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HELPPP for my euphoria x stranger things au should i make steve graduated and a year older than the older hawkins teens like canon or seniors with them 😪😪😪

AND if he's graduated, should i have it as he's still working at family video or in college with mckay and just working part-time with robin🤫

hai guys :)) im trying stuff out hereeeeeeee plz plz plz plz support plz plz plz plz plz 💗💗💗

‎‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎♡  ࣪  ·  𝗇𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼,  𝗆𝗒 ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎𝗀𝗈𝖽, 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 . . 🏹

I'm moving, and since all of my clothes are out anyways, I may as well have a little fun with them.

More photos from the other night ✨ okay but imagine I did this photo shoot at a bus stop instead of at home? Those would be so pretty

I need to do this again sometime soon. All my accessories were already packed when I took these photos.

Posting in AO3 is way too intimidating to me because it's full of such great writing so. I'm just gonna. Leave this here instead of there and run. First chapter of my Inscryption fic:

Lost little fawn

Another flying ant fell as they slammed their palm against it, killing the bug against a nearby tree. They wrinkled their nose and cleaned off the goo from the bug, feeling repulsed by it. “I hate this stupid forest.” They mumbled under their breath, fanning their hands to keep the bugs away. “Botopia didn’t have bugs.” They lamented, and with their next step, their hoove fell into a mud puddle. They groaned in annoyance, taking their hoove out of the wet dirt and shaking it to clean it off momentarily. Botopia didn’t have mud, either. But then again, they hardly belonged there anymore.

With a sigh, they continued walking through the rough path. Their bag felt heavier than ever as they carried it on their back, but leaving it was hardly an option. In a way, they wished that the bag had been heavier. It carried everything they had ever owned, after all.

Their ears perked up and moved at every tiny noise from the forest. A snap of a twig, ruffling of leaves, anything. They felt unsafe in the woodlands and would not let their guard down. Who knew what creature could leap out from the darkness and attack them? They were clumsy enough as is, with those bothersome new hooves and legs to get used to that still made them lose their balance occasionally, even after days of walking. The uneven terrain did not help at all. They didn’t need a beast chasing them on top of that. A grizzly, a wolf, hell, even a stoat could overpower them in that moment —stupid forest and stupid beasts and stupid everything.

They missed the factory. The loose dirt underneath their hooves was nothing like the cold metallic floor they were used to, just like the air filled with the smell of melted materials compared to the damp atmosphere they were in right now, scents of different beasts surrounding them and merging, making the task of figuring out what exactly lurked behind the shadows impossible. They missed the clanking of machines or clogs moving in unison, their ears finding patterns in those familiar sounds they never thought they would sicken for. Instead, now they were enveloped by random critters and cries, their head snapping every once in a while to an unexpected direction just to check they were still safe. Nothing followed a pattern in that disorganised hell. How did nature bloom in such chaos yet refuse to do so in the factory, where everything and everyone had its place? Nonsense. But then again, they weren’t complaining about that. Botopia was much better than those lands, full of disgusting lifeforms. Inferior and frail ones. Imperfect.

Yet, for as much as they missed their home, a subtle pain settled down in their chest. They stopped and looked down at their new legs. P03 had no sense of empathy or care for its people, that much they had realised too late. They scolded themselves yet again. Looking back, volunteering for P03 to test a new card mechanic had been stupid. More than stupid, idiotic. Ridiculous. Nonsensical. Mindless. And many other adjectives of the same meaning. Of course, it had seemed like a bright idea at the time. They were P03’s favourite, were they not? It had taken them in as one of its own robots, despite being fully human. And they had not disappointed. They had learnt from the scrybe of technology. Later on, it taught them, but they had to use other methods initially. Seeing parts of plans, overhearing conversations not meant for them, sneaking glances at code. And each time, they had returned to their beloved scrybe with a solution for its worries. A fixed version of the code P03 had tackled from the wrong angle. A list of vulnerabilities that could arise from the plans it made. P03 was at first angry at them for interfering, jealous even that they could spot things a robot as perfect as itself could not.

But those feelings soon faded, being replaced with pride as the scrybe realised they had no ill intent and only meant to help. To learn from it. P03 saw greatness in them. It told them if they worked hard enough, they could become the best apprentice in the factory. And they did. They worked hard, harder than any machine or living being. They offered to be P03’s lab rat, both when it came to trying out new game mechanics and strategies. So, of course, when the robot requested a volunteer to try out a new game mechanic, a sort of bonus that would let a robot turn every other turn into a beast… Well, they were the first and only ones to present themselves. To test the machine, P03 first had to ensure it worked on living beings, be they robots, humans, beasts, or, paradoxically, skeletons. Then, it would move on to test it on cards. They didn’t understand the process perfectly, but that’s why P03 was the scrybe, and they weren’t. They understood technology but not quite magic, let alone the mix of the two. P03 knew better. It wouldn’t endanger its most precious apprentice just because of a possible game mechanic, right?

Things did not go according to plan.

And now, here they were. In the middle of the woodlands, cold, tired, angry. Betrayed. They kept walking, the soft moaning of the wind caressing their ears, the sound of their hooves hitting the dirt echoing through the forest. Not long after, they finally reached it —the dreaded cabin in the woods. Property of Leshy, scrybe of the beasts. The only hope they had left.

They stared at the door, hesitating. P03 had refused to aid them after the machine malfunctioned, saying that the piece of machinery was a priority, along with the game mechanic. They had then travelled to the tower of mages and wizards, but Magnificus had apparently been too busy “training” his students to even look at their problem. Then they went to Grimora, and while the old lady had been far more affable than anyone else, she could not do anything to aid them, as her powers had little to no effect on the living. Alas, they found themselves before the door of the scrybe of the beasts. They had learned to hate Leshy and all he stood for. P03 had told them how ugly nature is, how imperfect it is. Yet P03 had turned its back on them, and Grimora had suggested visiting Leshy. They had nothing to lose, after all.

With a heavy heart, they knocked on the wooden door and waited.

Welp, there it is. The main character is my newest OC so I'm still getting used to writing them, but I think I like how it ended up. This would take place in a state of the game equivalent to act 2, not sure yet if I want it to be right before Leshy taking over or a different state of the game altogether. I have a rough general idea of where I want to take this, but for once Im enjoying writing as I go, so who knows where this could end up at. If you are still here, thank you for reading! <3

Don’t Forget Me II

I was not planning on writing another part, but I couldn’t help myself

Warning: Language (?)

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

series masterlist | <- Prev Next -> |

After the mayor finishes his speech, it only takes seconds before Peacekeepers grab you. They rip you and Treech apart, ignoring your shouts of protest. Treech tries to reach for your hand again, but the Peacekeepers yank him back, nearly knocking him over.

The soldiers marched you to the train station towards an old cargo car locked with a heavy padlock. As you stood in front of the train car, you nearly gagged. The stench was overwhelming. The cart smelled rotted and thick with manure. You doubt they’d even bothered to clean it. You desperately didn’t want to get in, but you had no choice.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.