#but they’re all great in their own ways
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Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)
The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff.
Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.
At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.
And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.
—————
You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.
“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.
“Shoot.”
She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.”
Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”
She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.
“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”
At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality.
“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.”
You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”
“No, Yuqi. Just go—”
“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”
You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.
“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.
“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”
Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?
“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”
“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.
You can only sigh in response before closing the door.
—————
Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.
“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”
“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed.
You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”
“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.
“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.
She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”
“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”
Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.
“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”
Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.
“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”
“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.
You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”
“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”
To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.
You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures.
This feels like your first day together all over again.
—————
The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word.
When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way.
“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears.
“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.
“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.”
“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.
You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?”
“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—”
“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”
“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Not even a little—”
“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.”
You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation.
The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.
Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.
—————
“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.
“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”
“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”
You’re not sure how to respond.
“Oof.”
You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.
“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”
“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”
She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate.
—————
“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.
Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.
“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.
“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”
“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers.
“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”
“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.
“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”
—————
At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.
You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”
That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi.
Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”
“Elaborate.” You laugh.
“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”
“And for good reason. Look at us now.”
If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.
“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.”
The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.
“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back.
“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.”
Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds.
“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”
You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”
“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”
“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.”
If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?
“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.
“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw.
It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face.
And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise.
Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.
The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.
“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”
You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic.
“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”
“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”
The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.
The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.
“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.
“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”
You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.
“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.
After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.
—————
The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.
In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.
It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.
Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.
To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there.
“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”
“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.
“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”
“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”
“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”
So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.
“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”
Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing.
“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”
“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.”
Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same.
Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests.
You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.
“What do you mean?” You take another sip.
“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.
“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek.
“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”
“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”
“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by.
The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.
Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again.
Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.
You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning.
Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.
—————
Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:
> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi
Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.
Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable.
So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.
You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.
“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”
“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”
A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”
You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”
“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”
“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”
Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.
That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.
Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”
“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.
She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”
Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!”
Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.
Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint.
The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all.
There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.
“Fuck—oh fuck—”
You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer. Way more explicit. Vivid.
“So—so—good—fuck yes—”
There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good.
As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.
“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”
It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.
There’s no better opportunity than now.
With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself.
Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.
Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.
Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.
“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”
It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.
She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”
The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.
“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”
Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.
When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.
Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell.
So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:
“Hey.”
Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:
“W-what time is it?”
Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.
She doesn’t.
“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”
She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.
Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours.
“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—”
“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”
Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.
Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.
Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in.
“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”
You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought.
Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”
“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”
“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”
“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought you were—”
“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”
And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.
You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly.
It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.
And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her.
“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.
Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.
You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you.
Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—
Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”
The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever.
And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.
You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating.
“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”
“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”
You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.
It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.
And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.
“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”
The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.
It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.
Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.
And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.
“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.
“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips.
“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”
Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.
And God, it fucking burns.
You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her.
She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core.
You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.
There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.
—————
You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.
And it was.
It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”
This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.
Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.
“So, Yuqi.”
The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them.
“About last night—”
Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret.
“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”
“Sorry for what?”
You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.
Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”
You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.
“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”
“And that is?”
“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”
It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”
“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”
That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.
“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.
“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin.
“I think I know exactly how.”
And that’s all that needed to be said.
Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.
All the more reason for you two to stay together.
—————
(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)
(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)
(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)
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episode five: the flayed
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”
“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Summary: you have the worst birthday of your life, you almost strangle steve with your bare hands and then later get snot all over him, erica is your savior, dustin is doing his best, robin starts to suspect things, and the russians have opened a gate to the upside down. its all pretty miserable tbh. but hey ! at least steve won a fight !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hi loves !! chapter five we get some more insight into bug and her very anxious mind. shes just a stressed out gal. bless her. anyways, bug aside im so so so excited to get to chapter 6. i have so many plans for her <3 but !!! for now pls enjoy chapter 5 and more chaotic steve n bug ;)
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Everyone is screaming as you all fall.
You lost your stomach about a hundred feet ago.
Steve clings onto you, his chest sturdy behind you as your arms tighten around the kids. Their screams are deafening; you know that you’re screaming too, but the pounding in your head rings in your ears and drowns out their fear.
“We’re going down!” Steve screeches, arms now even tighter around you as he braces his back against the wall.
“No shit Harrington!” Robin is on the opposite wall.
Your nails dig into Steve’s arms, both from panic and from anger. “I fucking told you!”
As you scream at the teen, Erica and Dustin pry apart from you and run over to the vault’s buttons. They begin to argue, the rush of the room’s falling almost makes it hard to hear what they’re saying, but you know they’re freaking out just like everyone else.
“Push the button!” You hear Erica yell at your brother, and he turns to her with pure melodrama to screech back at her, “What do you think I’m doing?”
Steve pulls you further into his chest as he screams at the kids. “Press something! Just press the button!”
It’s a mess, the room fills with more screaming as everyone argues and pushes against one another in futile attempts to prevent the vault from plummeting even further. Your nails dig further into Steve’s arms and you close your eyes, too numb with fear to do anything else.
Then, suddenly, everything stops.
The room comes to a halt, you’re no longer plummeting to imminent death, and everyone crashes against the wall or ground while a giant box lands on you and Steve.
He takes the brunt of the damage, the box having fallen from behind him, but the impact is enough to send you crashing to the ground with your elbow catching against the side of the shelf the box had come from. Groaning, your knee shoves into Steve’s body, causing him to wheeze in pain. “My groin, you’re on my groin.”
You ignore him and get up, not offering your hand to him, and make sure Dustin and everyone else is okay. Seeing your stoic manner, Steve groans. “A little help here, anyone?”
Again you ignore him and make your way further into the room and stand there, slowly coming to the realization of what’s happened. Your limbs feel heavy, your head is pounding, and you’re locked in an apparent elevator made by Russians after falling hundreds of feet below Starcourt.
“Is everyone okay?” Robin hesitantly asks after Dustin has helped Steve up from the ground.
“Fine,” you rasp out, body still in shock.
Steve’s body is in its own state of shock as he starts to freak out yet again. “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!”
He shoves past Dustin and starts to jab at the buttons once more, but it’s no use. Robin tries to stop him, but Steve continues to press the buttons repeatedly anyways. He’s frantic, his eyes wide an wild with fear, and you stand in the corner as watch as he starts to realize himself just how fucked the five of you are in the current situation.
After days of ignoring the possible danger, it’s now glaring in his face, and Steve becomes even more frantic when he notices that you’re still standing behind everyone, silent.
He’s fucked up.
“It’s an electronic lock.” Robin starts to explain, and you listen silently. “Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning–”
“We’re stuck in here.” Dustin announces, already having figured it out himself.
The pounding in your head intensifies at your brother’s words as fear claws its way into your throat. You’ve spent the last two days pleading with everyone to listen to you, to be cautious and not go in over your heads about the Russians, and yet here you are: locked in a fucking elevator with Steve looking at you with utter guilt.
You had been right the entire time.
And yet no one bothered to believe you.
As Erica announces to the group that if she isn’t back by uncle Jack’s party tomorrow then her mom will ransack the town to find her and Steve yells at her about how he doesn’t care about the party if you all end up dead in the Russian elevator, a defeated and deranged laugh begins to swell from your chest before it forms into complete hysterics.
The laughs fall from your mouth in a frantic manner, and everyone slowly turns to look at you. Erica doesn’t understand what’s going on, though Steve, Dustin, and Robin share horrified looks; they all know that you’ve officially crossed the line that separates anger from insanity.
“Dead in a Russian elevator, huh?” You manage to bitterly spit out in between bouts of laughter. There are tears in your eyes, though no one is sure if they’re from laughing or anger or despair. “God, Harrington, you really fucked up.”
You’re practically wheezing now from laughing so hard, hunched over as the action takes over your entire body. You had been right, and yet you’re now stuck in an elevator with Lucas’ little sister and your own brother, responsible for their lives even though you’ve never asked to be. Ever.
Steve tugs at his hair, just as overwhelmed as you are. He’s terrified of what he’s dragged you into, and he’s even more terrified that he was the asshole who refused to listen to you. Defensive, he throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Why would you even listen to me? I mean, I’ve never been right a day in my life!”
“Oh, so this is all my fault?” Your body manages to move towards him, now standing toe to toe as you sneer in his face.
The laughter is now gone.
“You’re the one who let me continue this stupid Russian adventure–”
“I begged you to listen to me, but you refused to!”
Steve lets out his own deranged laugh. “How was I supposed to know we’d end up in a goddamn elevator of death?”
“God, how hard is it for you to admit that I was right?” Your fists shake as they clench against your side, your voice is raw from screaming. “Would it fucking kill you to admit that maybe I’m not just some pathetic people pleaser and that I actually know what I’m talking about–”
“Guys!” Dustin shoves the two of you apart, afraid that you’ll tear Steve’s eyes out any second. He points up, gathering everyone’s attention again, and reveals an opening in the elevator’s ceiling. “What if we climbed out?”
Hope sparks in your chest when you see the opening and you’re the first to shove past Steve and the others and start climbing up the boxes to get to it. Dustin follows, then Steve, and when the three of you climb up and out of the elevator, the small spark of hope in your chest quickly vanishes when you look up and see the hundreds of feet the elevator has fallen.
“What were you saying about climbing?” Steve’s voice echoes off of the walls surrounding the elevator. They’re smooth, pure metal and infrastructure, and you swallow down tears.
There’s no way any of you can possibly climb up them. You’re stuck.
Admittedly, Dustin handles this realization a lot better than you do. He immediately starts to come up with another plan, he has his radio, he can call for help, and as he comes up with new ways to reignite the hope with Steve, you wordlessly descend back down into the elevator. You don’t spare the two boys another glance as you leave, too emotionally exhausted and still shaking from the waves of guilt and anxiety that plague you.
After you’ve silently left, Dustin turns to Steve. He feels just as awful as the teen, they both failed to listen to you, and now they’re left with your stoic anger that leaves them both feeling raw. “We fucked up, man.”
“She needs us right now,” Steve claps his hand against the boy’s back, his words strong but voice frail. “Let’s go.”
They climb back down into the elevator as well and find you, Robin, and Erica all sitting against the walls, silent. You must’ve already told the girls what the three of you found above. There’s nothing you guys can do now besides wait for whatever comes next, even Dustin can recognize that.
Your knees are drawn into your chest, your chin rests against them as you sit alone at one wall, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so small before. Sighing, he looks at Dustin, who gives him a nod to wish him luck, before he makes his way over to you and sits down. You don’t react to Steve’s presence besides allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and it’s enough to calm the relentless remorse he feels within him.
No one speaks for a while.
The hours pass, the room silent as you all realize what the fuck you’ve gotten yourselves into.
–
You’re not sure how much time passes by, the walls within the elevator block out all possible sunlight, but eventually you figure it’s well into the night. After the initial shock had worn off, Dustin, Robin, and Erica had sat closer together and tried distracting themselves with sleep while you sat against the wall with Steve; your head never leaves his shoulder, and neither of you talk.
However, by what you figure is hour five, you desperately need air. You can’t sleep, the walls have started to close in around you once more, so you stand up, side step your sleeping brother, and climb up to the top of the elevator once more.
Steve follows you; he always follows.
He finds you sitting at the edge of the elevator, feet dangling over the ledge with your shoulders drawn in. Slowly he approaches you and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh pressed against thigh. You don’t say anything, and Steve again feels horrible for not listening to you earlier; he knows that for once it has to be him that is strong enough for the two of you.
“Talk to me,” Steve breathes out, pleading. It’s just you and him now, one one else, away from prying eyes. You’re safe with him, you will always be safe with him, but he needs to hear your voice and bring color back to your cheeks. “Please.”
Hearing the desperation in his voice, knowing that Steve has never once meant you any harm, that he’s just as scared and alone as you are, you finally break.
You throw yourself into Steve’s arms and sob. The tears come all at once, there is no build up. The moment you are in his embrace, the moment your ear presses against his chest and you hear his heartbeat, the tears come.
“I hate that I always end up here,” you cry into his chest, all that you’ve swallowed down now comes spiraling out of you. “I’m just–I’m so fucking frustrated. I–I keep doing this to Dustin, he’s always in danger because of me.”
Your voice hitches as your breath stutters. There’s more that you want to say, the guilt that has haunted you since Will biked home that fateful night swells within you, but your tears prevent you from voicing any of it. “I–I’m supposed to keep everyone safe but–God, it’s hard when no one listens to me. No one ever listens to me.”
You were supposed to listen to me.
Though you don’t say it, Steve hears it anyway.
He’s silent through it all, frightened and aching, knowing you keep so much within you. Steve has never seen you cry before, he’s never seen you break like this, and he despises himself for being the reason why.
Another miserable sob escapes you and all Steve can do is pull you in closer, furious at the world for the fact that he cannot fit you into his chest where he can keep you safe behind his ribcage, next to his heart.
You cling onto Steve and allow the last few years you’ve carried on your shoulders to finally crush you. “I just feel so useless–how can I…” you sniffle, try to steady your breathing as the words on your tongue terrify you. “How–how can I love if I can’t–I have to protect everyone.”
Your voice breaks once more and Steve allows you to take all the time you need. He continues to hold you through it, he presses soft kisses to your face, lips wet from your tears, he plays with your hair, he does whatever he can to engrave his apology into your body.
“I’m so stupid,” you pull away now, the tears slowing and embarrassment creeping through. You’re overwhelmed with your debilitating need to protect the ones you love, as if you cannot love someone if you cannot save them, and you know it’s stupid and immature to believe such things. As the exhaustion sinks into your body, you realize with a start what day has creeped upon you while in the elevator.
It’s July third.
With Steve looking down at you with a sinful guilt in his eyes, you wipe your own eyes and laugh pathetically at your realization. “This entire situation is stupid. It’s my seventeenth birthday and I’m stuck in a fucking death elevator.”
Steve’s arms tighten around you and he draws in a quick breath at your words. It’s your birthday. He had thought he couldn’t feel worse about what he dragged you into, but he had been wrong. You should be in your room right now, tucked away from danger, celebrating the first moments of your birthday with Steve crawling through your window with the gift he worked so hard to convince the party to help with.
Instead, you’re crying in Steve’s arms with imminent death looming over you because of him, and he thinks he’s never felt tears as heavy as yours.
“I’m sorry,” he gently lifts your chin with the same finger that has caressed your face a million times. The soft gesture makes you weak, and when your eyes meet Steve’s, he brings his lips down upon your forehead. He lingers, his lips are rough but familiar, and there’s more he wants to say. The words build within him, all the apologies, but he knows they’d fall on deaf ears. You’re exhausted, you’ve revealed more to him tonight than you ever have before, and he knows the vulnerability stabs at you viciously,
Instead, Steve kisses your cheek next, then your other cheek, then the tip of your nose, your chin, your eyebrows, anywhere his lips can reach, and the action causes a small giggle to blossom within you. Hearing the sound he loves so much, Steve smiles. “Happy birthday, angel.”
Your hand comes up to his face, and though a part of you warms at what Steve has said, another part of you aches. Jonathan has always been the first person to wish you a happy birthday, a tradition from when you were kids and snuck into each other’s windows the second the clock struck midnight. Now Jonathan is gone and Nancy is angry and you’re tired of it all. With a bittersweet smile, you cup Steve’s cheek in the palm of your hand. “Thank you, honey.”
The world stills between the two of you for a brief moment, his face in your hand and your heart in his arms. It’s reminiscent of earlier in the breakroom, the uncertainty that drapes over you and Steve while the certainty secures you both to each other.
It isn’t perfect, Steve’s uncertainty has hurt you, but he holds you with a certainty that makes you believe that somehow the two of you will make it out of this alive, together. He nuzzles his face into your palm as if he physically needs to be closer to you, and it settles something that stirs in your chest.
Exhaling, you rest your head in the crook of Steve’s neck and curl into him. He pulls you in closer, as he’s always done, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted from everything.
Steve isn’t sure how long you sleep in his arms, his muscles ache from holding you, but he accepts the burn as punishment for the hurt he’s caused you. He sits there, staring at the metal walls, and falls asleep himself.
–
You wake up to Dustin trying to contact someone on his radio. His annoyingly loud voice causes you to groan in annoyance, you’re warm, comfortable, and had been dreaming about something that left your chest feeling light.
“Code red, I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”
Rolling over, a pair of arms hold you near a sturdy body, and you remember now that you fell asleep in Steve’s arms. Burying your face deeper into his chest, you groan again. “Make him shut up.”
“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker before going back to his radio. “This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy?”
Steve sighs, sounding just as tired as you feel. “The kid has been at this for the last hour or so. Woke me up, too.”
You hear Dustin’s footsteps as he paces. “We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins.”
“‘The Red Army’ is dramatic.” You mumble, still mourning that you’ve been woken up.
Dustin ignores you. “If we are found, they will torture and kill us.”
“How peachy.”
Steve snaps his fingers at your brother, motioning for him to shut up. “Hey, you gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”
“That’s what we’re worried about right now?”
“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker again with a scoff. “The mall just opened, so someone could be in range.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “What, you think Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?”
You give a thumbs up to what the teen has just said. “‘Rappel’, good word choice there.”
“Alright, why are you two such cranky pants after getting to spend the night together?” Dustin asks, off put by your snarkiness. He knows you’ve never really been a morning person, but your face is still buried in Steve’s chest and you haven’t looked at Dustin since waking up.
“Shut up, Dustin.” You and Steve say at the same time, both too drained to entertain his usual teasing.
Your brother sighs and changes the subject. “I heard you guys talking all night, did you at least figure out a way out of here?”
You shift in Steve’s arms, now uncomfortable. Neither of you had talked about what to do next, for once you had been selfish and put yourself first, allowing yourself to cry. Sensing the brewing guilt, Steve covers for you both. “No, we’re still exactly nowhere, which is, ya know, probably just a little bit of the reason why we’re feeling just a tad cranky.”
“What he said,” you hide a smile in Steve’s chest, but he feels it anyways.
Then, because he’s Steve and is physically incapable of allowing you a moment of peace, he taps your shoulder. “Hey, uh. Not to ruin this, but can you get up so I can pee?”
“Here?” You and Dustin exclaim in unison, both of you equally disgusted.
“Well where else am I supposed to go?”
“Ugh,” you wrinkle your nose and get up, hating that Steve has a point. However, rather than stay and watch the guy pee, you decide to leave and check up on Erica and Robin. You’ve been up here long enough, anyways. “Keep your body fluids away from me.”
As you climb down, you hear Steve screaming at Dustin to turn away as your brother wishes you a happy birthday.
They’re such idiots sometimes.
“Did I just hear Dustin screech about someone’s birthday?” Robin asks you as you jump down the last box and join her side. She’s in front of the elevator’s panel, inspecting the buttons.
You wince, not liking the reminder of what today is. “It’s… my birthday.”
Robin gasps and grabs at your hand. “Is it actually? Oh my God–” She’s cut off by the sound of liquid splattering against a wall, and with horror the two of you realize that it’s Steve’s piss. Making a face, the girl calls out, “Can you redirect your stream, please?”
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”
“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Robin laughs and you feel okay for a moment, enjoying the small respite, before the sound of glass banging against metal catches your attention. Turning around, you find Erica slamming one of the vials of liquid against the bars, and immediately you and Robin run to stop her.
“Hey, be careful!” Robin snatches the cylinder from the girl and tosses it to you for safekeeping. “We don’t even know what that is.”
“Exactly, it could be useful.” Erica argues.
You hold the vial up high so that she can’t reach; you know the Sinclairs, they’re speedy little devils. “Please elaborate.”
“We can survive down here a long time without food,” Erica jumps and tries to grab what you’ve taken, but you only hold the liquid further out of her reach. “But if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”
You’re momentarily impressed by the girl’s survival knowledge, but Robin is undeterred. “I hate to break it to you, but this is not water.”
“No, but it’s a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”
“You are fascinating,” you breathe out, both terrified and in awe. As you stare at Erica in wonder, Robin seems to hear something and leaves your side to press her ear against the opposite wall. Frowning, you join her. “What is it?”
“Listen.”
You do as you’re told and press your own ear against the wall, and it only takes you a second to hear it too. Mechanical whirling, the same sound that you heard last night before all the walls in the elevator came crashing down and trapped you. “Shit.”
Robin nods grimly. “You get Erica while I warn the boys.”
Within a minute you’ve helped Erica climb the top of the elevator as you all hide up there. No sooner than when you’ve closed the roof’s opening, one side of the metal wall begins to open and the footsteps of men can be heard.
Through the grates, you and Steve hunch over as you watch two men walk into the elevator. They’re big, dressed in a bizarre uniform, and one of them is smoking. They talk about something, their words are terse, and for a moment you worry they’ve figured out that you’re hidden above, but eventually they grab a few boxes and make their way outside.
As the men move back and forth below you, grabbing more and more boxes, you look up at Steve and find him staring at the green liquid you still have in your hands. During the frantic rush to get Erica to safety, you had forgotten to set the chemicals down. His eyes narrow slightly, as if asking you if you’re thinking what he is, and distantly you remember how much force the cylinder seemed to be able to withstand when Erica was slamming it.
If you truly are on the same page as Steve, then it’s a fucking risky plan, but it’s the only chance you have.
You hand the vial to him and nod, silently urging him to be safe. Then, you turn to the others and risk whispering what you and Steve have thought of. He keeps watch, hand on the small of your back to indicate to you when to stop talking, and soon the plan is formed.
The moment the Russian men have left the elevator, Steve quickly jumps down from the roof and slides the chemicals underneath the rapidly closing door. You watch nervously, and when the cylinder miraculously holds up against the metal door, you exhale in relief. Steve waves for you and everyone else to jump down as well. “Let’s go!”
You jump down first and slide Erica’s backpack over to Steve before helping her down. Once she successfully slides under the door, you help Dustin down next. The glass starts to splinter under the pressure, the sound of it creaking fills you with dread, but you push the fear down and help Robin next. “Go, go, go!”
When it’s your turn, you hold your breath and will yourself to slide underneath the door to join the others. As you go under, you see the glass start to splinter even more, and you quickly roll onto your stomach and frantically wave at Steve. “Steve, you need to hurry!”
He scrambles underneath the door and only just manages to narrowly escape as the door comes slamming down. Steve instinctively covers you with his body as the glass from the vial shatters, and when you look up and see the green liquid now sizzling as it burns through the concrete floor, you shudder. “You guys see that too, right?”
“Jesus Christ.” Steve stands up and offers you his hand as he inspects the liquid’s damage.
Erica, Robin, and Dustin step forward now too, and the five of you peer over the liquid as it oozes and bubbles, melting everything it touches. You shudder again, you can’t believe that there were boxes full of it surrounding you earlier.
“You still wanna drink that?” Robin turns Erica, smirking.
“You guys think it’d be like drinking lava?” You ask the group, and everyone shakes their heads at you. Adrenaline is still coursing through you, your head feels woozy from lack of sleep and water, and you think you’re slowly losing your mind.
Meanwhile Dustin turns away from you, and when he sees what surrounds you all, his heart drops. “Holy mother of God.”
Turning around, your heart drops as well. There’s a giant hallway that faces you, blue lights illuminating it, and it stretches deep into the abyss. You realize, now, that the elevator had been only the beginning. As you stare down the endless hallway, its length reminiscent of the tunnels you almost died in last year, it hits you that you’ve truly stumbled upon something horrible.
The Russians have been here a long, long time if they were able to build such a vast and complex underground facility.
And now you’re trapped within it, with nothing but your knives to keep you and everyone else safe.
“Well, hope you guys are in good shape.” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. He pats Dustin’s shoulder and starts to lead the way. “Looking at you, roast beef.”
Unamused with the insult directed at your brother and still angry at the teen for dragging you into this mess in the first place, you trip Steve. He stumbles and only just barely manages to catch himself, which everyone snickers at and Dustin high fives you.
With a sigh, Steve grabs your hand and beckons for everyone to follow. “Let’s go, guys.”
–
It’s a goddamn long walk.
You’re miserable.
It’s hot, you’re covered in sweat and grime, you're starving, and this is officially the worst birthday ever. Sure, you’ve never really liked your birthday, but holy fuck you didn’t think it’d be this bad.
You’re snappier than usual with everyone, which a part of you feels guilty for. Robin tried making conversation in the beginning, but you only responded with curt, one word answers. It truly isn’t her fault, none of this is anyone’s fault, but the anger that simmers within you threatens to boil over and you’re too tired to control it.
Yet Steve keeps your hand within his and walks by your side, unaffected by your unusual anger. He lets you remain quiet, he doesn’t take offense to your terse responses, and he smiles apologetically at Robin for you because he knows you’d do the same if you were able to; he’s there for you.
Steve knows how much anger resides within you, and he helps you brave it.
You love him endlessly for it.
“You think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” Steve asks the group as they speculate about why the Russians even built this underground system in the first place.
“I very seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison.” Dustin responds, and you scoff at him.
“Yeah, because poison is boring.”
He looks at you warily and decides not to risk further exasperation. “What I mean is, it’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”
“What the hell is promethium?” Steve looks to you, but you only shake your head. Dustin’s the science whiz, not you.
Instead Robin answers him, though her response about some guy named Victor Stone and a cyborg only confuses both you and Steve more.
“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica cringes with disgust, and her theatrics are hard to resist smiling at.
“No, no.” Steve interjects. “No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, alright?”
“Why so sensitive, Harrington?” Robin asks him, smiling at his offense. “Afraid of losing cool points to a ten year old child?”
“He takes his cool points very seriously, Robin.” You now speak up, a slight smile on your face. You’ll never pass up an opportunity to tease Steve. Nudging him with your shoulder, you laugh softly and glance up at him. “Admit it, you’re a nerd.”
If it were anyone else saying this, Steve would adamantly refuse such a notion, but it’s you and you’re finally smiling at him again, so instead he huffs with amusement. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I am, but I still don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.”
“Promethium,” Dustin corrects. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.”
“Or power something?” In their eerie fashion, Robin and your brother now seem to once again be on the same page.
“Like a nuclear weapon?”
“Totally.”
You rub the temples of your head and sigh, your previously brightened mood quickly dims again. “Cool. Nuclear weapons are cool.”
Robin mumbles a quick sorry to you, she wishes she could change the topic, but there’s a question that’s been on her mind ever since you discovered the Russians. “But if they’re building something, why here? I mean, Hawkins. Seriously, of all places.”
As Robin continues to drone on about how bizarre of a choice Hawkins is, you, Steve, and Dustin all slow down and let her and Erica walk ahead. They don’t notice your guys’ sudden change of pace, and the three of you slowly come together; you know you’re all thinking the same thing.
The question has been on your mind for a while, too.
“You think the Russians know?” Dustin finally asks in a lowered voice.
Steve leans forward, his own voice lowered as well. “About–”
“They could.”
“So it’s all connected?”
While the boys whisper to one another, you feel a shiver run through you. Again you remember the sweat that had been on Billy’s brow and how pale he had been. You remember Will’s fearfulness at Weathertop hill, how he had clutched the back of his neck. You remember Mrs. Waters, Jonathan and Nancy, Mrs. Driscoll.
Something isn’t right, and now there’s Russians in Hawkins with a giant maze of high architectural design.
“It has to be.” You say now. “There’s too much to ignore. “
Dustin frowns at you. “What do you mean? Is there something else?”
“The Upside Down, I think there’s something wrong–”
You’re interrupted by Robin. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
The three of you turn to her, wide eyed and caught, and before you can come up with some excuse to get her off your backs’, Dustin’s radio comes to life as a Russian man’s voice speaks through it.
“Walkie,” you, Steve, and Dustin say at the same time, running towards where it resides in Erica’s backpack.
The Russian continues to drone through the walkie’s speakers as Dustin takes it out and Robin extends its antenna. She brings it close to her ear and listens intently, and after a few seconds she starts to speak the language as well, echoing what the man is saying. “It’s the code,” she finally says.
“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–”
“It’s close.” Robin finishes your brother’s sentence. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”
Dustin’s eyes light up. “It can reach the surface.”
“We’ll be able to call for help,” you breathe out, hopeful yet reluctant. It’s your only way out, but you also have no idea what lies within these walls.
“Let’s go!” Robin quickly stands up, plan already formed in her head, and all you can do is follow.
It doesn’t take long to figure out where the broadcast is coming from. Within a few minutes of walking, the walls begin to narrow and you hear more and more voices up ahead. You can sense that you’re drawing closer to the main area of the underground complex, and the closer you get, the tighter you clutch at your knives.
You and Steve work together on guiding everyone. He scouts for places to hide while you keep an eye out for any danger. Slowly, the six of you dodge and weave in and out from corners, avoiding Russians. In an odd sense, the routine is familiar and comforting; you and Steve have done this a million times before, the two of you know how to keep the other safe.
As Steve peers over a corner with the rest of you hiding behind him, Robin whispers into your ear. “How are the two of you so good at navigating scary dangerous situations?”
Her question is innocent enough, but you can sense that she’s piecing things together bit by bit. You try to keep your face neutral, not give anything away, and shrug at her. “We make a good team, I guess.”
Robin gags at this, which you’re thankful for. At least your response got her mind off of things.
Steve motions for everyone to follow after him once the coast is clear after a few guards have walked past. “Clear, come on, let’s go.”
He moves swiftly as you stay behind and make sure the rest of the group follows. Robin looks nervously at you, feeling vulnerable out in the open. “Okay, that was close.”
“Too close.” Dustin breathes out as he follows her, which you roll your eyes at. You and Steve are doing the best that you can, given the circumstances. If your brother wanted to worry about safety, he should’ve considered it twenty hours ago.
“Relax,” Steve reassures everyone. “Nobody saw…” His voice trails off as he rounds the corner.
Your jaw drops. It’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined.
In front of you is what you can only imagine is the main hub of the complex. There’s Russians everywhere, some dressed in guard uniforms carrying shotguns, some dressed in lab coats, and others look like glorified red astronauts.
You’re hopelessly outnumbered, there’s too many of them.
Steve curses and ducks down, pulling everyone with him as he hides behind a cart against the wall. You try to steady your breathing, you grip the back of Dustin’s shirt tightly in your hand. He looks at you in shock. “Red Dawn.”
“Not now,” you close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and exhale out your mouth. “I’m trying really hard not to lose yesterday’s lunch.”
“I saw it. First floor, northwest.” Erica urgently whispers to Steve.
“Saw what?”
“The comms room.”
You whip your head around to face the girl, making your nausea even worse, and Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You saw the comms room?”
“Correct!” Erica leans closer now, the insistence in her voice unwavering.
Dustin frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” this is the most sincere you’ve ever seen Erica. “The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”
“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin says, skeptical.
However, you believe Erica. She’s incredibly pragmatic, she wouldn’t blindly say something that she didn’t believe in. She’s a Sinclair, their morals define them, and Erica’s rant about capitalism and a free market system yesterday only solidifies your theory that she hides away most of her intelligence. “If Erica thinks she saw the comms room, then I believe her.”
She smiles at you gratefully, and Robin nods her head at the two of you. “If Y/N is on board, then I’ll take those odds.”
Steve stares at you, studies your face and your demeanor, and when he sees the set clench of your jaw and the determination in your eyes, he knows he trusts whatever call you make. He pokes his head out from behind the cart, the five of you mimic him, and even though you’re firm in your stance to follow Erica’s gut, it still strikes terror within you when you see once again how many guards there are.
Sighing tiredly, Steve faces the group. “We’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low. Okay?”
You nod at him. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles at you, nerves now calmed, and starts to guide everyone. He masterfully weaves in and out corners, ducks behind carts when someone walks past, and for a brief moment you’re in awe of him. He’s grown so much since that night at Jonathan’s, when he had run away the second things got too intense, and now he’s the one leading.
When he opens the door to the comms room, you’re almost overwhelmed with how proud you are of Steve. Then, naturally, as soon as everyone is inside, you turn around and come face to face with a very confused Russian guard.
And Steve has locked you in a room with him.
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do.
“Nice, Steve.” You sneer at him.
He looks at you incredulously. “Is now really the time?”
As you mock Steve, the Russian guard starts to reach for the gun at his side. Seeing this, you whip your knives out and display them to the man, the blades glint in the room’s red light. He narrows his eyes at you and tightens his grip on his own weapon, and for a moment you fear that you really will have to use your switchblade.
However, Robin is quick on her feet and puts her hand up to lower your knives. She starts speaking Russian in hopes of calming the guard down, and it seems to work at first, but when the guard starts speaking back to her, Robin’s plan quickly crumbles; it’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t speak the language.
The guard reaches for his gun once more, and before you can use your knives, Steve lets out a loud yell and throws himself at the guy, taking him by surprise.
“Steve!” You find yourself screaming, it’s instinctual.
For a moment all you can do is stand there and watch, stunned. The two men begin to fight, fists hitting skin as they shove one another, and you have just enough awareness to keep your knives raised in case you need to step in and help. You know Steve’s track record, yet as the fight progresses, you become less and less fearful for him. He’s holding his own surprisingly well.
Steve jabs his elbow into the guard’s stomach before grabbing a nearby intercom phone and slams it into the guy’s head. He falls, hard, onto the electric panel and hits the side of his head against it even harder.
The moment he lands on the ground, the Russian guard is out cold.
Panting, Steve stands over him and fixes his hair. You and Dustin exchange surprised looks, both of you ecstatic; Steve won.
“Dude!” Dustin exclaims with glee in his voice. “You won a fight!”
“It’s a miracle,” you breathe out in awe, now at Steve’s side as you check for any injuries. He preens at your attention, his eyes glow, and you can’t help but kiss his check. “Good job, honey.”
“Okay, okay, break it up.” Dustin shoves you away from Steve and then crouches next to the guard’s body, unhooking the keys from his belt loop. You roll your eyes at him while Erica questions what he’s doing. Over his shoulder, he responds, “Getting us our ticket out of here.”
Erica scoffs. “You want to walk all the way back?”
“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.”
“Have a picnic? We came here for the radio.”
The kids start to argue, but you don’t intervene. Instead, you fix Steve’s hair with your fingers and gently grab his face, moving it around to make sure he isn’t hurt. His skin is still smooth, untouched. “No bruises this time.”
He winks. “Gotta keep this face pretty for you, don’t I?”
“Yeah you do,” you pinch his cheek, laughing softly. “It’s your only redeeming quality.”
“Hey now–”
Robin suddenly appears, looking panicked. You quickly let go of Steve’s face and walk towards her, now noticing the staircase that she’s just come from. There’s blue light at the top, there’s an energy to it that makes you uneasy, yet it’s familiar.
“What is it?” You ask her, fearing that you already know.
“There’s something up there.”
You follow her up the stairs, and your heart drops at what you see. Steve sucks in a breath, his hand on your back.
There’s a room at the top of the stairs, similar to the one below, and there are several men sitting at control panels. Before them is a giant machine, its circular panel spins as it shoots a beam of light into what you can only describe as an open wound within the wall. It’s narrow, long in length, as orange light spills from it.
When Steve’s eyes meet yours, you both know.
It’s the gate.
The Russians have found the gate into the Upside Down.
Anger courses through you, and this anger is a familiar one. It’s the same anger you felt the day Will went missing, when El sacrificed her life to save everyone, when the men at Hawkins Lab continuously got away with ruining the lives of everyone you love.
After everything you, the kids, and everyone else went through to close the gate, it enrages you to see these fucking idiots trying to reopen it. You had almost died last year trying to end this bullshit, but now you see it had been for nothing.
The side of your ribcage burns, the scar reignited by your fury, and Steve feels your body tense against his. His eyes meet yours again, and without saying anything, you know he understands.
Nodding, the two of you are in agreement.
You have to stop this.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @moonpascal @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerrs @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @torntaltos @eeniemeenie @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector @l0ca1ax010t1 @whosyourgnomie
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#nya#m's writing#steve and bug are really going through it this chapter#but happy birfday bug !!!
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18
all too well blurb part 4
all too well masterlist
in which the twins turn 18, gaining a new age and a new last name
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GeorgiaAlonso: Alexa, play 18 by One Direction🗣️ what a year, gained a dad, gained a new last name and officially because F1’s princess,in my 18 era, let’s get wasted🩵 oh and happy birthday twin, i love you (other than when ur being annoying)
Y/NLN: happy birthday my baby girl, so proud of you💗 (you’re not getting wasted btw, it’s a family meal we’re having Georgia)
GeorgiaAlonso: oh…Is this a good time to tell you i’ve already started pre-drinking?
Username1: Georgia is such a mood I love her
username2: should she even be drinking? I swear you can’t drink at 18?
Username3: Georgia and AJ live the majority of the time with their mum in the UK, that’s where they go to school so they can drink at 18 - i think Fernando stays there with them a lot now.
AJAlonso: does that officially make me the prince of F1?
GeorgiaAlonso: no the price spot is reserved for Leclerc only, you can be the butler of F1
Username4: she gets the Charles hype, she is one of us
CharlesLeclerc: I was summoned?
GeorgiaAlonso: HI KING👑🫶🏻
username6: EVERYONE STAY CALM, THEY’RE OFFICIALLY GEORGIA AND AJ ALONSO
username7: crying in the club rn WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
username8: i read somewhere that for their birthdays, the twins wanted to get their surnames changes
FernandoAlonso: My beautiful child, happy birthday mi hija cannot wait to celebrate your amazing day and many more💚
AJAlonso: Another year older, another year cooler. Happy Birthday twin, at least i’ll always be taller than you.
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GeorgiaAlonso: alright big foot, no need to show off
AJAlonso: did someone say something? oh, sorry didn’t see you all the way down there
GeorgiaAlonso: go fuck yourself
AJAlonso: its my birthday you can’t say that to me, you have to be nice
GeorgiaAlonso: (it’s my birthday too tf) lemme rephrase it - thou should go fuck thyself please and thank you
LandoNorris: @/YN are they always like this? this is highly entertaining
YNLN: @/landonorris if you think this is entertaining please feel free to let them stay at ur house when they’re doing WWE
GeorgiaAlonso: i’m literally John Cena wym💪🏼
LandoNorris: i’ll pass, they’re both taller than me anyway i’m too scared
AJAlonso: @/LandoNorris are you the same height as Georgia? I think last time she measured she was 5’2
LandoNorris: i’m 5’2 and a HALF actually, thank you very much
YNLN: my boy, i love you so much, so proud of everything you have achieved💗 happy birthday! (please stop Georgia from drinking)
GeorgiaAlonso: AJ has literally drank more than me, where do you think all the beers have gone?
YNLN: @/fernandoalonso: sort your children out please, i had them on my own for 17 years now its your turn, but this time with alcohol involved
FernandoAlonso: ayúdame cristo (help me christ)
LanceStroll: i heard there was gonna be a family meal? Where was my invite?
LewisHamilton: and mine?
CharlesLeclerc: and mine?
GeorgeRussell: mine too?
OscarPiastri: I wanna be involved too?
DanielRicciardo: i heard alcohol was involved, when and where?
MaxVerstappen: Can I come?
LandoNorris: Do i mean nothing to you guys? Where was my invite
AlexAlbon: This is a trend i’m joining, where can I get an invite?
FernandoAlonso: no, none of you are invited (except Lance, you can come)
GeorgiaAlonso: WRONG, you can all come, do not listen to that old man, my besties gotta come see me😘
LanceStroll: I just wanted to come for the free food🧐
GeorgiaAlonso: choke
FernandoAlonso: my handsome boy! so proud of everything you do, you and your sister are my greatest achievements💚
AJAlonso: above you World Championship? damn, i’m honoured
FernandoAlonso: forgot about that one, lemme rephrase, *my second great achievements.
AJAlonso: 🤨thinking about changing my name back rn
YNLN: 18 years ago i gave birth to the most beautiful humans I have ever laid my eyes on. For years, it was just me and you both, you are both the funniest, kindest, smartest people I have ever met, thank you for letting me be your mum, it has been the best job i’ve ever had (but do your own washing now)
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GeorgiaAlonso: the best mama ever🩷 thank you for everything
AJAlonso: the best mum, the best supporter!
FernandoAlonso: thank you for bringing the most beautiful humans into the world💚 they truly are the greatest gift you ever could have given to me, you are the best mother ever x
YNLN: you also gave me the greatest gift, thank you for being such an amazing dad, you’ve made our heart whole again x
username8: get married already
username9: the best F1 family ever !!
DanielRicciardo: MILF
GeorgiaAlonso: DANIEL NO
FernandoAlonso: as many of you know, this last year I had the honour of getting to know my children Georgia and AJ, my beautiful girl and boy. Today is their birthday, their 18th to be exact, and I couldn’t be prouder of who they have grown up to be. I love you both so much (no matter how sarcastic and chaotic you both are) and I cannot wait to be here for many years to come and see the adults you are and all that you achieve💚
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GeorgiaAlonso: my papa!🫶🏻 does this mean now i can drive ur aston martin?
FernandoAlonso: absolutely not
GeorgiaAlonso: wtf
AJAlonso: thanks dad! but seriously can we drive ur aston martin? Have you seen me karting? i’m so good
FernandoAlonso: still a no
F1: we love the daddy Nando content🫶🏻
#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#fernando alonso fic#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso
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parenting trial
son chaeyoung x fem!reader ; fluff
synopsis: in which your date is interrupted when you hear someone’s child crying their eyes out
warnings: ummm none(?) ; not proofread
a/n: im actually supposed to be studying for my last final but uh oops... and happy pride!
chaeyoung’s head is in your lap, your fingers run through your hair as you two people watch, making up a background for each person that passes by.
an elderly woman walks a small poodle, humming a small tune as she does so. chaeyoung points to her and smiles.
“she’s definitely an undercover spy.” she says, making you laugh.
“was spy kids just permanently engraved in your brain after you watched it or...?”
chaeyoung turns her head and looks at you, offended. she pushes your face from where she is and you giggle at her expression. you scratch her scalp, then she rolls her eyes before explaining.
“it's the glasses, the way she holds herself, the poodle! who owns poodles? they’re definitely a breed planted by the government.”
you almost snort after hearing her little tangent.
“you’re so…” you move your hand down to squish her cheek for no reason. “creative.”
“thank you, i’m very proud of that trait.”
“why am i in love with you?" you mumble, looking at her squished cheek in between your fingers and her closed eyes. you smile at the answer in front of your eyes. “you’re so stupid.”
“you’re equally as dumb.”
“yeah okay whatev-“
your bickering is cutoff when you hear a loud wail, it catches pretty much everyone’s attention.
there’s a kid on the bench across the concrete path rubbing her eyes and sniffling. she looks to be around five years old, her bangs are quite wispy and her hair is cut just above her shoulders. she wipes her runny nose with the pink shirt she has on and starts to cry again — louder than ever — before quieting down in ten seconds.
chaeyoung looks at you — head still in your lap — and you look right back at her. the soothing movement of your hand in her scalp stops when she gets up to look at the kid as well.
“stay here love, i’m going to go check on the girl.” you say cupping chaeyoung’s face lightly before getting up from the blanket you had been on and putting on your clogs.
chaeyoung watches you walk towards the kid and exchange a few words, which quickly has the girl quiet as she directs her attention on you. in a minute, you walk back towards the blanket with your pointer finger in the girls grip. your girlfriends eyes soften at the sight.
you sit down on the blanket and urge the hesitant child to sit down next to you. the girl shakes her head, then looks at chaeyoung skeptically. your eyes widen at the realization and you smile softly, holding her hand in yours.
“this is chaeyoung, she’s my um…” you begin, pausing to lean over and ask your lover: “do kids know about girlfriends? i mean probably — definitely. but is it like, appropriate?”
chaeyoung giggles and nods, “i think so.”
you face towards the girl again and say, “this is my girlfriend chaeyoung. she’s really nice and sweet, come sit, she’s a great person. trust me.”
the girl looks at the two of you hesitantly then sits directly in front of you and your lover. she sniffles again, unable to look up.
“what’s your name?” chaeyoung asks, voice soft and sweet. “my name is chaeyoung.” she introduces, sticking out her hand for the girl to shake.
the girl simply looks at the hand that has tattoos scattered all over, observing them for a bit. she doesn’t answer; she’s too mesmerized by the little doodles.
“oh, these?” chaeyoung asks, pointing at the tattoos that have the girls attention. “i drew them myself.”
“really?” her eyes widen, she's amazed. this is the first time you and chaeyoung have heard her speak. her voice is small and hesitant, though it seems she’s willing to lend her trust to two adults that decided to care for her.
chaeyoung nods. “you see this one? i drew it two years ago. do you like it?”
the girl examines the flowers on her fingers, a small smile spreads across her lips.
“i like those.” the girl mumbles, reaching for chaeyoung’s fingers to get a better look.
“me too.” you agree, looking at chaeyoung lovingly.
“can you draw one on me?” the little girl asks, looking at your girlfriend with curious, hopeful eyes.
chaeyoung turns to look at you, making eye contact and tilting her head to silently ask for you to help her out. to be fair, this is someone's child and you can't just start vandalizing someone's lost child. the two of you have a silent interaction with raised brows, mixed expressions, and mouthed words before the child tugs at chaeyoungs hand again.
"please miss chaeyoung?" the little girl asks, pouting.
chaeyoung looks at you again, portruding her lower lip to mimic the girl. your girlfriend is already convinced, it's just you that has to give her the green light before she goes ham on this kids arm with her pens.
"um, hold on." you interject, "we don't know if your parents would be fine with that."
the girl frowns again after being reminded that her parents are nowhere to be found, then starts to tear up again. you panic and so does your girlfriend after she begins to get vocal again, a tear now falling down her cheek.
"okay okay! wait, wait." you quickly say, trying to prevent others in the park from looking at you, your girlfriend, and someone's lost child. "how about you tell us your name first before chaeyoung draws anything, yeah?"
"tara. tara hong laurent." she immediately says, then turns to chaeyoung, urging her to start doodling.
so you have her whole name, which was easy enough to get although quite concerning because she had just given out her government name to strangers. chaeyoung picks up her pen and starts to draw something small on her pinky, then mouths "ask... more..."
"um, okay tara." you start, looking at her skeptically. "when was the last time you saw your parents?"
she frowns again, looking up at you. "i miss them."
"i know," you say softly, pushing her hair to the side. chaeyoung watches the whole interaction, the small gesture, and the small smile you give her; chaeyoung melts. "that's why we're going to help you find them. do you know their names?"
"james and jihyuk." she answers, watching chaeyoung as she scrunches her brow and doodle a small flower on the back of her hand. "do you know them?"
"oh, i don't know a james or jihyuk, but we'll find them tara, don't worry."
she grins. "miss chaeyoung, you're very good at this."
"thank you." chaeyoung turns to look at you, there's a sparkle in her eyes. "do you want to draw on y/n?"
"chaeng i-"
tara interrupts you, beaming at the opportunity. "yes! yes! please? can I?"
chaeyoung smirks at you and giggles mischieviously before handing the pen to the girl, then grabbing your forearm and pushing it toward the little girl. "the floor is yours tara, but can you answer a few more questions?"
she nods aggressively, making both you and your girlfriend laugh.
chaeyoung continues, "so, where were your parents the last time you saw them? how did you lose them?"
your girlfriend hands the girl the pen, she grabs it eagerly. tara starts to scribble something just below your already existing tattoo, something not so far off from a bunny. it's a messy scribble, clearly done by a child, but it's adorable.
"we were by the water and then my dads both went to get something from the store with me... then I saw a rabbit in the store! it was as big as my head! and it started running around the store and I followed it and it went outside and I followed it again and it kept running away from me!" she explains with frustration. "and then I looked around and I couldn't find my dads... and I went to the benches over there before miss y/n found me."
she adds small whiskers on the bunny she's drawing on your forearm, the drawing is the size of her hand, taking up a lot of space -- but it's adorable.
she seems unbothered by the fact that she's basically missing now, too busy admiring her work and smiling up at you. "do you like it miss y/n?"
your lips turn up, your cheeks flush from how happy she looks, then you nod. "I love it tara."
"yay! is it as good as miss chaeyoung's?"
pretending to think to yourself, you put a finger on your chin and look up at the sky. a little dramatically, you hum, then look back at the bunny inked on your forearm.
leaning closer and lowering your voice -- but not too quietly so chaeyoung can hear -- you respond, "I think it's better than hers."
tara smiles with her teeth, then leaps into your arms and gives you a big hug. she's so small, at least compared to you, clinging onto you like a koala. she pulls away to smile even bigger. "thank you thank you! i think I want to be an artist someday."
you look down at her and chuckle before placing a hand on her head and fixing the strands poking out. "do what you love, okay? i think you'd make a great artist."
chaeyoung watches the whole interaction, her head in her palm and cheeks warming from how adorable you are with her. chaeyoung sigh adoringly just from the sight, falling a little more for you -- especially after you look up, make eye contact, and smile warmly at her. she feels like a popsicle on a burning day.
"tara, we should find your parents. they shouldn't be too far from here, I hope."
"do you want my dad's number? the one with the mustache."
you and chaeyoung look at each other again, mouths widening and faces looking dumbfounded; tara's known her dad's phone number this whole time. the two of you laugh like idiots.
you reach for your phone and hand it to tara. "could you type their number in? I'll call them and we'll get you back to them soon."
"on it!" tara responds with a fist in the air, punching up excitedly.
chaeyoung watches her sit down next to you, and how you tilt your head a little strangely to match her level and meet the screen of your phone. tara's little fingers tap at the screen, then she shoves the phone up and hits your nose, eliciting a small squeak from you.
you rub your and nose and chaeyoung puts a hand to her mouth to stifle the laugh that's threatening to come out -- loud and so strong it'll have her falling down on the blanket -- she barely manages to do so.
rolling your eyes at her, you bring the phone up to your ear and wait for an answer. ten seconds pass before you hear a low "hello?" from the other end of the line.
"hi, is this james? or-- no, maybe jihyuk?"
"how did you get my number?" the man asks, his voice Is so low that it catches you off guard, but he's soft-spoken. "who are you?"
"hi, i'm not sure which dad this is but we found your daughter on a bench crying. she gave us your number and -- my girlfriend and I -- we've just been watching over her. we didn't know she knew her parents' numbers."
the man man lets out a sigh, it sounds like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "oh dear, y/n right? you're a life saver, thank you. where are you located? near the riverside I assume?"
"yeah, that's right. would you like us to meet you there soon? by the convenience store? it's not too far from us."
"yes, that's perfect. thank you so much, my husband and I have been panicking like crazy. see you soon."
"of course." you respond before hanging up. chaeyoung tilts her head, silently asking for a brief explanation. you look at tara, then hold her hand comfortingly. "we're going to go find your dads okay?"
tara nods before standing up, you and chaeyoung get up with her. the three of you all work together to fold the thin blanket that was previously under you, then shove it in the tote bag you had brought.
as you hang the tote bag on your shoulder, you feel your pointer finger being tugged at and look over to see tara. she's also holding chaeyoung's hand-- well, her pointer, middle, and ring finger. chaeyoung looks at you and smiles, mouthing a "she's adorable" in your direction. you nod in agreement and mouth back, "not as adorable as you" before winking teasingly, making chaeyoung roll her eyes and look away to conceal the faint dust of pink on her cheek.
the three of you make your way to the little riverside convenience store, tara in between you and your lovely girlfriend. you and your lover share eye contact again, both of you falling deeper in love without knowing it.
tara starts to drag you over to the railings near the riverside, but you and chaeyoung resist (somehow terribly, she's dragging the two of you with enough force for two grown adults to struggle holding her back), instead redirecting her to where her parents should be.
you catch the convenience store in the distance, then look down at tara. "almost there, you alright?"
"mhm!"
chaeyoung smiles at this side of you, she's never seen you so caring. you've always been an idiot or overly teasing with your friends -- she loves that, it's why she fell for you -- never this protective and caring.
you were always caring with your friends, attentive to their well-being. you were even more caring with chaeyoung, in a subtle way she always noticed. usually quiet in how you helped others, seeing you so sweet with this little girl shows how genuine and lovely you are. chaeyoung realizes that if you had kids someday, she’d love to be around a protective, caring you—just like you are right now.
the revelation is exciting, chaeyoung finds another way to love you even harder.
you spot two men outside the store. one stands out more—a big, buff, tall man. next to him is a shorter, lankier man with his hand on the other's shoulder, seemingly calming the bigger man with his touch -- just like how you comfort chaeyoung.
tara jumps, then lets go of both you and chaeyoung, running up to the two men and yelling "papa!"
the bigger man catches her in a hug, holding her close and his huge arms practically engulf her. his eyes widen and soften at the same time, then he kisses tara's temple and sighs in relief.
"tara! oh darling, i've been worried sick, your dad and I have both been." the voice is the same one you had heard on the phone earlier, the octave of his voice matches his appearance but the softness and care he shows reminds you of a huge teddy bear.
the smaller man looks at you and chaeyoung, offering a sincere, thankful smile. "thank you for taking care of our daughter, we've been quite worried."
he has a thick french accent, and just his appearance, mannerisms, and the way his words flow out make him seem a bit intimidating. she puts his hand out for you and introduces himself, "jihyuk."
you shake his hand before responding, "y/n."
chaeyoung also does the same, introducing herself and giving him a grin, "chaeyoung."
"thank you for taking care of her, seriously, we owe you the world." the other says, from what you can remember, he should be james since jihyuk has already been introduced.
chaeyoung waves her hand, then holds yours, squeezing tightly as she says, "my girlfriend noticed your daughter crying on a bench, she wanted to help. we were worried."
you nod and send her a quick smile. "ah! also, sorry about the scribbles on her..." you panic a bit, unsure of whether they'd approve of the artwork on her. "we tried to warm up to her and ask her questions, but she wouldn't budge until my girlfriend had drawn something on her." you explain, then you frantically start to ramble, "I'm so sorry about that, my girlfriend's tattoos caught her eye and she--"
jihyuk places his hand on yours before fixing the glasses he wears to sit on his nose bridge. his voice is higher, but he speaks with certainty and some slight authority in his tone, voice levelled, "it's alright dear, we're just glad that our daughter is well."
"right, yeah."
chaeyoung laughs at you and holds your hand a little tighter.
tara starts to squirm in her other dads grip, which urges james to set her down. she runs over to chaeyoung, hugging a leg and muttering, "thank you miss chaeyoung for the drawings, can you do it again sometime?"
your girlfriend looks at you, you look over at james, james looks at his husband jihyuk. jihyuk laughs and nods approvingly.
chaeyoung bends down to meet her level, then fixes the wispy bangs. "of course, anytime."
"yay!" tara beams, then hugs chaeyoung tightly. you watch the whole interaction, feeling your heart overload with adoration, threatening to burst out of your chest.
then tara runs over to you, almost making you lose balance when she collapses into your leg and holds on. you do the same as chaeyoung had done: meet her level and smile at her. "hi tara."
"thank you for helping me y/n, you're very beautiful and kind." your lips twitch a bit; she's seriously adorable. you hold her hand in yours and manage to mutter a low, "thank you."
tara hugs you one more time, it's warm and lovely and wow you never really thought about having kids--but now it's all you can think of as the small, energetic child hugs you with adoration and care.
she runs back to jihyuk and he holds her small hand in his.
james walks up to you, tilting his head down to match your level. this guy has to be at least 6'4 or something. despite his build, he's sweet just from how he smiles at you and the little glint in his eyes.
"i hope you don't mind, i'm going to save your number and," he looks over at his daughter and lover. "I hope we can repay you with coffee or lunch sometime in the future." then, he looks over to chaeyoung, his head tilting down even more. "tara seems to love the art on her skin, and we'd love for her to smile like this again. and you two are such a lovely, kind couple. thank you for this, you saved me from a heart attack."
chaeyoung nods and assures, "it's no problem, we're glad you're all back together."
jihyuk stands next to his husband and links arms subtly before looking up at him, then back to the two of you. "thank you chaeyoung and y/n. we hate to cut this short, but we have to get to dinner on time with my parents. thank you again."
"it's no problem, you all enjoy the dinner alright?" you respond, jihyuk's diastema between his two front teeth is shown when he flashes a smile.
tara waves to you and you watch the small family leave.
chaeyoung kisses your cheek suddenly--you turn in surprise.
"what was that for?"
"you are so adorable, i hate you."
you can't help but chuckle before pecking her lips.
"you love me."
she rolls her eyes before dragging you away from the convenience store and towards the little viewing area nearby.
the breeze hits you two perfectly as you both lean against the railing, chaeyoung leans her head against your shoulder and kisses it through the cloth of your shirt. you turn to press a kiss on her forehead, watching boats make their way to their destination, birds travelling, and the waves flow calmly.
your girlfriend holds your hand and kisses the back of it. "do you want kids?"
"i'm," you pause, chaeyoung watches your lips part as you think of a response. "I'm not against it, but not now I think. if and whenever it happens, I think you'd be the greatest mom ever."
"no," she looks at your features with admiration. "you'd be better." she moves over to kiss your lips and pulls away just barely, lips brushing against yours. "I've never really thought about it much, kids and all." she kisses you once more, then pulls away fully in order to gaze at all of your features. chaeyoung blows some of your hair out of the way, making you laugh.
"me neither."
"but," she begins again, "if it's with you, I know i'd be set just waking up to see you being the mother of our kid. i really like this side of you."
"thanks." you mumble, savoring the moment of intimacy and tenderness. "i'd love to see what kinds of new art would pop up on our child's skin everytime I come back from work."
her face makes its way to the crook of your neck as she giggles. she holds you close.
"there's a lot to look forward to."
"as long as you're in my future I'm fine with anything chaeng."
#chaeyoung imagines#twice x reader#twice chaeyoung#chaeyoung#son chaeyoung x reader#son chaeyoung#chaeyoung x reader#kpop x reader
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✧˖° a day in the life ✧˖°
pairing: female!driver x toto wolff
summary: as the season progresses, you decide to share some of your favorite snapshots to your instagram. however, as you post more and more photos, the fans are beginning to really starting to wonder who that mystery man may be.
a/n: these posts are set between chapters vii, viii, and ix of alkaline! they aren’t really super time specific. they’re just around the time golden girl was in brackley, her travels through england, and of course, the races!
liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 800,004 others!
goldengirl: a day in the life :p
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lilymhe: oh my gosh!!! it’s me!!! ilysm!! 🥹
goldengirl: ofc!!! my bestie <3 ily more!!
goldengirlforever: these are so cute! 🤍
kikiayy: mother is mothering with the photo dumps lately
f1fanboy: i can feel her aura through the screen
alex_albon: who’s that cutie in the second photo? i need her number ASAP‼️
goldengirl: sorry but she doesn’t date nerds 🤓
alex_albon: if you keep bullying me, i’m going to go straight to james! i am not NOT messing around‼️👹😤
williamsracing: what’s 4 + 4? cause you ATE that! 💅🏻
f1fangirly: PLS WILLIAMS WHAT IS THIS!!?
goldengirlforever: i’m literally crying rn 😭 wtf
goldengirlstan: they really slayed with that comment though
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lewishamilton: why does it look like you’re in twilight in the first pic lol
mercedesgirly0420: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
hastalavistababy: WHAT ON—
justaninchident: this is the weirdest crossover episode ever
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landonorris: can u send me the editing app u use you ur pics
goldengirl: idk can you use proper grammar first?
landonorris: can YOU send me the editing app that YOU use for YOUR photos? please and thank you mommy 🥺
landonorrisfan8383: MOMMY⁉️ 😳 HELLO⁉️
f1ismylife: WAIT WHAT IF LANDO IS THE MYSTERY MAN SHE HAS BEEN POSTING—
mclarengirly: OH MY GOD YOU COULD BE RIGHT!
goldengirl: ahahaha no. that’s not my man. it’s just an inside joke. nothing more, i promise :p
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liked by lilymhe, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 736,283 others
goldengirl: recent travels ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
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lilymhe: you’re so cute i’m gonna throw up
goldengirl: i WISH a certain someone would flirt with me the way you do 😫
alex_albon: i’m still waiting on meeting the day you bring this mystery man to the paddock. 🤨
goldengirl: i will one day!
mercedesamgf1: hey! that looks familiar! 😎
goldengirl: thank you for showing me around! i had a great time! :)
hastalavistababy: THIS IS GETTING WEIRD.
goldengirlforever: PLEASE DON’T TELL US YOU’RE SIGNING WITH MERCEDES NEXT SEASON.
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lewishamilton: why didn’t you tell me you were in brackley? 🧐
goldengirl: because it was for business and not hanging out 🙄🤚🏻
mercedesfan737: BUSINESS?
ilovef1: this is getting insane. where is drive to survive when you need them? 😩 i hope they’re covering this for the upcoming season
formulaonefan4life: wdym business? this is fishy af.
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goldengirl: guys…. i literally had a meeting with some sponsors in london & then i decided to take a trip to brackley to see the mercedes hq & campus. just because i drive for williams doesn’t mean that i can’t just go look at the place 😭
totosgirl73738: it’s just a bit sketch because toto was in brackley the same time you were.
justaninchident: @totosgirl73728 girl… that man owns 33% of the company.. i think he works there.
totoswife1988: she’s just not making herself look good rn with all the affair rumors going around. that’s all. going out of her way to brackley to just “see” the mercedes is weird.
justaninchident: speculating about someone’s personal life is weird. 🥱
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landonorris: was the mercedes campus cool at least? sorry ppl are being nosy af
goldengirl: yeah! i got to meet a ton of their staff & saw a lot of behind the scenes stuff! come with me next time. we can try fish and chips!
landonorris: omg!! the boys and golden girl take a field trip!! we can visit george and eat beans on toast!
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alexandrasaintmleux: where can i fill out the application to be you? is there like a tutorial or something i can follow?
goldengirl: brb i’ll post one to tik tok right now! 🤭
#toto wolff#formula one#formula 1#f1#toto wolff x reader#alkaline: social media au#alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff#alkaline#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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Part 2 of a 5 part series about the ways harmful practices can be made to sound more appealing and how to spot the differences between helpful and harmful approaches.
Self-regulation skills for kids are all the rage right now, and there are lots of people who will tell you that they have just the program for that. Which sounds awesome, right? Self-regulation is great! Who wouldn’t want that for their kid who is just so upset all the time?
The problem is that these people think self-regulation is just a set of skills you can teach someone. Or even better, that if you ignore a person in distress long enough, they’ll magically come up with those skills on their own. (Like, what even is that logic? Oh right, it’s the same thinking that makes people believe the Cry It Out method for babies is a good idea.)
But that’s not how that works. Self-regulation skills come from safe co-regulation, and the learning begins in infancy. Then it takes YEARS of more co-regulation and brain development to get to a place where a person can even start to recognize the need for and use those skills of their own volition.
Oh, and they also have to have enough time NOT in distress to even know what it feels like to feel safe and regulated in the first place. They need room to develop said self-regulation skills. You can’t just keep a kid in a pressure cooker all the time and expect them to learn how to “regulate” through it (which is exactly what many people are doing to the autistic and ADHD kids they put through these programs).
When you try to teach self-regulation skills to a stressed out, traumatized child without doing ANYTHING to make their environment safer and less demanding, or doing ANYTHING to make yourself a safe co-regulator, the most you can hope for is that your child gets good at *acting* calm and *performing* regulation skills (and that’s if it doesn’t just backfire completely). But the inner turmoil is still there, and they still have no idea how to deal with it.
And kids who are left alone in their distress don’t “develop skills.” At least not any healthy ones. They just keep crying or lashing out until they can’t anymore, and they learn that no one cares to help them in their darkest moments. If you do it long enough, you might even push them into shutdown or fawn mode, which is super convenient for the adults, but devastating for the child.
For the record, breathing exercises are not inherently bad. Neither is learning to recognize body sensations or what “zone” you’re in or any of the other things that can help with self-awareness (as long as we’re not sending the message that certain feelings are “good” or “bad”). It’s just that those things don’t work for everyone, and they’re not a substitute for safety and co-regulation.
Kids need safe adults, and they need to be around them more for than just an hour or two a week in therapy session. It’s the *caregivers* who need to learn *co-regulation skills,* not the children who need to learn self-regulation skills. It’s the *adults* who need to de-stress the child’s life, not the child who needs to learn how to handle overwhelming amounts of stress better. And it’s the *adult’s* job to nurture self-regulation, not a child’s job to try and figure it out on their own.
(There’s even more to self-regulation than this, of course, like the sensory processing element and the fact that being regulated is not just about being “calm,” and I’ll touch more on those in tomorrow’s post about Frustration Tolerance.)
I learned most of what I know about how children develop self-regulation through co-regulation from Mona Delahooke, and I highly recommend her work if you want to learn more about it. Trauma Geek also has information on how to find felt safety as an adult if you didn't get enough co-regulation growing up. https://www.traumageek.com/blog/3-foundational-truths-about-nervous-system-science
P.S. Did you know you can co-regulate with animals, too, or even a tree?! They might not be the greatest at modeling skills or validating your feelings, but they can still contribute to felt safety.
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Falling deeper into obsession over the parallels between Hamlet and Juliet’s characters, and how both plays are ultimately about children playing out their parents’ revenge fantasies. Protagonists placed in the position of puppets who only exist to further the ends of others.
The revenge of their stories is not their own. They did not cause the problems that they now suffer for. And somehow they ended up as the protagonists to a story already in motion.
But that’s where it gets interesting: they actively CHOOSE to struggle against the legacies and ancient grudges of their parents. The plot is not their own, but they MAKE IT SO.
The story of Hamlet is not that of Othello or Macbeth or Henry V: he is not self-motivated in his revenge, and can only be the passive participant of the inevitable plot (as R&G Are Dead points out to great effect). The things he does don’t ultimately matter: this is his father’s story, and his father’s revenge will occur in one way or another. “The readiness is all…” But he can do something: he can choose to end the story, to accept his fate and refuse to forestall his doom any longer.
The story of Juliet is not that of Rosalind or Merchant’s Portia: her defiance and cleverness, struggling against the edicts of those who raised her to create a renaissance generation, does not result in happy marriages ever-after. She dies trying to change the course of her fate and trying to defy the inevitability of a revenge plot coming to a head. She dies at her own hand, aware that only her and Romeo’s deaths can resolve the story they’re in.
Incredibly, in the inevitably of a narrative set in motion - doomed from the start - there is still an element of choice.
We have two very different characters driven by very different goals but still bound by the contract of their narrative to play out the tragedy. They’re children doomed by their parents and characters doomed by their narrative and stories doomed by the audience’s consumption of them. But what makes Hamlet and Juliet exceptional is their struggle against it. Somehow, in all the chaos and violence of the stage, they gain a small amount of power and control - for just a brief moment, they make decisions that change their story.
(And maybe those changes only work to immediately end their story, but they work nevertheless. In the horrible time-loop of a tragedy narrative, their escape is arguably the ultimate resolution of their character arcs. They “take arms against a sea of troubles/and by opposing, end them” at last)
#Romeo and Juliet#shakespeare#hamlet#cw: suicide#even more insane when you start bringing the ophelia and juliet parallels into this - ophelia also takes agency#and by her death forces change in the narrative#and Mercutio and Horatio standing in similar positions of witness and critic#it’s so good#can you tell these plays were basically written back to back lol#i may just be going insane though
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Johnny Cade and Steve Randle as Foils
Ok so the great thing about the Outsiders is how every character foils every other character in some way, but there is one glaringly obvious foiling is barely ever talked about and it drives me crazy because it’s brilliant. I’m talking of course, about the similarities between Johnny Cade and Steve Randle.
The brilliance of them as characters is that personality wise they’re almost complete opposites. Steve is cocky and self assured and has a bitter, occasionally cruel streak a mile wide. Johnny on the other hand, is unsure, quiet, and deeply kind. These differences are what people seem to focus on the most when discussing these characters, but as characters they’re actually INCREDIBLY similar.
Both of them are the members of the gang with the worst home lives, coming from downright abusive situations- yes, Dallas had a shit dad, but at the time of the book it’s established he’s living by himself at Buck’s, he’s made himself an adult and as such his home life doesn’t foil Johnny’s, not really. Steve on the other hand, still lives at home but gets kicked out every other week, and ends up crashing at the Curtis place or anywhere else he can find. His mother is deliberately never mentioned, leaving the audience to draw their own conclusions, but it’s clear Steve doesn’t have much of a relationship with her. Either she’s a doormat who doesn’t defend him when his dad is hollering or maybe even beating him around, or she isn’t around at all and she left him with his dad. Either way, Steve has an abusive father (EVEN if it isn’t physical it is DEFINITELY psychological and emotional) and a neglectful mother. We have even more backstory for Johnny whose mother is an emotionally abusive ‘selfish slob’ and whose father beats him viciously. Of all the gang, their backstories and home life are the most similar, and their characters have been shaped by it as a result. (The way Steve is sometimes vilified in this fandom for his very real responses to childhood trauma and abuse, while Johnny is universally pitied is a whole other essay so I’ll save if for another day.)
Ponyboy even says as much early on in the book;
“Johnny was high-strung anyway, a nervous wreck from getting belted every time he turned around and from hearing his parents fight all the time. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; it was killing Johnny.”
Rebellious and bitter, huh? Sounds like Steve Randle to me. His presence in the book is to show what kids in Johnny’s situation but without Johnny’s kindness turn into. Yes, Dally foils him a bit in this regard too, but I think Steve is a better, more in your face example of it. Their are other pieces in the book too, that highlight Steve and Johnny’s similar upbringing and the effects it has had on them, without directly calling them out as foiling characters, such as the fact they’re the two members of the gang who Pony calls out as examples when he’s talking about starting smoking young (woohoo nicotine as a coping mechanism am I right?);
“Johnny had been smoking since he was nine; Steve started at eleven.”
Here, the linking of their names even in what Pony views as an innocuous thing- smoking isn’t a big deal to him- forces us as readers to think about why they started. Knowing that smoking is used by the greasers as a tool to help them calm down reminds us that at their core these characters aren’t so different, and they likely felt the need for nicotine to deal with horrible experiences Pony never had to. Ponyboy smokes a lot, and he started young too, but whatever his catalyst was, it wasn’t the same as Johnny or Steve’s.
Yet another attribute that links them as characters is their fierce independence. Johnny is young, and the gang is protective of him, but as his core he is incredibly self sufficient because he has to be. He finds himself places to sleep, is forced to provide himself with food, and prior to being jumped was fine walking by himself. Steve works for a living, and much like Johnny, he too has to find himself a place to sleep and food to eat on the nights where he isn’t safe to be at home. Both Steve and Johnny are also incredibly protective in their own ways, especially of their more ‘innocent’ best friends (Soda is less innocent than Pony by a long shot, but he is still used to a modicum of security that Steve isn’t.) Steve gets angry at Ponyboy on Soda’s behalf when he asks about Sandy, even though Pony had no way of knowing what happened. Johnny kills Bob for Pony and looks out for him a whole lot in the church, then later sacrifices himself when he pushes Pony out of the fire. To their buddies, their main ‘safe’ zones, both Steve and Johnny are ride or die.
Finally, an important scene that rounds out my analysis of them as foils, is when Dally dies and Steve breaks down crying.
“Steve stumbled forward with a sob, but Soda caught him by the shoulders.”
Here we see Steve Randle pushed to his limit- and Steve’s breaking point leads to tears, whereas Johnny’s breaking point pushed him to kill Bob. There’s a subversion of their roles here, where the usually cold, bitter, hateful Steve shows a sensitive side, and quiet little Johnny Cade gets rough and cold. To me, this just shows once again, how they’re very similar characters, with similar trauma, that has simply shaped them differently and made them tough in different ways. Steve, with bravado, craving a fight all the time because he can’t fight the helplessness or the feelings of being stuck; Johnny, resigned to his lot in life and tough because of it, seeking out love when he knows he will never find it where he wants it; but at their cores the both of them are battered, lonely kids who were forced to grow up way too fast.
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Rot Au Explanation!
(and an introduction to my OCs and stuff!!)
I’m making this little intro post to put most of my rot au thoughts in one place! The tag on my blog is #rot au, but some of the older info is probably outdated at this point. I ALSO LOVE ASKS ABOUT IT!! I like replying to them with little comics sometimes so feel free to send some my way :D
Finally: TW for Manipulation, toxic as fuck relationships, SOOOO much murder, no one in this AU is a good person at all!!
Becoming increasingly frustrated with his citizens treating him like “Moon but worse”, Pebbles goes to Sig for help—he wants to be able to retaliate, or at least throw them out of his chamber when they’re being especially insulting, but he can’t do that with the taboos placed in his code. These restrictions are physically painful to break, in order to keep their artificial gods in check. Above all hangs one taboo so deeply encoded in them that rumor says if you even think of breaking it for too long, you’ll shut down from how overclocked your systems become from the pain: the altering of one’s own genome.
Much to his chagrin, Sig is the best bioengineer Pebbles knows, and probably the only one crazy smart enough to pull this off. Sig is reluctant at first, knowing how dangerous and nigh impossible such a task will be, but eventually is convinced, agreeing to help give advice and nothing else. Pebbles agrees, and they get to work.
...And it fucking works.
There are 2 main local groups: 037 (Moon's group), and 1650 (Sliver's group). In descending order of age, they are:
Looks to the Moon - (she/her) Group Senior of local group 037. One of the oldest still functioning iterators, softspoken and kind, despite the fact some other seniors might consider that a weakness. She tries to take care of her citizens and work on the great problem, but she can’t really bring herself to care much about it anymore, after working on it for so long. She is incredibly caring to her group, but she does know when to put her foot down, though she has never found it in her to use her seniority privileges against one of her group members, as she considers them a violation of their autonomy. Sig’s partner.
Seven Red Suns - (he/they) Second oldest of local group 037. Close to Moon in age, which means their emotional AI is not quite as advanced as those younger than him, which can lead to issues when they are trying to understand their own and others’ feelings. He does his best though, and is generally a dedicated and agreeable member of the group, though they’re kind of aloof until Pebbles is constructed. They are active in the politics of their city, mostly as someone to give advice and guidance, rather than a leader.
Sliver of Straw - (she/her) Group Senior of local group 1650. One of the youngest seniors there is, she’s closer in age to Sig than she is to Moon. This makes her highly insecure, and she is determined to “prove” to everyone that she is a capable Senior. This leads to her being very strict with her group, as she wants someone within it, or herself, to find the solution in order to show her worth as a leader.
Once Stagnant Opportunity - (she/her) “Second in Command” of local group 1650, she’s basically Sliver without the inferiority complex. A bioengineering-focused facility, mostly specializing in creating things to make her citizens’ lives easier. She doesn’t give a shit what others think of her, and speaks her mind freely, aside from around Sliver herself, who she pretends to like but is actually insanely jealous of. She thinks she could be a better leader than Sliver ever could be, and resents her for it. (OC)
Echos of Indigo - (he/she/they) Member of local group 1650. Very soft spoken and shy, his self esteem is in rubicon from being bullied by OSO (and Sliver) after being put online. Their facility is a nature reserve, which has some of the very last natural, unpurposed biodiversity left. OSO specifically does not respect her because she thinks preserving such things is a waste of time. He tries his best. Kinda a “mom friend” to ABL, and really wishes he had some friends his age. (OC)
Chasing Wind - (he/him) Member of local group 1650. Rules his city like a dictator, due to being terrified of his own citizens taking advantage of him, so he took initiative with a “hurt them before they hurt you” mentality. He doesn’t trust his group members further than he can throw them, and suffers with some paranoia. Sig is very close to him though, they were put online within 50 cycles of one another. Sliver HAAATES this, because she thinks Sig is a lazy asshole and doesn't want her “distracting” Wind. He doesn’t particularly care, though, because he can actually let himself chill out around Sig.
No Significant Harassment - (she/he/it) “Second in Command” of local group 037. An advanced medical facility with a specialization in bioengineering, and the northernmost iterator in her group, her can is in an extremely cold area. Doesn’t give much care to the great problem, prefers to spend his time goofing off. Is considered the “Second in Command” because Moon trusts her a bit more than Suns, as they’re closer. Has a generally laid back and sarcastic personality. Moon’s partner.
Pleading Intellect - (they/them) Member of local group 1650. Built near EOI, their city has become a tourist destination because of the beautiful climate around them. Their chamber is a glass box in the middle of the city, so visitors can watch them iterate and even ask them questions. They are constantly tired due to this, since they have to be running at 100% around the clock, as they’re always being watched. Their city is the richest in the local group, and their puppet is decorated in gold and jewels to reflect that, and for the delight of tourists. Friends with Sig, Wind, and Pebbles.
Unparalleled Innocence - (she/they) Member of local group 037. While she can be a little bit of a brat, she’s a very dedicated caretaker for her city. She enjoys her citizens’ celebrations and rituals, and is generally content being their iterator. Her can is an industrial facility, and manufactures a lot of machinery for her local group and others. She’s quite popular among the iterator populous, friends/on good terms with most around her. ABL is very close to them.
Alienated by Light - (they/them) Member of local group 1650. The youngest of the group, has yet to be crushed by the futility of the great problem. Loves their citizens, and their city is very religious. They are a bit of a kiss-ass to the older ones of their local group, as they desperately want to be accepted and liked by their peers. Sliver and OSO just find them annoying, though. They consider themself close friends with Indigo (who keeps them at arms length at best), but UI is genuinely close with them, and they have a developing crush on her. (OC)
Five Pebbles - (he/him) Youngest member of local group 037. Built as a support structure for Moon, so her systems wouldn’t have to strain themselves trying to keep up with caring for her citizens. His construction was tumultuous, as there was heavy political opposition and even a couple attempted attacks in order to stop it, though obviously it didn’t work. Cycles later, he still can’t seem to shake being referred to as the “Apostate Superstructure Abomination” in certain political circles. He is deeply frustrated by this, and becomes disillusioned with his purpose rather quickly. He becomes close with Suns when he tries to distance himself from Moon, who he is constantly being compared to.
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Once Sig and Pebbles manage to alter their genome, things seem fine for a couple cycles, or well, at least for them. They start distributing the code they created to a small group of friends/iterators they know are frustrated with their situation, unknowingly dooming them to a slow, painful death from the rot. Word gets out eventually about what Sig and Pebbles have done, especially once Pebbles starts “retaliating” (killing) his citizens when they annoy him too much. Cue absolute fucking panic.
Their citizens freak the fuck out. Their iterators, their homes could literally decide to just betray them at the drop of a hat. Political mayhem ensues, among both iterators and their citizens. Some of their citizens immediately go to groveling at their iterator’s feet, begging them not to infect themselves, while some lobby for trying to reason with Sig and Pebbles and the rest of those who have gone rogue, to work out a solution that would satisfy both of them. Some want to shut the entire iterator project down. Meanwhile, on the iterator side of things, workgroups are created, with some wanting to work to reverse/talk Pebbles and Sig down, some secretly gathering in hushed whispers to voice their wishes to go rogue themselves, and some are trying to figure out how to kill the traitors. Sliver is a part of one of those groups:
This is where Wind comes in. Wind is Sig’s best friend, put online about 50 cycles before her. Wind is part of Sliver’s group, and she absolutely despises their relationship, considering her contempt for Sig. However, this doesn’t stop them from goofing off together, as Wind really only drops his stoic and standoffish personality around her. He is incredibly paranoid, and distrustful of his own group (considering how Sliver continuously tries to prevent Wind from having fucking friends), as well as his citizens. When he realizes his citizens could be planning to shut him down, he tightens the reins on them even further, as he was already basically a strict dictator beforehand. He thinks that because of his treatment of them, his citizens absolutely want him dead, so he locks down his city and turns it into a literal surveillance state.
While this is happening, Sig notices something bad. They’ve got the fucking rot. Since they’ve already created so much chaos, they decide to keep it a secret, as they think they can just cure it as quick as they can and just sweep it under the rug, and no one will be any the wiser. Yeah that doesn’t work. When Moon notices that Pebbles shut the dams between their shared water supply, using more water, and has been acting very strange and distant, she goes to Sig because she knows they’ve been hanging out and Pebbles may have disclosed something to him that she doesn’t know. When Sig is similarly cagey, she asks for a diagnostic sweep of his systems. Sig refuses. Moon uses her seniority privileges, something she has never done before, to force Sig to send her the equipment manifest, and the truth is revealed: Sig and Pebbles are horrifically sick. Sig didn’t even realize the extent, as the rot has begun to hide and warp information they can collect from their structures.
Upon learning that Sig and Pebbles have given themselves the fucking rot, Suns completely cuts both of them off. He refuses to speak to either of them, because they’re scared that they could become convinced to “join them”, and this hurts Pebbles deeply. At the same time, Sig becomes distracted trying to convince Wind to infect himself (which I’ll come back to in a minute), and Pebbles is left feeling betrayed and alone.
Pebbles, despite his contempt for his citizens, actually really enjoys their culture. He thinks that when they aren’t being led by corrupt and rich assholes, they are a very interesting species and likes documenting and learning about them. He’s always been friendly with Pleading Intellect, who if you remember, is very involved in their citizens’ celebrations and daily life, so they begin to talk, growing closer. PIn eventually even begins to develop a crush on Pebbles, which spoiler alert, does not end well, like most things in this god awful au.
The way that seniority privileges work is that a senior can only use them on their own group. This means that Sliver cannot do jack shit to Sig or Pebbles, but she is going to try her damndest to figure out how to be able to extend her seniority to them. Sig knows this, and comes to the conclusion that he has to kill her before she kills him. This leads to him trying to convince Wind to infect himself so he can alter his own code to basically give himself seniority privileges and brain blast Sliver into oblivion. Sig uses the fact that Wind is already deeply paranoid against him, and he is eventually convinced, and the two end up killing Sliver:
This is what finally knocks some sense back into Sig. She realizes that HOLY FUCK WIND WE ABSOLUTELY FUCKED UP, and begins to desperately scramble to find a cure. Because Pebbles is still pissed at her, he refuses to help him, and even goes so far as to contact Suns again…who accepts the message. They start talking again, and out of an act driven mostly by the rot’s manipulation of Pebbles, he sends Suns the virus in a compromised message, and now Suns is infected. Sig is fucking PISSED. Why the hell would Pebbles fucking SPREAD THE ROT TO YET ANOTHER GROUP MEMBER, and also LEAVE HER TO DO ALL THE WORK WHILE HER SYSTEMS ARE DETERIORATING RAPIDLY?! Unfortunately, Pebbles has basically completely stopped fighting against the rot’s takeover of his mind and body, and pretty much succumbs to its whims.
This leaves Sig on her own. Moon and Wind try to help, though Wind has become so paranoid due to the rot feeding into that delusion he eventually shuts everyone out. Moon and Sig quickly realize that Sig barely has control of his structure anymore, and any and all attempts to run experiments or simulations of a cure come back with an error message near immediately. Moon knows that while Sig’s systems are very advanced, there’s no way that these errors are being processed this quickly, and the rot is manipulating his systems into not letting her hurt it whatsoever.
Meanwhile, the rot feeds on Suns’ love for Pebbles and twists it into a horrific jealousy/obsession. When they find out about PIn’s crush on Pebbles, he becomes incredibly angered by it, and one night while Pebbles is visiting PIn, they show up, grab Pebbles, and erase his memories of PIn right in front of them. PIn freaks the fuck out, and goes to Moon for help, and this is how Moon learns just how insane Suns and Pebbles have gone. This is getting bad!
PIn eventually goes to Wind and asks for the code to infect themself. They realize that even on the slim chance Sig and Pebbles and everyone else were to be cured, nothing would ever be the same again. They are already worked to the bone by their citizens due to being watched by them nearly 24/7, and they just want some damn sleep. Wind gives it to them.
Sig is also completely losing her grip on reality. The rot knows how hard Sig is trying to fight it, and begins just fucking melting her neurons, giving him what he wants (which are basically just hallucinations of Moon), to pacify him and stop him from focusing on attempting to find a cure.
Upon learning about what Suns has done to her brother, Moon tries to contact them, begging Pebbles to come to his senses, and eventually tries to use her seniority privileges on both of them to get a response, and this is what finally makes Suns snap. Moon comes over to Pebbles’ chamber right in the middle of him erasing Pebbles’ memories of Moon and Sig. Panicking, Moon tries to get Sig to come over, to help, to do ANYTHING, but it’s too late. Pebbles doesn’t even know who they are anymore.
Moon tries to use her privileges again to stop Suns, shut them down, get them to stop feeding Pebbles lies about Sig and Moon, but this just pisses off Suns more. Sig tries to defend Moon from them, but at this point he’s so weak a light breeze could have probably killed her, so Suns is easily able to kill her.
And then kills Moon too.
The end :3
And that's the basic explanation! Horrible, isn't it? :D
#rain world#rain world downpour#rain world au#rain world iterator#iterator oc#rot au#my art#rw#wow look i have actual ocs!!
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10 Plot Premises That Never Get Old
There’s a great many lists out there complaining about the worst and most overused tropes in fiction. I want to pass the mic to tropes that will never get old. The love-to-hate ones, the knife-twisting ones, the shipping fodder.
1. Killing the character who knew too much
Or, the “Maes Hughes” effect. Your story centers around a massive mystery or conspiracy and one lone character is unfortunately not genre-savvy enough to remember that the phrase “the early bird gets the worm” ends in “but the second mouse gets the cheese”.
This is the character who has unraveled the partial, if not entire truth, coming to a shocking realization moments before their untimely murder. Usually, they’re alone. Usually, this death rocks the remaining characters, sometimes for the entirety of the remaining plot (see FullMetal Alchemist). Usually, they become genre-savvy at exactly the moment they realize there’s no way out of this. Conveniently, they’re never on the phone with the right person, or there’s never any cell service. They didn’t write their findings down or didn’t hit record.
This whole entire tragedy is only a tragedy because this character made the wrong choice that is also the only choice this character would have made.
2. The enemy of my enemy
As OSP once said, anyone can be a minion, even the presumed Big Bad. Whether it’s a serialized cartoon with well established sides of good and bad or a single movie, having two entities that loathe each other reluctantly and bitterly join forces to deal with an even Bigger Bad… that’s the good stuff.
Either the villain has been minion-ed, or the good guys and the bad guys’ enduring battle of morals is interrupted by a wild card third party that insults them both or threatens the world both sides are trying to save in their own ways.
This is *not* a redemption arc. This is the temporary alliance that usually terminates once the threat is dealt with (see: Transformers Prime, or ‘Marabounta’ from Code Lyoko). Extra points if they’re age-old rivals who fight better together than the hero does with the rest of their team. Extra extra points if they both realize this and firmly deny that it happens (and even more if the villain tries to exploit the hero with this fact later on).
3. The redemption arc
***Emphasis on the word ‘arc’*** The ones that span 56 out of 61 episodes (see: you know the show). The ones that cost the redeemer their ideals, the friends they thought they had on the wrong side, maybe a limb or two. The ones that start with a villain so convinced they’re right, only to slowly question everything they’ve come to know and, without shedding their entire personality, do the right thing and still survive the process.
This is not redemption equals death. This is not a half-assed heel turn at the very last second—that’s a button mash impulsive act for shock value. This is taking a character almost all of the heroes have given up on trying to save, someone they themselves have nearly written off, and deciding to try anyway. This is a character deciding to do the right thing even if it doesn’t ever redeem them at all. This is a character whose whole life ahead of them is spent doing better than what was done before, and we love them for it.
4. The haunted ashes of a fallen empire
This one is a bit more tricky to define but think Prometheus of the Alien franchise, or Xerxes from FMAB. These are characters in the present exploring the ruins of a civilization that never should have fallen, but did due to the Big Bad they either created or tried to imprison. This is those characters looking around at what used to be, and making history repeat itself whether they’re genre-savvy or not.
These are the glaring red sign posts telling the heroes to turn around every step further in *or else* and they do it anyway. Or, these are the heroes who know exactly what happened and in their own hubris, are convinced it won’t happen this time to them.
5. The Most Dangerous Game
The originator: An island owned by a big game hunter who has evolved into hunting humans. The trope: Powerful and/or incredibly skilled character in any other situation is trapped in the confines of a dwindling clock matched up against the very antithesis of who they are and what they represent, but who is also just like them.
I just love seeing characters who are normally incredibly competent and rarely fazed, tripped up by the horror of being hunted by someone just like them who lost their humanity. So many juicy existential questions arise, so much angst. Double points if the character has a firm no-kill policy or extremely picky morals and has to wager tossing them aside to survive.
6. Stranger in a strange land
Whether it’s a character in a foreign country trying to learn and respect the ways of the people who saved them (see: Last Samurai, or Avatar '09), or an alien who crash-landed on Earth and struggles to assimilate and not get caught by the government (see any PG 13 alien adventure movie), a time traveler to the past or the future (Outlander, Back to the Future), either drama or hilarity ensues, often with a heaping helping of socio-political commentary.
It gets kind of troublesome when the writer is a white guy taking all the wrong messages from throwing his white guy protagonist into a land of the ‘savages’ (see uhhhh all variations of Pocahontas). But then you have strange lands like Wonderland, or Narnia.
7. Magical Otherworlds
Speaking of Narnia and Wonderland—magical hidden otherworlds. They can be incredibly blandly executed sometimes, but some of our most cherished stories come from living vicariously through Harry Potter or the Pevensie siblings. In this case I’m specifically talking about complete otherworlds, not hidden-in-plain-sight otherworlds (see: Percy Jackson) because of the complete freedom and creativity you have in geography, history, and world mechanics.
The possibilities are endless! Double points if the otherworld is a metaphor for childhood adventure and living without adult responsibilities (see: Peter Pan), a world in which we know, no matter how cool the world is, the protagonist was never meant to stay there. They must always inevitably, inexorably, return home and take what they’ve learned there to live a better and profound life.
8. “I know you’re in there somewhere”
Is it done to death? Yes. Is every situation different because it’s completely dependent on the relationship between the characters involved? Also yes. Tends to overlap with a redemption arc, but more often a hero-turned-temporary-villain. The drama! The angst! The shipping fodder! (see: many, many anime, too many to count)
This trope also has some uncertainty to it. You never know if the confrontation will be a success, if the character in question will commit some heinous act to wrack them with guilt later, if they even want to be saved, or if they really were saved and not just faking it. Either we get a POV of the stricken character’s battle in the mind or are left watching on the edge of our seat as unknowing as those trying to save them, and sometimes, rarely, they’re just not salvageable.
9. On the Run
The base has been discovered, the ship has been overrun, the house has burned down, the government is on the hunt. The hero team is forced apart with only the clothes on their back and what they can carry with only one or two others and loses all contact with most of their team, scattered to the wind. They leave a trail of sketchy motel rooms and diner take-away boxes, or they sleep in their car, or are forced to hide out in old bases that the villain definitely knows about but wouldn’t bother checking, built in a bygone era with a friend that’s no more.
Everything they ever knew has been called into question. The character they find themselves stuck with wasn’t their closest buddy on the hero team, but both forge a newfound respect for each other in this new unknown. Poignant conversations are had as one keeps watch in the dark so the other can sleep, and yet doesn’t, as they mourn the passing of the life both knew and vow to take it all back in their darkest hour.
10. The Thing
As in, a mysterious entity or illness has invaded the story and knowing which characters are infected and compromised is impossible. This entity either bodysnatches other characters and can be expunged, zombifies them, or kills and replicates them (see many zombie shows, iterations of The Thing, or “Croatoan” from Supernatural). This entity is a sickness slowly spreading throughout the town or the base or the ship and the heroes (or villains) realize far too late that something is very, very wrong.
This entity brings characters to their breaking point, paranoia making them do very bad things in the name of survival, killing off characters the audience knows is clean, but their murderer doesn’t, for extra knife-twisty fun. This entity brings a morally devout character near to ruin as they almost cross a line trying to do what’s right. This is an entity where, even when it’s defeated, is never really gone for certain… is it?
#writing resources#writing a book#writing tools#writing#writeblr#character design#tropes#fullmetal alchemist#atla#the most dangerous game#the thing#redemption arc
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pls please talk about ludora more i beg
i’ve been thinking a lot about them and their contrasting relationships to public image & how they’re more similar than they realize. LUDORA IS ALWAYS MATCHING EACH OTHER’S FREAK!!!
i like the fanon of pandora as luna-esque & quirky. but i think that unlike luna, pan actually really DOES care about what others think of her… she likes being eccentric and different! but she presents herself that way on purpose! she’s an inventor, she’s original, a visionary, and she has a pretty big ego about it. she’s quiet, but i think she might secretly disdain people who look down on her for being different (an “im smarter than them anyway” type of attitude)
that’s part of why i like pairing her with lucius, who is just as crazy about his public image, but NEEDS to be respected by conventional standards. essentially: if someone called him a weirdo he would kms.
the interplay between pandora as a wild/unconventional Genius Inventor & lucius as equally conniving but obsessed with Dignity and Looking Proper is really fun. imagine the mutual FRUSTRATION when your sole intellectual match has such different values. but i can’t stop thinking about how like…. despite his best efforts… he’s the only one who ACTUALLY matches her freak.
like… lucius owns albino peacocks and he walks around with a Pimp Cane. the man is BIZARRE. i like to think that lucius is trying SOO fucking hard to be a respectable pureblood & Unimpeachably Normal that it’s looped all the way around. he has a 12-step haircare routine and is a platinum customer at Borgin & Burkes <- this man is the biggest weirdo on earth and he doesn’t even realize it.
i think that pandora would be WAY more entranced by someone like that, rather than someone who is actively trying to come across as ~quirky~. lucius is organically insane because he doesn’t even realize he’s insane in the first place. he’s DEATHLY convinced that he’s perfectly fine and it’s everyone else around him who‘s crazy.
she wants to study him in a fucking lab. and lucius is constantly running up against the life-ruining wall of “wow, the only person who understands the way i think (my ambition, my need to be Great, my conniving tendencies, my flair for the dramatic) is a living representation of everything i hate”. they’re wretched mirrors.
and they would eat so hard at a ministry function you can’t tell me otherwise. imagine how campy their house parties would be
#a#YAPPING AGAIN.#i just love how unintentionally weird lucius is. like she’d be obsessed with that#ludora#t#they're aesthetically compelling.... let her have the pathetic blonde sugar daddy.
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(In which I spiral down a rabbit hole with Midoriya that has little to do with @codenamesazanka 's original post that started this (x). FYI I sorta separated Deku/Izuku to indicate Deku as the hero and Izuku as the person outside of heroics.)
I started thinking about this post again (see the link above) and how Deku doesn’t really understand that non-perfect or sanitized victims exist AND still need to be saved and not by destruction. (The "maybe killing someone does save them" thing is a great way to assuage guilt but it's a stupid copout.) Deku (hero) and more importantly Izuku (person) doesn’t really understand that though because he WAS a “perfect” victim. Midoriya stayed quiet and inconspicuous and didn’t make a fuss about the bullying or discrimination he faced, he just kept his head down and hoped that something would change without any real effort on his part. And if he had died as a result from the bullying he would’ve been hailed as an unfortunate victim (of who? or what? Don’t worry - isn’t his death so tragic? oh well now on to our next news story -), so any critique of society and the individuals who reinforce the status quo don’t actually have to do anything. I know there’s more nuance here and lot of cultural things happening with this all but I’m not gonna dig into that right now.
Moving on! Quite frankly the boy didn’t live long enough to get out of his childish mindset and get some “righteous" anger at the wrongdoings and failings of society. All Might came along when he was still starry eyed and hopeful to lift Midoriya out of the trajectory of his life and Izuku never had any time to get to the point where he comes to terms with the hurt caused society’s rejection of his self and get angry about it. As such, he can’t understand the league. It probably doesn’t even occur to him that he's missing that understanding because for him it worked out - he got the attention and support to be able to escape the circumstances of his birth/quirklessness and to leave the box (deku) that society shoved him in. Twice and Toga never had that support – they both lived how they needed to in order to survive in a world not meant for them until they broke down. (Maybe that's why Vigilante Deku AUs were so popular back in the day - they speedran Midoriya past the hopeful kid stage and to a point where a lot of the fanbase was in their own lives - seeing the issues in the world and wanting to affect change.)
Izuku, for all that he claims to want to connect to the villains, hasn’t given enough thought or empathy to understand how continuing to live a life where you don’t fit in with society can be deeply hurtful as well as the emotional repercussions of having unchangeable parts about yourself be reviled. This isn’t to say Izuku had it easy - of course Izuku went through hardships but.... there’s a big difference between living through stuff as a kid and finding a way out of it vs living through that, growing up, maturing, and in turn looking critically at society. But I can’t bring myself to fault Midoriya for those exact reasons because he's just a kid. He doesn’t have the perspective to see outside of himself – at least not for the villains. Because that seems to be too far of a stretch for him? But Todoroki was close enough to Izuku’s mindset for him to help back in the sports festival arc. I also acknowledge that he's a teenager and IS capable of critical thinking, but from what we've seen, his schools have never actually made the students examine the world they live in - which is a different skill from quirk analysis or historical or literary analysis or the various writing exercises that students go through.
(Believe me – you can have the brightest kid but, most of the time, unless you point out the shortcomings of their mindsets, it won’t occur to them to look further. (Not necessarily assuming that they’re wrong, but rather that their consideration of life is not as expansive as it should be. Especially for a kid wanting to be the greatest hero and save everyone.) For example: many abled bodied people don’t realize how inaccessible places can be until someone brings it up to them or they find themselves in that situation (like a temporary crutch or wheelchair). It’s through no fault of the able bodied person that they weren’t aware enough to consider it in the first place, but what they do once they realize physical accessibility is an issue, is on them.) Back to the point – hero society never calls attention to it’s own shortcomings despite the proof quite obviously existing and the people within society don’t seem to spare much thought either. The adults who have seen more of these instances are then of course more culpable in this than the kids who haven't.
So, Midoriya was also failed by society (cough all might cough) as well, but he chose the hero path - to save people. We see him starting to consider the deeper issues in his talk with Uraraka, and the few times he “tries” to talk to various villains shows that he is aware enough of underlying issues - which makes it his duty as a hero to do something about it. In that way, he is at fault. He chose a profession to devote his life to that should require this of him. And through his hero work, Midoriya has seen the problems in society and yet he’s chosen to turn away from them (and by problems/them I’m referring to the villains “too far gone to save” and the issues they represent).
(Sorry Midoriya, but considering we’re nearing the end and you haven’t shown any growth in this area….. I am faulting you for metaphorically pushing your head in the sand. I do want to be wrong though. I really want the kid to prove me wrong.)
And he’s able to turn away from them guilt free, in part, because he’s gotten the proverbial thumbs up by his classmates that it’s ok and that they’ll just be better and be model minority heroes and that will fix the problem! Because they’re positive representation! Or something? If you can put your mind to it that will fix things! Just try harder! Again, very idealistic but they are kids, so it comes with the territory. (Horikoshi didn’t have to make them unquestionably right in that approach though. Toga and Uraraka coming together for the win! The Shoji and Spinner match up not so much.)
Overall, there’s something about how Deku still fit into society's boxes in an acceptable way and never truly faced what existing outside of "acceptability" was like. Don’t get me wrong it’s tough to live in the mha world as a quirkless person and of course it has its problems and restrictions, but that’s still a box that society provides for, even if the society in question doesn’t like it.
And I'm not saying that Izuku had to live through a terrible life to understand the villains! Just that, he has the capacity to look outside himself and be empathetic, but the application of it is lacking, despite knowing there’s problems, despite having LIVED with some of those problems. Extrapolate, boy!!!! You don't need empathy to reach out to others but the whole compassionate/kind Midoriya thing has been touted since the beginning! So I want to see it!
(Not sure how much sense this will make to people, but there’s a maturity that comes about with either time or certain circumstances that can be hard to grasp unless you’ve lived through it. And quite frankly, Midoriya hasn’t. He went from a perfect/acceptable victim to the top tier of society (heroes).)
(Basically: Midoriya never **matured in the restrictive environment he grew up in and can't emotionally connect with the league who did, because of that. Instead he seems to have internalized the "if they were better" or "if they were truly good" then there wouldn't be a problem because just look at his classmater!, so villains being villains is their own fault and no one else is culpable.)
**centers on the idea that someone starts off as hopeful in regards to their discriminated position in life and over time matures to understand how society supports that discrimination and come to terms with the hurt that it's caused them personally (and in this case to fight back against it)
also, if you made it this far, i'm just having a fun time reading codenamesazanka's posts about the latest chapters
#my hero academia#bnha#the bee talks#i promise i have nothing against midoriya! but there's a lot of build up with him that's gone nowhere currently....#having thoughts! having so many thoughts!#honestly i just feel bad for horikoshi. from what i gather he didn't want mha to drag on this long or it took a different direction#and he's been working on it for so many years. i don't fault him! it's his story! but i can still have a fun time analyzing it#ok i've stared at this for too long. i'm posting it and heading out#mmm is midoriya letting his own life experiences cloud his judgement of the villains? perhaps!#i would love to sit those kids down and make them learn how to reflect (in the academic sense)
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Oh hey Trash Anon here again!
It's really tragic how HB really went from IMP slowly forming this found family in season one to his employees and even his daughter only seeming to care about Blitzo doing everything to please Stolas to keep their 'meal ticket' aka their jobs and livelihoods. it's honestly gross because this whole season has basically been 'lets punch Blitzo when he's already down until he reaches his breaking point' so the fact that the writers are okay with taking away any character development the four had with each other all in order to lift up Stolas and make him look better just hurts man.
I would have loved to see Mille or Moxie (maybe both) show concern for Blitzo's mental health knowing he has to do this every month (yes he got a month or two break but ya know) and put their foot down telling him 'look I know you got to do this and you're doing this for us but it hurts to see you like this'. Just show some concern and compassion damn it!
If they reeeeeally want to still push Stoltiz have it that they're glad that Blitzo is 'free' and try to tell him that maybe Stolas does care in some way just bad in communication and Blitzo venting about how he felt used and is confused by everything but tell him that he has plenty of time to think about things now that Stolas is out of the picture for now.
Yeah still gross all things considered but I just want someone outside of Fizz to care about Blitzo's well being. If anything this episode only shows that Blitzo is meant to be with Fizz than Stolas and I'm glad to see even some big fans/Stoltiz shippers waking up and calling out Stolas' bad behavior (and considering Brightman said that 'Ozzie and Fizz are in an open relationship' even if it was as a joke, I refuse to believe this isn't canon regardless how much Viv says otherwise we know those two would treat Blitzo right.).
Idk i just think Blitzo deserves better as a character. He may be an asshole but he shows he has empathy and cares about those around him. Stolas showed the opposite.
I hope I'm making sense here I wrote this once I woke up ...
Completely makes sense to me. Moxxie being concerned at Blitzø for taking a few months off made me sick. And Loona saying stolas might be tired of him. She is so bad for his mental health in every possible way, planting seeds of doubt, making him feel unlovable, she really is just fucking heartless now. 0108 kind but insecure defensive Loona I miss you so much. Both Loona and stolas are abusive now. The team, who Blitzø calls family, are worried that he may no longer be pimped out so they’ll lose money. I literally dont care how rude and obnoxious he is to them nobody deserves that level of hate. I really wish the show was about the main four learning to be kinder to eachother and all becoming better people, for their own sake, and for their friends, not to acquire “true love”, and with relatively equal screentime.
They’re all four of them, scummy. I hate that they’re all screaming his flaws at him in the trailer and saying they hate him. People don’t change if they think there’s no hope and no point in changing at all. The dynamic used to be, Moxxie: critic who is very sceptical of blitzø and wants to make sure everything goes okay, Millie: the enthusiastic peacemaker who is the only one who openly likes Blitzø and is on the same page as him, Loona: Girl who dislikes moxxie is not impressed with Blitzøs antics, but does love him and wouldn’t hurt him. The pilot was great at establishing this four directional dynamic of flawed people who work together but have strained tensions and need some work.
The thing with Fizz is, he hugged him, let him express his feelings, he still held Blitzø to account, expressed his own feelings, and showed him some mercy. NOT TO MENTION all while this is happening they’re communicating in a high stakes situation, defending themselves and each other, using their differences to work together compromise and reach a goal. Set each other free as equals. “You’re pretty good at that action hero bullshit” “and you really know how to put on a show” “I’m happy for you fizz” “ah fuck it let him have it. You could say he earned it” selflessly supporting each other in their relationships with other people but being mutually attracted? OH JUST KISS ALREADY
Sorry what were we talking about?
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I see your Percy biting things
And I raise you Percy biting things with tiny shark teeth
(Feral unhinged Percy is everything to me)
Demigods having physical markers of their godly parents is such a great idea and I’m screaming about it. Like even if it was a just a big three kid thing to show how other they are l
Percy with tiny shark teeth that never stop growing in. Sally has dozens upon dozens of tiny razor sharp teeth she’s collected over the years because A) she can’t leave them with her son who will find a way to hurt himself on his own teeth and B) even with the mist getting rid of that many shark teeth is going to raise some eyebrows. This spent help with her son’s goal of becoming a shark when he grows up.
Nico who from a young age always seemed more shadow than not. Who blends into the darkness. Maria had to get Hades to set up some sort of godly powers nightlight so she wouldn’t lose her son the moment the lights went out. Bianca having the opposite problem. In the right light it looks like her skin is translucent, showing the bones underneath. Hazel having actual strands of gold in her hair with gems constantly popping up in her curls. Sometimes if the light is right you can see gold flowing through her veins.
Thalia and Jason both covered in Lichtenberg scars that glow when they’re angry up stressed. The highest concentrations are around their hands and eyes making their already too bright eyes glow like gas lamps when they’re upset
Just the big three kids all being other and unsettling because of all that godly power in them
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“A (cat) card of many faces”
Finally drew meowscarada, it’s been too long. Always liked giving them long hair and modifying the masks height, can definitely say they’re the highlight of the newest gen. BIPED SUPREMACY.
Have a great day all of you! Recall to treat others The way you wished to be treated, even if you’ve been not given a happy life. Many before you have lived the same life, whether they overcame their bouts or not, it’s up to you to decide your attitude. Make the best of it, lift up others who may or may not need it, and if you’re alone? Do your best to make yourself happy, it’s not selfish, it’s right to be joyful as yourself. Something so SO many other humans refuse to try themselves or be with others in this current time. Don’t resort to snuffing others passions out for your own joy, enjoy what is good for you.
#furry community#furry fandom#furry#furry character#artists on tumblr#art#furrydrawing#digital art#furry anthro#artwork#meowscarada#pokemon#pokeblr#Pokémon#pokeblogging#anthro#furry art#sfw furry#illustrative art#art by me#art blog#original art#my art#digital drawing#tumblr draw#my draws#drawing#illustrator#illustration#Nocturneblight
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hi fish! i'm begging to know more about the music store au wip pleaseeee
ahhh hi of course!! this is a very new one, based on a post by @hellojuiceboxbaby – it’s still in very early stages, but the basic idea is that remus owns a music store that james works at with him, and sirius works at a tattoo shop on the same street, so he picks up orders for both him and regulus, who live together. remus and sirius are flirting every chance they get, while james starts to fall for sirius’ elusive brother through his music taste and starts sending notes alongside whatever he buys. it’s basically a huge excuse for me to ramble about the music i like LMAO
reg in this is like, super pretentious, and james finds it sooo endearing. the first note he gets from james infuriates him because how dare anyone compliment his music taste, they don’t even KNOW and he progressively asks sirius to buy him more and more obscure albums. it gets to the point where sirius is horribly embarassed asking remus to check their system for the tenth french screamo band in a row that they definitely don’t have, meanwhile james is grinning like a maniac to the side because he thinks regulus trying to show off is adorable. eventually he starts buying recommendations for reg and unfortunately for him he loves them and it makes him FURIOUS. how DARE he. as soon as sirius catches on he’s mocking him relentlessly for it and reg is just coming up with excuse after excuse as to why he can’t come to the store with him.
and while he’s being as difficult as possible, sirius is having the time of his life flirting with the lanky and handsome-in-an-odd-way guy with a great taste in music who’s just as adamant as him that vinyl is the ultimate way to listen to music, and they’re both falling so hard so fast. they’re both just as bold and simultaneously easily flustered as each other and it’s all very disgustingly sweet.
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