#sufjan steves

[franziskas-record-store]

Hello, I’m Franziska, and I’m a big music nerd! Consider liking or rebloging this post if you enjoy any of the following artists (or just music in general) and I’ll probably follow you back!

Talking Heads/David Byrne

Vic Chesnutt

Bob Dylan

Philip Glass

Steve Reich

Sufjan Stevens

Cardiacs

Brian Eno

Frank Zappa

Pharoah Sanders

Christopher Tin

XTC

Gustav Mahler

Björk

Leonard Cohen

Laurie Anderson

Very many more…

I will mostly post daily album recommendations, but I will talk about music from time to time.

#music #album of the day #music blog #music recommendation #talking heads #intro post #david byrne #vic chesnutt #philip glass #steve reich #sufjan stevens #cardiacs #brian eno #frank zappa #pharoah sanders #christopher tin #xtc band #gustav mahler #leonard cohen #laurie anderson #bob dylan #björk

[panopticum]

2: Who got you into the band you adore now?

6: Favourite Album?

8: Songs that you could listen to forever and never get tired of?

13: Favourite lyric?

27: What song/album do you listen to when you need a pick-me-up?

40: When did music become an important factor in your life?

46: It’s 3 in the morning and you wanna DANCE. What song do you blast to the heavens?

48: All time favourite photo of the band you currently adore?

I know you probably have fun answers :3

finally getting around to this and I’m sure I will think of other answers right after posting - so it goes!

2. fave band - the Peter Gabriel thing was a total divine accident. I was out dancing at an 80s-90s music video mashup night and Sledgehammer came on. I remember hearing the opening flute riff and seeing some guy near me contort his body in sudden recognition. the first beat hit and I can only imagine this is what people feel after doing their first hit of some deadly euphoric drug. the rest is history; I felt something in my brain go *clunk* and it was game over.

6. ahhh so many over the years but right now it’s Us by Peter Gabriel. I’m a total basic bitch for a good melody and that album is full of them, not to mention extremely relatable themes around longing, connection, “am I the problem,” and more. honorable mentions go to Age of Adz and Carrie and Lowell by Sufjan Stevens, Not Even Happiness by Julie Byrne, the original Hadestown album pre-Broadway, and O True Believers by James Blackshaw.

8. soooo many PG songs. but also: O.N.E. by Yeasayer, Music for 18 Musicians by Steve Reich, Fake Empire by the National, and many more.

13. “we took the town to town last night/we kissed like we invented it”

(not sure if this counts but the “shh…listen” at the very end of Secret World, too)

27. I tend to listen to sad music when I’m sad lol. but: the Graceland album by Paul Simon is a good one. also the song Number One Fan by MUNA.

40. mmmm to keep it brief: I’ve always been a deep feeler and music felt like the one thing that could mirror that. I grew up listening to a lot of hyper-melodic music like Yanni and inventing dances to go with it. I was in band and choir all throughout high school and college and kept singing in different groups after college. now I get such a charge out of dance, karaoke, live shows, and jamming on my uke. music has also helped me remember moments in my life, i.e. the first time I heard a Julien Baker song while driving through southern Colorado in a rainstorm. like life snapshots.

46. to pick only one: Let’s Go Crazy by Prince (a previous artist hyperfixation lol)

48. this was VERY DIFFICULT ahaha but:

I just adore this photo. it captures so much I love about this goofy man. I really relate to his perfectionism and tendency to get sucked into details. I love that he’s not a do-it-in-one-take guy like Prince. he’s obsessive and kind of lost in his world. but still tries to look up and out at the rest of the world around him. plus I love that Parachute label he wore so much of in the 80s (like this jacket here). p.s. I of course wanted to post some egregious 90s photo of him but there were too many to choose from.

thanks for the asks; this was fun <3

#peter gabriel #sufjan stevens #the national #julie byrne #yanni #yeasayer #steve reich #paul simon #muna #prince #anais mitchell #hadestown #james blackshaw

[postmodern-blues]

I’m just saying when are we going to get Steve Martin on a Sufjan Stevens track. When are we going to hear the haunting sound of their two banjos melding together. Who do I call to make this happen?

#steve martin #sufjan stevens #banjo #music #pls pls pls

[soulquest7]

Official Christmastide ecstasy photo...

"I see the stars coming down there/ Coming down there to the yard I see the stars coming down there/ Coming down there to my heart"

(Star of Wonder, Sufjan Stevens)

#sufjan stevens #jon anderson #steve howe #talesfromtopographicoceans #yoga #jon davison #mysticism #progressive rock #yes #youtube

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Violin Sect

Photo credit: Steve Jinks

Formed in 1980 and disbanded in 1981, the obscure Welsh post-punk band Violin Sect left behind just one seven-inch, “Highdays and Holidays/Rivals,” documenting their brief existence. In fact, they’ve flown so low on the radar since then that they were even overlooked for the Messthetics compilations, the CD series that brought the sounds of the many forgotten and amusingly-named UK DIY bands of their time and ilk to a (relatively) wider audience. This started to change in 2019, however, when Sect bassist Steve Walker posted a couple of previously unreleased songs that he’d dug up to Soundcloud, where Minimum Stacks label head Joe Piccirillo heard them as his label was just getting off the ground. Fast forward to 2023 and we have the Vile Insect 12-inch, featuring all four songs from the band’s short life transferred from the original ¼" tapes. The result, to Andrew Forrell of Dusted’s ears, is a mix of “dubby rhythms, scratchy post-punk guitar, whimsy and skepticism,” able to stand with Scritti Politti’s “Skank Bloc Bologna” and Swell Maps “Read About Seymour.” And thanks to this release, it’s finally in a position to reach the audience it deserves.

Although Walker’s bandmates — Steve Jinks (guitar), Phil Rimmell (drums) and Hywel Pontin (percussion and backing vocals) — were unavailable to take part, Walker has assembled a list of some of his favorite music, art and literature from his 67 years on earth for Dusted. “A snapshot within a snapshot,” if you will.

The Raincoats

I was lucky enough to catch a London gig by the Raincoats in 1979 around the time they released their first single. This year Gina Birch (bass/vocals), also 67, has released her first solo album, I Play My Bass Loud, and it’s been worth the wait. Here’s an early one from the first Raincoats LP, though.

Mica Levi — “Lips”

I got the same sort of excitement when I first heard Mica Levi, together with their bandmates in Micachu and the Shapes. Their work has continued to grow and encompasses other genres such as film soundtracks (e.g., Jackie).

Sufjan Stevens — “Video Game”

I first became aware of Sufjan Stevens with the release of Illinois and caught him at the end of his UK tour promoting it at King’s College London with a pared-down (although still with those wondrous wings) extra gig. In later years he was in Bristol on the Carrie & Lowell tour. Sublime. Here’s a later track with fabulous dancing.

Saul Leiter — In No Great Hurry: 13 Lessons in Life

I’ve spent a lifetime as a specialist nurse supporting individuals with intellectual disabilities to maintain and develop their independence together with practicing as a part time psychotherapist for the general public, within the UK’s National Health Service. During this time, I’ve drawn, painted, made music but mainly taken photos (since I was a kid with a darkroom). Maybe there’ll be an exhibition of my own one day but, like Saul Leiter, I’m used to “postponing things and seeing no reason to be in a rush.” For me, his exhibitions and photobooks have a magical quality that validate and inspire all at the same time.

Ivor Cutler

Ivor Cutler always had my heart but here’s an epic that didn’t feature on his own albums.

Angeline Morrison — The Sorrow Songs: Folk Songs of Black British Experience

In 2022 Angeline Morrison released an astonishing album… I’m afraid that I can’t stop myself recommending it to people! If you get a chance…

Paul Wright — Arcadia

Arcadia is a short film that explores Britain’s relationship with the earth, its secret pasts, hidden histories and collective amnesia using old film and TV footage in an exhilarating fashion.

Wet Leg — “Chaise Longue,” live at the BRIT Awards, 2023

A performance from the here and now, incorporating the past with the present in a truly WTF moment at the Brits!

Gretchen Gerzina — Black England

Books… so many books! So, here’s what I’m currently reading.

Anthony Gormley — Another Place

Finally… if ever in Liverpool, visit Crosby Beach and experience Antony Gormley’s sculpture. It consists of 100 cast iron figures facing towards the sea, (gradually becoming encrusted with barnacles, etc.) all modeled on Gormley’s own naked body.

#dusted magazine #listed #violin sect #steve walker #the raincoats #mica levi #Sufjan Stevens #saul leiter #ivor cutler #angeline morrison #paul wright #wet leg #gretchen gerzina #anthony gormley

[corpseoftomorrow]

I’m so sorry for this.  I had this idea. I’ve always had crushes, Steve probably is no different. The worst are the ones you don’t realize until it’s too late to do anything about them. That you’re just stuck, imagining what could have been. Empty because you can’t stop thinking about this imaginary scenario where you’re in love and you can’t stop replaying the last time you talked.  I think that Steve would be like that with Eddie. In the heat of everything he had no time to think about his feelings. About how maybe his heart fluttered when Eddie leaned too close. How he liked Eddie’s rings enough to wind up staring at them the whole time the guy talked. How me maybe thought the way the man could get so loud and always had these random bursts of weird action just to make people laugh was just so heart warmingly sweet. How Eddie smiled at him and it made his chest tight.  The way Eddie was so vibrant and full of things Steve didn’t understand. He was bouncing and bubbling over with anxious energy but he had the composure to reassure Dustin when he needed it most. How he had the compassion to make a shield instead of a sword, to wrap a flashlight to help Steve in the lake, the courage to jump into action. Cleverness to hotwire a van and calm to get the kids to listen.  How he had to carry Dustin away from Eddie’s cold body kicking and screaming. How those dark eyes were so void of life. How Eddie’s skin had looked soaked in blood and in his numb haze he couldn’t help but think that Eddie might be pissed his tattoos were ruined.  How hard it was to get blood off your hands. How even when Dustin was sobbing and begging to at least bring him back. Bring him home. That nobody could carry him.  Steve sits in his room now, looking at the wall and somewhere beyond it is a world he got to know those hands. Somewhere that he got to understand why he felt so warm and why after Eddie smile his gut fluttered and his chest got so tight he felt like he was dying.  There’s something so lonely about never getting to know.  How cruel it is to miss what you’ll never know.  He’ll never stop thinking about those eyes. Sometimes when he’s alone all he can see is them, flickering between vibrant hot coal, lovely and alive... And that stone cold obsidian of sightless death.  Steve will never forget how it felt to have Eddie’s blood on his hands and he’ll always regret not asking what Eddie was really going to say to him at the end.   How was he supposed to know it was the end?  He wasn’t but it still hurt.  It was enough to drive anyone mad. 

#longing #lonely #steve #this is tragic im sorry #grief #loss #steve harrington #eddie munson #season four #spoilers #steddie #there isnt a happy ending im just sad #sobbing #i needed to get this out of my system #steve needs a hug #to the tune of fourth of july #by sufjan stevens #stranger things #steve x eddie #im so sorry #my writing

[eufoniaradio]

S24.E49: bo2023: the pop edge

Segundo de tres programas con lo mejor que escuchamos en el 2023... hoy con "pop" (es un decir)

Al tener menos tiempo, hacemos el experimento de que el resto de géneros de los mejores álbumes que escuchamos en 2023 estén cerca del progresivo… una muestra con lo que consideramos más pop que progresivo… Había que hacer algún tipo de clasificación. Esto es lo que resultó. De nuevo sin un orden específico: sólo para disfrutar. Buen año para la música diferente, independiente y hasta…

View On WordPress

#bruce soord #explosions in the sky #hark! en co #mice on stilts #peter gabriel #steve mason #steven wilson #sufjan stevens #this is the kit #tim arnold

[daevstroders]

having my own place is not enough i need to be 10 mins away from my best friends house so i can sleep on her couch when things get tough

#futile devices sufjan steves voice #the sanctity of a best friends couch #the beauty of sharing coffee in the morning and rushing around because youve fucked yourself over for work the next day #missing the bestfriend hours

[nonesuchrecords]

Composer/pianist Timo Andres is on The Next Track podcast to talk about a number of contemporary classical pieces, including those on his own Nonesuch albums Home Stretch and Shy and Mighty, Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians, Morton Feldman’s Piano and String Quartet, Philip Glass’s Einstein on the Beach, Terry Riley’s In C, and works by Cage, Messiaen, Pärt, Rzewski, Takemitsu, and Sufjan Stevens. You can hear it here.

#timo andres #contemporary classical music #piano #home stretch #shy and mighty #steve reich #music for 18 musicians #morton feldman #philip glass #einstein on the beach #terry riley #john cage #olivier messiaen #arvo pärt #frederic rzewski #toru takemitsu #sufjan stevens #nonesuch #nonesuch records #podcast

[thesmellofburningfirewood]

Oh God Where Are You Now? (In Jamaa Township? Crystal Sands? Mt. Shiver?)

#this is a rough draft of this post #its kind of like a combination between sufjan steve s and a i #and animal jam

[likehephaestionwhodied]

“How Soon is Now” is just so fucking good 

I am the son/ and the heir/ of a shyness that is criminal vulgar 

I am human and I need to be loved/ just like everybody else does

#I am -as my professor said- a soft boi #it's the sufjan steves the harry styles and the smiths #just a very queer soft sad boi

[rosewaterandivy]

petrichor

a continuation of sugar & mint

summary: a summer friday feat. long lie-ins, a doting husband, and something unexpected

pairing: dad!steve x mom!reader

W.C.: 2390 K

warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking, cursing, pregnancy mention, my usual brand of filth (unprotected p-i-v, oral - m & f receiving, come eating)

a/n: disclaimer, i'm not a mom (unless you count my two pets)!! i am but a simple god mom to some feral babies, whom i adore. if pregnancy or mom!reader is not your vibe, i completely get it - i just couldn't get the thought of these two out of my head 🥹

🎵🎵 Oh, woe-oh-woah is me, the first time that you touched me 🎵🎵

pet·ri·chor /ˈpetrīˌkôr/ (noun)

definition: a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

Waking to the sound of rain falling steadily on the roof, you blearily pry an eye open to check the time. The sheets beside you on the bed are cool, Steve having made good on his promise to let you sleep in. The clock informs you of the late hour, 1 PM, as your stomach begs for sustenance.

Scrubbing a hand across your face, you roll over and rummage around for a shirt to cover throw on before trotting downstairs. Bub is off with her aunts for one final summer weekend, and there’s a slight chill in the air. Enough to warrant slipping on your husband’s discarded gray sweatshirt.

Aside from the rain against the eaves and windows, the house is silent. Grabbing your favorite mug from the cabinet, you busy yourself making a cup of coffee before you see the post-it stuck to the fridge.

Hope you got to sleep in, your majesty. Grabbing groceries in town, see you soon. xxx - Steve

Grabbing a cinnamon bagel and your coffee you settle in the window seat of the breakfast nook to watch the rain, free of distractions and responsibilities. It’s rare that you get a moment like this, no pressing deadlines, drop-off or pick-up lanes, hosting dinners for friends, or attending a birthday party.

Eyes following the drag of raindrops on the windowpane, your hand falls to the nearly imperceptible swell of your stomach. Early days yet, but you knew the signs: nausea, exhaustion, all the usual suspects. Finishing your coffee, you trekked upstairs in search of a rogue pregnancy test— would it have expired by now?

After checking the date and deeming it worthy, you took the test and checked the time. Deciding it best to go back downstairs to ease your anxiety, you settled back in the window seat with a second cup of coffee.

_

“Couldn’t find a shirt?”

He laughs, shaking off the water droplets like a dog in the foyer. “It wasn’t raining when I left,” Steve says, as if that’s explanation enough. Not that you’re necessarily complaining, his hair and skin damp, tank top doing fuck all being as soaked as it is. “And I couldn’t find my—”

Catching sight of his sweatshirt grazing the tops of your thighs he smiles. “Nevermind, looks better on you anyway.” He kicks the door closed, shoes squelching against the floor as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“Baaaabe,” you whine, catching a whiff of tobacco on him, “Please tell me you didn’t smoke in my car.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, sunglasses resting against the visor of his ball cap as he sets the tote bags on the counter. “Trader Joe’s was insane,” he says setting the keys on the counter, “It was an emergency cigarette, I swear.”

A roll of your eyes as you begin to put away the groceries. “If you bothered to wake me, I could’ve told you Trader Joes on a Friday was a bad idea.”

Steve quirks a brow in interest, grabbing a few items to shove in the freezer.

“Flower delivery is Friday, brings all the Lululemon moms to the yard.”

“Huh,” he grunts, “Explains all the spandex and lycra then.” Damp fingers trail against your thigh before wrapping an arm around your hip to draw you close. “Besides,” he breathes against your neck, “If I remember correctly, you requested to be left to sleep in.”

Failing to stifle a yawn, you eek out, “Because I’m fuckin’ exhausted, Harrington.” Setting your mug in the sink, you turn in his grasp and drape an arm across his shoulders. “Raising your daughter and dealing with your sorry ass.”

“Oh,” he pulls you closer, hips flush against one another, “So she’s my daughter now?”

“When she’s having sleep regression, yes.”

“Poor thing.”

“Yes,” you huff, “Me, I’m the poor thing because she insisted on crawling into our bed and kept kicking me in the ribs all night.”

“Hmm,” he hums, resting his chin against your head, “Explains the post-it stuck to my face this morning. ‘Help me Steve Harrington, you’re my only hope! Can you get Bub off to Aunt Nancy & Robin’s and please (for the love of god) let me sleep in? xxx —the love of your life & bearer of your child.”

“Hey,” you grouse into his chest, “I am clever and cute and you love me.”

Steve pulls back to get a better look at you— sleep mused, hair askew, barely dressed in a sweatshirt that had seen better days, and bare feet. He reaches down to link his fingers through yours. It feels so good, and warm, and you sigh almost contentedly.

“Course I do.” He takes a breath, “How could I not?”

“Steve Harrington,” you whisper against his lips, “You sweet talkin’ me?”

And with that, you crash your lips over his, sliding your tongue—sweet and heavy with promise into the space of his mouth.

He tastes like a stolen cigarette and coffee, cinnamon dancing on his tongue from the Big Red he’d swiped from the car. Kisses you slow and deep, easing you back against the counter. Chest pressed flush to yours, you let out an involuntary hiss.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

A shake of your head as your pepper his cheeks with kisses, bristles of five o’clock shadow catching against your lips.

“My tits just really hurt.”

“Huh,” he tuts, leaning back to look you over. “That’s uh… new.”

Quirking your brow, you level him with a look. “And how would you know?”

Steve’s lips curl in a slow smile, “I notice things.”

Glancing to the green numbers illuminated on the microwave, you grab his hand and make for the staircase. “Sure you do, big guy,” you toss over your shoulder playfully.

Settling him on the bed, you trot back into the en suite and return with the white plastic test in your hand. Handing it to him without fanfare, you watch as his face turns from one of mild curiosity to that of astonishment. Shock.

There was a cautious longing in your eyes and your face was measured. The air was weighted in silence, desire crystallizing as he leaned towards you, a pull he allowed himself to fall toward, closing the space between, choosing not to think, blocking out any hesitation and he was kissing you.

You were trying not to rush this, trying to savor this, slowly, carefully, tormented with the scent of his skin, all warm and washed linen, comfort laced in a simmering heat that he kept tempered somewhere deep within his soul.

Your face was cradled in his hands, pulling you closer, skin hot against palms, lips hotter still against his own when he realised the rain had stopped.

You crawl into his lap, straddle his waist, and his breath is punched out of his lungs in awe of your beauty. You undress him with deft fingers, yanking his clothes, hissing when he pulls away to peel the shirt off— as if not touching him pains you. The sweatshirt comes off— thrown carelessly landing somewhere on the floor— Steve revels in the exposure your chest—soft, heaving with love and agony.

Steve. Stevie. I love you. I love you. I love you so much.

Desperate, again.

You tug his hair, grip his chest and back, kiss him until his head spins. The bed creaks softly, as if it doesn’t want to interrupt the sounds that your bodies create together.

His kisses were deliberate towards one destination as his hands moved toward another, caressing you soft on the skin of your hips, slowly, sweetly up your sides and arching your back where you perched, a way to kiss you harder, reach you further to rediscover all his favorite parts of you.

The moan started low in your throat as he eased himself into you, sinking all the way to the hilt, delicious and easy, because he couldn’t wait and neither could you. You in all your love and splendor, always ready, always open for him, legs widening and gripping him as he began to move, slowly and agonizingly sweet.

Steve was trying to restrain himself, slow it down, revel in the feel of you, warm and wet and wonderful around him. He wanted to make it go slow, try not to lose himself through your soft sounds, the little breaths that told him the how, the when, the yes, please, right there, yes as you dissolved into moans that had him aching.

It was less deliberate now, more messy, a stuttered rhythm that had his legs feeling shaky, chasing his release, the push and pull of desire tightening, closer, hotter, tighter, and then an instant hardness that had him seeing stars, mouth tucked into the curve of your neck, your fingers threaded, gripping his locks, spilling feeling from his cock through your cunt.

He makes love to you, and even though he is bone tired from the hectic morning, he doesn’t feel it until you tremble in his arms and slump against his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat when he drew back to look at you, half-embarrassed, half a smile awash in his flushed face, hazel eyes full and wanting – utterly beautiful. Steve kissed your nose, your mouth, lingering sweetness on your lips, and you groaned as he picked you up, still buried inside you, his hands strong beneath your ass, fingers itching to trail the familiar paths of faded stretch marks. To praise the skin that grew to house you and your daughter, knew instinctively what to do, even if you were less than pleased with their sudden arrival.

Steve can’t help it - he loves your body for that, for keeping you and Bub safe. It’s something he won’t ever experience, but each time he happens to catch sight of you, pregnant or not, he can’t help but feel that he’s witnessing something sacred. Something holy.

The bed now, a comfort beneath your back, sheets scrambled beneath his palms as he balanced himself above you, then a stuttered breath as he slipped out, your muscles already missing the fullness of him. His pretty head moved lower now, your pretty hands still stroking through his pretty hair, sending pretty shivers through his spine.

The gasp was low in your throat when Steve pushed his fingers inside you, slow and agonizing, damp with you and him, all melded together and you almost winced when he dipped his mouth between your thighs, his tongue careful and deliberate, tasting you, tasting him, his mouth warm and licking you from core to clit.

This time, your legs were shaking, skin like fire and you were already too wound up, too high on just the feel on him, his hair brushing skin, beard soft on your thighs. Your fingers were fisted still through his hair, and god, he loved the way he knew how to drive you by the tension in your hands, the scrabbled grip through his locks as you got closer, more breathless, a groan and then an arch of toes before you were wrung out and writhing beneath him.

A clap of thunder sounded out as you collapsed, loose limbs and shivery skin as he came up to kiss you, shared joy and wonder, near awe that he could still bring you over the edge this way.

Steve's hair was something else now, wild and beautiful – definitely overdue for a trim and you were laughing now, face sparkling with glee.

“You look awful,” you told him, bringing your lips up to kiss him, all giggly with delight.

“Thank you,” he replied, nosing you close and drawing new breaths from your tongue as your hands drifted to the velvet skin beneath his thighs, working him slow and sweet.

“Oh, I will,” you answered, tempered smile in that face he adored so well, and shifted your body, drawing Steve onto his back as you dipped lower and he tried to hold the groan as you took him in your mouth.

He had to look away, some way to regather himself, the rushing blood through his skin, shooting straight to his cock, the warmth of your mouth on him, your tongue stroking him, the push and drag of your lips along that sensitive skin.

Steve focused on the feeling of you surrounding him, your warmth, your light, but even so, it was too much after a while and he had to change it, change the way you felt on him before he got too eager, too earnest. He lifted you, a giggle escaping your lips as you pulled off him with one last, deliberate drag of your mouth and this time, he couldn’t help the moan from his lips.

It was heaven, warm and sweet, when he pushed into you for the second time, your knees almost matched high at your chest, grazing your aching nipples as he found that special part of you that drew his most favorite sounds. You were keening, moving slowly together, trying not to lose control, trying to savor this for as long as you possibly could in this delicious bubble of time and space. _

Hours later and the pair of you had yet to leave the house. Rain pouring on and off throughout the afternoon and into the evening.

A tentative look at your belly, still smooth and firm. His hand finds the plane of it, fingers brushing the skin and over newly forming goosebumps. A surprising amount of excitement flutters in his own at the thought. It’d be good.

Steve insisted on throwing something together for dinner and made his way downstairs. He’s excited at the prospect of another baby, especially if they continued to take after you like Bub had. And she’d be adorable big sister, his heart swells at the thought.

He grabs the plates and heads back upstairs, the creak of the trick-step signalling his ascent. Nudging the door open with his hip, he pauses to take in the sight of you, and sets the plates on the nightstand.

Steve doesn’t know how someone can light up a room like you, just sitting there in his sweatshirt, doing nothing but smile. “Honey,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want to disturb the moment but can’t help himself. He just wants to see you looking at him.

“Yeah?” You turn your head ever so slightly, peek up under flared lashes— sleepy eyes struggling to stay awake— still sparkling. “What is it?”

“Honey, I love you.” Is all he can manage. Everything else seems to fade away.

And then you smile, a slow curling of your soft lips, cupid’s bow catching a moonbeam. You smile so sweetly his heart stops in his chest. The world comes rushing back with your tired sigh and your hand linking itself with his. One beat, two beats, steadily, heavily, his blood pulses again when you kiss his cheek and murmur,

“I love you, too.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #dad! steve harrington #Spotify

[hoe4flo]

Standing at Death's Doorstep

Yelena Belova x Reader

Trigger Warnings: main character death, R death, betrayal from Avenger, graphic violence involving guns and physical violence, graphic description of injuries, cursing. Additionally, R does have electricity manipulation and is an expert hacker.

Word Count: ?

Synopsis:

A heavily influenced fics by the songs Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens, You're Gonna Go Far by Noah Kahan, and when the party's over by Billie Eilish. Additionally, I listened to this playlist while writing: click link here. A fic in which a mission failure alters the lives of the Avengers as they lose one of their own unexpectedly.

A/N: I'm going back to my roots with this one. I love writing angst. I hope you enjoy gut-wrenching fics bc that is coming your way.

я тебя люблю - I love you.

Requests are open. | Consider following my main and other side accounts.

It all started as a reconnaissance mission until it turned into a death wish.

Steven, Natasha, Yelena, and (Y/n) stood on the other side of a building. Moments before they relocated, they had been ambushed outside a separate warehouse. Their informant led them there where they found evidence they were led astray, that they were at the wrong building. While they were able to pinpoint the right building, they were unfortunately caught in a small skirmish that ended in them barely escaping. It was beginning to be obvious that somewhere within the Avengers there had to be a spy, but they weren't able to focus on that right now. Right now, the only thing they could focus on was their next move. So, they looked to their leader for instructions.

"Here's what's going to happen," Steve instructed, looking around to make sure his group wasn't followed. Whatever action they performed next would be crucial to their newfound mission. "(Y/n), I'm sending you into the building with me. We will each be on two opposite sides so we have a greater chance of getting the information we need. Yelena, I need you to be ready with the helicopter for a quick exit. Finally, Natasha, I need you to be our lookout. If there is any sign of trouble, I can count on you to try to be our distraction. Backup has been called, but no one has gotten back to us yet."

There was an air of tension around them as Yelena wiped the blood off of (Y/n)'s lips. They were still trying to recuperate while Steve was giving orders. But that was life as an Avenger. There were rarely any breaks when it came to missions. (Y/n) glanced over to Yelena, but her hazel eyes were trained on anything but her. It was obvious that Yelena was worried but neither of them could admit that. They knew they needed to focus on the mission and do what they were asked. It was all for the greater good, right? Steve gave (Y/n) a moment, walking towards the building. This moment allowed (Y/n) to kiss Yelena,

"I'll see you at the helicopter," (Y/n) confirmed with her girlfriend, earning a stiff nod from Yelena, It was obvious that she didn't want to be stuck as the getaway driver. She hated leaving (Y/n) alone on missions that they were put on together. It was why they weren't typically put together. Everyone would remind Yelena that (Y/n) had powers and that she would be fine. However, she wasn't always so convinced. "It's going to be okay, Yelena. After our mission, we're going to go back home and take a long nap like we always do. I'll see you soon, baby. I love you."

This caused a small smile to fall onto her lips as she kissed (Y/n) again. "Okay, detka. я тебя люблю." (Y/n) took ahold of Yelena's hand, giving it a soft squeeze before walking away with Steve. There was a nervousness brewing in her stomach as Steve reminded everyone to turn on their communication devices.

(Y/n) entered first from her side of the building as Steve circled to make sure the building was clear before entering on the opposite side of the building. Where Yelena stood, she kept her observant eye on what was happening, despite Natasha's current and prime position at the building. She wished Steve had chosen her to enter that building with him because she knew that whatever was coming was going to be a death match.

(Y/n) crept into the building, hearing a crackle in her ear. "(Y/n)," Steve called through the earpiece, his voice a whisper. (Y/n) checked her surroundings as she listened for what Steve needed. She was a sitting duck, and she didn't even know it yet. "I found the room with the information, no one is here. Are you in a safe position to meet me where I am?" Steve inquired. (Y/n) held up her wrist, her watch exposing a holographic map with four dots. The blue one was Steve. She was surprised to see how close they were.

There was a nervous feeling that engulfed her body as she looked around, checking in two other rooms before swallowing thickly. Why was this building so empty? "Yes, I can," (Y/n) confirmed, unaware of what she was getting herself into. She did what Steve said, meeting him in a room with a cabinet that had a password lock. It looked electronic. Steve glanced at her, and it was obvious what she wanted him to do. "It's weird, right? This building is so empty, This just seems too easy after what happened at the warehouse." (Y/n) spoke, working to crack the code. It took only a minute before there was a click and the lock opened, exposing files.

There was one with her name on it, which was known. After all, she had been saved by Steve and Bucky from HYDRA a long time ago. However, when she saw the one that read 'Agent Steve Rogers,' her eyes widened and her mouth grew dry. "I don't think it's that strange," Steve said, taking the file from the cabinet, he made eye contact with her as he pulled out a lighter. Pieces began to click in place for (Y/n) as she watched him set the file on fire as he slowly walked toward her. "You can't tell me you're surprised. I think a part of you knew I was the spy since the very beginning." Steve spoke, two men walking into the room.

Both men had guns. They were big and burly, and (Y/n) grew terrified. She wasn't scared of them, per se. She was scared of Steve. (Y/n) swallowed thickly as she stared at him with a deadpanned look. He was right, after all. She did suspect it was him. Not wanting to upset anyone, he kept quiet, She should've spoken up, but she didn't. She flinched as Steve approached her, taking the earpiece from her ear and crushing it between his fingers.

"I think I understand now. This whole mission was always supposed to be deadly. You knew that you would be killing someone today. You knew it would be me. You brought me here to hack into the cabinet in an old office to erase your file. However, now that I know who you are, you're going to try to kill me." (Y/n) stated, causing Steve to smirk down at her. The usual kind smile and soft blue eyes were gone. She felt betrayed and hurt as she looked at the man whose eyes were now hard and deadly. "Why would you go through all that work of adopting me a few years ago if you were just going to kill me? Did you only see me as a pig for slaughter?"

Steve hummed, grabbing her face in his hand and squishing her cheeks. She gripped his arm at the sudden pain he was causing. "I thought I could turn you into me. You're too much like Bucky, though. As for the pig for slaughter… I'll always see you that, even when you're six feet un-" A scream of pain ripped through his chest as (Y/n) electrocuted him, burning off a layer of his blue-sleeved suit. As he let go, and (Y/n) went to electrocute the other two men, they opened fire.

A blazing pain ripped through her shoulder, and she assumed that was her only injury as adrenaline pumped through her body. She electrocuted the men, watching them fall to the ground before taking off. She had to run before Steve recovered. Unfortunately, that wasn't soon enough as she was thrown onto the wall. She couldn't allow herself to fall to him despite his hand on her throat. Remembering her training, she calmed her body as she kicked, her foot making contact with his stomach. She successfully knocked the wind out of him, causing him to let her go. (Y/n) fell but didn't allow any of the pain to stop her. She punched him in the face, using her electricity to make the pain double.

She looked back as she ran, watching him grip his face in pain. As she made it down the stairs, Natasha was waiting, her widow's bite drawn until she saw (Y/n). "Natasha, we have to go. We have to go right now. Steve's the spy." Natasha's face hardened as she took hold of (Y/n) trying to help her out. (Y/n)'s breathing grew labored as she grew nauseous. Her hand fell to her stomach, feeling warm liquid. "Natasha… I think- I think I'm bleeding." She knew she was shot in the shoulder but she didn't know they hit her in the stomach.

Natasha chose to keep quiet as she moved to contact Yelena, However, she watched as a helicopter landed in front of her, the door swinging open. There was a frantic look on Yelena's face as she helped Natasha get (Y/n) into the helicopter. "What happened?" She questioned as Natasha took control of the helicopter. "Where's Steve?" She added, him being an afterthought. He just wasn't as important to her as the well-being of her girlfriend.

"This whole… This whole mission was a fake out. Steve is an agent. He pulled his old files and burned them." (Y/n) sucked in a breath, tears falling down her face. Automatically, Yelena grabbed her hand, drawing up their location on her watch. With the speed they were going, it was going to be an hour that they didn't have. Immediately, she grabbed a tourniquet, trying to slow the bleeding on her shoulder before adding pressure to (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Yelena, I don't want to die. Please, please, I don't want to die…"

Yelena had to swallow a sob as Natasha tried her best to fly faster. "You're not going to die, Malishka. You just need to breathe, I'm right here with you, okay?" Yelena questioned, kissing her girlfriend's clammy forehead. She refused to acknowledge how scared she truly was. She didn't want to cause any more fear for (Y/n). "What movie should we watch tonight when we take our nap? I'm thinking of the Godfather." Yelena turned the subject into something they would do. She was hoping that this would provide some kind of comfort. Relief filled her when she heard a small laugh escape (Y/n) as her tired eyes met Yelena's hazel.

"Yel… Yelena, we can't keep watching the s- the same movie over and over again." There was a playfulness that glittered in her darkening eyes. Yelena let out a fake gasp, pretending to be offended, This earned a weak nudge from (Y/n) as she smiled slightly, her eyes fluttering close for a moment. "I want to take my nap now. Yelena, I'm so, so tired."

Twenty minutes. She just needed twenty minutes and they would be there and Dr. Helen Cho would meet them there and save her. She looked back at Natasha, who nodded as she called for the Avengers Tower to be ready. "We're almost there, Malishka. Stay awake for me. Let's talk about our future. I picked out a few new baby names that I need you to hear and approve of. I was thinking of Anastasia or Natalia. What do you think?" She questioned in a fervent attempt to keep (Y/n) awake. It was becoming more important as they grew closer. They were too close for Yelena to lose her.

(Y/n) turned her head, her brows furrowing. She knew she had to stay awake. She needed Wanda to look in her mind and to confirm everything. Not everyone was going to believe her. (Y/n) was a realist, she knew she wasn't going to survive, but if she could just hang on a little longer, then she was going to try her best. She tried to keep her eyes open. She tried to focus on Yelena's beautiful eyes that were tainted with worry along her face. There was a bigger part of (Y/n) that didn't want to just hang on for Wanda to confirm what she went through. She wanted to hang on for the future that she promised to Yelena.

They were supposed to move out of the Avengers Tower, eventually. They were going to get married. Natasha was going to be Yelena's maid of honor and Kate was going to be (Y/n)'s. They chose Peter to be the ring bearer, for jokes, and Morgan was going to be the flower girl. They were going to have kids of their own. But now, visions of their future seemed to be fading away with every struggling breath that escaped (Y/n), no matter how hard she tried to hang on to life. She wasn't ready to die, she was terrified, even though she was trying to accept her fate. She wanted her future with Yelena more than anything, but she knew she was never going to have that. Her time clock was just ticking away, and she was growing more aware of how close to the end she was.

There was a thud, causing her to wince, sucking in a deep breath. "We're here," Natasha called out. Before they could escape the helicopter, they were met with a few of the Avengers doctors, including Helen Cho, and a stretcher. They tried their best to move (Y/n) without making anything worse, and (Y/n) clutched Yelena's hand. Admittedly, she was fearful as she tried to keep her eyes open. It was hard given how fast everything was going and the pain she was in. She felt borderline dizziness taking over her senses. Maybe that was just the loss of blood though. "You're going to be okay," Natasha said, catching up with the stretcher. (Y/n) wasn't completely sure if that message was for her or Yelena, though.

"I need you… I need you two to get Wanda." She spoke through gritted teeth, tears cascading down her dirty and bloody cheeks. The sisters glanced at each other, wondering why they needed Wanda. It was obvious to (Y/n) that they were hesitating. "Please. Not e- everyone is going to believe us. She… She could get into my mind and… and she could confirm everything. We need her."

Natasha nodded towards Yelena before parting ways as she went to find Wanda. "You can't go past this point, Belova. I need to help her. We'll give her clearance when Wanda gets here, but for now, I need to focus." Helen stated, causing Yelena to open her mouth in protest before she saw (Y/n) weakly shake her head. Yelena bit her trembling lip, terrified that this was the end.

"я тебя люблю, Solnishko." She whispered, causing (Y/n) to smile tiredly. "I love you too, little moon."

Yelena paced for a long time, feeling jealous when Wanda was able to enter the procedure room. Natasha eventually got Yelena to sit down, holding her sister as she cried. When the time came for Helen and Wanda to exit, both women looked grim. Helen looked stressed and exhausted. Wanda had tears brimming in her eyes as she stood there with a sorrowful look. Natasha and Yelena stood, ready to hear what they had to say. However, it was obvious by the looks on their faces that it wasn't good.

"(Y/n) hung on for just enough time for Wanda to find out exactly what happened. Once the information had been received, she flatlined. I tried to save her, but we couldn't get her back." Helen swallowed thickly, not being able to meet Yelena's eyes. She never thought she was going to have to say goodbye to any of the Avengers she had worked so diligently to keep healthy. "(Y/n) didn't make it. Steve Rogers was her killer."

There was a long pause, a ringing filling Yelena's ears as she let the information sink in. She had never expected to lose the love of her life, but here she stood, feeling hollow. She felt dizzy, stumbling back to sit down. Natasha quickly pulled Yelena into her arms and ripped through the air. Yelena hadn't felt like this since she was ripped away from her family all those years ago before the Red Room. She wanted someone to tell her it was all a lie, that (Y/n) was okay. But that moment never came to fruition.

Wanda placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, clearing her throat in order to clear the crying she was trying to hide. "Yelena, before we lost her, I was talking to her in her mind… She said that she loves you, and she wants you to know that you are the reason that she died happy. She knew you loved her and she said, if it was her time to go, that was all she needed to know. I can… I can show you later if you want or need." Wanda said, pursing her lips to stop herself from crying. A part of Wanda felt guilty for being the last one to communicate with (Y/n).

Yelena smiled a bit, still able to hear (Y/n) voice in her mind. Looking over to Wanda, she gave her a soft hug. Hidden deep inside Yelena, she felt angry that she even trusted Steve. She knew that there was something off about just him and (Y/n) going into the building, but she let them go. (Y/n) was the greatest thing that the Avengers lost, and it was all because of Steve Rogers. As she pulled away from Wanda, she journeyed to her room.

She refused to let (Y/n)'s memory die without killing the man who took her life. She knew that she was going to have to do this alone, but she felt revenge tingling at the tips of her fingers. She wasn't sure if (Y/n) would have wanted that, but she couldn't ask either. So, this wasn't going to be about just (Y/n) anymore. It was about taking down Steve Rogers and anyone that stood in her path. Natasha put a hand on Yelena's shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Don't think you're going without us." Behind her were Wanda and Kate, ready for anything that came their way.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu

[eufezco]

THE GRIEF OF LOSING EDDIE MUNSON

Steve Harrington x Byers!Fem!Reader, because I need to make everything about Steve sorry.

A/N: Listen to Glimpse of us by Joji, Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens and Die first by Nessa Barret for the full experience. Once again, english isn't my first language<3

Tw: self harm, panic attacks, not eating. I've seen a lot of people having such a strong reactions to Eddie's death and this is super angsty so be careful reading it please.

The door of your room was closed. It was closed most of the day, the only person who dared to open it was your mother to check up on you. Every now and then. She would leave it open, pretending to forget about closing it after going out of your room so she could have an eye on you. But that day you decided to keep it open yourself.

Someone knocked on the door of the house. Joyce being the one opening it to find Steve with a half-smile on his face. She hugged him before letting him inside.

—How is she doing? —The boy asked your mom, her replying with a grimace, pointing at your open door with her head. Steve blinked, nodding. That's good, he thought.

Steve went to the living room where El, Will and Jonathan were having breakfast, Hopper was sitting on the couch watching the TV. Steve said good morning to all of them and sat at the table with your siblings.

Joyce asked him if he had already had breakfast to which Steve answered by nodding his head and thanking her for worrying. Will showed him his new drawings and El talked about something he wished he could've paid attention to, but his fingers were tapping nervously on the table as his eyes escaped from El to the door of your room. He'd been doing it every day since everything ended. He'd usually wait for you there, sitting with your siblings, but today you were taking especially long.

—Should we go and see if she's okay?

Steve nodded and got up from the bed as soon as Will asked, the other three doing the same and following him. Jonathan, Will, El and Steve stood outside of your room, you not noticing them thanks to you wearing your headphones and being with your back turned to the door as you were busy drawing something.

Steve and Jonathan shared a glimpse.

—Is she okay? —El asked. You never used headphones, your music was always rumbling through the house.

—I think she's going through grief —. Steve stated.

El and Will were confused. —What's that? —El asked Steve.

—It's when- It's when you try to process the loss of someone.

The girl nodded, understanding what Steve was saying. Will had a worried expression on his face while Jonathan looked at you with sad eyes.

—And what do we need to do? How can we help her?

Steve kept looking at you while Will looked at him, El waiting for an answer. Both, Steve and Jonathan knew there wasn't much to do for you. —Just be there for her —. Jonathan answered her for Steve.

DENIAL

"Hi, y/n." The four of them decided that it would be better if only one of them went to talk to you. El and Will voted for that person to be Steve while Jonathan voted for Will and Steve voted for himself. Steve tapped softly on your shoulder, making you turn around, startled because you weren't expecting anyone to find out it was Steve who interrupted your thoughts. You said hi back to him as he threw a glimpse at what you were drawing. Steve talked to you, you only responding him with quiet hums.

"Are you ok-?" He finally asked.

"I'm fine." You replied to Steve and immediately after, you put your headphones back on. He stood there, behind you, for a couple of seconds deciding what he should do; you definitely weren't feeling like talking nor spending time with him or with anyone, but he didn't want to leave you. That day he did leave, but that didn't happen ever again.

You spent most of the day drawing, writing, or reading, your headphones never leaving your ears. Steve brought you some of his tapes and he bought new ones for you of artists he knew you liked. El would sneak into your room and just watch you as you painted and sometimes Will would too to draw with you. You couldn't feel anything, not sadness, not happiness, as if there was a hole in your chest that absorbed every emotion not giving your brain enough time to process them before they were gone. You were numb to everything around you; seeing Steve walk into your room made you feel nothing, you couldn't be proud as you used to be when Will showed you one of his new works, and neither you could feel the sadness after losing your best friend. You just were certain that something like that couldn't have happened to him. If Will survived one week alone in the Upside Down, Eddie could too.

"We need to go back." You went to the kitchen where Steve was helping Hopper to cook. There were only the three of you in the house, Joyce and Jonathan were at work but it wouldn't be long before they got home, and El and Will were hanging out with Mike. Steve cleaned his hands and turned around to listen to you, Hopper watching out the pasta for him. "We need to go back to the Upside Down." Steve's body tensed, Hopper stopped mixing the pasta with the tomato sauce. "I've been thinking and- Will was 12 when he spent a whole week alone in the Upside Down and survived, and those bats bit you too and you are alive. Eddie-" Steve shook his head softly, pressing his lips together. "Y/n." Steve cut you off in the softest way he could. Hopper looked at the boy who just finished sharing with him what Dustin told him about Eddie. "We can figure out how to open the gate again. I'm- I'm not asking any of you to go, I'll do it. I'll go and find him."

Steve licked his lips. "That's not possible, y/n."

"You don't understand, I have to find him." Your hands shook, Steve noticing and approaching you. Hopper turned around to see where the boy was going. "I have to save him, Steve." You started crying, your hands covering your face as you used Steve's chest to hide. "He's there alone and he has to be very scared." You sobbed, him wrapping his hands around your body, his chin resting on the top of your head. Hopper approached you both and laid one of his hands on your head. "He hates being alone. He has to be so scared, Steve, please, we need to find him." As he said, Steve knew that wasn't possible and he let you know in the less hurtful way, by not answering you. You begged Steve to help you go back to the Upside Down, his heart breaking into million pieces knowing he couldn't do anything for you and holding back his tears as he heard your desperate sobs trying to get Eddie back.

ANGER

Steve was holding you between his arms as you tried to escape his grip. You had already broken some of the polaroids you had with Eddie on the wall above your desk, the pieces lying on the floor as you tried to go and rip the ones that were still stuck to the wall. Your breathing was fast, your eyes with tears of rage and your body shook violently against Steve's arms. You finally gave up, if it hadn't been because Steve was holding onto you, you would've fallen defeated to the floor. Your head down as you sobbed, your whole body finally relaxing as Steve could loose his arms around you a little bit, still holding you so you won't fall. He gave you a minute as you tried to catch your breath and his eyes were locked on the ripped pictures, Steve let out a sigh because he knew you were definitely gonna regret this later.

"He was a fucking coward. He let himself die because of this stupid town as if he owned this place anything when everyone, literally everyone, thinks he is a murderer. You know what he was, huh? A fucking idiot and he died like one." Steve had to hear things like this every day, knowing you didn't mean it and that it was your trauma talking, not you. After realizing what you just say, you would start crying while mumbling 'I didn't mean it', Steve caressing your back and reassuring you that he knew you didn't.

Joyce had to pick up the pieces of your broken drawings, you destroyed every piece of art you created during your denial stage; ripping the papers and making holes in your canvases. Steve asked her if he could keep them and Joyce gave him each of the small pieces of paper that she collected. Steve repaired your photos with Eddie, using glue and tape to get the pieces together. He kept them in his room, waiting patiently to return them to you. He managed to perfectly repair four of them: you and Eddie posing for the camera with your Hellfire t-shirts, a big smile on your face as Eddie leaned his head on your shoulder. You didn't play D&D but Eddie insisted on you having your own Hellfire t-shirt. Two of them were pictures of Eddie, him lying in a flower field when you both went to that picnic last spring, his hair tangling with the flowers, and another one of him playing his guitar in one of his concerts. The fourth one was taken by Eddie's tattoo artist when he let you use the tattoo pen to color the bats’ tattoo on his arm. You were focused and worried at the same time that you were hurting him, but Eddie was admiring you as you worked on his new tattoo, the shine in his eyes visible in the picture being evidence of what kind of friendship you two had. For the rest of the photos, Steve did the best he could, but some of the pieces were too small to get them together or to even identify what they were.

The relationship between Jonathan and Steve got worse if possible. They only worked hand to hand when it was about you, the rest of the day they'd ignore each other for good. Jonathan hated to see Steve every day at home but he never said anything because he knew that he did not only help you but Joyce and his family too. Jonathan didn't like Steve, not only because he was his girlfriend's ex but now also because he was trying to get with his little sister. It was probably you transmitting your bad mood to them, which they never blamed you for, what caused them almost getting into a fight in the living room. Apparently, Steve heard Jonathan telling that long-haired friend of his how, not so deep down, Steve was still the same person he was three years ago. Steve wouldn't have cared about what Jonathan had to say about him, but you being depressed and your brother assuming that Steve was using you made him snap. Hopper had to step in the middle of the two boys, and Joyce had to call them both out.

Your jaw hurt, it was clenched most of the day and in the palm of your hands were bruises of half-moons because of your nails digging into your skin when you closed your fists. Steve took care of them, asking Joyce for bandages to cover that part of your hand so when you sunk your nails there, you wouldn't hurt yourself. Sometimes you would puke from all the anger you were keeping inside, Jonathan with a hand on your forehead and the other one holding your hair, and Steve waiting with water and a wet towel to clean your face. Then the embarrassment and the frustration would hit you at the same time, leaving you sitting down on the floor of the bathroom for hours, with your back against the door and your head on your knees as you hugged them to your chest. Steve and Jonathan were sitting there with you, looking at you and then looking at each other, their eyes finally locking on the floor as they listened to you cry.

BARGAINING

What if you've never met Eddie? What if you never introduced him and Dustin? What if you had gone with him to the Upside Down instead of going with Max and Lucas to the Creel House? You coudn't save Max and you couldn't save Eddie either. You were so ashamed of yourself, you felt like a failiure. You should've gone to California with your family, if you wouldn't have stayed in Hawkins, Eddie would be alive now. You would've probably distanced yourselves and now he would be living his life, playing D&D and giving concerts. The anger mixed with the sadness and you finally felt like talking with someone about Eddie.

"I should've gone to the Upside Down." You were sitting in your bed, your knees against your chest. Steve was sitting on the floor of your room, his back against the wall right in front of your bed and reading one of the books you recommended him a long time ago. His eyes laid on you when you spoke. You didn't tell him but Steve guessed that those thoughts were going through your head. "It should've been me who-" Steve cut you off. "No. Don't say that." Steve left the book on the floor and went to sit next to you, his gaze trying to find yours but your eyes were lost. "It should have been none of us." Steve tried to comfort you. He threw one of his hands over your shoulder, making you lay your head on his chest. You didn't complain, letting Steve's soft-touch snuggle you to his chest. There was a moment of silence before Steve spoke again. "Dustin asks all the time about you." You sat up, your eyes wide open. You've been so self-centered in your pain that you didn't even think about Dustin.

Steve drove you to the Hawkins High Gym where he knew you would find Dustin. During the drive, he told you that Dustin spent his days there since the supposed earthquake hit Hawkins, helping the people affected by it and giving them comfort. You knew the boy would be doing a good job. "If you want to leave at any moment, just let me know." You nodded, thinking twice about going into the gym. Steve waited with you there until you felt ready, his hands on his pockets as he already saw his friend through the windows, handing bottles of water and limping as he walked. Everything was a mess when you decided to go inside the gym. Even though some time has passed, people were still hurt, homeless and they'd probably lost everything. You saw Robin from the distance, she was talking with that girl she fancied and when she saw you too, she greeted you with a small smile, glad to see you again. Steve was by your side when Dustin noticed you had walked into the gym, him giving you the soft push you needed in the lower part of your back to approach the boy.

Dustin was limping, he later told you it was because of the fall when he went back to the Upside Down. You sat in an empty bed so you both could talk. Steve left you alone with Dustin, a young woman telling him he could help by folding clothes. The boy told you he had been helping there, what happened to his leg, and that Mr. Munson had been asking for you every day. You felt guilty, for not having talked to Dustin before and for not having, at least, called Eddie's uncle. Dustin's voice broke when he talked about Eddie, trying to comfort you somehow by telling you Eddie died like a hero. You also felt guilty for that. Dustin was there when Eddie died, he literally saw him dying in front of his eyes, yet there he was, consoling you. He stopped talking when he saw Mr. Munson entering the gym. You and Dustin got up, the old man quickly lying his eyes on you. He approached you, asked how had you been. You tried to not answer him by just using monosyllables but you felt like if you said anything else you'd start crying. When Mr. Munson was about to leave, he started digging in the pocket of his jacket.

Eddie's uncle handed you the guitar pick Dustin gave him.

"Mr. Munson, I can't. He was your nephew-"

"And you were his person. I'm sure Eddie would want you to have it." The necklace with his pick fell into the palm of your hand, feeling heavier than it should as your eyes filled with tears, but you did not get to cry in front of them. You apologize to Eddie's uncle for not being by Eddie's side when the earthquake happened, for not having made him see that this stupid town was not worth giving his life for. At least you now knew that he was not alone when he died which supposed a strong relief for your soul as you watched Dustin break down when he told you. But you didn't shed a tear, not in front of them. In the middle of this, some asshole from the basketball team you assumed, painted a pentagram and some horns and a tail on Eddie's poster. Mr. Munson was already taking out of his backpack another one to change the ruined poster. "May I?" You asked him. The man looking at you with sadness in his eyes as he nodded.

You knew the poster won't help. That as much as the cops looked for Eddie, they would never find him. But at least, with that poster there, they won't forget about him.

Dustin continued crying, the kid sobbing as you both looked at Eddie's photo on the poster. All you've ever dream about and planned with him was gone. You bit your lower lip when the first tears finally rolled down your cheek. You placed your hand on Dustin's head getting him closer to you as the boy wrapped his hands around you too.

It was the first time after Eddie's death that you were hugging someone and not being hugged.

DEPRESSION

Steve, Joyce, and Jonathan changed their whole work schedule after planning it thoroughly for you to not be alone at any time. You cried of sadness for the first time since Eddie died and you didn't stop for a pretty long time, your eyes getting a permanent shade of red. Your sobs could be heard throughout the house at night, Jim's light sleep making him walk to your room to find you curled up in your bed, almost choking on your tears and snots. "Come on, y/n." Hopper helped you to sit up on your bed, you being barely capable of keeping that posture for yourself. Jim took a tissue from your nightstand and blew your nose, and using his thumbs he wiped your tears. "We're gonna try to sleep, okay?" He sat on your bed with his back against the wall and hugged you against his chest, and using his hands, he caressed your hair and kept you close. "I miss him." You said between sobs. Hopper let out a sigh, hating to see you go through this while his big hand still working on your hair. "I know you do."

Steve always tried to have small gestures with you like buying you your favorite flowers and placing them in a vase next to your bed where you spent most of the day, renting movies for you in case you felt like watching one which never happened, cleaning your room. He just wanted to show you that life was still worthy of living. You hardly ate, not even your favorite dish whetted your appetite anymore, you would just sit at the table with your family, staring at the food on your plate. The feeling of emptiness never left, it was always there like some type of shadow that followed you everywhere. Sometimes that shadow was nice to you, letting you cry to sleep in between Steve's arms playing in your mind the happiest memories you had with Eddie, like watching him win his first D&D game, when he let you braid his hair, the joy on his face as he watched you try to play his guitar... But other times the shadow was mean, fastening your breath to the point you felt dizzy, drying your mouth and throat and making you feel helpless, like not even Joyce soothing words were useful anymore, not even Jonathan sneaking into your room and grabbing your hand as you cried your eyes out and not even Steve hugging you at night could replace the void that Eddie left in you.

Life was meaningless without him.

You were gonna graduate together. You were gonna walk that stage and snatch that diploma together. You were gonna live together, go to the beachside. He was gonna walk you down the aisle by the time you married and he was going to be the godfather of your children. He was going to be the cool uncle, the one that would buy them ice cream on the sly before having dinner, the one buying them their first guitar and teaching them how to play D&D. He was going to be the person you would entrust your children in case something happened to you and your husband. And now all of that was gone. You couldn't even think of a life without him. Like his uncle said, you were his person and Eddie was yours.

ACCEPTANCE

You had your first shower last night, you brushed your teeth, and had a proper dinner. Your mom kissing your forehead and Hopper lying his hand on your shoulder, both of them letting you know how proud they were of you. Now you were in front of your wardrobe, the bright colors of your spring clothes looking especially annoying to you.

You chose the long skirt he always laughed at. It was pink and he said you looked like a cupcake and that it hurt his eyes because it was 'awfully pink'. You also picked a white t-shirt, putting it on and inside of the skirt, you looked in the mirror. Your chest going up and down at a fast pace as you could see him lucidly behind you, teasing you by playing with your skirt. It was fun how when you wore that outfit, you looked like completly polar opposites.

"My baby. You are so pretty." Joyce fixed your hair and grabbed both of your cheeks to kiss your forehead, Hopper behind her showing you a big warm smile, agreeing with what Joyce was saying. Steve got up from the sofa the moment you went out of your room, his eyes never shone so brightly like they did when he looked at you. He had this expression of amazement on his face, you caught him looking at you from up to down, which was pretty intimidating you might say, to finally let out a 'woah' that made your cheeks and ears grow hot. Steve approached you, wrapping one of his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. "You look beautiful." You showed him a little smile. "You do to." You murmured and melting under his hand holding your waist. "Okay, lovebirds. If you need anything, call me. I want her back at 10 pm." Joyce nudged Hopper in his ribs, shaking her head at Steve. "Don't listen to him. Just take care of her, okay?" Steve nodded showing a comforting smile to your mom that made her know that you would be fine with him. You hugged Joyce and Jim one last time. "Shall we go?" You nodded. Steve took your hand as you walked out of your house to his car.

Steve drove out of Hawkins, to the next town where he knew there was a fair taking place and where he made a reservation in the fanciest restaurant he could afford. He took you on the most idyllic date ever as he promised when he confessed his feelings for you before going to fight Vecna. Every time that he made you laugh during dinner, that you showed him that timid smile of yours, that he saw you eating, something inside his chest tickled. After all you've been through together, he still got nervous when your fingers brushed as you walked, you finally making the move and grabbing his hand, your fingers intertwining as he caressed your hand with his thumb. The fair was the loudest place you've ever been in months, the music rumbled inside your chest. Steve got you a big pink cotton candy that you ate while you watched him trying to win a teddy bear for you. You giggled at his defeated face when he didn't get it, assuring him that he did great and awarding his efforts by giving him a piece of your cotton candy and a quick peck on his lips that made Steve almost fall to his knees.

"Wait, are you leaving?" You asked confused when Steve was about to turn around after walking you to the door of your house. "Mmm... yeah." Steve put his hands inside his jeans pockets. "I don't think I can sleep without you." You confessed hugging yourself.

"Well, you've got a big day coming tomorrow. We should not take the risk of you not sleeping." You giggled.

Your graduation day finally came. You woke up that day feeling empty again, angry because you thought that sensation was gone. You escaped to the bathroom to cry before Steve opened his eyes. This was supposed to be your day. Eddie's and yours. But now you had to do it for both of you. Not only getting that diploma but also learning how to live with the emptiness. You had a shower, the hot water burning your shoulders as you tried to stop crying, but the sound of the water hitting the bathtub made it so easy to hide your sobs. Your gown was too big and you didn't like the cap, as El said, it made you look like a gnome but Steve thought you looked cute. He drove you, El, and Will to the high school, it was almost offensive how they managed to plan a whole graduation after all of this. Your mom had tears in her eyes during the whole ceremony and so you did; Joyce was so proud of her little girl graduating and you were so sad about doing it alone. As the principal gave his speech, you noticed how many empty chairs were around you, one for each of the dead and disappeared students. One of those chairs was right next to you, your eyes staring at the empty seat for a couple of seconds. They ended up focusing on the director's words again to not think about who should be sitting there. "Look at you. That gown is so ridiculous." You could hear his laugh, you could also see him from the corner of your eyes sitting next to you. Your breathing quickened, he felt so real. "You're wearing my pick." Eddie pointed out. You did, the little dark piece hanging from your neck in contrast with the bright color of your gown. "I miss you." You murmured, your eyes getting glossy with tears. "I can't do this without you, Eddie." Your voice could not be heard not even by you, your lips were moving without emitting any sound. "Of course you can. You'll learn how to." Tears started rolling down your cheeks, you thanked you were wearing no makeup. "I miss you too." Eddie confessed when he didn't receive an answer. "We didn't get to say our goodbyes."

"You weren't supposed to leave me." You mumbled between sobs. You caught the attention of the girl that was sitting behind you, she asked you if you were okay and offered you a tissue. You nodded and denied her offer by showing her a little smile. "I didn't run, y/n. I didn't run that time." Eddie sounded proud of himself. You bit your lip down. "Look, this is what you're gonna do. You're gonna snatch that diploma and your gonna live. For us. And I'm not leaving you, not now and not never. I'd be right next to you every day of your life, watching after you. You can consider me your guardian angel if you'd like but I don't think I'm getting any close to heaven." He let out a giggle. "You've been the greatest life partner I could've ever asked for. Please, live y/n." And then he disappeared. You turned your head to look at the chair next to you, empty again, when a gust of wind blew, it was soft, refreshing, it soothingly caressed your wet cheeks and it smelled like him.

You started doing what he said. The walk to get your diploma felt so long as you battled with your knees for them to not give up. Joyce and Hopper got up from their seats, their hands applauding at a scandalously fast pace, and Jonathan taking pictures of you with his best camera. You also could hear Steve's cheers from there, his hands on both sides of his mouth to project his voice louder. El and Will were also clapping their hands, big smiles on their faces. You took the guitar pick on your necklace and placed a kiss on the small object.

"This is for you, Eddie."

#stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things headcanons #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington imagine #jonathan byers fluff

[soulquest7]

TODAY'S MORNING LIGHT PHOTO:

Morning light photo NOW...

It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living. --F. Scott Fitzgerald

#light worker #talesfromtopographicoceans #jon anderson #steve howe #jon davison #sufjan stevens #edgar winter #denison witmer #joseph parker #yoga #vegetarian #inner light #Tales From Topographic Oceans #space cadet

[sleepinginmygrave]

uh. hello

you can call me jupiter or james but nicknames are more than welcome ⁞ minor ⁞ they/he/she ⁞ pangender ⁞ pan+aroaceflux ⁞ saphillean ⁞ capricorn ⁞ christian ⁞ witch ⁞ french ⁞ regulus + barty + remus kinnie ⁞ harp player ⁞ art is the most important thing to me ⁞ astronomy and marine biology nerd ⁞ big big big animal lover ⁞ huge classical music enjoyer

about me. i guess

musical artists (it is all over the place sorry)↬tv girl. alex g. mac demarco. current joys. mother mother. ethel cain. abba. lamp. korn. ichiko aoba. lisa ono. gorillaz. radiohead. nirvana. tyler, the creator. mf doom. crystal castles. conan gray. home. cavetown. deftones. sum 41. rammstein. the smiths. david bowie. queen. t-rex. the beatles. arctic monkeys. simon & garfunkel. sufjan stevens. the cure. strawberry guy. lana del rey. steve lacy. the neighborhood. roar. vacations. lukrembo. liana flores. duster. kyo. sign crushes motorist. macabre plaza. beabadoobee. m83. her's. memo boy. pink pantheress. men i trust. eminem. beach house. yot club. cigarettes after sex. tame impala. eyedress. jack stauber.

classical composers↬ tchaïkovsky; ravel; saint saëns; debussy; satie; fauré; grieg; shostakovtich; liszt

currents animals obsession↬ jellyfishs, sharks, whales, whale sharks, african wild dogs, bovines, horses, (all farms animals. tbh), isopods, snails, any murids, all birds

things i'm deeply passionate about (or enjoy)↬ the sea • rain • animals • plants • poetry • art in any from • classical music • forests • thanatology • marine biology • astronomy • music • bugs • reading at night • art history • plants • gothic architecture • flowers • winnie the pooh

hobbies↬ baking. painting. drawing. knitting. crocheting. playing the harp. going outside. skateboarding. listening to music. reading.

miscellaneous

• i love baking and uhhh i make crêpes almost every week

•i knit and crochet. a lot. too much

• i'm half norwegian so i go there every years and you will see me posting about it

•i have three older brother :3

• you probably guessed that i play the harp (if you didn't then. uh), i've been for 8 years now, i'm in a concervatory and play in an orchestra :]

•i love uhhh music,,a lot,,,

• i'm very normal about everything (lying. if you couldn't tell)

•i love love love winnie the pooh and tagging me in Winnie the pooh stuffs is more than welcome

• i'm just a silly guy ya'll :3

• i'm in a qpr with the amazing @url0cal-weird0 <33

• I LOVE ART SO SO MUCH GUYS art history is so so so interesting and i will reblog a lot of art stuffs (i also do art (oil pastels my beloved) and will post it occasionally if i feel silly)

• also i'm uhh i'm a jellyfish.. (literally. i'm something alterhuman probably therian or otherhearted)

• i'm trying so hard to make this intro post aesthetic and uhhh stuff but really i'm just a guy i promise i can't do anything serious in my life this is very hard for me please be kind :3

• how do you. make a cool intro post

(dividers by @roseraris and @the-blinkie-guy)

blinkies and userboxes!!

#intro post #can you. guys believe it #jupiter james sleepinginmygrave on tumblr dot com. has an intro post #CAN YOU BELIEVE IT #yes i know it's not finished i would have let this rot in my drafts for way longer if i didn't had like 200 followers #like uh. #i could not stay in this situation #please do not judge my shitty moodboards please i had to do with what's in my gallery because i have a problem with my wifi #oh my god #i'm super super embarassed to post this #but i have to #well #at least you guys will have some info about me until i make something pretty... #this is taking me SO MUCH ENERGY #dont know how you guys can do such pretty and cool intro posts effortlessly #like #how #ANYWAY #haha #moi #GOLLY #am i really gonna post this #yeah #well shit #Spotify