we're not kids anymore.
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Peter Solarz
RMH
⁂
Xuebing Du
will byers stan first human second
Kiana Khansmith
cherry valley forever
Kaledo Art
One Nice Bug Per Day
todays bird
almost home
Cosimo Galluzzi
titsay
ojovivo
Product Placement
izzy's playlists!
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sheepfilms
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from Tunisia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Israel
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Egypt
seen from South Korea
seen from Türkiye
seen from Argentina
seen from Germany
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@a-secret-writer
★ WELCOME TO MY BLOG! ★
just an italian girl who loves writing.
[characters I’ll write for]
DC
✯ Jason Todd
✯ Dick Grayson
✯ Bruce Wayne
✯ Damian Wayne
✯ Tim Drake
✯ Tyler Durden [fight club]
✯ Rusty Ryan [ocean’s eleven]
✯ dead poets society
✯ Marvel
requests are open.
Wammy's boys ! ! 🚬 🍫
I got nerfed by a cold but I still wanted to finish my drawing AND I DID
enjoy my once in a blue moon cookery 🗣️ i love this filter so much btw
oh, he’s crying. i don’t think he can feel it.
poor thing :( … he’s got lots to live up to :( </3
episode so good it reaffirms your choice in fav character
stsg
Why is this never ending pain so FUCKING FAMILIAR
why am I surrounded by soulmates with tragic fates
The age I had when I was reading the most outrageous disgustingly perverted graphic fanfics known to humankind.
I’m in an abusive relationship with myself
the realest thing i've ever heard all right.
My obsession with Death Note has been mysteriously revived, and this time around I’m contemplating the psychological and literary use of food in the story. Like everything else in Death Note it’s multifaceted.
Ryuk’s apple addiction is obviously a nod to the religious symbolism of the original sin, of the apples in the Garden of Eden. Ryuk comes along like a demon from hell, granting evil knowledge and power, luring the innocent Light down a much darker path than he was originally on. But he isn’t tempting Light to eat the apples like the snake in the Garden of Eden, he’s wheedling Light to give him apples, representing how Light is the one choosing the path. It’s Light who is in control, Light who chooses the dark path once it’s laid out before him, Light who is tempting Ryuk into following him against what little judgment he has. That’s the literary implication.
And there’s another level to the apples, the psychological aspect. Ryuk comes from a dead realm, where everything is rotting, nothing is fresh or new, nothing grows or changes. For him, fresh apples are a constant and needed reminder that there’s more than that. That here, things grow. They change. Every apple tastes different based on the type, where it’s grown, how long ago it was picked, the weather, and a million other tiny factors. The realm he is in is alive and changing, shifting as old things die and new ones are born. Things here can be sweet, can be sour, tart, crunchy, soft, juicy, dry. There’s infinite variation, everything is surprising. Even the taste of the same kind of fruit you eat all the time is never truly boring. It’s not just hedonism, it’s a genuine appreciation for life. And Ryuk, ironically, is the only character in the series that has it. He may not value individual lives very much, but he has a love of the natural and cycle of life and death, of change, of energy, that humans can’t really comprehend, because he’s been deprived of it in a way we could never experience.
On the flip side are L and Mello. Addicted to sugar and processed foods like candy. They don’t appreciate change, want things to stay the same, want to know what something will taste like before they eat it. L has it to a slightly lesser degree, he still enjoys fruit with his cakes and confections. The sugar lessens the natural differences, covers up unwanted sourness, brings out juiciness, reflecting his reduced appreciation and value of life. He is not completely uncaring of it, still works to contribute a net positive of life saving in the world.
Mello, on the other hand, is addicted to chocolate. And really, who can blame him. If he were a real person I wouldn’t read anything into it. But as he’s a fictional character in a story that already uses food addictions as metaphors, I kind of have to. Even if it’s supper hypocritical of me lol. But anyway, his chocolate addiction is like an amplified version of L’s sugar addiction. It’s even more uniform and processed, illustrating how little he values life compared to Ryuk. He’ll go to any lengths, destroy as much of the natural order as needed, to achieve his goals. He has even less scruples than L.
Ryuk, despite everything, is the character most in tune with nature, the most appreciative of life and the delicate balance that must be maintained to sustain it. His godly nature, his deathly nature, allows him to see the bigger picture, to know what is meaningful on a larger scale. His own personal enjoyment, Light’s crusade against injustice, they don’t really matter. Not to life itself. No, what’s necessary to life is change and growth, but also death. The removal of things that are old and withered, so new things can take their places. He doesn’t desire stagnation or consistency, he wants to shake things up. He’s a catalyst of change. He forces the world to grow, forces Light to grow. And he puts a stop to it when it goes too far, when Light himself becomes stagnant and unchanging. He doesn’t let things truly settle. And we know this because he loves apples.
batman is one of those characters where i can read one of his comics and think “man. what a great guy. despite all his paranoia and obsessive tendencies he has a deep love for humanity that pushes him to make the world a better place. i don’t understand why so many people hate him.” and then i read another one of his comics and i think he should die in a glue trap
ST5 canon divergence comics - post-Sorcerer (part 2+3/3) part 1: (x)
never believed in conformity gate but I just love all the artworks and fan arts, like look at this one it’s perfection
STRANGER THINGS SEASON 5 EPISODE 4 SPOILERS!!!
"Time slowed down."
"And (s)he was like, perfect."
dead people can’t talk - will byers
set in season 2, during halloween.
──────────
Will had always liked Halloween. For a nerd like him, in a group of nerds like him, it felt nice to celebrate being weird without having to be yourself. Also, after everything that went down with the upside down it was one of the only times when he felt everything was truly back to normal and not stuck in that horrifying November 6th of 1983.
So when Halloween came, Will felt relieved. Halloween meant safe, that was the whole point. Costumes, masks, everyone pretending to be something else for a night.
For a few hours, he could pretend to be normal.
The party was walking down the street together like every other year, Will took in his surroundings: someone’s porch blasting some themed music, another had fake cobwebs strung across the railings, little kids running around with candies in their hands.
“Full-size candy bars,” Dustin announced dramatically, pointing. “that house is legendary.”
Will found himself smiling. He was there, with his friends, it was real.
Safe.
But then he heard the laughter, one he could recognize anywhere. It came from the other side of the street, making his stomach drop before he could even spot them.
Troy stepped out from behind a tree, flanked by a couple of other older kids. They weren’t in costumes, not really. They just had masks pulled halfway down, people like Troy thought Halloween was useless, he just walked around the street to bully the freaks that celebrated it. And of course Will happened to be one of them, if not the first of the list.
“Well,” Troy said, grinning. “look who it is!”
Will slowed without meaning to, he felt his body freezing on spot like it always happened when he felt scared lately.
“Zombie Boy,” another kid added. “Didn’t think you’d be allowed out.”
They started circling him. Troy chimed in, “Why not? People like Will love Halloween, it’s made for them. I guess it’s the only day you can fit in between the living, freak.”
Will opened his mouth, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Maybe that he just liked Halloween. Maybe that he was like everyone else. He wasn’t even sure if that was true.
Not that it mattered anyway, because before he could get a word out, Troy laughed and shoved him lightly.
“Dead people can’t talk,” Troy said. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”
Will stumbled back a step, boots skidding on the pavement. His heart started pounding, like it was trying to escape his chest. He was suddenly very aware of his own skin, and how his costume was sticking to his body, making him feel trapped and disgusting.
“Maybe it was better when you were gone, Hawkins was quieter.” Troy said, his voice low “Less weird.”
Will wished he never left his house, that his mother had insisted a little more about not going trick or treat tonight, that he stayed with Jonathan to watch a corny scary movie in his room. He also wished his friends hadn’t walked further away, unaware he fell behind a few steps back.
But then Mike turned around and Will felt his blood go cold.
“Hey!” He shouted, spinning fully toward them. “Leave him alone, Troy!”
Troy scoffed. “Relax Frogface, we’re just talking.”
“Go away!” Mike yelled. “All of you!”
People were starting to look, someone across the street frowned. Troy just rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Freaks.”
They walked off, still laughing, but the silence they left behind was worse. Will hoped it would swallow him whole.
“Will?” Dustin said, stepping closer. “What’d they say?”
“You okay? What happened?” Lucas asked, but Will would’ve rather they just kept walking ahead and forget about him, their questions were coming too fast and too loud. He realized his chest was closing in on him again.
“Will?” Dustin tried again. “Will?”
“Stop,” Will snapped suddenly, shaking his head hard as if he could shake the panic out. “Just- stop. I’m fine. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay. He could feel his breathing come out wrong, choking in his chest. The edges of his vision started to blur.
“I just—forgot something,” he said definitely too quickly. “I’ll—I’ll catch up.”
Before anyone could argue, he turned and walked away.
Fast.
──────────
School on Monday felt worse than usual.
The halls were louder, the lights were too bright and there were too many people. Will stood at his locker, fingers trembling slightly as he spun the dial. He kept his head down, focused on the numbers.
Just get your books and go.
The locker door popped open.
“Wow,” a voice said behind him. “He does come to school alone sometimes.”
Will froze, he knew better than to turn around.
Troy leaned against the locker beside his, arms crossed, flanked by the same kids as always. They took up too much space, blocking the hallway like it belonged to them. Will felt sick.
“Where’s your backup?” Troy asked. “Huh? No freak squad today?”
Will swallowed, his throat feeling tight. “Leave me alone.”
Troy laughed. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
Another kid snorted. “Guess Halloween really messed you up, huh? Heard you freaked out.”
Will’s hand clenched around his notebook. “I said-”
“You probably ruined it for them,” Troy interrupted. “dragging everyone down with your creepy zombie thing.”
Will finally turned, too fast to look like someone unphased. “I didn’t—”
“I told you,” Troy said mockingly. “dead people shouldn’t get so worked up.”
The hallway felt like it was shrinking.
“You know,” Troy continued, leaning closer, lowering his voice, “it’s kinda obvious. You only feel brave when your friends are around, but when you’re all alone you’re just-” he gestured vaguely. “this.”
Will’s chest tightened. The words hit harder than he expected.
Zombie. Dead. Better gone.
Will shoved past them, his shoulder clipping Troy’s arm but he didn’t look back. He didn’t hear whatever Troy shouted after him.
By the time he got home, his head was buzzing.
He dropped his backpack in his room and sat on the floor with back against his bed, pulling his sketchbook into his lap with shaking hands. He flipped it open, pencil already moving before he really knew what he was drawing.
A figure, a tall, crocked, scary figure with hollow eyes. He drew its ribs showing, skin torn, arms too long. People surrounded it, pointing, laughing, backing away. He pressed harder with the pencil until the paper nearly ripped. Across the top in messy letters, he wrote:
ZOMBIE BOY
He stared at it, breathing uneven. That’s what they see, he thought. That’s what I am.
A knock sounded at the door, making him flinch “Go away!”
“Will, it’s me.” It was Mike’s voice, but Will didn’t remember anything about meeting after school today.
His stomach churned. “I—I’m busy.”
The door creaked open anyway, Mike stepped inside carefully, like he expected to see an unsual mess, and stopped.
The room was quiet except for Will’s breathing. Sketches were spread across the floor, half-finished and dark. Mike’s eyes moved slowly, taking them in.
The zombie boy. Again and again.
Mike swallowed. “Will…”
“Don’t,” Will snapped, slamming the sketchbook shut. “Don’t look at that.”
Mike didn’t leave. He gently closed the door behind him. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing,” Mike said, gesturing around. “This- this seems like a lot.”
Will stood abruptly. He was getting annoyed, all those days where it felt as if nobody cared and now he shows up like that, looking at his drawings. “Why are you even here?”
Mike blinked. “I came to check on you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Will knew he was being rude, not just to Mike but to everyone else too lately. That’s also why he was so defensive.
Sure, he overheard Dr. Owens saying to his mother that his behavior could change because it was some sort of trauma response but that didn’t make him feel better. Only like there was something incredibly wrong with him and that he was beyond repair, no matter how many appointments to the doctor he had.
So he took it out on the people he cared about. That really wasn’t like him.
“That’s not how it works,” Mike said, a little defensive now. “You don’t have to ask.”
Will laughed, but it came out more as a frustrated sound. “Of course, you all always just- show up. And fix everything.”
“That’s not what I—”
“They said I need backup,” Will burst out. “That I can’t do anything on my own. That I ruin things.”
Mike’s jaw tightened. “Who said that?”
“It doesn’t matter!”
“It does matter,” Mike insisted. “Did Troy—”
“It’s not just Troy, it’s everyone! Everyone thinks it!” Will shouted, his voice cracking. “They all think I’m weird and broken and dead, and maybe they’re right!”
Mike stared at him, stunned. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” Will shot back. “It’s true! I don’t feel like me anymore. I don’t even know who that is.” He pointed at his closed sketchbook on the floor, to emphasize.
“And I hate that you have to keep saving me or fixing me,” Will said, tears finally spilling over. “I hate it!”
The words just hung in the air for a while.
Mike nodded slowly. “You’re not mad at me. Or Dustin. Or Lucas.”
Will hesitated. “…No.”
He sank back onto his bed, exhausted. “I feel like I’m… already gone. Like I’m here, but- like I didn’t come all the way back as myself.”
Mike sat beside him, closer than before. “You’re not dead.”
Will didn’t look at him like he usually would, he just swallowed weakly, “I’m always gonna be the weird kid.”
Mike’s eyebrows scrunched together, then he shrugged. “Yeah but so what? So am I, so is Dustin, so is Lucas. That’s kind of our thing.”
Will huffed weakly.
Mike reached for the sketchbook, flipping pages until he saw the zombie boy. “Is this how you feel?”
Will nodded. “Like everyone’s staring. Like they all want me gone.”
Mike was quiet for a moment. “I don’t.”
Will’s throat tightened again, his cheeks stainedwith his tears. “You’re not tired of it?”
“Of you?” Mike scoffed. “No. I’m tired for you.”
They sat in silence, the argument drained out of them, leaving space for softer words.
“I’m sorry….” Will whispered finally.
Mike shook his head immediately. Will leaned his head against Mike’s shoulder without thinking, Mike didn’t move away.
“We’re all the same as we ever were. still weirdos.” Mike said, smiling a little, then hugged his best friend. Will closed his eyes, clinging to those words.
Maybe, he thought, Zombie Boy was real. Maybe it was true that he was losing his mind too, but as long as he had his friends, as long as he had Mike, Will felt like everything would work out.
author’s note
I can’t believe stranger things is over, I started watching it when I was twelve and now I’m the same age as the party in season 5. I’m grieving-
I love season two (back when will’s friends *cough cough mike wheeler* showed him they cared about him) and i got this idea last night so i decided to write this.
Also, this is the first time I’ve written something in months :) so hopefully, the writer’s block won’t come knocking at my door again ahaha.
(and hopefully this doesn’t suck completely)
stranger things brought out the inner fanfic obsessed freak in me again eheh.
“this isn’t like one of your campaigns, you don’t get to write the ending” but the finale literally is literally mike writing the ending for his friends during a campaign.
this doesn’t make sense.
