly find myself wondering if it’s fate or if I did something stupid in a past life and now I’m being punished.”

You bite back a badly timed joke about his tenure as King Steve.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it,” Steve adds, “but this is just a small blip in your life. A small, insignificant blip. You feel stuck now, but you won’t be forever. You have such a bright, awesome future ahead. And you’ll find a guy who treats you wayyyy better than fucking Tyler.”

“Oh yeah?” you scoff. “Like who.”

“Doesn’t matter who.”

You look up at him, faces so close you can see every freckle and beauty mark on Steve’s cheeks. Steve has to remind himself to breathe when your nose almost touches his.

“Like you?” you whisper, the wine making you bold.

“Maybe,” he whispers back. His sincerity throws you off guard.

Your eyes pull to Steve’s lips. The urge to kiss him feels like a necessity, not just a desire.

You start to close the space between you two, but Steve pulls away. The one thought rattling in his mind is, Not now. Not like this.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” Steve says, helping you to your feet.

Embarrassment washes over you. Of course he doesn’t want you. You figured as much.

You’re unable to look any of Tyler’s friends in the eye as you clumsily exit the bustling party behind Steve.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 2nd, 1986

MY HOUSE OF STONE, YOUR IVY GROWS / AND NOW I’M COVERED IN YOU

You spend your Thursday hiding in your room, hungover and embarrassed about…well, pretty much everything. You can’t believe your drunk ass blubbered like a baby and almost kissed Steve. You have no idea if there’s a way to bounce back from that.

Steve calls your apartment a few times during the day, but you have your roommate lie and say you’re at your parent’s house.

Molly comes into your room around dinnertime and says, “You need to call Steve back. He won’t stop hogging the line. It’s getting desperate.”

You drag yourself out of bed and decide to do one better: to go see him.

When you enter the Family Video, he’s slouching behind the counter, watching St. Elmo’s Fire on the miniscule store TV. He doesn’t even look up from the movie and, in a bored monotone, says, “Hey, so we close in 15—”

“Don’t worry,” you say, “I’ll be quick.”

He straightens up and looks to you, instinctively running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N, hey!” he says. “Sorry, I thought you were a customer. I mean, you are a customer, but I thought you were a stranger—”

“No worries,” you say. You clear your throat. “I have something for you. Two somethings, actually.”

You reach into your bag and place two items on the counter: the Sixteen Candles tape you rented the other day and a square-shaped Tupperware container.

You remove the Tupperware lid and reveal a cookie cake with a message in blue icing: “I’m Sorry :( ”

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking down at the cake and then back at you.

“What are you apologizing for, exactly?” he asks, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“For last night,” you say. “I shouldn’t have gotten so wasted. And I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I’m really sorry, Steve.”

Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s features. He fidgets with the Sixteen Candles box.

“No, don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s fine, really.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t say anything else, and for a moment the only sound to be heard is the movie in the background.

“I can get out of your hair,” you say, “if you need to close up—”

“No!” Steve says, quicker and louder than he means to. “I mean, why don’t you stay? You made this cake, you should at least enjoy some of it. Right?”

That’s how the two of you end up sitting side-by-side on the rough carpet of the Family Video, backs leaning against the counter as you tear the cake apart with your hands.

Through the wide front windows of the store, you watch the sunset dip below the horizon, painting the bottom third of the sky purplish-pink. Higher up, the sky is a dark indigo. You imagine the view from outside almost looks like a Christmas card, the two of you housed in the cozy glow of the store, its exterior draped in half-melted snow.

Between bites of cake, you two chat about everything and nothing. It’s nice, it’s easy, it’s friendly. It’s familiar. But there’s a buzzing in your ear, a pounding in your heart, and you want nothing more than to grab Steve by the collar of his stupid polo and kiss him until you can’t breathe anymore—

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” you blurt out, before your mind takes you to someplace you shouldn't be.

“Shoot,” Steve says, turning to face you. You meet his eyes.

“Let’s say there’s a girl,” you say, “who likes a guy. And she’s liked him for a while.”

Steve drops the piece of cake he’s holding.

“And for a long time,” you continue, “she was too chicken to make a move, so she didn’t say anything, or do anything. But the feelings just kept growing and growing, and covering her completely, like ivy.”

Steve swallows hard. You can’t tell if the wild look in his eyes is because he’s horrified or because he feels the same. You pray it’s the latter and keep going.

“Instead of doing the smart thing and telling him how she feels,” you ramble, “she convinced herself he only saw her as a friend, so she did a really stupid thing and dated a really shitty guy, but that shitty guy’s gone, and she needs to finally tell the first guy she likes him but that’s really scary and—”

Steve’s kissing you. You're not sure exactly how it happened, not sure when he moved closer, but now he’s kissing you and it’s perfect.

He cups your face in his hands and kisses you like he’s fighting for his life. Like there’s a fire in his soul, blazing away, and you’re the only one who can tamp down the flames. Like he’s covered in ivy too, completely enamored with you.

You kiss him back, grabbing a fistful of his dorky green vest. You kiss him like nothing else matters.

“Wait,” Steve says, pulling away, cheeks flushed. “The guy in the story was me, right?”

You laugh, and Steve is convinced it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. He wants to record it on a cassette and put it in his Walkman so he can loop it all day long.

“Yes, Steve,” you say. “You’re the guy, and I’m the girl, and I’ve liked you since June.”

“I’ve got you beat,” Steve says, grinning. “I’ve liked you since Scoops employee orientation. But I thought there’s no way you’d want to be with me. I mean, you’re you.”

“Holy shit,” you say. You think of all the missed opportunities, the wasted time. “We’re idiots. The two of us? We’re actual idiots.”

You both laugh, and then Steve kisses you again. Outside the window, the sun sinks completely, leaving nothing but a crescent moon shining in the dark winter sky.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #god i hope this does well #please reblog if you like it :)#st fic: ivy

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jgmartin · 11 months

Text

THE DEAD WORLD

It happened late. I suppose these things always do. The end of the world isn’t exactly a rise and shine affair, you know?

It’s a big decision, nuclear war. You think you’re ready to drop the bombs, but then you figure it’s probably best to sleep on it. Then you wake up and think maybe, just maybe, we’ll first see how the day plays out. Maybe somebody convinces you not to press the button. Maybe the world gives you a reason it shouldn’t go up in smoke like the stock market, like the riots in the streets, like the futures of an entire generation.

Or maybe there are no reasons. Maybe starting fresh is all that’s left, and cleaning humanity off of this rock is the only truly moral choice left to make.

I don’t know.

All I know is it’s been a week since the blast. A week since I ran to the bunker, alone, forced to leave my family behind. If that sounds callous, then just know it wasn’t me who abandoned them. They abandoned me.

They were disbelievers. All of them.

They called me crazy for building the bunker. Called me insane for stockpiling canned rations ten feet under the dirt. I tried to explain to them that we were running out of time, that if they cared enough to open their eyes, there were signs that the end was coming. But to them, that was just noise. More chatter from a lunatic.

They stuck their noses up at me all the way to the end. When the air-raid sirens sounded, my wife grabbed my son and daughter and screamed at me to leave the house. To never come back.

So I did.

I left them there. There simply wasn’t any time to fight her for the kids, to fight the kids who were wholesale convinced I was a fraud. A liar. The bombs were coming and the bunker was a hundred feet away, buried beneath the forest behind our farm.

I didn’t have a choice, you understand? No choice but to run, so that’s just what I did. I ran and ran, with tears in my eyes for my family, and just as I closed the heavy steel door of the bunker I felt the low rumble of the first explosion. Then the next.

Like I said, it’s been a week. I figure the worst of the fallout has dissipated by now. It’ll be just the fires that are left, the fires that there’s nobody left to put out. Soon though, once the flames have exhausted their supply of wooden homes and fuel-laden vehicles, they’ll die too, and then the new world will emerge.

The Dead World.

The dark truth is that the nightmare of nuclear armageddon takes place in three stages. The first is what people often assume to be the worst. The bombs. The explosions. The mushroom clouds and the screaming and the running and the sirens. Truthfully though, that’s the easy part. At that stage you’re just afraid or dead. That’s all.

After that comes the flames and radiation. They do some damage, maybe more than the bombs when you consider the pain inflicted, but even they pale in comparison to the third stage. The Dead World.

In the Dead World, the strings that tie us together are burned away. There are no rules. There are no customs. There is no humanity. It’s chaos, unbridled and hopeless. Raiders roam smouldering city streets, pillaging and raping and torturing for scraps of food. People are rounded up like cattle, butchered and eaten.

That, I think, is the stage we’re beginning to enter. The stage of desperation. Even now, I hear a band of raiders above me. I’ve made certain my bunker is well-hidden, but it’s possible that the blasts have swept away the dirt camouflaging my hatch. It’s possible I could be found.

In moments like these, I’m almost glad my family perished in the blast. I shudder to think what the monsters above would do to them, to my wife and my daughter. Still, I’ve covered my bases. The raiders likely arrived to see if there were any animals left alive on the farm, or crops left to reap. They wouldn’t be here looking for underground bunkers.

BANG BANG BANG

The sound echoes around my bunker like a heart attack. I freeze. Through inches of steel I hear the muffled chorus of human’s shouting. Moving.

BANG BANG BANG

There’s more shouting. I slink to the wall of my bunker, pick up my rifle and load a round into the chamber. I’m panicking for no reason, I tell myself. I’m making much ado about nothing. Even with a band of raiders there’s simply no way they could break the reinforced steel hatch. Not with a pair of bolt cutters. Not even with a welding torch.

KERCHUNK

There’s the sound of something clanking on metal. Like a carabiner. A hook. Did they attach something to the handle? Above me an engine roars to life, something powerful. A truck, maybe. It screams as its wheels tear into the dirt and my pulse races. I grip my rifle, raising it toward the hatch. Toward the intruders.

The hatch shudders. It shudders like it’s going to bend, warp, but instead it snaps clean off. I’m blinded by the afternoon sun. I shield my eyes as best I can, but there’s no shielding my lungs from the fallout in the air. “I’m armed!” I scream, hacking a cough. “I’ll blow the heads off of any of you fucks that wants to try me!”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Mr. Falton,” a voice blares over a megaphone. “You’re under arrest. Come out with your hands up.”

“You think you’re going to fool me with that spew?” I snarl. I cock the rifle and let off a warning shot through the open hatch. Birds scatter from the trees above. “Come any closer and the next bullet’s going straight through your heads!”

Something drops from the hatch. It’s small, oval-shaped, and it bounces on the steel floor once, twice, before rolling to a stop. It’s a metal canister.

Smoke hisses out of it.

_____________________________________________________________________

I open my eyes and realize I’ve been abducted. Stolen away. The familiar steel walls of my bunker are gone, replaced with cream wallpaper and drab lighting. It’s an office building– or at least it was one before the world went tits up.

“Where am I?” I ask, groggily. My head is throbbing, vision still blurry from the gas.

“You’re at the precinct. I’m Detective Vaneer and I’ll be conducting your interview.”

“Interview?” The room around me is sparsely furnished. There’s nothing between me and the liar but a wooden table, a cup of coffee and some empty creamer. It’s a nice set, but it isn’t fooling me. “I don’t have anything more than what was in that bunker, you hear? So you can call your raiding party back and let me go.”

“Why did you do it?”

I don’t reply. He’s fishing for answers, fishing for details he can use to find my backup rations buried out back behind the barn. I won’t say a word, though. No matter how much I’m gaslit.

“What’s the matter?” the liar says, standing up and adjusting his tie. “Was a week not enough time to dream up an alibi?” It occurs to me that he’s gone through a lot of effort to put up this ruse. To pretend society isn’t a fractured, crumbling memory. He’s even dressed the part.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“The bombs,” he snaps. “You don’t know about the bombs?”

My mouth twitches. What the hell was his angle? To throw so many competing stories at me that I started questioning my own reality? “Of course I know about the bombs,” I spit. “I’ve known about the bombs for a long time, anybody could have seen this coming.”

His fist hits the table. There’s anger in his eyes, rage like I’ve never seen before. His facade is slipping. “How long?”

“Long enough to build a bunker and survive the blast.”

“And your family?”

My voice dies in my throat. “How…” I say, hoarsely. “What the hell gives you the right to talk about my family?”

“Where are they?”

He’s looking for a reaction. He’s trying his best to get me emotional, to get me to let down my guard long enough to spill my secrets and tell him about the cache behind the barn. “They’re dead,” I tell him. “They died in the blast.”

The liar masquerading as a detective leans over the prop table. He taps his finger on the surface. “What blast?” he says.

My jaw clenches. My hands ball into fists. I want to leap across the table and slug the motherfucker for invoking my loved ones, for cursing me with the pain of their memory. But then he wins. Then he knows he can get me talking with the proper stimulation. “I’m not talking,” I tell him.

“No,” he says. “What blast?”

“I don’t know!” I snap. “I wasn’t standing around to count how many bombs fell– to point out which one killed my family.”

“But you were standing around when we opened your bunker, weren’t you? You saw the trees. The birds. How many nukes hit your farm, do you think? Must be pretty sturdy bird nests.”

I open my mouth to speak, but the words aren’t there. The liar doesn’t seem to mind– in fact, it seems he realizes he’s found my weak point. He knows I’m breakable now. Fuck. He walks around the table, sizes me up, then stalks over to the blinds covering the windows. He gives them a tug.

More sunlight. It’s blinding, again. I hear the sound of a window sliding open, and suddenly my ears are assaulted with lies. A symphony of deception. Cars honking. People yelling in the street. Music. Then the world comes into focus, and I see just how deep this act goes. They’ve set up a projector on the wall. It’s a film reel from the old world, with its tall buildings, its people walking to and from work, and its cars spitting methane into the air.

“It took me a week to find your bunker,” the liar says, coming back around to his chair. He slips a laptop from a bag beneath the table. “I had to comb through your online activity. Match up receipts. Call the company that installed your tin can. It took some work, but we figured out where you were hiding eventually.”

I don’t speak. Their operation is more sophisticated than I expected, much more and I can't risk making a misstep.

“Let me tell you what happened, Mr. Falton. You fell down a rabbit hole, a deep one of online conspiracy. You convinced yourself the world was ending, that there were psychic vampires living among us, infecting our every level of society. You convinced yourself that the only way to stop them was to start from scratch, and that our world leaders knew this and planned a global nuclear strike for New Year's Day, 2022.”

My body is shaking. As much as I try to pretend his lies aren’t affecting me, they are. It’s poison to my ears. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? A psychic vampire. Bitter too, I bet since there won’t be enough food for you to sustain yourselves on– not now that humanity is halfway to extinction.”

The liar gives me a hard look, then opens his laptop. He clicks around some, types a bit on the keyboard, then turns the screen around to face me. It’s a picture of my house. It’s blown to pieces. There’s barely anything left but wooden splinters and smouldering ashes from the blast.

“See this?” He taps something in the bottom corner of the image. It’s a mess of colours. Of pixels. It’s red, pinkish and scattered in several pieces. “That’s your daughter,” he says.

My jaw drops. A sinking feeling grows in the pit of my stomach, unshakeable and awful. Still, I knew there would be horror in the aftermath of nuclear war. I knew. I also knew it would be a necessary price to pay.

He taps another section of the screen. The picture zooms in. “Over here, we think this might be a piece of your wife’s skull, though it could also be your son’s. Their corpses are in so many pieces it’s hard to say which hock of flesh belongs to who.”

“I don’t want to look at this. Put it away.”

“Wait,” he tells me. “You haven’t seen the best part.” More tapping. More zooming in. This time the pixels are dark. They’re something thirty feet away from the rubble of the house, something grey and familiar.

My stomach twists.

“What’s the matter? You set that speaker up, didn’t you? Put it right there in the yard?”

I don’t want to be here. This isn’t real. It’s a lie– all of this is a lie. A sophisticated psy op designed to trick me into emotional vulnerability, staged by psychic vampires to feed off of my pain. Yes, that much is clear to me now. This is too sophisticated for the average raider.

“Since reality seems to confuse you, Mr. Falton, let me tell you what happened.” The vampire leans back, a smug smirk on his weasel face. “You rigged your own house with enough explosives to sink a battleship. Bombs planted everywhere from the under the couch to inside the walls. You set it to blow the day the nukes were supposed to fly. Why? That’s simple. You didn’t want anybody finding any hints about where your bunker was– just in case the ICBMs missed your rural slice of buttfuck nowhere. You didn’t want your family above ground, freely able to give away your location to psychic vampires.”

This is textbook emotional manipulation, a specialty of his breed. I won’t let him have his way with me though. I won’t let him feed off of me.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out an old book. My journal. “Picked this up in your bunker, Falton.” He flips through the pages. “Reading through it, you’d almost think you gave a damn about your family. After all, the sirens were for them, weren’t they? You set them up to play hoping it’d convince them at long last that nuclear war was well-and-truly underway. You hoped it’d convince them to follow you into the bunker. To bury them underground so their thoughts were safe from attack from… uh, psychic vampires.”

“Yeah. Things like you,” I spit.

“You gave them one last test of faith. One last chance to follow you into your rabbit hole of madness, and they refused. For that, you killed them.”

“Fuck you,” I say, and my voice is quivering. “You’re nothing but a lying sack of psychic shit! You think I can’t feel you probing my thoughts? Gaslighting me?”

“I wish I was lying, Mr. Falton. I really do.” The vampire sighs, and rises from the table. “I feel bad for you, truthfully. Sooner or later you’re going to realize you were wrong. I don’t know if it’s going to happen when I leave this room, or when you get to prison, but it will happen and when it does, it’s going to break you.”

He heads for the door, grabs the handle and then stops. “For what it’s worth, I looked into those conspiracies of yours. Some were pretty convincing. They laid it out in easy to understand terms, made sensible links between the vampires, the pyramids and the moon landing.”

He chuckles to himself. “I guess the only problem I had was that at the end of the day, none of their shit stood up to reality. It only made sense in a vacuum. As soon as you looked outside the conspiracy community, as soon as you realized how many little lies you needed to be fed to make the big lies seem palatable, well, that’s when the whole facade broke for me.” He grips the door frame, shakes his head and laughs. “It’s more exciting than reality though, I’ll give you that.”

He exits the room, leaving me alone in his elaborate set. I take a moment to admire the detail in the projector screen, the crispness of the sound system and the smell of fresh coffee. It’s impressive. He went to great lengths to pull the wool over my eyes, but unfortunately for him I’m not a sheep.

My eyes find his laptop on the table and I pull it toward me, surprised to find that the internet is still functional. Good. I just need it to update my blog one last time-- to let the world know that no matter what insane story the vampire's weave, they never fooled me. Never fed on me.

I know the nukes fell. I know we beat back the psychic assholes and I know human civilization is in ashes. I also know it's for the best. My family, if they were still here, would be proud of me for doing what was right.

The only thing I can’t quite explain are the blinds. There’s something about the way they dance up and down in front of the projection of the open window, the way I can feel the coolness of a breeze that’s hard to explain. Part of me wants to get up and check, just to make sure they’re fake. But then I think about how pointless that’d be.

After all, I already know the truth.

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bunker-usa1 · 14 days

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Nuclear Bunker

Rest assured, underground bunkers are the safest option for protection against nuclear explosions and other disasters, providing unmatched security for you and your loved ones. Visit- www.bunkerusa.com https://www.4shared.com/s/fKN6wBBrNge

#custom underground bunkers #fallout shelters #luxury bunkers #survival bunker #underground home #nuclear bunker

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assortedfruitsnacks212 · 2 years

Text

Index - Billy Hargrove

Fic Series

Lost Boy (post-S3 AU, angst, horror, found family, eventual Billy x El) - in progress

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It's been over two months since the Battle of Starcourt. Billy Hargrove survived, but he's not sure he should have. Scarred in body and mind, he has no idea who he is anymore. He spends his days drinking and fighting until Neil, incensed by his son's behavior, throws him out of the house.

Hopper and El come to the rescue, taking Billy home to live with them. Their compassion is unnerving... and exactly what he needed. However, as he adjusts to his newfound "family," he realizes something isn't right. He still feels the Shadow's call, urging him to kill.

Little does he know the Shadow doesn't need him to obey. It has another piece on the board, waiting to strike.

Worship The Flame (post-S3 future AU, Billy x El angst, fluff, smut) - in progress

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It's May 1989. After three years in California, Billy returns to Hawkins for Max's high school graduation. He thinks he'll find everything—and everyone—as he left them. Turns out time has moved on in Hawkins, too, and a certain "little girl" isn't so little anymore. Now that he's back, she's desperate to prove it to him.

Too bad he swore he'll never fall for her. And if he does, there's no way her police chief father won't find out.

Oneshots

Enemy Of My Enemy (Eddie & Billy as awkward allies, pre-S3)

Billy Hargrove's been one of Eddie's best customers all year. Today though, when he shows up to the clearing with a black eye and stitches, Eddie knows this drug deal's gonna be different.

Fuck ‘Em (Eddie & Billy friendship, short S4 fix-it)

In the aftermath of the battle against Vecna, Eddie has an awkward heart to heart with Billy Hargrove.

She Knows (Billy & El one-sided friendship, short post-S3 AU)

Eleven tries to talk to Billy after the events of S3. It doesn't go well. Alternatively: Billy is scared to death of a teenage girl.

Have Mercy (Billy in Russia AU)

He’s been in Kamchatka for weeks now. The Russians, it seems, find him endlessly fascinating. They’ve dragged him to that small underground arena so many times he’s lost count, setting forth challenge after challenge. Bend this. Break that. It’s getting repetitive and, honestly, pretty boring.

All of that changes when they issue a new challenge—one that tests his humanity instead of his strength.

Amerikanyetz (Hopper finds Billy in Russia AU)

In a secret bunker in Kamchatka, Hopper finds another American prisoner. Someone who shouldn't be alive.

To My Younger Self (Billy & Hopper friendship, post-S3 AU, short letter fic)

From an AU where Billy survives Starcourt with major PTSD.

After an especially difficult week, Billy finds something on the dash of his car: a plain envelope with the words "To Billy, from Hopper" scrawled on the outside.

My AO3

My Art On Etsy

strangerthings4theories (Billy-centric theory blog)

Bileven Meta

Why I ship Billy x El

Billy and El are mirror images of each other

The phone booth: El hears Billy’s call for help

El is coded autistic

I’m not a perv for shipping Bileven. You’re just an asshole

The way this fandom dehumanizes El really gets to me sometimes

"What does your 'strawberry ice cream' tag mean?"

Bileven Extras

This gifset from The Boys perfectly captures the Bileven dynamic

“El would love Billy like a sister!”—I'm about to start making fun of y'all 🙄 (thread fic)

A years-long fight (thread fic)

Top ten Bileven songs

Bileven playlists

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #bileven #billy x el #billy x eleven #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #jim hopper #el hopper

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brick-a-doodle-do · 1 year

Note

Have the workers gotten stuck in places before? Maybe for angst it was a customer/ the boss that got them stuck?

-Small brain anon

vore implication/mention in first paragraph !!

oh yes fs they have! there are a few occasions i can come up with off the top of my head, most of them being punishment noms between boss & the workers, mainly tommy & george. the sole reason was because their "bad reviews" are SKYROCKETING,, and george loves slacking off (especially after he met dream and got himself a phone), and tommy is just plain rude to people, so it just is a terrible mix and gets them stuck in a stomach for a while, which brings up my old hc of the "forbidden" thingy that lets tinies surpass the recommended time that they be in a stomach before it becomes painful and/or lethal.

and there was a time where they got locked in the bunker. but like also they didn't, it's a funny story. i made a hc back that there's a type of like catnip-esque leaf that only borrower's know the effects of, which led to the scenario of all of them gathering into the bunker to essentially get high together! LMAO so basically the door was a little jammed but that wasn't even the problem, they were pulling instead of pushing, but they were too out of it to even realize. long story short they gotta call a human to rescue them via the phone they keep down there DSJFS

also i've talked a lot about the bunker but haven't really given the visuals for it! i'm not sure of the interior yet, but i had the idea to have the entrance to it be a little door in the leg of a bench! it opens and you go underground a bit, and there's where my imagination stops. maybe there's a little homemade elevator or a pogtopia-esque thing with just really long, ominous staircases that'll eventually leads to the bunker. probably the elevator tho cause i've already used pogtopia for swapped inspo,,, ANYWAY there's that. tiny lil fairy door!

and tinies have also gotten stuck on dashboards of cars cause while exploring the car (seeing as they've never been in a car freely; the drive from where they were previously as a borrower to the park was completely covered and barely registered) they somehow manage to get up there...but can't get down. maybe human can't get them cause they're driving or maybe they just play into it DGJFDSJ

speaking of cars i remember making canon that ranboo got trapped under a seat in the backseat and wil was on the highway so he was NOT able to get to ranboo at all, so tommy and tubbo made it their mission to get him out. long story short tommy gets trapped as well and it takes tubbo the rest of the car ride to try and get them out. spoiler alert, it doesn't work. so wil's gotta come to the rescue </3

OH yeah tommy got stuck in wilbur's pocket one time when he brought schlatt to the park and they got tipsy then wandered around! tommy was not happy about it bc wilbur was touchy-feely and would NOT let him out lmao

there've been a lot of occasions where the workers will be trapped into lego creations. it was both nerve-wracking and irritating the first time it happened, and by the third or fourth time they were just used to it. and they learned to bring something to do if they ever go to attend to children. also the same thing will happen in other play areas for kids that're tiny-friendly. sometimes they'll be taken and held/closely watched for hours

HHHH i want more angsty occasions but i can't think of any atm :(

but thank you for the question!! i got to remember some stuff i totally forgot about esjdfs

#brickquiries #small brain brickling #sb my beloved :]#tiny workers au #cw vore implication/mention

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forcesmajor · 9 months

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Kit Knox

Biographical Data Form

Name: Kit Knox

Age: 47

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: January 1st 1976

Place of Birth: London, UK

Nationality: English

Physical Appearance: Kit has a distinctive appearance with tousled hair and a contemplative expression. His blue eyes hold a mixture of brilliance and turbulence, reflecting the complexity of his thoughts.

Background and History

Before we burn

The Knox family gained renown owning numerous mental health facilities across America, beginning in 1985 with the establishment of New York’s Succlife Sanatorium. This spearheaded further East Coast expansions in 1990—including Lunnox, Youthful and Lazure Sanatoriums. Jerome Knox’s vision and pioneering treatment approaches attracted wealthy investors, fueling rapid construction.

Jerome demonstrated relentless drive building a prestigious chain of lavish establishments over decades. Though many bid to transform his sanatoriums into detainment facilities for criminals and extreme incurables, he firmly refused. His focus stayed on serving non-criminal patients and preserving harmony across all Knox properties.

By 1998, aging founder Jerome Knox risked losing control to outside interests aiming to rewrite his family’s legacy. Thus his only child Kit Knox assumed leadership, protecting his father’s principles from corruption. He would oversee continuity of quality care along with modernization while avoiding predatory ventures.

Under Kit’s guardianship, the Knox brand continues standing for dignity and compassion tailored to the mental health spectrum. His stewardship defends both patient autonomy and his family’s defining ideals across ever-more profitable sanatoriums. Investors may clamor but the virtue Jerome built into the brick and mortar remains steadfast.

Today the Knox Sanatorium Group boasts cutting-edge facilities paired with wholesome community enrichment. And Kit ensures every decision honors both his father’s humanism and his duty to guide a new era for the properties Jerome made timeless.

After we burn

Kit Knox's era

In his first year leading, Kit Knox faced shareholders doubtful of his readiness. Many questioned whether the 22-year old college senior grasped necessary nuance. But inheriting his father’s relentless drive and intellect, Kit slowly overcame doubts through tenacity, scientific acumen, and public communications savvy.

Kit pioneered innovations like evidence-based therapies, medications, and holistic wellness supports. But his true vision involved advancing experimental methods below Succlife’s bunker walls - including radical brain surgeries for patients not stabilized through conventional means.

Though psychosurgery remained deeply controversial and risky, Kit relentlessly pursued its development, sinking massive funding into related research despite lacking willing participants. Some viewed his methods overzealous, unable to distinguish between ethical and unethical “cures.”

Desperate to prevent investment flight, Kit increasingly took liberties - not just custom tailoring pharmaceutical mixes but concocting extreme chemical solutions he daringly tested on vulnerable subjects. Then a Malaysian doctor named Dr. A██ arrived, introducing underground compounds and Eastern healing wisdom that renewed Kit’s inspiration.

Beyond promising new remedies, Dr. A██ offered connections to his original teachers—shadowy Middle Eastern Therapeutae elders whose resources could fuel Kit’s unconventional programs. Lured by the prospect, Kit met with the secretive cabal, hoping this “Elderly” order might help him manifest explosive innovations in healing the mind. But in allying with such occult forces, was he preparing to cross the final line between visionary and madman?

Madness era

Kit Knox’s once-wholesome facilities quietly morphed into bunkers where The Elderly cabal now ruled half-owners. Dozens of militants from the Middle East and Southeast Asia secretly traveled through seeking experimental neural procedures and stimulant cocktails banned on American soil. But shrewd Knox leveraged powerful allies to evade government detection, his charity campaigns concealing the man’s true ambition.

To surrounding communities, Knox adopted the persona of a generous philanthropist frequently sponsoring fundraising galas in major cities. Yet behind this illusion of selfless benevolence drove a relentless scientist dangerously unchecked by ethical constraints. Only his inner circle witnessed the intravenous alchemy and psychosurgery trials that granted militarized subjects amplified pain tolerance or subdued empathy at the expense of their psyche’s stability.

Knox ensured no average citizen detected his well-masked dual life. If his medical innovations meant ravaging minds, if the Elderly’s geopolitical agenda meant sheltering wanted extremists, the profits justified the means. His New York glitterati supporters had no complaints, dazzled by his generous donations and family’s sterling reputation. But intelligence agencies eyeing Knox’s empire sensed darker truths lurking below all that unblemished white marble.

Post Dr A██

Tensions erupted when Knox uncovered The Elderly’s true jihadist agenda for Dr. A██ and other extremist assets like Imam Ocean, Khamrozi, and Lai Amiron. Though obsessed with unlocking the brain’s mysteries without ethical constraints, Knox recoiled at directly enabling religious terrorism overseas no matter the profits. His hospitals would empower fanatics no more, regardless of shared sympathies against certain Southeast Asian regimes.

When Dr. A██ returned from a clandestine Middle East training camp clearly further radicalized for impending strikes on civilian targets, Knox revoked his access credentials citing security risks. Then Imam Ocean and his two henchmen arrived unannounced to forcibly retrieve sensitive operational documents only for Knox’s private military contractors to forcibly deport them.

These assertive actions constituted an unmistakable purge dissociating Knox from the Elders’ planned attacks. He would stretch medical ethics but not outright enable extremist mayhem through his facilities. Severing those treasonous ties also served self-interest, as discovery of such collusion would thoroughly undermine his public repute as philanthropist should scandals erupt on foreign shores. Knox’s ambitions pushed boundaries but even he recoiled at the greatest moral crossing lines. For the Elders, his defiance jeopardized major operations. And the shadowy coalition was not one to tolerate disloyalty from once-useful assets.

Personality:

Even in his early 20s with limited experience, Kit exuded relentless confidence and ambition to expand his family’s mental health facilities despite initial pushback. Where others saw merely his youth, Kit saw dramatic developments propelled by his extraordinary abilities. He held little regard for naysayers, consumed by his grand scientific visions and generational duty to advance his father’s life work through boundary-pushing innovation. Though morally flexible when needed to protect his autonomy, Kit’s primary motivations were furthering knowledge and cementing his legacy. This drive suggests strong achievement orientation tendencies. While outwardly seeking financing to sponsor research with clear goals, Kit privately had an obsessive interest in dubious approaches such as surgical neuroprogramming. To deflect suspicion, he presented an image of altruistic altruism through campaigns, galas, and public appearances, utilizing his enormous interpersonal attractiveness. This deliberate veneer allowed him to shield the most unconventional and ethically questionable studies from external scrutiny. But internally, Kit remains convinced that his creative genius and intimate understanding of the brain justify moving beyond constraints. He believes that no one else lacks the intelligence and vision required to implement his discoveries, which have the potential to change mental healthcare. His ego appears to inspire ideological fervor. Kit fulfills the paradigm of a visionary scientist in many ways: he is extremely clever, insatiably curious, and committed to pushing the boundaries of knowledge forward. Kit is aims, along with his unwavering belief in his own power to transform fields and a flexible morality that emphasizes patient well-being over findings, raise serious issues. For, in his desire to uncover the secrets of the mind by whatever means necessary, Kit brings civilization closer to unsettling and deadly applications at the intersection of sickness cures and human breakdown engineering. His unregulated experiments thus threaten to destabilize the same institutions that his family labored to establish. Kit's grounded humanism serves as a balanced counterbalance, but it is constantly jeopardized by surrounding extreme sympathizers who want to use his abilities for harmful ideological objectives.

It's just something I threw on for the essential of Josiah and I's connection.

Everything will be refurbished when necessary throughout the existence of our connection.

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mrssimply · 1 year

Note

I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to give you a prompt!

Because I miss them:

UWMA JxKerxV spending their Christmas Eve together

(NSFW is fine obviously)

Dear friend, I'm so happy to be able to offer a vision of their lives one year after the end of the adventure. It was an adventure for them, but it was also one for us, and I'm really overjoyed about celebrating it so close to Christmas!

Writing this felt like meeting an old friend, and I'm very thankful you made this happen cause I wouldn't have otherwise! Si thank you so much, for your prompt, and for everything else!

I have to say the mood stayed cute and tender this time for them. I let them have their intimacy off screen ;)

23th: Home

V steps out of the elevator, followed by Rogue and her guest of honor, Michiko Arasaka. He resolutely faced the door as they made their way down, because looking at them exchanging heated glaces makes him very uncomfortable. V can’t even complain: Rogue withstood a lot of elevator rides with him, Johnny and Kerry, and the young King of the Afterlife knows they're actually worse. Michiko, at least, has poise, whereas Johnny and Kerry have none.

He’s still relieved when the doors open and he can walk to the other end of the corridor. The panels blocking the entrance slowly slide open, and as they do, heavy chrome rock fills the air. Glancing back with a grin, V catches Michiko Arasaka’s amused expression. Rogue gestures at her to follow V, and he leads the way into the bunker.

Designed to withstand a nuclear attack and house most of the Afterlife’s affiliated members for months, the round theater-like room has been temporarily repurposed into a gigantic underground club. Tonight they celebrate one year of freedom, of Night City not only being separate from the NUSA, but being free of Arasaka and the rest of the corps. Well, it’s not really true: they still have to work with the corps, but now it’s mostly on their terms. On V’s terms.

The fact it coincides with Christmas is certainly symbolic, Misty said it was a sign their work was blessed and V took it to heart. He’s living proof there are things beyond the rational, beyond what the eye can see, and those things are stronger than anything.

Their entrance is unnoticed, as everyone is focused on their drinks, their dance partners, and most of all, on the stage in the middle of the pit. On each level of the coliseum, people are dancing, laughing, sometimes just chatting by shouting loudly over the deafening music. Bars have been installed on the top floor, where V and his two friends — if he can call Michiko that already — have arrived.

They take to the right, to the nearest drink station, and V finds Claire, looking disheveled but happy.

“Hey boss,” she greets him, ignoring other customers to prepare his drink. Her call out makes a few of the gathered patrons look toward the young man, seizing him up and down with surprise. V winks at them, something of a tender smile on his lips. He knows they always expect someone at least fifty years older, someone like Rogue. He doesn’t mind, his soul is that old anyway.

The small crowd falls silent as Claire finishes preparing his drink, a Goro Takemura, and hands it to him. The moment he grabs the drink seems to be some sort of signal, life resumes and a few mercs come his way to greet him. V makes small talk with them, tries not to squirm at the obvious admiration, and accepts the praises and thank yous with as much dignity as he can. He doesn’t really like this part of his position, he would prefer not to be treated as a messiah. For the last year he’s come to understand that’s how he appears to many eyes: the guy who defeated Arasaka, who made the corp heel to his will, who brokered a deal with the rogue AIs from beyond the Black Wall. The one who defeated death itself.

Continue Reading on A03

Sorry for this, but I'm traveling so i only have access to the app and it doesn't let me add the "continue reading" option and since the prompt is quite long i didn't want to make you scroll too long so I'm redirecting you to AO3.

#kerry x v #cyberpunk 2077 #silverdyne #kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #kerry x male v #kerry x johnny #Johnny x V #johnny x male V #silverVdyne #kerry x johnny x V #cp2077 #my writing #fic advent calendar

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pwurrz · 10 months

Text

uh. to put the games in chronological order it would be

fnaf 4: we play as the crying child as he lay in the hospital after the bite of 83. the minigames show the days leading up to the day he died, his birthday. the animatronics we see as the nightmares the crying child is having before he passes away at the end of the game.

fnaf 5: michael is told by his father to investigate an underground bunker connected to their house. there he finds a massive facility that houses the funtime animatronics, animatronics that never made it into the public eye because of an incident that occured opening day. this incident was of course elizabeth afton's death at the hands of circus baby. william had already killed children at this point because the reason he made the funtime animatronics was to lure and kill children in order to study remnant, a substance that allowed children murdered by animatronics or near them to have their souls bonded to the very endoskeletons of the animatronics. anyways this is when circus baby and the rest of the funtimes meld together to form an animatronic named ennard and use michael's hallowed out body as a way to escape.

fnaf 2: takes place in 1987, one of the rare occasions we get an actual year the events occured. besides fnaf 4 which ofc takes place in 1983. william has been shut out from any freddy's locations at this point. probably bc of all this missing and dead children he leaves behind everywhere he goes. this is their third? location. so the first missing kids incident takes place and when the bite of 87 takes place. after all that went down obviously they had to close and re-opened using remodeled versions of the old animatronics from the previous restaurant (the second one in the chain of many, many locations).

fnaf 1: takes place after the bite of 87 and is a direct sequel to the second game. we've known this since the second game came out. probably michael afton takes up the job of nightguard to do investigations into his father's crimes and is eventually fired for tampering with the animatronics. since it's the first game in the series we don't actually learn a lot at this point except for a) the bite of 87 happened and b) some kids went missing

fnaf 3: takes place in 2023. some dickwads open up a horror attraction to capitalize on the kind of urban legend that the freddy's restaurants had turned into. michael starts working here as a nightguard because of course he does and is rewarded in the form of his father's corpse, now melded to the spring bonnie animatronic (it's a long story). yay! a family reunion! too bad every family member michael meets is trying to kill him. turns out the people running this horror attraction managed to find a real aimatronic that had been left over from the fnaf 1 location and that was, of course, william. long story short michael tries to burn down the attraction and kill his child murdering father but is unsuccessful.

then finally fnaf 6: don't know how far into the future this is but it's after ennard has been forcibly removed by michael's body (you know. bc he was dying. and what's a dead body to a bunch of robots trying to blend in?) and was forced to live in the sewers and after the fnaf 3 attraction was burned down. henry emily, father of charlie and previous business partner of william is actually responsible for building a new freddy's location with the sole purpose of luring all the animatronics into one place so he can finally kill them all. michael once again takes this job because of course he does (shouldn't he be dead? don't worry about it). so boom it works and all the animatronics with souls attached to them including the original five murdered kids, elizabeth, william and charlie are lured to the location and burned, finally setting them free. henry and michael choose to stay behind and burn as well.

fnaf custom night: william's eternal purgatory/hell, basically. idek if it's canon to the timeline but if it is this is where it fits in.

idc about security breach or help wanted as they relate to the lore. i'm just gonna say the story wrapped up in 6 because that's the best possible timeline that makes the most sense!

also this isn't like. a description of the lore it's just a timeline for me to decide where to start when talking about the lore. also if i got anything wrong let me know (anything canon that is, most of the stuff we have is just heavily implied or speculation anyways lmao)

#long post #fnaf

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zmediaoutlet · 1 year

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I posted 4,203 times in 2022

That's 812 more posts than 2021!

178 posts created (4%)

4,025 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@samshinechester

@zmediaoutlet

@mannequin3thereckoning

@silver9mm

@stanfordsweater

I tagged 4,198 of my posts in 2022

#spn - 1,940 posts

#art - 689 posts

#dean winchester - 294 posts

#sam winchester - 237 posts

#jensen ackles - 125 posts

#:) - 119 posts

#the boys - 119 posts

#wincest - 116 posts

#lol - 114 posts

#thanks canon - 99 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#hunter corp john got dean a custom-built vermeil cock cage for dean's 21st birthday and it's dean's favorite present he's ever received

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

fic: the constant vow (chapter one)

You ever have that fic idea that you think, mm, that'd be fun to write, and you keep kind of prodding at it and tweaking it and reworking, and then it turns out it's like 9 years later and you finally sit down to write it and it turns out to be long and complicated and, oh damn, quite the endeavor indeed? Yeah.

I'm going to post the six chapters of this over the next six Fridays (barring getting hit by a truck or something) and, I'll be honest, I really hope people give it a shot in sequence even though it's technically a wip. Hopefully each chapter will be satisfying, even if you have to wait for the conclusion.

title: the constant vow pairing: Sam/Dean (brief Dean/others) rating: E length: 12348 (chapter one) warning: dub-con tags: Season/Series 06, First Time, Case Fic, Genderswap, Fuck Or Die

summary: With Crowley apparently dead and Sam's soul back in place, even though Eve is a worry and Castiel's fighting a heavenly war, Sam and Dean at last have some space to get back to what passes (for them) as a normal life. They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

(AO3)

82 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

can I ask what the appeal of wincest is to you? do you have a manifesto somewhere?

I do not have a manifesto. Do people write manifestos?? The only manifesto I can imagine being required is from people whose literal not-ironic favorite movie is Sharknado. And even then, the answer should be: "lol, why not?"

I can't decide if this is a bad faith ask or not but let's assume it's not, for fun and profit: the first level of the answer is lol, why not.

The second and largest part of the answer is: by watching the show as it's presented to me, without trying hard at all, I see a deep and tangible connection between the two main characters which is so intense that it actually would be less weird if they were fucking. The fact that they aren't, according to canon, actually makes Sam and Dean Winchester very fucking strange indeed. No one is that world-leveling over a sibling. It's insane behavior. They're bringing each other back from the dead and ruining each other's romantic relationships and accusing each other of cheating (thanks Sam) and condemning all of humanity to a world that still has demons in order to keep living in the same underground bunker together. Holy shitballs.

In some ways, wincest-where-the-relationship-is-physicalized is kinda cheap and redundant. Their actual-canon gencest relationship is so intense and over-the-top and strange that physicalized wincest almost becomes the only way we can talk about it, because we can't really conceive of relationships outside of romantic ones that are that powerful and all-consuming for characters.

So given all that, why not have them express their apocalyptic, world-ending (and world-saving!) love for each other via penis jousting. Like, might as well.

136 notes - Posted August 3, 2022

if you could completely excise an element from your fandom -- like disappear it forever, there would never be another post about it and indeed the thoughts that caused them would never even appear in another fan’s head so as not to potentially foul the air with their presence -- what would it be

150 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Sam’s fiftieth birthday isn’t much of an event. They don’t do much for their birthdays, never have, and even milestones have gotten lost in the general maelstrom that their lives became. When he was eighteen he ran away from home and felt so gut-shot horrible about it that he puked five times on the Greyhound taking him to what he’d thought was a new clean future. On his thirtieth he was in a coma in a hospital, getting nonconsensually filled with an angel. The years in between, May 2nd was a nonevent, other than a bloody reminder of bad times that weren’t far enough in the past.

In 2033, it’s different. Still reminders but they do feel distant. Some glass partition that’s slid down, between the bad old days and the current ones. They’re good, Sam guesses, but more than anything they’re---neutral. They’re exactly the days that he makes out of them, every morning. Lot of lives he could have had that would be worse than this one, and he knows that better than any other human in the universe, bar one.

It’s a Tuesday. A cool morning, for May. Sam goes for a run, like always. He comes back to the coffee not started, like always, so he starts it, and then goes and takes a shower. His knee hurts but not any more than his knee usually hurts, these days. Jeans, a sweater. The bunker seems colder than it used to, but then he’s a little skinnier than he used to be. A sweatshirt helps.

In the kitchen he pours two cups, and walks them careful back down through the halls to room fourteen. The door’s still just cracked and it’s dark inside, and he’s quiet as he sets the one mug on the bedside table but there’s a rustle, anyway. “Oh,” Dean says, and coughs phlegmy, and Sam wrinkles his nose but murmurs, “Sorry.” A waved hand, pale peeking out of the blankets, and then it gropes for the coffee. Sam shakes his head, goes to leave---thinking of the book he’s got split on the arm of his favorite chair in the library---but his knee’s hooked before the first coffee slurp is even over, and he waits.

“Ugh,” Dean says, like always---Sam rolls his eyes, like always---but then there’s a little tug at Sam’s jeans and he sits, obediently, and waits for Dean to gulp down half the mug, and even in the half-light from the hall he can see the grimace. Dean sighs, putting the mug back on the table. “One day you’re going to learn the right amount of grounds to put in, dude.”

“One day you’re going to get up early enough to make your own, dude,” Sam says, and Dean blows a half-hearted raspberry. Even with the queen mattress they moved in here years ago, there’s not much room; Sam props himself up with one hand on the other side of Dean’s hip. Sips his coffee, looks at Dean waking up. Even with a drool smear he’s clumsily wiping off his jaw it’s a nice sight.

Dean curls an arm under his head, stretching his legs out lazily. “Fifty years of being my little brother, you oughta have realistic expectations,” Dean says, airy, but there’s a little smile curled in through his beard, and Sam pauses with his cup lifted halfway to his mouth. Surprised, sort of, and then not surprised. He finishes the sip and then sets his mug next to Dean’s, and when he leans down Dean’s already tilting his chin up for a kiss. Coffee and morning breath, and the soft scratch of beard. If he had any tension in him anywhere it’s gone, just from the taste of him, in the warmth of their bed in the morning. Dean’s fingers slip through his hair where it’s still wet at the back, slide down to hook into the v of his sweater. Sam pulls away from his mouth, kisses his cheek instead, and Dean huffs and pushes him back, just fingertip pressure but Sam sways easy with it, propped over Dean, thinking---nothing. Nothing at all.

“Want to go over to Marlow’s and get burgers for lunch?” Dean says, after a little while of looking all over Sam’s face. Sam wonders what he sees. He’s content to wonder. “And I got a good lead on a bottle of scotch that might just be hidden somewhere in the library.”

“Oh, a mystery,” Sam says, dry, and Dean smiles at him outright, easy, no smirking or holding back, and god, he’s just. He’s so. Sam smiles back, helpless to do otherwise. “Yeah,” he says, and then has to clear his throat of thickness. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool,” Dean says, casual, like he didn’t just catch Sam in the middle of loving him.

Just another day in the life, together. Every morning that’s true---Sam wouldn’t be caught dead calling it a gift, certainly anywhere that Dean could hear it, but. It’s something, all right.

“Maybe after some scotch you’ll let me do that thing you’re embarrassed you like,” Dean says, and Sam refocuses to find Dean looking a little less sweet than previously, and---goddamn him, it’s not fair that after fifty years he can still make Sam---

“Dude, cut it out,” Sam says, and Dean grins filthy and says, “Come on, remember? That time in Germantown where I got your leg bent back to your shoulder and---”

“I hate you,” Sam says, getting up, and Dean crows back, “Oh, I know how you do,” and just for that Sam takes both coffee mugs with him, and what’s so supremely irritating about Dean is that Sam’s flushed (not blushing, thanks) and annoyed and is now thinking about how his knee isn’t so bad today that they won’t be able to do---that---which he’s not embarrassed by, he just doesn’t like how he gets so out of his mind when Dean---when they---

Dean’s cackling back in the nest of blankets. Sam heads determinedly out of range and thinks about pouring the rest of the coffee down the sink, just for retribution, but it’d be a waste of good coffee.

That night, in bed, after lunch and a movie and scotch and then other things and then clean-up, because even if Dean doesn’t mind it Sam’s never going to like sleeping like that---Dean curls up to his back, kisses behind his ear. “Happy day, man,” he says. “Many more.”

“Minimalist,” Sam says, and Dean snorts. Sam covers Dean’s hand, where it’s settled naturally over his breastbone, and thinks of all the days to come.

(on AO3)

156 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hello, hello -- happy w.w. to all who celebrate -- and as part of that delightful day, I wanted to get a sense of interest in a similar project that might have a slightly wider scope. You'll see the details in the linked google form.

Fandom's not *dead*, it's just... tired. And busy. And overstimulated-while-simultaneously-not-taking-anything-in. And sometimes people feel like they can't send a message or leave a comment or whatever because a) they just didn't have time when they saw it, or b) because they thought the post was too 'old' and it might feel weird, or c) who knows! Tons of reasons. But, in general, it's the interaction and communication that makes fandom feel alive, so -- we want to encourage that! Wouldn't that be fun? A little 'hey, I see you!' across the various dashboards.

It'd be super helpful if you'd take the little survey. (It's seriously little: two questions plus an optional short answer.) Share it widely! Tell your friends! Tell your enemies! And then, at some point, a later project (with an actual title) may come your way.

180 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #i'm glad all my top posts are text based ig #and i stand by that longest tag #gpoy

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