#(( the last paragraph hurt the shit outta me ))

[hochmvt]

The tension was almost suffocating him. It was the kind of fight that hadn’t erupted all at once, but simmered under the surface for too long, the built-up now impossible to ignore. The living room felt smaller, the silence before and after every exchanged word expanding until it swallowed the space between them. Their dinner had gone cold, sitting on the table friendly as ever. Inviting almost. Isaiah, however, had lost his appetite. He just didn’t get it. 

”I know you’re not fighting me, Zeev, you’re fighting yourself. And you’re fighting yourself dirty. You can’t– I don’t get why you’re holding onto–” Isaiah stopped. It was hard to not overstep a boundary Zeev had set non-verbally months before. The sundawner was guarded, arms folded, eyes flickering between hurt and anger. Isaiah had seen this expression before — the one that said Zeev wasn’t ready to hear the truth, wasn’t ready to face the parts of himself he was running from. The contradiction, the backward steps when he’d seemed so ready to leap forward, bothered Isaiah. Too much, apparently.

The witcher’s eyes flickered with anger, but Isaiah could see the pain there, too. The glint of something more vulnerable, barely held back — a touching thought if the situation was a different one, that Zeev felt that comfortable around him to not put his entire energy into feeding this narrative he had been living for years. That he was okay. Isaiah hated that look, hated knowing that part of this fight wasn’t just about them but about the loneliness Zeev wouldn’t talk about. His family. The hope that, someday, they’d reach out, make things right. And thus, Isaiah knew (even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself) that if Zeev ever had to decide between him and his family, he’d always choose the latter. But I’m your family, too. The topic of Zeev's family was one Isaiah would never touch, even though it was the ghost in the room.

”No, we need to talk about this, Zeev, now,” Isaiah insisted and followed his boyfriend to the doorframe towards the kitchen, now being much closer as he looked down to him. ”What do you think you’re asking of me?” Zeev didn’t seem to understand, so Isaiah repeated the question. So Isaiah repeated it. Zeev answered him about how ‘he put this entire long distance relationship on him and how he had to sit through Zeev’s indecisiveness‘. He really didn’t get it. 

”Zeev, this is not about the long distance relationship, I willingly chose to be your boyfriend, knowing this would be a consequence. This is not me asking you to move in with me or anything. You’re asking of me to sit on the sidelines and watch you sitting here and waiting, while there’s an entire world out there.” He hesitated again. Then just spoke his mind. ”Growth is scary and painful, I know. But neccessary. But right now, Zeev, you’re not growing, your stagnant. And that will kill every bit of hope inside you and this will turn you bitter.” The words, too, had tasted bitter in his mouth, but he’d said them anyway. It wasn’t about pinning Zeev down to every promise he’d ever made — it was about the constant backtracking, the unspoken struggle between staying trapped in Sundawn and dreaming of something more. Isaiah couldn’t understand it, the way Zeev seemed to want out of this life but kept holding on, waiting for something that might never come. Why was Zeev holding on to things that have already let go of him? He wouldn’t push him on moving somewhere. He couldn’t. It wasn’t his place, and yet, watching Zeev stay stuck hurt more than he could articulate. Isaiah knew what Sundawn was doing to him. The small-town claustrophobia, the whispers behind their back, the weight of being seen as something that he wasn’t, all of it suffocated him. And yet, Zeev stayed, facing his death and not even fighting for his life. Still grasping for a family that had abandoned him. 

The podcast host ran a hand through his hair, trying to push down the helplessness swelling inside. He hated this. Hated feeling like he was the one pushing Zeev when all he wanted was for Zeev to see that there was more out there — more than just waiting for something that might never happen. Looking at the door of his shop, hoping that one of his sisters would come in. But it wasn’t his decision. Zeev wasn’t his project, wasn’t someone he could fix or mold into something else. He loved him. That meant waiting, didn’t it? Being patient.  But that patience was wearing thin. The long-distance, the months apart, the loneliness: Isaiah had accepted all of it. He'd chosen it willingly. But watching Zeev stop himself from growing, from only imagining a life beyond Sundawn, beyond the disappointment he woke up to every day — it was unbearable. And Isaiah knew that he couldn’t wait forever either. Moving here, however, would suffocate him, too. The blonde couldn't force Zeev to move, couldn't make him leave, but he wished he could. He wished Zeev could see what he saw: a man with so much potential, so much life, yet caught in this cycle of waiting. And every time Zeev took two steps forward, he seemed to fall three steps back, the progress they'd made dissolving in moments like this. Isaiah could only stand by and watch, wishing for something more, knowing he couldn't cross the line Zeev had drawn around his grief, his hurt.

And Isaiah realized in that moment, as he looked down at him, that he didn’t even know what he feared more: 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀   ⠀ Watching his boyfriend waiting for the day that’d never come or  ㅤ ⠀⠀   ⠀ losing him if that day, against all expectations, would come after all   ⠀⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤㅤ  ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀   ⠀ and leaving him behind with nothing  ⠀ ⠀⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀    ⠀  but a Zeev-shaped hole,   ⠀ ⠀   ⠀ ㅤ⠀ㅤ  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀   ⠀ ⠀he could never fill with memories,  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀   ⠀ ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀  ⠀even if his life depended on it.

And Isaiah didn’t even know if their hearts were breaking together, or if it was just his, slowly unraveling, suffering from the tiny cracks on its surface by all the things left unsaid, lingering like shadows.

Like many surprises in life, they came suddenly. And some of them took a form that was unpredictable and unintentional. Zeev had hoped that what was happening right now would never happen at all. Wishes, however, remained just that in most cases. 

Things left unsaid are bound to break free sooner or later. For this none of them was at fault, for their relationship was build on distance most of the time. They were able to have deep-rooted coversations — one of the special qualities and reasons for their relationship — but either of them had shunned away from mentioning that one unsolved issue.

That was until now. An incipient comment as snarky as he had never sounded, filled with anxiety. And in return he received a remark grown in uncertainty. Isaiah had poured gasoline over the fire that Zeev had caused, burning him like the sun never could.

As his pulse pounded in his throat, the release of cortisol and adrenaline did the rest. His hands were clammy, his heart rattled like a panicked bird, but his expression remained impassive. The room temperature had dropped around them, his eye contact was unbroken, void of his characteristical specks of gold. His sudden uncanny aura expanding and pressing on his chest and everyone in vicinity. There was hardly anything he could do about it. Isaiah's calm anger struck Zeev with a mix of distaste and deep-seated pain, his words striking into his insecurities. And Isaiah knew. That's why he did it. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. But it is what it is.

They were both aware that their relationship, fresh and challenging in the sense of distance, did not provide the perfect basis to grow and be cared for evenly. Nevertheless, they had decided to give it a try. Zeev had voiced in the past, that he was not yet ready to leave his home. And Isaiah could not be pinned down. They both had a home they wanted to return to and each defined it for themselves. The fact that Zeev had once told him that he couldn't leave his family had been one of many honest moments between them. 

When that statement was held up to him to reflect his ambivalence about his desires for the future, the witcher felt cornered into an immediate decision. The last decision he had had to make had cost him his family.

Apparently old habits die hard. 

“Fight dirty?” Zeev repeated, his brows shooting into his hairline. “Is this how you expect this discussion to go?” As intimidating as Isaiah undoubtedly was in that moment — and Zeev hated every moment of it — he had learnt to stand his ground.

Finally, Zeev took a deep breath as his fingers stroked the palm of his hand. “I'm not fighting you, Isaiah, I'm asking you to not use my past words against me. I'm well aware of what I said.” That didn't make it any easier to carry, though. He wanted to go. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to lead a life outside of this one with Isaiah. Even if this situation wasn't a nice moment, it didn't diminish his love. Nevertheless, he was still caught up in a maelstrom of hopes that might never come to fruition. A commitment to his family and the desire to be with them. But what would happen if they turned to him? If everything could go back to the way it used to be? The possibility of him leaving Isaiah was a valid enough reason for doubt. And the rational part in Zeev couldn't blame him. But the emotional part of him was scared. He couldn't have both.

“I know this isn't ideal,” Zeev continued. “I know I'm asking a lot of you. I just... " He paused, feeling the tension of his jaw and his rotating thoughts that wouldn't help the situation at all. "Your cigarettes are on the kitchen table. I need a cuppa.” And a moment to clear his thoughts.

[capthcwzer]

⋆ NAME?: gabriel / gabby

⋆ PRONOUNS?: she / they

⋆ MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: my boy howzer and l.ee s.coresby of h.is d.ark m.aterials. howzer is just in the driver's seat right now

⋆ RP PET PEEVES?: assumptions: in general but specifically in regards to shipping. if i had a nickel for every time i've had someone just assume i'm down to ship i'd have too many nickels. shit you the fuck not last time i was on lee's blog i was chatting with someone infodumping about the story he's from, mentioned he wanted to own a farm, and the other person promptly start talking about their muse fucking him on said farm. no prompting, no discussion, nothing. fuck outta here with that.

⋆ EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: i started on deviantart when i was, like, eleven i think so like?? 2008, 2009ish? fifteen years...........damn.

⋆ FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: depends on the time of day and the alignment of the sun or something. it varies, but i will say smut doesn't happen as often as the rest.

⋆ PLOTS OR MEMES?: i prefer to plot first then do memes when things are better plotted out and i know how my character will react to certain prompts, then memes!

⋆ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: either, tbh! i mean, if i've written a paragraph and you only give me a single line i might feel a lil hurt depending on the contents of said line, but i never expect people to meet my lengths. i tend to go on tangents and what should be a few sentences turns into a whole novella

⋆ TIME TO WRITE?: usually mornings, afternoons, and weekends. if things at my work are slow, i'll write, and my weekends are completely free (usually)

⋆ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: me 🤝howzer🤝lee = strong sense of justice and duty

tagged by (stolen from) : @mvnces

tagging: if you're reading this its already too late

[gimmeyoursnacks]

Your post about star wars is SO VALID. also my dad gave me shit for being excited about the acolyte bc "it's not about the war" and i was like "yeah EXACTLY. WE GET JEDI CULTURE". And then the show made everyone absolute fucking morons apparently. There's a super conservative guy on youtube (ew) who did a few videos on it and while i disagree with his complaints about "wokeness", his deconstruction of the Very Bad Plot is uh. Pretty good.

It sucks when things have So Much Potential but then were OBVIOUSLY WRITTEN without the love or passion from the fans. And instead with "money making" like as a fem i am ALL FOR women in star wars but it. Genuinely seems like all the writers of the Acolyte cared about was adding a "girlboss" to Star Wars without...actually caring about Star Wars in general.

Even despite the BOOKS having a FAR more interesting "sequel" story, the FIRST of the sequel trilogy was REALLY GOOD. And then ALL THW OTHER ONES SUCKED BECAUSE THE CHARACTERS GOT BUTCHERED. They don't write to tell stories anymore they write to make money but it's like. Are they even MAKING money anymore??? Sorry to rant in your inbox lmao i think the last good star wars show was the Clone Wars and even they had shit writing sometimes. At least it was entertaining.

No don't apologize you're right. This is also very funny to see right after I had a star wars convo with my dad (he has some weird opinions lmao).

I was so excited to see some more of jedi culture and yeah I was disappointed that the show didn't really have that many scenes in the temple but I would've been able to ignore that if they actually Did A Good Plot. Jedi murder mystery was such a cool fucking concept but it was pretty clear early on that the mystery wasn't really well fleshed out lmao. Like Osha being mistaken for her sister didn't even last like a single episode. They cleared that misunderstanding up too quickly (in my personal opinion). Like if they had more episodes it could've been done better maybe??? In general I don't think they gave us enough time with any of the characters to really care about them.

Ok now you got me paragraphing. I don't like Qimir and his reveal wasn't good. There was like no build up or any hints to him being the Big Bad, it was only shocking because it came outta nowhere. I will give the show points tho for Manny Jacinto's arms.

What really disappointed me was how Osha and Mae were handled. Like the twins in theory would be characters I'd go crazy about. Two people that share the same soul, but they're opposites of the other. One who yearns to explore the galaxy and become a Jedi and the other that is content with the coven and her sister. In the end they switch places and come to wildly different understandings of the one night that traumatized them both. AND YET!! It lacked something I can't quite put my finger on and it. it hurts my soul

[fishareglorious]

the tenderness of hofmann's conversation with marcus is a boiling hot cocktail of salt and lemon juice shoved into my bleeding heart. if this is enough to make me cry i rue the day i play that chapter.

its nice being wanted, but not by the law.

poor woman she's left in the dark and she's also public enemy number... not one by she's a wanted criminal now lol

girlie you’re nineteen technically youre still a teen. still kinda fucks me up she and isolde are respectively 19 and 18 like i imagine they were in their twenties at least, but in the same vein i guess this drives home kakania’s bright-eyed naively idealistic perception of attaining her goals

i read a fic this morning that kinda mirrors isolde’s egregious extremism of kakania's ideals and its kinda uncanny how similar both go

you sound pretty cult-y, girl!

hm. someone should give isolde a BITE model pamphlet.

called it when i said that what kakania said to isolde in their walk would come and bite her back in the ass. something something “we could build a world where we wont be oppressing our most primal desires”

her heart is somewhat in the right place but the way you're doing it is.... yeah.

staring this chapter with such a strong one-liner huh

we've all watched the star, we know a thing or two of the extent of the horrors of the storm through your eyes, hofmann.

this isn't very comforting, but you're certainly not gonna get any more gray hairs once you. well.

sorry.

really fucking obsessed with these carbuncles. the vienna phenotype of carbuncle have grown mustaches and learnt to make hats lmao

FUCK. SHIT. NO. FUCK. OH NO. FUCK.

well. it was nice knowing you. goddamn it all.

aw fuck marcus. no no its not your fault. marcus no no no no no dont blame yourself

oh thank god hofmann didnt react negatively. thank you. thank you.

hofmann's dialogue is going to make me cry. at the same time it sounds a little similar to one of the trails in chapter 4, that one where the narrator guy talks about a group of young arcanists who got rehabilitated. paulina was there i remember. the conclusion of it went something like the last paragraph here

im going to scream. maybe cry. her words just drive the knife deeper with how everything’s gonna end and that cough of hers is like a gun being cocked. i hate erevrutmrg awjk

HOFMANN. GRETA HOFMANN. NO. ARE YOU FUCKING. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. DO NOT KID WITH ME. DO NOT HURT US LIKE THIS DO NOT GENTLY PLACE THAT DEATH FLAG ON MARCUS' PALMS I WILL KILL MYSELF.

FUCK

im gettinf so emotional about this

greta smile........... looking at her happy makes me sad.

we’re getting closer to the inevitable.

oh lol that gun cocking scared the shit outta me was she just fiddling with her gun the entire time

finally playing chapter 6. i'm putting everything under cut for the sake of not spoiling people and because i might go off the shits.

anyways: i'll be bringing up the events that'll happen in the later stages constantly. also will mention chapter 7 (patch 1.9) spoilers in detail so watch out.

isolde on the torture chair once again.

since i like reading up on medical history i am curious a little bit on the actual historical accounts of EST. while im mainly more interested in the realm of epidemiology instead of neurosciences and general psychology stuff i might fall into a deep dive of this topic later lol. who knows.

.... eee. a sad truth.

ehm. not really.

ah were back for the regularly scheduled arcanist discrimination i guess

SLAYYYYY KAKANIA'S HERE

oh. yeah i forgot kakania's a med school dropout with a practice that's definitely not legal.

can't. hold schwartz against that sigmund freud was a... weird guy. especially with his oedipus complex thing

we back on laplace. also what the fuck is up with these guys. didn't matilda and sotheby run into one of of them covered in weird slime in The Star

MANUS MASKS????!!! WHAT THE FUCK STOP EXPERIMENTING WITH MANUS GOOP!??!?!!!

FUCK. IS THAT WHY PEOPLE STARTED TURNING INTO MANUS MONSTERS IN CHAP 7.

STOP THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW.

the forehead slap i just did can be heard all the way down the marinara ocean. like fuck offffffffffffff. luc's such a funny bastard she has the most serious robotic voice yet she does stupid comedic shit like this. i love you you funny tin woman

... at the expense of the majority of your staff? god with my knowledge on chapter 7 im constantly going 😬 here not going to lie.

!!!????? HE SHOVED A BALLPOINT INTO HIS EYE???? OH MY FUCKING GOD?

i kindave feel for medpoc if I was them i would be biting the shit out of lucy right now in utter frustration of her callousness

an unfortunate nickname for them, but that's semmelweis' team!

all we know from echoes in the mountain's story has set up quite some of the happenings for this chapter.

[queenimmadolla]

what about one based on fall outta love by salem?

the morning after a house party at ricks, eddie bumps into reader for the first time - hungover in a kitchen and they instantly fall for each other, but reader initially rebuffs him (and every other guy in hawkins) & eventually agrees to a date but despite her feelings for him she tells him to fall out of love with her, they keep hanging but he just falls harder and then finds out from someone else she had her heart literally ripped out and set alight by an ex so has built so many walls hence constantly telling him to save himself, fall out of love because that’s what she’s also telling herself. but obvioooooously, they will end up together 🫶

my god. this one got out of hand. i mean i really ran away with it. thought it’d be like 2k word count wise now here we are at 8k! since the song was in scream, I decided to have it be a Halloween party they meet at! I took a couple of creative liberties because I couldn’t think of a date idea fast enough to write in a satisfying manner (meaning decently, but Eddie would most definitely consider smoking in your car as a date, he’d consider anything with you a date, so long as you’d have him.) and I didn’t want to have too many large time skips, but I still tried to capture the root of the request! Hope you like it because i LOVED writing it!

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

warnings: teenage angst, fluff, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, reader dresses as Ghostface, Eddie as Michael Myers and Heather Holloway meddles in your love life

a/n: we’re gonna pretend Scream came out in the early 80s (I have a whole fancast of an 80s version). let me know if the keep reading tab eats or repeats paragraphs so i can remove it!

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, forcing your eyes open in a squint as you were pulled from sleep due to the chill of the air. You could make out a mesh covered ceiling—wait no. You still had your mask on. 

You lifted your head from the cushion it had been resting on, frowning when you realized you’d wiped out on the couch at Reefer Rick’s. Your head was killing you and you could feel something sitting in your stomach, something that wouldn’t be going anywhere but up.

You’d caught wind of the party when Heather mentioned it to you. Initially, you’d been skeptical of attending─not because of the weed and drugs that would be going around, you were a hardy participant in that—since you were sure that it would disappoint you. It’s not like you expected anything life changing to happen at a drug dealer’s party, but you’d been faced with a lot of recent let downs and disappointment, not a whole lot was going on in your life. That was sort of the problem. You liked being on your own, it was safe; you wouldn’t get hurt and nothing would happen to you again.

But nothing was happening to you. 

It was like you were living your life on autopilot, finding barely any joy in things. Maybe part of you hoped you’d somehow find some at the party.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t remember shit, having blacked out after your friends talked you into a couple of shots. After the fifth, it was all you and by the ninth, caution was gone with the wind. It wasn’t even a blur to you, you legitimately couldn’t recall a single thing other than your own laughter along with your friends’ immediately after downing that last shot.

You’d gone dressed as Ghostface, a quick last minute costume that wasn’t too much effort (you wore something a little scandalous underneath the black gown just in case it proved to be a ‘sexy’ party instead of just a bunch of teenagers dressed however they wanted to be) and you liked the mystery it gave you, you could interact with anyone and no one would know it was you.

Your head throbbed as images popped up—memories. The memory blurs finally arrived and they were causing your brain a great deal of pain. You couldn’t recall too much and you didn’t want to because nothing good could have come from getting fucked up so fast and waking up on some pornstach having dealer’s couch (seriously, Rick was like thirty two and he was hanging out with teens? Red fucking flag). 

You sighed as you pushed yourself up, hugging the black gown of your costume a little tighter around you. You wished you’d gone with wearing a long sleeve t-shirt and some warm pants instead of the cheap black corset and black tights. Should’ve know better, really, because it was way too fucking cold to dress hot on Halloween.

The wind howled outside of the house, as if to prove your point and you stood up, stepping over the sleeping individuals that littered the ground. You noticed a couple of your friends but you hadn’t driven together so there was no point in waking them. Clearly, you hadn’t been the only one to pass out at the party and you made a note to never do that again. Anyone could have taken advantage of you.

You chanced a glance at your wrist and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still early, really early. Barely even 5am, so you could still make it home before your parents were up and realized you hadn’t met your curfew, you could also be sick in the comfort of your own clean bathroom. You made a beeline for the door.

“Another survivor,” a voice commented, disturbing the quiet of the thoroughly wrecked house.

You followed the voice, spotting Eddie Munson in the corner of the kitchen, leaning up against the counter there. 

You weren’t too familiar with him, had a couple of classes with him in the past, saw him around school and knew he dealt to a couple people, but you hadn’t ever had an encounter with him before. Never exchanged a single word.

The feeling in your stomach grew worse, as did the pulsing in your head, “I don’t know about that.”

Your voice was a near whisper, hoarse from whatever the fuck happened last night after you blacked out.

Eddie chuckled and you wondered how he was still functioning—and this early, too—but you hadn’t seen him around. Or maybe you had, you thought as you took in the blue mechanic overalls he was wearing and the Michael Myers mask by his side. Like you, and just about everyone else at the party, he hadn’t been the only one with that costume, so while you could recall seeing a couple of Michaels around while you were sober, you couldn’t be positive one of them had been him.

“Not feeling too good, Ghost?” He didn’t seem to have a problem talking to a total stranger, talking you up like he was familiar with you, which you highly doubted thanks to your mask.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Kinda just want to take my head off.” You rubbed the back of your head through the hood.

“You want some water?” He didn’t wait for your response, just went right into Rick’s fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, reaching over the counter to hand it to you.

Despite how it seemed to jostle your brain, you gave a brief laugh before you remembered people were still passed out and you hastily tried to silence yourself, covering your mouth which ended with you letting out an embarrassing snort. Then you quickly took the offered bottle into your glove-covered hand, but you didn’t drink it, regardless of how badly you wanted to. That would require taking off your mask.

Eddie just grinned, sliding his hands into the pockets of his costume.

“I like your costume.” You commented, your gloved fingers picking at the label on the bottle, heartbeat picking up as Eddie’s grin widened to expose his teeth. There was something about it, something secretive. Like he knew something you didn’t. 

“Thank you,” Eddie grabbed the Michael mask from where he’d placed it on the counter next to his own bottle of water. It flopped around in his hold. “Didn’t wanna show my mug.”

“That’s a shame.”

Pretty, is all you could think when he glanced to the side for a moment, looking all shy. His hair was a mess, yours was probably worse under your mask, definitely matted, but other than that, he looked put together. 

Suddenly, you were even more grateful for your mask. You hadn’t bothered putting on makeup since your face would be hidden for most of the night (save for pulling it over your mouth to drink). But god, you must have stunk. You couldn’t wait to get home where your shower and toothbrush were waiting for you. You were glad there was a notable distance between the both of you so he couldn’t smell you and the alcohol radiating off your being.

“So. So, so, so. I’m guessing you don’t remember.” Eddie leaned back against the counter behind him, looking very smug. 

Your blood went cold—colder, actually—at the implication.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no. What had you done?

Play it cool.

“I don’t know, do I?” You winced behind your mask. Cool, not stupid, you idiot! 

Eddie chuckled, glancing shyly down at the ground before his gaze flickered back up to you, warmth pooling in those brown eyes. 

Huh. You never noticed the color before. Or how big they were, or expressive. Very soft. 

“I don’t think so,” He responded, teeth biting at his lower lip as he stared at you from under his lashes.

“Damn. Didn’t expect you to call my bluff. Please tell me it wasn’t anything too embarrassing.”

“No, it wasn’t. Not in my opinion, we just—uh, hung out.” He licked his lips, suddenly looking very skittish. You did a quick mental body check, clenching down there to see if it felt different, sore to indicate you’d fucked someone but you felt nothing unusual, so you couldn’t have slept with him. He must have genuinely meant hanging out. 

“Oh. Okay. So, I did something pretty cool then.” It was the right thing to say, Eddie immediately perked up, leaving you amazed with how he somehow managed to go from sullen to glowing so fast.

“What? Not mortified that you spent time with The Freak?” He said it so nonchalantly, if you hadn’t seen how affected he’d appeared when he simply thought it moments ago, you wouldn’t think he cared.

“You’re no freakier than anyone else,” for some reason you offered him a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “But you appear significantly better dressed. In my opinion.”

Eddie looked like he was mulling something over, then he pulled his hands out of his pockets and took a step closer, grin morphling into a smile, a little more intimate, “You have an opinion of me?”

Oh, fuck. He was flirting. Oh, God. Eddie Munson was flirting with you.

He was flirting with you and he didn’t even know who you were. It made that feeling in your stomach more apparent because you knew the moment he found out who you were, he wouldn’t be interested. 

Just like—no. You couldn’t go there. You were finally in a good place and you’d be damned if you let any guy ruin it for you. Even Eddie Munson.

“It’s not very thorough. Well, it was nice meeting you, Eddie.” You didn’t wait for his reply as you returned to your original goal, ignoring the flash of disappointment you saw on his face in favor of slipping out the front door.

─

“He’s staring at you again,” Heather smirked, chin perched in her palm as she sat across from you in the cafeteria.

“Who?” You asked, trying to seem bored with the conversation to get her to drop it. Anytime she noticed some guy glance in your direction, she tried to convince you you had a new suitor. God forbid it actually was a dude who was interested in you. Heather always aggressively lobbied for you to do something about it then she’d get mad at you when you did, by telling them to move the hell on because it wasn’t gonna happen.

She leaned across the table, pretty brown eyes wide with excitement as she grinned. “Eddie. Munson.”

You tensed, swallowing the cucumber slice you’d popped into your mouth before she’d sprung the news on you. Despite how badly you wanted to, you kept yourself from turning to look at his table, almost clear across the cafeteria.

“What? Why?”

“Who cares? Eddie Munson is staring at you—has been every day this week and he’s been doing it in the halls, too,” Heather looked proud of herself for her snooping habits, curly side ponytail bobbing as she rattled on, “He’s cute, he can give you free weed—Lana Landon dated him for like a week and wouldn’t shut up about that perk, and I don’t know, he seems like a good guy. Maybe a little on the grumpy side, but I think that’s an act.”

You rolled your eyes and took a drink of water before responding.

“That’s all guys ever do. Act. He doesn’t know me, if anything he probably just thinks I’m pretty or something. He’ll get over it.” 

Heather smirked and you knew what was coming, “I think he’s still hung up on Ghostface.” 

She raised her eyebrows suggestively and you threw a chip at her, which she dodged with her palm.

“Hey! Friendly fire!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.” You groaned, shaking your head. After you’d gotten home and cleaned up, you’d called Heather, having remembered (with a great deal of panic) that she’d been there, too, and you might have left her there amongst the strung out people in the house. She seemed surprised at your relief when you heard her voice on the other side. Turns out, she’d left pretty early.

When you’d taken offense to her leaving you at some random party, she’d explained that she had initially tried to take you with her, but you’d been having such a good time talking with Eddie that you begged her to let you stay.

She hadn’t seen you like that over someone in a long time, so she’d actually threatened Eddie with bodily harm if anything happened to you and allowed you to stay.

Maybe that had been why Eddie was still around when you woke up.

“Look, I’m just saying you should talk to him. If he doesn’t know you’re Ghostface—which I’m pretty sure he does because he is doing some intense staring─then he’s just interested in you. Talk to him, give him a shot. Pleeeeaaase?” She batted her eyelashes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

You pretend to think it over, eyes raised to the ceiling. “Mmm—no.”

“Ugh!”

“Ugh!” You mimicked with a smirk, standing with your tray. “I’m gonna go smoke in my car, wanna come?”

“Yes,” She sighed but made no move to get up, in fact, she looked down right depressed. “But I can’t. I’ve gotta cram for Siegfried’s stupid stats test. There’s no way I’m getting anything higher than a ‘C’.” 

You failed to notice her gaze flicker behind you and back. “You have fun! Go! Give you brain cells a vacation.” 

Heather shooed you away, eagerness returning but that was Heather for you. She flip flopped through emotions pretty quick. With a shrug, you turned and made your way to a nearby trash can, dumping your tray on your way out. You’d made it halfway down the hall when you felt a presence behind you.

You swiveled around and flinched when you found Eddie just a foot behind you, hands raised to show he meant no harm with a sheepish grin on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Geez! You’re really quiet, I didn’t hear a thing.” You calmed your breathing, running a hand over your hair.

Eddie snickered, gesturing down to his reeboks, “Sneakers.” 

A silence fills the space between you both as Eddie watched you fight to keep from smiling, bemused at how you were clearly losing.

“Get it?” He added to prompt your defeat. 

You succumbed to the smile, biting your lip to keep it from getting too big and Eddie looked thoroughly proud of his ability to be of some amusement to you.

“That was—that was really bad.” You admitted, still smiling. “It’s a good joke, great joke, just also very bad.”

“Belittle it all you want, it served its purpose.” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, scuffing one of his sneakers against the school tile. “Hey, uhm—where you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to be so direct, or nosey. “Not far.”

Eddie nodded, having expected you to be a little wary and pursed his lips, looking like he was ready for a kiss. Then he made a popping sound.

“Do you happen to smoke weed?” 

It was obvious to you that he was asking so he could offer and you remembered what Heather had said. About Eddie being able to give you free weed. Or rather, being used so he’d provide the weed. Truth was, you remembered Lana bragging about it, too, until Andrew Wilkerson from the baseball team started paying attention to her. She never mentioned Eddie or his weed again. And it hadn’t been just Lana, a couple of other girls took advantage of Eddie’s romantic side. You hadn’t cared all that much back then but after realizing he’d taken care of you on Halloween, had kept you company although he didn’t know you were you, thinking about what they did to him made you feel sick.

You didn’t use people, you knew too well how awful it felt. Still, Eddie looked so hopeful. You had a feeling he fully expected you to do the same thing as those other girls, but was too naive or resilient to give up. Reminded you a lot of how you used to be.

“I do,” you confirmed and when Eddie opened his mouth, ready to offer you what he had in that lunchbox of his, you continued, “I have a nug in my car, if you’d like to join me.”

Despite your better judgment, you’d indulge him, if not because so many others seemed to let him down. Nothing could come from it of course. And you wouldn’t use him, either. 

Eddie’s face split into a wide smile.

That’s how you wound up in your car, giggling as Eddie nearly hacked up an organ from the harsh bubbler you kept in a scooby doo themed lunchbox, under the passenger seat which Eddie was occupying.

“Jesus,” he croaked out, coughing into his elbow. 

“Feels like you burned a hole in the back of your neck, doesn’t it?”

Eddie nodded as he continued to cough, eyes watering. Once he’d managed to get it under control, he let out a sigh of relief. 

“How the hell do you hit that all the time?” He asked, passing you the small blue pipe.

You lit it again and took your own hit, coughing once you’d exhaled but not worse than Eddie had.

“I don’t,” you placed the bubbler in your cup holder and leaned against the driver’s door so you could face Eddie who was leaned all the way back, staring at you with happy looking red eyes, “It’s pretty harsh, so all that coughing gives a pretty intense and quick high. I’ll be good off of that for a couple of days. Also I have to give my throat some time to heal.”

Eddie laughed at your joke and you couldn’t help but think it was a pretty sound. “I’m more of a joint kind of guy, but pretty girls don’t offer me free drugs often, let alone smoke with me without getting so high they can’t function. Would’ve been stupid to say no.”

You tried to ignore the fluttering in your belly, you’d thought those butterflies had died out a while ago. And all he did was call you pretty. Pretty pathetic.

You may not not have been high enough to pass out like Eddie implied; however, you were high enough to feel brave.

“Is that what Lana did?”

Eddie looked momentarily shocked at your question, eyes rising to the ceiling of your car before he decided to answer your question.

“Uhm. Yeah. She—yeah. She was nice, sweet. Didn’t seem repulsed with me. Thought she just approached me for a deal, then she started flirting with me, I guess. Then, I thought we were a thing, but it turns out we weren’t. She actually was interested in just the deal.”

“Only, she didn't tell you that.” You finished for him, realizing despite having been wronged by her, Eddie wouldn’t paint her in a bad light, making it seem like it had been a misunderstanding. You’d heard the way Lana boasted. It hadn’t been a misunderstanding. “Did she lead you on, Eddie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, I just did a lot of thinking. Not enough asking.” 

God, you wanted to punch Lana in the face. Eddie was so nice, he refused to admit that Lana—in that moment—had been a bad person. Blamed himself for thinking some girl was interested in him because she was intentionally flirting with him in order to gain something for her own selfish reasons.

“That’s how it works, Eddie. Leading someone on. They flirt, make you feel special, play coy or maybe make you think you’re worrying over nothing when you work up enough courage to question the slight gaslighting and affection-bombing—then they leave. ‘Cause they’ve taken what they wanted and you’ve got nothing left to offer. It’s not okay. She was wrong for that.”

Eddie was quiet, you could tell his mind wasn’t. When he did speak again, his voice was soft.

“But I flirt. A lot.”

You wanted to shake the victim blaming mentality right out of him, he was making another excuse for her! Or worse, he thought he was like her.

“Eddie, listen really carefully to what I’m about to say, okay?” You waited for his nod of understanding.

“There is a large difference between your flirty personality and leading someone on. You,” you lightly punched his shoulder, “flirt because you’re just a flirt. Lana, doesn’t. Lana singled you out, intentionally, with the hopes that making you think you two were more serious than just casually dating would get her free weed. When you intentionally single someone out with your flirting, it’s because you like them and you want more of them. Am I right?”

The weed in your system was why you were able to withstand the intensity of his gaze, almost burned more than the bubbler had.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally admitted, the side of his head leaning into the headrest as he shifted onto his side to face you, “You’re right.”

“You deserve better than that, Eddie. You deserve better than the rest of those girls, too.” He hadn’t mentioned the others and you hadn’t wanted to bring them up either, sensing his shame but you needed him to know. He couldn’t end up like you.

“Do you remember me?” He blurted out and you frowned.

“Yeah, we had English together last year.”

“No,” Eddie shook his head, “I mean from the party. Rick’s party.”

You froze, heart stopping. 

Eddie had that hopeful look on his face again as he tugged on a strand of his hair, nervous.

“You were Ghostface,” he prompted, as if it would trigger the memory you already recalled.

He knew it was you this whole time?

“How did you know it was me? Oh, fuck, please tell me I didn’t rant to you about my life while I was plastered. I’m so embarrassing.” 

You wanted to disappear until Eddie gave a nervous laugh, shaking his head again.

“No, no. Definitely didn’t do that. But uh, I saw you. With your mask off. While you were drinking. A lot.” He snickered at the memory of you throwing a shot glass back, then proceeding to refill it an almost concerning amount of times.

“Your voice is pretty distinct, too. You also meet your height requirements.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say, stunned that he’d even be able to recognize your voice. Up until the morning you’d woken up on that shitty couch (and the night before, apparently) you couldn’t remember ever actually speaking to Eddie. Still, somehow he’d heard you. That knowledge warmed the area in you where the butterflies had been fighting to survive all this time.

You weren’t stupid, you knew where Eddie was going with this. What his stare had meant when you reassured him he wasn’t like Lana.

Heather was right. Eddie Munson was hung up on you. You had to put an end to it.

Luckily, you were (in the most cliche of manners) saved by the bell when it rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

You hurriedly got out of your car and Eddie scrambled out after you, hurriedly moving around to your side while you locked it.

“I gotta go,” was the poor excuse you gave him as you started to rush back to the main entrance of the school.

“Hey! Wait!”

“Eddie, please.” You whipped around to face, eyes pleading for him to understand. “I meant it when I said you deserved better than Lana and the other girls. You do. And you deserve better than me, too. I can’t give you what you want and I’m not gonna lead you on. So, we should just cut our losses now, before one of us gets hurt. Whatever you’re in, fall out of it. It was actually rather nice hanging out with you, and thank you for looking after me at Rick’s party, even though I can’t remember most of it. You’re a good guy and you’ll find a good girl. You will.”

You left him standing in the parking lot as you weaved through the cars, feeling an awful lot like you just cut off a limb that had miraculously been growing back. Tears were prickling in your eyes when you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the crowd of students. You didn’t feel the butterflies anymore.

And you didn’t notice Heather, crouched behind the school bus when you passed by it in your hurry to get as much distance between you and Eddie as you could.

She stood up once you’d gone in, looking remorseful over something she had no control of and watched as Eddie stood there, staring at the entrance like he hoped you’d be coming right back out. When he realized you wouldn’t be, he shoved his hands in his pocket and walked over to his van, sitting on the back bumper.

Heather waited until he couldn’t see before she snuck back into the school. She couldn’t miss the test in her last class, but she knew what she had to do after and she knew where she’d be able to find Eddie when school let out.

─

Eddie was drained. Mentally, emotionally and physically ‘cause he hadn’t eaten anything during lunch. He ditched the remainder of the school day, wallowing in the back of his van, despite the rapidly dying high he was nursing, he hadn’t been hungry. Still wasn’t. 

He figured he wouldn’t be regaining his appetite with a stomach already full of defeat.

Just when he finally thought things were looking up for him, life had to remind him that he wasn’t allowed to be completely happy. Had to have some sort of angst in his life, because apparently his mommy, daddy, background, academic, and financial issues weren’t enough.

He wasn’t allowed to have you, either.

A couple of weeks ago, that would have been fine with him. He hadn’t known you too well. You’d had some classes together over the years, though he only realized you were pretty in English class last year. Caught glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye every now and then, it was no big deal. Then, it was like he opened his eyes or something, because you were suddenly everywhere. 

Never center stage, always in the background amongst the crowd but always drawing his attention, like a moth to a flame. His locker was across from yours and a couple of lockers down so he was usually able to overhear your conversations with your friends. He figured loud mouthed, know-it-all Heather Holloway was your best friend since she was more often than not on the other end of those conversations. 

You were pretty fucking funny, witty, goofy and cool. He wouldn't have minded actually getting the chance to know you, maybe be friends. You even seemed like the type who would appreciate Hellfire, could offer to show you the ropes and extend an invitation.

He wasn’t ignorant enough to think he was infatuated with you or anything, didn’t even know you. He was just intrigued and he happened to play close attention to details.

It would have been a passing fancy, really, had it not been for Reefer Rick’s party. Eddie had gone under the guise that it was to strengthen his business relationship with the supplier, and not at all because a girl he was interested in would be in attendance.

Of course (because he’s Eddie) she’d gone, alright, and had been all over another guy. 

He hadn’t been too hurt by that one, they hadn’t held any meaningful conversations and she seemed pretty flighty.

Then he caught sight of you, one of the many Ghostfaces—the shortest of them all—and when he actually saw you take off the mask, the allure returned. You’d shown up in the background of his life again. 

Eddie had watched you (from a safe distance) get progressively more drunk and he was honestly pretty impressed with how much it took to get there. If he wasn’t gonna be getting the girl at the party, maybe he could gain a new acquaintance. With that, he’d approached you. Or rather, you plowed into him.

Heather had apologized for you as they both worked to steady you while you rambled out your own apologies a mile a minute.

“Hey—no harm done.”  Eddie held his hands out as if to showcase he was fine. Then he realized his own mask was in the way of his vision and yanked it off, though he had suspected you wouldn’t know who he was.

“Eddie!” You chirped, pointing a gloved finger in his direction like he didn’t know who he was. “I’ve seen you before!”

He raised his eyebrows, bewildered at your admission.

“You have?” He had to lean in closer to make sure you heard him.

“Yeah! We go to school together.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, eyes flittering to Heather as she slowly pulled away from the conversation, leaving just you and Eddie amongst the loud music and compacted bodies.

“I think we go to school with most of the people here, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” He watched as you glanced around before shrugging.

 “But I don’t know a whole lot of them. Like that girl,” You pointed at a girl dressed like Molly Ringwald. “Never seen her in my life.”

“That’s—actually, I don’t know her either,” Eddie squinted as he tried to recall her from somewhere but he’d never seen her before either. “Maybe she doesn’t go to Hawkins.”

“Freaking knew it.” 

Eddie laughs again, he knew you’d be funny.

“Are you Michael Myers?” You asked and Eddie smirked.

“No, I’m Eddie Munson.”

You didn’t appreciate the joke, pinching his shoulder through his coveralls.

“Ouch! Yes, okay! I’m Michael,” He rubbed the not-really sore spot, still smirking.

“Hot?”

“Michael? I mean, he’s not really my type, I have no idea what he’s working with under the mask but he’s─”

“No!” Now you were the one laughing and Eddie’s heart kind of ached (in a good) way at the sound. He knew what that meant. “The mask, silly. Is the mask hot?”

“Oh, yeah. Kind of feel like the man in the iron mask with it on.” Precisely why Eddie probably wouldn’t be putting it back on. “What about yours?”

“It’s pretty breathable actually,” Lucky, yours had a mouth space made of mesh, allowing for some pretty easy airflow. “And it keeps my face warm.”

Yeah, but that meant Eddie couldn’t see it and he really, really wanted to. Up close.

“Plus, I feel mysterious.” You said it like it was something devious.

“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie was amused with the entire thing because you actually were mysterious, with and without the costume. To him, at least.

“Yeah, I mean I can be anywhere without actually being anywhere because people would have no clue it’s me, makes sense?”

No, but Eddie knew what you were tipsily implying.

“I get it.” 

“Oh,” you bent over, reaching down into your black boot as you pulled out a pocket knife and flicked the blade out. “I have a knife.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie grabbed it from you tucking the blade back in before he returned it, nervously looking around to make sure no one had noticed. “As hot as that is, you can’t just bring a knife to a party.”

“No, you can’t bring a knife to a gunfight.” You giggled, swaying in place.

Eddie rolled his eyes with a fond chuckle, “Damn, you’re still wrong. Don’t bring a gun to a knife fight.”

“Tomatoes, potatoes.”

“Those are also two very different things.” Were you always this adorable? 

“It’s for my protection. So if anyone tries anything, I’ll have my knife and I can stab them. Defend myself.” You tucked the pocket knife back into your boot, leaving Eddie curious as to why you didn’t seem to have any pockets under that black gown.

“So what? You just showing off for me?”

Your head bobbed, if Eddie could somehow see through your damn mask, he would’ve been enamored with the shy look on your face.

“Yeah, I mean—you look like you ‘preciate knives.”

“Oh, because I’m scary?” He got that a lot, didn’t mind the reputation at first because it kept people from messing with him but it also kept the good people from interacting with him. Not that he cared or anything.

Because he didn’t. 

“No, because you seem really cool. Look it, too. All metal-y. Suits you”

Oh fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You were nice, too. He was done for. 

He didn’t know what to say, a ‘thank you’ didn’t sound genuine enough for his liking. 

“I think you’re cool, too.”

You laughed again, threw your head back with it and Eddie wanted so badly to tear that mask and hood off your head. Needed to just get a look at you while you smiled.

“You don’t even know who I am.” You stated once you’d calmed down.

Eddie pursed his lips. He knew exactly who you were, he was also picking up on some major signs that you didn’t want him to know who you were under that mask, having realized you hadn’t bothered introducing yourself though you apparently felt comfortable enough to address him.

“You want to play a game?” He asked instead, not willing to risk souring your mood.

You gasped, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, “A game? I like games. What game?”

“It’s called, ‘Move a couple of things around so Rick thinks he’s going insane when he cleans up tomorrow’.”

“That sounds like a fun game. Let’s do it.”

You both proceed to make your way around the house, moving a couple of random objects.

You both hit his bedroom first (what kind of dumbass doesn’t lock it?), finding it thankfully unoccupied. It was shitty and small, but you both transferred everything to opposite sides, literally flipping the room. It took some work—Eddie moved the heavier of the objects and the bed was blocking Rick’s bathroom door but you were satisfied so the two of you moved onto the kitchen.

Heather came by to take you home in the middle of your planning for the area, but you insisted on staying with Eddie (he wanted to jump up and down, he was so happy and he’d promised to take care of you, something he’d planned on doing anyway but Heather was pretty fucking scary and had told him she’d hang him up like a scarecrow with his own intestines if anything happened to you).

There wasn’t much you could do with the space or the living room, given the amount of occupants, but you rearranged the inside of the fridge and bottom cabinets while Eddie tackled the drawers and top cabinets, making sure everything was where it wasn’t supposed to be.

After that, you headed outside. Then immediately went back inside when you realized how creepy the area looked.

The game and the alcohol took its toll on you and soon enough Eddie was watching over you as you curled up on the couch. He hadn’t immediately realized you fell asleep due to that goddamn mask, once he had, he’d kept everyone away from the couch. Didn’t even sleep. He only left you once to get some water and that had been when you chose to wake up. 

You’d sobered up, so he figured he could try his luck and you’d all but ran out of there when he started flirting with you. 

It stung but Eddie wasn’t ready to just give up yet. No, he couldn’t just lick his wounds and go home, he had to watch your every move the entire week after, look for dumb reasons to be in the same place as you (why the fuck did you hang out on the bleachers outside so much? It was fucking freezing) and trail after you like some pathetic dog. 

And you didn’t even throw him a bone. He’d seen you leave the cafeteria, sans Heather for once and tripped over himself in his haste to get to you.

Then you had to be completely wonderful, had offered to share your own weed with him and validated his feelings after constantly being used because he was stupid enough to trust girls who so much as smiled in his direction. 

He’d been stupid and hopeful enough to try his luck again and driven you away.

The mean girls didn’t want him, the nice girl didn’t want him, maybe he really was just destined to be on his own.

He had moved his wallowing to the bench in the woods behind the school (still had to work, regardless of how depressed he was) when Heather appeared, aggressively clearing her throat to announce her presence.

Eddie dropped his hand from his chin to deadpan in her direction, “You here to kick my ass?”

“No, I’m not here to kick your ass. I’m here to help you, Munson. She’ll kick my ass for telling you this, but I can see it’s different with you. It could be, so, listen up and listen good. Do you know Duncan Carson?”

—

You were getting ready for bed, having scrubbed your face clean of makeup and slipped into your pajamas (consisting of your christmas onesie from last year, a family tradition, since it was pretty chilly and your mom liked to freeze the entire house) when the sound of something hitting your bedroom window made you jump. You assumed some dumbass bird barreled into again until it happened once more. As you got up from your bed, slowly approaching the window, you could see a small object hit the glass. A pebble.

What the hell?You yanked the window open, barely managing to dodge the next pebble thrown at it. It knocked a glass on your dresser over instead.

“Oh, shit! My bad–did I hit you?” You leaned out the window pane to see Eddie standing outside, in your yard. He gave you a timid grin, quickly tossing the pebbles he collected out of his grasp.

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here? How do you even know where I live–are you stalking me?” You didn’t bother answering his initial question.

He glared up at you, arms crossing at your implication. “No, I’m not stalking you! Can you please come down? I-I can’t climb up there. I tried.” It was only then that you noticed your neighbor's rose bush, which extended just below the low roof of your garage, had been trampled. “What do you want?”

Eddie groaned, “I’ll tell you when you come down here!” “That sounds like something a stalker would say to lure me out of my house.” “Oh my god, look–you’re really cute but I’m gonna need you to stop being a jerk and come talk to me. Please?” Your mouth dropped open and you knew you were doing exactly what he wanted when you yanked on your shoes and stormed out of your room (quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to not alert your parents). “What are you doing here and how did you know where I live?” You demanded the moment the front door closed behind you. Eddie had moved to stand directly on your porch so you had to usher him back a little to create some space between the two of you. “Heather gave me your address,” He rushed out, wanting to focus on why he actually came. “Why can’t we be together?” Heather? Heather?! You were going to kill her. Ring her little neck. “Just because she gave you my address doesn’t mean you show up in the middle of the night─”

“It’s 7:30, cute jammies, by the way.”

“—and demand I come speak to you! I already told you, I can’t give you what you want. You’re better off.”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“I said,” Eddie stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back, “what about you?”

You stuttered to find words, mouth open and closing as you started your sentence but were too dumbfounded by his question.

“Don’t you deserve better?” Eddie prompted, his voice gentle and gaze unwavering. “You do. You deserve better. Better than Duncan The Asshole Carson.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at the mention of your ex-something, trying to force the memories away. 

Fucking Heather.

Of course she didn't just give Eddie your address. She’d told him all about Duncan. A football player in your graduating class that had befriended you last spring. Unlike most of his teammates, he wasn’t a complete dick. He was funny, charming, sweet and things turned romantic. He’d hold your hand, kiss you, take you on dates and he’d even attended your powderpuff game toward the end of the school year. Life was bliss.

Until he asked you if you thought Heather would be interested in him. Your best fucking friend.

You’d been horrified and outraged that he’d even ask you that and he quickly got upset with you, arguing that the two of you hadn’t been in a relationship. You were just having fun. 

He hadn’t been interested in you, not genuinely. He’d been interested in the attention you gave him. All those months, all those moments. All fake and tainted. He’d used you to feel important, better about himself. And when he finally felt he was big enough, he’d dropped you. Let you fall.

You’d slapped the ego right out of him and ran off to some field outside of Hawkins. The dolt was stupid enough to try and approach Heather the same night. She’d also slapped the crap out of him and drove around town until she found you, crying your heart out in the middle of nowhere. Initially, she’d feared you’d be mad at her but you reassured her she wasn’t to blame. You were, for being stupid enough to fall in love. Heather tried to comfort you and convince you otherwise but you wouldn’t hear it.

You spent the entire summer broken and you thought you’d healed since, having promised to not put yourself in a situation where you could get hurt like that again, but here you were, the cracks in your heart still very much so apparent. 

“I’ll be fine on my own.” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though you could see through the tears lining your own. You wouldn’t back down. Couldn’t. Not again. 

“Goodnight,” You turned to go back into your house when Eddie darted forward, grasping your wrist to keep you from leaving.

You glanced down at his hand then back up at him, sucking in a breath at the desperate glint in his eyes, brows pinched together in despair.

“The thing is, I can’t.” Eddie bit his lip, and you noticed the shine over his own eyes. “I can’t let you go. I could do it with the others, with Lana. I knew not to chase after them when they left. But I know I’ll regret it if I don’t chase you.

“You deserve someone who makes you feel special, someone who’d run across the school to get to your classes in time to walk you to the next, someone who will hold your hand and your backpack. Someone who wants to kiss you really, really badly. Like all the time. A-And hold you. Someone who wishes they’d talked to you a long time ago, could’ve kept a lot of heartache from happening. Someone who will help you rearrange another person’s house to prank them whenever you want. You said I deserve better than you but you’re wrong. You’re exactly what I deserve and I want to be what you deserve. I want to do it all, and only with you.”

“God, Eddie,” you wiped at the tears escaping your eyes with a sniffle, “Can you just stop? Stop saying nice things!”

“No. Never.” He used his hold on you to pull you closer and you didn’t fight him, didn’t push him away when his hands slipped to rest on your sides.

“What if this doesn’t work out? What if we get hurt?” You asked as Eddie leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m not stalker-ish enough to say I love you just yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m starting to, which means I’m probably gonna be the one that gets hurt. I’m willing to risk it if it means I get to have you, for even a little bit.”

You barely had to angle your head to kiss him. Eddie moved a hand to the side of your neck as his lips moved softly against yours, rings cool against your skin. He pulled away, just to get a glimpse of your reaction. When he saw no hesitancy, no traces of doubt in your eyes he leaned in for another taste, mouth pressing eagerly against yours. Your tongue licked at the seam of his lips and they parted for you, tongues finally meeting. 

Eddie pulled you flush up against him as you made out under the hazy glow of your porch light. The butterflies in your stomach had been revived, every single one of them was a flutter and all you could feel was bliss as the cracks in your heart faded away. 

Eddie pulled away again, panting out, “I just gotta make sure, does this mean you’re my girlfriend? Do you want me to ask? I can—fuck, no, you deserve to be asked.” 

Then he got down on one knee and you covered your eyes, grinning despite the slight embarrassment coursing through you. It was a good kind of embarrassing. The best.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Like exclusively, as in you can only do this mushy shit with me.”

“You’re so romantic,” you laughed out, still sniffling, “yes, I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Eddie cheered, leaping back to his feet. His arms wrapped around your waist as he hoisted you into the air and spun you around. You clung to him, squealing in surprise. Your shared laughter echoed down the street before it was once more silent as you kissed him.

The next day when you pulled into the school parking lot, Eddie was waiting for you, leaning up against his van.

He practically bounded over to you, pulling your lavender backpack out of your grasp, before you could stop him he’d slipped his arm through the strap and slung it onto his back, the other hand outstretched to you.

“Ready?”

You slipped your hand into his and used it to yank him closer to you. He made a sound of surprise but smirked when you pulled him down for a hungry kiss in the crowded parking lot.

It definitely caught some attention, you both smiled against each other’s lips when you heard Heather whoop in the background.

“YEAH, GET IT! GO MUNSON!”

Eddie laughed when you pulled away, giving Heather a thumbs up before he intertwined your fingers and led you into the school, flipping off a stupefied Duncan Carson on the way and you gave Lana a look as you passed her locker, happy she’d fucked up with Eddie so he was yours for the taking. You planned on keeping him.

[falinscloaca]

unhinged rant about recent events in kill six billion demons and how it isn’t actually shitty queer tropes but also very well might be but its also not finished so who knows whats actually going to happen it makes my head hurt a bit i saw a comment on twitter mentioning it and my brain internalized the FUCK outta wanting to bring up that topic somehow somewhere all this is pointless i’m going to explode. SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ksbd: here! have some (questionably oversexualized) sapphics!

ksbd: here! have a character who was continually given transfeminine motifs actually (magic) transition! (for the record unlike the other parenthesis i don’t think this was badly handled much. (magic) is not a wince.) 

ksbd twitter: hey i know this is going to look bad and i promise i hate “this trope” (???? everyone assumes it is “bury your gays” but i don’t even know if that was what he was referring to????) but you gotta trust me

ksbd: ok so one of these disappears completely (and is implicitly dead by the others dialogue + not being seen later or anything) or die trying to save protag (also.... fellas devils can revive with their masks and they can have a *chance* at preserving *some* of their identities but. the mask fucking... *melted*. its a pile of sludge. three years in the narrative past. i’m not saying her making a comeback is *impossible* but the common “oh yeah allison will put the mask back together obvi” is so stupid) (also who knows if literally precidenceless angelhumans can revive like angels do. we do not know shiiiit yet)

ksbd: the omniscient character keeps implying that everything is prewritten and is rather ambivalent on whether our “hero” has the ability to still like. DO anything significant in the grand scheme anymore. like on one hand thats sorta implied but also like the insistence that free will is an illusion doesn’t mean that the character can’t actually start trying to Accomplish gay-people-who-died-related stuff anymore LMAO. like theres still an overall “give up and move on” vibe pervading all of this (which.... are we SURE “the trope” isn’t smth about “hero uses power of love to defy death” or some related shit like “hero... is a hero in the conventional sense and saves the day”? are we SURE this is about burying your gays or fridging women or something?? did abaddon say smth on discord or somewhere????) 

ksbd twitter: for once please take a character being defined one way (omniscent) at face value jesus christ guys (both related and unrelated to the whole Rocks Fall thing its just. added flavor to that whole last barely-can-even-be-called-a-paragraph)

ksbd: ok now that this whole depressing stint into our plucky implicitly-lesbian-but-never-actually-stated-to-be(PLEASE JUST CALL YOURSELF A DYKE ALICE. I. ACK. AUTHORS USE *WORDS* CHALLENGE) protagonist withering away completely is OVER, its DONE, the ultradepression segment is moving on, here comes *some guy!* (that people are making huge assumptions about being her ex-failed-fling and then making assumptions on top of that about him being here to try to help her somehow)

like, none of this is actually inherently shitty (well, none of the things that are actually the point of this, i dislike how cio and allison were framed since first official Couples Moment but that doesn’t REALLY factor in with this). gay people dying is fucking *fine* if the plot actually works. and i’m not actually worried it won’t! it *might* fucking suck but i’m not nearly as invested in “oh this is the worst thing on earth the author BETRAYED his gay fans” as the like two or three people in comments sections and tweets i saw (thus granting me this god damn thought cabinet affliction). the hyperbole that like three (other) people i’ve seen about “here comes some guy!” (which i will continue to mention like that bc even though i don’t take issue with it its FUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) is just *delightfully* misplaced imo. but this is still stuff thats like... i don’t want to say trouble-ING but at the very least a bit trouble-SOME? its the kind of shit that’ll seem completely different (for better or worse!!) once the story actually finishes but for now is just like..... *Ehhhhhh...* 

(also a lotta people are more worked up about Cio which like, fair, she just got a god damn collectible statue made and has a massive sub-fanbase of her own, but like. she had arguably the *entire* comic being subtextually sapphic and about ~two books worth of being textually very much bi. white chain meanwhile transitions in a moment of triumph immediately before her moment of triumph gets blown the fuck up sflkdhlsdhlkhlkgsd. one (fucking LONG) fight scene later and she’s completely MIA and we have no *clue* how her dying would work out (though again thankfully for her that ambiguity means that unlike Cio her coming back to relevance one way or another is kiiiinda all but confirmed. like the possibility exists that she doesn’t get to reincarnate she’s a human now Git Gud Scrubs but that writing decision sucks so bad that not even my worst-faith version of the author would pull that lksfdjlkfsdljksfdjkl) so she’s just kinda In Limbo And We’re Supposed To Just Kinda Treat Her As “dead details pending”. it sucks ass.) 

but yeah all this is like. seeing hints of genuinely fucking terrible writing flaws but they don’t *actually* exist yet but they do but they don’t yes they don’t no they do </3. (also with a queer author i wouldn’t even bat an eye at this. like who cares. in my writing ideas i have a *terrible* track record at killing anyone but i strive for the guts to just drop pianos on my hapless transsexuals)

so all in all this was pointless but if i didn’t write it i would physically explode

[marvel-m-lee]

GKFKD I LUCID DREAMPT AGAIN LIKE 5 SECONDS AGO IT WAS SO COOL ITS DOWN BELOW

Okay so I wasn't actually trying this time. I remember being with my dad and opening the front door and Stan Lee/my grandad was there with someone else and stan Lee was on fire? Like his hair was all on fire and the dude said it needed to be kept on fire because that's what the fire fighters said to do.

I felt sick at this point because I could see the hills behind them were set ln fire too, like a massive fire that spread over the woods. It just hurt seeing it all so after a moment I went back inside with my dad and my dog (bodhi he's adorable) ran in. We were still in the kitchen and then I started to play with him.

Now here's what's important to note, the fires were so large and noticeable because it was night, like pitch-black. When I tell you I played with my dog for like 5 seconds, i mean it was QUICK. When I looked up it was day?-

Irl I have issues telling what's real or not, so I question a lot of normal things I should know the answer to, e.g the day of the week.

I stopped playing and looked over to my brother who was looking out the window.

"I wasnt playing with bodhi for that long was I?" I walked over to the side to look outside with him and he just shrugged saying something I don't quite remember.

It didn't convince me so I looked around bc I wasn't sure what was going on, then I looked at him and realised I could look at my hand, just to check if i was dreaming...

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 fingers?- wait..no way

I had another finger between my ring qnd pinky and knew what was about to happen. I get this really weird feeling when they try to push me out of my dreams. I just jumped for joy.

"I know I'm dreaming!" I said smuggly. I think they knew I was terrified because they didn't react much Just started pushing me out while i kept saying I wanted to shift to marvel.

While writing that last paragraph I almost threw up bc I realise smth... while pushing me out something else happened. One of my friends were there doing something weird, like putting jer hands together and pointing them towards me. I just remember being really really creeped out bc it was only jer in just blackness and she had REALLY long fingers. It scared the shit outta me bc I know I was somewhat conscious of my dreaming state so I wasn't sure of it was real or not. I genuinely feel sick over that part-

Anyway, so that was so fucking cool-!? I wish I could keep hold though and they stop throwing me out. Then again I did just start screaming I wanted to shift so- I don't blame them pfft. Anyway, cheers for reading <3

[jynzandtonic]

When will you pay for your heinous crimes.

For anyone reading this, I would like to apologize in advance. 

This is not part of your regularly-scheduled programming.

This is in reference to the Father Garupe Coffee Shop/Fluff/Kid-Fic/Cattle-Farming AU that some shitty anon (read: me, it was me) provoked G into writing.

Here you go, @ohiobluetip​. Consider this my Hail Mary.

You pound at the door of the humble thatch-and-stone cottage, sweat dripping from your sun-beaten brow.

The harrowing climb up the slopes of Mt. Yasumandake had made every muscle in your body scream with pain—or that could just be from the scurvy you developed on the boat journey to Hirado Island—and humidity clings to the overpriced lingerie you wear under your 17th-century nun’s habit, but you don’t give a flying fuck. You squeeze the INTERPOL badge at your hip. This is your God-given duty.   

You’re met with the black eyes of Father Francisco Garupe as the weathered wooden door creaks open, but his face is changed since you last saw him; while his slim frame and angular features remain the same, his cheeks are much plumpened from Japanese cow’s milk.

“You know what I’ve come for,” you say, your voice cold as iron.

Garupe nods somberly. “I do, sister.” 

Good. You’d worried that he would protest, that he would refuse, that he’d rather drown in the ocean than—oh, err, sorry. Too soon to joke?

“Give me but a moment, sister,” he says, peering over his shoulder into the cottage. You hear shuffling about inside. “Adoración Agustina Encarnación de Francisca! Come here.”

Confused, you watch as a young, black-eyed girl emerges from behind Garupe, offering up a small, swaddled bundle. Garupe plucks it from her tiny arms and transfers it to you. 

“The fuck?!” you ask as he places a newborn baby in your arms.

“Please hold my youngest, sister. His name is… Charlie. I will return shortly.” He turns on his heel and disappears into the interior.

Stunned, you stare down at baby!Charlie. He coos up at you softly, then promptly and violently shits his thin cloth diaper.

Before you can find a flowerbox to leave the baby in, Father Garupe returns with a perfectly-frothed whole-milk matcha latte. 

“I hope this is to your liking, sister,” he says, plucking baby!Charlie from your grip and handing you the warm, artisanal ceramic mug. “It is drinking-temperature. Jyn milked the cows this morning.”

You notice the latte art is an intricate and extremely adorable panda flipping you off.

“But pandas don’t even fucking LIVE in Japan,” you snarl.

He exhales deeply. “Jyn told me you’d say that during our morning fingerblasting session today. But pandas also don’t have fingers, yet you did not comment on that.”

“JYN NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE!”  

He hands baby!Charlie to Adoración Agustina Encarnación de Francisca and gently shoos her off, probably to go fall down a hillside or get eaten by pandas or something.

“Jyn is a child of God, now. All sins are forgiven,” he says.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Frisco,” you sneer.

“TAKE ME INSTEAD! TAKE ME INSTEAD! YOU HAVE A WHOLE CREEPY BAD PRIEST AU TO FINISH! TAKE ME INSTEAD!” He’s screaming like a madman, and it’s hurting your ears. Hmm, or maybe that’s the scurvy, too.

“SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!” you yell, sounding an awful lot like Adam Sackler from some season of HBO Girls I can’t remember the number of. “I have to get out of this shitpost right now.” 

Oh no, Jyn thinks, have I fucked this up by breaking the fourth wall and using two different ‘I’s in the same paragraph?

“Shut up, Jyn,” you say.

You can hear me?! Jyn thinks.

“Yeah, I can. And I’m outta here. Why don’t you fill some ACTUAL prompts while I respond to your 47 other shitty asks?”

I’m sick of this callout culture, Jyn thinks, but I think Garupe has some more shit to say to you.

“Fine,” you say.

“Kneel, sweet sister.” Garupe’s words are like poisoned wine dripping down your throat—intoxicating, irresistible, deadly. “I wish to bless you before you go.”

In spite of yourself, you sink down before him, the cold, rough limestone of the cottage’s threshold biting into your shins.

Parting his long, black robes, he exposes his matchstick thighs clad in acid-wash denim short-shorts. In one swift motion, he shucks the jorts down to his ankles, revealing his veiny, purple, one-and-a-half-foot long Jesuit cock. “I heard you like watersports, Sister G. Let me offer you some of my... Holy Water.”

[nocturnical]

I finally updated goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/55747219-le-francis

I’m honestly so focused on Bacstrom rn I’m not reading the Copernicus book anymore & dn if I will go back because the music of the spheres is just not as key to the plot of my current project as I thought. Finding a lot more in Bacstrom to the point where my wrist hurts too much to practice at night because I’ve been taking notes all day.

& I can’t fucking find Tale of the Body Thief so I’m off Anne Rice & on Kelley Armstrong until the gd paperback shows back up (feel like its in with my music books at the back of my office because I was last reading about when the shelf collapsed but haven’t had time to go thru, trying to rearrange my cases to find a spare shelf but so far no luck).

Got too addicted to watching YouTube chemistry videos the last couple months & got off reading which is okay but my tbr pile is only getting bigger. Also I have a whole folder of ebooks for my current WIP & I’ve been stuck on Bacstrom for some time because it’s immense & a paragraph can contain half an hr of references to chase or place.

Jealous of my friends who just destroy thick-ass Brandon Sanderson novels in a month like its nothing. 

Want to get back to writing poetry & RPG content for Call of Cthulhu but ns when I’ll have time at this point. Was working on an art & stat sheet for my Jordan Peterson Lobster Monster in fall but got wrapped up in other shit. 

Then there is my FAFO story. I’m honestly at the point where I need to pull one of my friends in to collab because or else I’ll never finish & I spent so much time writing & illustrating the storyline so far. I just hate to do that because I wanted a pure reaction from each of them when it was all done.

I still need to get back to my NaNo project too, thought I could just push thru but a dream brought a resolution to a snag in this draft & got me reading Bacstrom again where I found a huge key to the lore & it’s just been about revising this story & the next & figuring out how to finish it all in a third. Want to have these three revised, edited, & published under the pen by Dec. need them the fuck outta my head & space.

[twi-sight2020]

Bella has a Nightmare....and I’m Drinking

Listen, it’s my birthday, so i can have as much cake and champagne as I want. I can also gift you-and myself- the pleasure of getting through one of the last slow chapters before things actually get into = OH SHIT territory. That’s right, we are so close to all the big reveals I can almost taste it but first....Bella gotta Bella. So, let’s get to it. So Bella goes home and listens to some music while falling asleep. And in it she has a dream about Jacob, Mike, and Edward. In the dream Jacob and Mike are trying to lure her away from Edward, Jacob turns into a wolf, and Edward has fangs. Now, clearly, this has to do with Jacob telling her the wolf and vampire legends of the tribe, but.....Bella literally sees Jacob turning into the wolf he later becomes in book two. Gotta say...this insight kinda goes along with some of the other “odd” things about Bella that often make me wonder if there were some dropped plot lines with her somewhere along the way. I know I keep saying this, but I promise in the next few chapters I’m gonna lay out what some of those things were or-at least in my mind- seemed to be leading to. Of course, these were just my personal fan theories, nothing more. Our girl takes a shower, makes her bed, basically does everything possible to avoid doing the vampire research that she knows she probably should jump to after knowing these legends. (as a fellow procrastinator, I relate, though in her case it’s probably more out of dread than the laziness of me) Also, “free internet service” omfg, the sentence that dates this book more than any other. Also, the Quote from Rev. Montague Summers Bella finds on her Vampire website?  Yea, this guy is real. Very very real. I have his book on Vampires and Vampirism. He fully believed in the existence of Vampires and Werewolves and....lemme tell you, if you think it’s impossible to make vampires boring and dry, boy have a I a book for you. It reads like the dullest of textbooks...and I LIKE musty old books, I live for them. Bella realizes that the majority of the Vampire myths don’t particularly match with what she’s been told by Jacob...or what she’s seen  and it pisses her off, not to mention makes her feel a bit silly because ...she’s researching vampires. So she decides to go for a walk. Now, we get some pretty prose here, but not much action. Bella is going over the facts in her mind. Could Edward be a vampire?  She thinks it’s ridiculous, but at the same time, things like skipping Blood Typing day do give her pause  Then she tries to decide what to do. She knows the smart thing would be to avoid the hell outta monster boy but....she’s drawn to him and it hurts her to even consider it. Now, I remember being a teenager, hell I know even now when I’m attracted to someone it’s hard to stay away but....Bella, honey, you’ve only talked a handfull of times and he’s been a creeper most of those times. I know he saved your life but....a bit of caution would be the smart thing. But, of course, if Bella were smart we wouldn’t have this story so..... Bella has made her decision-something she said once she does she sticks to it no matter what-something we see over and over in these books. She finally gets inside around noon, works on her paper, and has a nightmare free night. She gets to school early the next day- which is warm and sunny- and Mike is super happy to see Bella. She at first like it, but then he is an uber creep and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear making her uncomfortable. Mike, baby doll, she’s not given you any sign that it’s ok to to that so...no. She then says she is doing (or rather did since she’s finished) her essay on if Shakespeare’s treatment of women was misogynistic.I find this topic interesting, and wonder if Stephanie included it because she knew some people would make the same claim about her books..... Anyway, Mike seems to have no clue what this means, and then ask Bella to go out with him. Now, dude, she turned you down for the dance, encouraged you to ask her friend, and you are....going to the dance with said friend. Bella-helpfully- points out Jessica may be upset but...seriously, Mike, honey.....no. Just....no. Jessica ask Bella to go dress shopping with her and the girls and she thinks about it but...Lauren in coming so she’s indecisive. Then she agrees to go because...Edward isn’t in school and this makes her miserable. Now this...this makes me groan a bit, i can’t lie. Again, I know, teenagers,  I was one...I mooned over people like there is no tomorrow and yes, you always have a bit of disappointment when you’re crush isn’t around but...’Spiraling downward in misery”? Nah, Bella, that me because there is only one piece of cake left and my glass is empty before I finished this chapter.  Jessica cancels her dress shopping plans because...Mike ask her out  so Bella goes to respond to her mother’s emails. Her mother, who is her “best friend”, who she has barely spoke to gets a tiny paragraph in response to her “backlog” of letters, and then Bella goes outside to read. RUDE. Like, come on guys, just....get a long distance phone plan, heesh. Now, I have to say, I do like her taste in Austen, though-imo- the hero of Sense and Sensibility is definitely Colonel Brandon . He’s the good guy, he’s not flakey, he doesn’t have secret fiancees hiding around. But, you know, she’s fixating on Edward, so I’ll give it a pass. She ends up giving up because of all the Eddies in Austen and dozing off.Charlie gets in, Bella tells him she’s going dress shopping tomorrow night and will leave food out for him. The next day is sunny so Bella moans a bit because Edwards isn’t there, but is happy that Lauren isn’t going dress shopping after all and...then they are off to shop once school ends. So we get...dreams........Mike being weird....and learn Bella likes Jane Austen. that’s...pretty much it, but next chapter we finally get to her and Edward having a conversation and shit not being ...dull. Praise God, Parts i love coming up. Now, I’m going to eat and...probably drink more. Until next time,  Stay Safe.

[gore-hovnd]

Don’t Breathe: Part Two

As per request of @hydra-trash-spot

Warning For: Toxic/Controlling Relationship, Emotional/Physical Abuse

(Also, side note, I’m literally incapable of proofreading unless things are in post format so please excuse my typos pff)

(Side Note pt 2, electric boogaloo; I edited it and now it’s not as BAD. Idk if this is gonna retag but if it does I’m SORRY, bc I’m awful and I’ve been fixing the formatting smh)

Sweat droplets rolled between his shoulders in a way that made his skin crawl as he shifted in his seat. Staring blankly at the paperwork in his hand, Jack began to read the paragraph at the top of the page for the fifth time. 

Of course there was maintenance happening on the building’s AC unit, of course today was the hottest day of the week, and of course Brock felt the need fuck him over in more ways than one by not letting him call off work for that day. When he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as a commander, Jack understood why. The STRIKE team had an urgent mission come up, they would be leaving for it in three days, and they needed everyone to be ready. But when he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as his boyfriend, Jack knew it was just Brock being the biggest dick imaginable at that point. It hadn’t been enough to drag him around the house in a dog collar that left dark, saturated bruises in its wake and made speaking a chore. It wasn’t enough to humiliate him by claiming that the bruising across Jack’s nose and beneath is eyes was from him coming into unfortunate contact with the shower rod the night before. And it wasn’t enough to make Jack come to work in a heavy jacket, zipped all the way up, in ninety degree weather to hide the bruises over his throat. Because nothing was ever enough and despite trying to stay out of Brock’s line of sight all day, Jack knew he’d always be Brock’s primary target.

“I need you to pick up training with Cap today.” Brock stated plainly while JAck shared a lunch that only one of them ate. 

Jack recoiled, looking up from the slowly cooling chicken pasta in front of him. He’d only gotten three bites in before he decided that it hurt too much to swallow. 

“Why?” Jack grumbled, his voice low and weak from both the abuse to his vocal cords as well as disuse. He hadn’t said a word to Brock all day, the anger in him once again rising, bashing against the cage of his resolve like a wild beast trying to break free. 

“‘Cause Pierce called me about havin’ another meeting this morning. I don’t got a choice here, Jackie, I already told the big guy you’d be there.” Brock explained as he scrolled through his emails at his computer. 

“Why not jus’ fuckn’ reschedule.” Jack grumbled under his breath, rising from his seat and throwing his lunch into the bin by Brock’s desk with more force than necessary. The combination of the action and his attitude had Brock looking up from his work, staring at Jack with an irritated look despite the upward turn of his lip. 

“What was that, mouth?” He asked and Jack hesitated for a second. He could challenge it, could try to put Brock in his place, but the lingering threat of the previous night’s events bred an unfamiliar fear in his chest and he pulled his gaze away. 

“Nothin’.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets before making his escape. 

***

Jack sat in the gym for twenty minutes waiting for Steve. 

And in that twenty minutes he contemplated what the hell had just happened. He’d never been afraid of Brock before. Upset? Yes. Wary? Of course. Angry? Abso-fucking-lutely, but afraid? Never. And whatever was causing that fear to fester in his chest was making him sick. 

The doors to the gym opened and Jack broke from his thoughts, staring up to meet the bright, happy smile on Steve’s face that oh-so-awfully contrasted from his own bitter mood in a way that was borderline annoying. 

“Been a while,” Steve chuckled, offering his hand to help Jack get up from his place on the floor. He took it, pulling himself up and suppressing a hiss of pain as his body ached. That brief tumble down the stairs last night must’ve taken more out of him that he originally thought. 

As the two of them readied themselves; stretching, wrapping their hands, and ultimately building dread in Jack’s stomach, he couldn’t help but lose himself again. 

“Are you gonna wear that the whole time?” Steve piped up, pulling Jack back to reality for the third time in the past hour. 

“What?” He asked, forcing his shoulder to stretch despite the strain of his muscle. 

“That jacket.” Steve elaborated, gesturing at him to emphasize. 

Jack glanced down at it, somehow momentarily forgetting he had it on, before shrugging with a nod. 

“Yeah.” 

That was all he chose to say before the two of them stepped into the ring. There he stood: in a jacket, white basketball shorts, and black athletic ankle supports, staring at Steve who wore something similar, just with a tank top instead. 

The two of them sparred for a bit and from the very beginning, Jack knew it wasn’t going to end well for him. The soreness that blanketed him only seemed to get heavier the longer he tried to force his body to move. It slowed his reactions, made it impossible to keep up with the living god that was Steve Rogers. Jack didn’t think he could take goddamn Captain America down even on a good day so trying to on a day where all of his muscles were simultaneously on fire definitely wasn’t going to work in his favor. 

And try as he might, one particularly well timed hit to his ribs had him on the floor. When he looked at the clock, he’d found that they’d been at it for a solid forty-five minutes and Jack was almost impressed with himself. That is until Steve fussed over him like a damn mother hen. 

“Shit, Rollins are you alright?” Steve asked, dropping to his knees to seemingly try and get a closer look at Jack who, in turn, waved him off as he spit his mouthguard out onto the floor. 

“M’ fine,” Jack wheezed unconvincingly as he pushed himself up with one arm, the other wrapped securely around his chest. Steve didn’t seem convinced, deciding to go for the jacket which had Jack pulling away reflexively. 

Steve paused, staring at him for a moment before he pulled the collar of the jacket down and all Jack could do was look up to avoid seeing the concerned look on Steve’s face. He let Steve unzip the jacket and pull it from his shoulders, getting a closer look. Even the gentle grazes of Steve’s fingers over the bruises on his neck had him flinching, less from actually feeling any pain and more from expecting it. What the hell had Brock done to him? And to think, for a few delusional hours, he thought he was lucky to have that man. 

“What happened to you?” Steve asked but Jack didn’t answer, responding by shrugging the jacket back over his shoulders and forcing himself to stand despite how much his body protested. “Did someone try to kill you?” 

For a single, cursory moment, Jack paused while his brain took time to do a hard reset. The suggestion felt so ridiculous that he wasn’t sure what else to do but play along with it. So he shrugged and watched as Steve shook his head in disbelief. 

“Did you file a report?” He asked and Jack released a bitter laugh. 

“What? Hell no.” He snorted. He knew that Steve’s mind was somewhere else entirely but he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like trying to file a report against Brock. He’d be killed, likely. Pierce already hated their relationship, said it was a “conflict of interest.” Jack thought it was asinine at first but now he was beginning to think Pierce, slimy bastard that he was, was right. 

“You need to, this is important!” Steve demanded. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to react and instead just shrugged it off with a quiet ‘s’ fine.’ only to earn himself a frustrated sigh from Steve. 

“It’s not fine, it’s dangerous! You know what we do, it’s...our line of work isn’t exactly a forgiving one.” Steve huffed. ‘Tell me about it,’ Jack’s thoughts chimed as he shook his head, staring at Steve with a tired look. 

“I gotta get back to work. STRIKE team ships out in three days, be ready.” His voice was monotonous and bland as he turned to head back toward the locker rooms. That’s when Steve grabbed his arm and a rush of adrenaline tore through his body with the force of a fire hose as he turned to throw a punch that Steve quickly dodged, releasing him in the process. Jack didn’t know when he started trembling but now that he noticed, he couldn’t calm his nerves. The sad look that Steve gave him did nothing more than ignite an angry fire within him and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that he wanted to fight again. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, I can help you.” Steve offered, taking a step forward and offering a gentle hand, only to have Jack grab hold of his wrist with an unnecessarily intense grip. 

“Ever stop to think I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Rogers?” Jack growled. “Ever stop to think I might just need your head outta’ my ass?” 

With a grimace, Jack shoved Steve back and turned without a second thought, zipping his jacket up as he retreated to lick at the wounds rubbed raw by Steve’s pity. 

***

Going through a week long mission with Steve, while simultaneously trying to hide the bruises Brock gave him, had been absolute hell. So it was understandable that all Jack wanted to do when he got home was sleep. Unfortunately for him, all Brock wanted to do was fuck. 

“I’m serious, no.” Jack growled, pushing Brock’s hand from his hip only for that same imposing hand to latch right back on. 

“Oh, c’mon, Jackie, I need you inside me.” Brock purred, licking at Jack’s throat. By then, the bruises had become a sickly yellow and were faint enough for Jack to stop wearing hoodies and jackets to hide them. The rest of his body healed accordingly and things could go back to being relatively normal, something Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted. Because Brock made him hate normal. 

“I said I don’t want to.” Jack said more firmly this time, finally managing to shove Brock back on his haunches. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Jack held Brock’s glare before his commander finally scoffed and stood up from their bed with a huff. 

“You know, you seriously make me wanna fuckin’ hit you sometimes.” Brock growled as he left the room, undoubtedly planning to sleep on the couch. He always slept on the couch when he was sick of looking at Jack, when seeing Jack made him angry. He knew this, he knew Brock got mad when he said no, knew that Brock didn’t like it when he refused anything, especially sex, and knew that Brock wanted to hurt him because of it. But Brock had never actually said it aloud before. And for whatever reason, actually hearing it was unsettling. 

He didn’t sleep well that night and when he woke up the next morning, he found that Brock had seemingly dropped the entire thing. He was bad about that, about ignoring any sort of argument they had, but Jack didn’t really have any other choice but to deal with it. 

Over time, Brock got worse. Just as he always had. After a while his threats stopped being threats and he stopped warning Jack all together. Sometimes Jack could anticipate it but most of the time, it felt entirely random. Brock would smack him in the back of his head, shove him around, punch him, even, if he was in a particularly bad mood. And Jack was at a loss. 

There was a war waged in Jack’s mind, his emotions tumbling between hating Brock and adoring him. Brock was a terrible man; he was violent and volatile and fear had become a familiar friend to Jack in the months that had passed since the choke chain incident. But every few days, he would be gentle and kind and he’d make Jack feel like nothing short of a god. And for those few, fleeting hours, Jack was on cloud nine. 

But the good times never seem to last and eventually he was sick of making up excuses to stay. 

“Come on, Jack, yer gonna leave over that? Over a love tap?” Brock growled as he followed Jack through their home. 

“Does it matter?” Jack grumbled, shoving some of his clothes into an old backpack. “I’m a grown man, I can leave if I want to.” 

This response, however, wasn’t good enough. Brock’s hand was almost instantly around his arm and Jack recoiled, throwing his elbow back and landing a hit across Brock’s mouth, effectively bloodying his lip. 

“Sonuva-” Brock barked, staggering back when Jack landed another hit on his face. Spitting a mixture of blood and spit out onto the dark carpet, Brock wiped a hand across his chin before glaring at Jack, who was frozen. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind in that moment and somehow he was both proud of and angry with himself. But both of those were overshadowed by the terror that crashed through him like a startling rush of electricity when Brock advanced on him. 

The two of them fumbled around for awhile, battering and bruising each other until eventually, Brock got his hands around the back of Jack’s head pulled, bringing his knee up to collide with Jack’s nose. 

A sickening crunch filled the air and the two of them paused as Jack covered his face, panting while he tried to gather himself. Sitting down on their bed, leaving a bloody handprint on their white comforter, Jack tried to sniff but he couldn’t. Blood dripped down his mouth the same way it had months prior when Brock had pulled him off of the couch and all he could do was wonder to himself why he was stupid enough to stay so long. 

“Let’s go.” Brock growled under his breath, taking hold of Jack’s bicep and forcing him to stand like he was a child. Jack shrugged him off, even going so far as to shove him away, before the two of them trudged out to their car. 

The ride to the hospital was silent and when they got there, Jack refused to explain how it happened. It wasn’t that he was trying to protect Brock, he was just so exhausted… He didn’t have the energy to make up excuses or answer any questions. 

Luckily, it only took fifteen minutes for a doctor to be made available for him. Unluckily, Brock followed him back into the room. And as if his broken nose wasn’t punishment enough, Brock continued to berate him. 

“You jus’ dunno when to quit do you?” Brock growled, his arms crossed over his chest. His lip was swollen, the gash that ran through it shining angry and red. Drops of blood stained the collar of his grey shirt and in that moment the two of them stared at each other with equally intense looks of pure hatred. 

“What?” Jack snapped, trying desperately to convince himself that Brock wasn’t worth a trip to prison. 

“You don’t know how to fuckin’ quit, Jack! You always do this! You piss me off, then gimme that pissy little look when I get mad! This shit wouldn’t happen if you didn’t get me so fucking riled up!” Brock barked and all Jack could do was laugh incredulously, disbelief filling him as he stared Brock in the eye. 

“No, this shit wouldn’t happen if you weren’t such a fucking psychopath.” Jack hissed and just like that, Brock was on him again. First, there was a knee to his ribs, then a fist under his jaw, but Jack wasn’t going to lay down and let Brock beat on him anymore. He’d finally decided that everything Brock did to him was complete and utter bullshit. It wasn’t warranted and he wasn’t ungrateful when he got upset about it. And for the love of God, he didn’t fucking deserve it.

So he fought back. He kicked and he growled and he fought with everything he had. Landed a few good hits too. At some point, the doctor must’ve come in to the two of them fighting and called security. They pried Brock off of Jack, his eye swollen shut and his lip re-busted-open. Jack grimaced, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him while he was restrained. But the security guards were too quick to get him out of the room.

The doctor didn’t ask Jack any questions, simply got him cleaned up, reset his nose, and offered him a phone to call someone. Jack accepted the offer with a grateful, albeit quiet, ‘thank you.’ And he sat for an hour contemplating whether or not he should do what he wanted to do. He didn’t really have much of a choice, though, did he?

“Hello?” Answered Steve’s familiar voice over the other line. 

“If I ask you to come pick me up from the hospital will you promise not to ask questions?” Jack asked. He never was good at easing into a conversation. 

“The hospital? What happened? Are you hurt?” Steve immediately started and all Jack could do was sigh and weigh what options he would have if he decided to hang up. 

“Steve, please.” He begged quietly. He wasn’t proud of the pleading tone in his voice but he couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long time. The quiet that fell over them was the kind that was deafening and suffocating at the same time and he wanted nothing more than to scream just to fill the space. But before he could, Steve started talking again. 

“I’ll be there.” He said softly. 

And he was. In twenty minutes, Steve was at the hospital and the second he saw Jack, it looked like his entire world had been crushed. An odd look of knowing crossed his face as he flicked his head and without a second thought, Jack followed.

After another wordless car ride, Jack found himself in a new place. The unfamiliar space of Steve’s apartment left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, like a rabbit in a field of rabid dogs. But Steve’s gentle hand guided him and it sickened him that his mind was already waiting for that softness to be replaced with anger and pain. But nothing happened and Jack scolded himself for thinking something would. 

They sat on the couch with the same silence that had hovered over them on the phone weighing tension on their shoulders and Jack once again felt the urge to make noise so it wouldn’t feel so heavy on his chest. But just as before, Steve came to the rescue to fill the silence before Jack had to. 

“I guess this is how Bucky always felt when he saw me all beat up.” Steve tried to chuckle and Jack couldn’t help the little snort that left him. 

“Guess so.” Jack grunted in response, sighing as he refused to meet Steve’s eye. It was then that an arm slowly wrapped around him and with cautious curiosity, Jack let it happen, willing himself not to flinch. He half expected other advances to be made but nothing ever came, and he liked it that way. 

Steve turned the T.V. on and for a while, Jack zoned out while late night sitcoms flashed on screen with mediocre, cheesy jokes filling the quiet with a comfortable drone. And eventually, as Jack grew too tired to ignore the exhaustion any longer, he rested his head on Steve’s shoulder and found a relieving sense of peace when Steve leaned on him too. 

And for the first time since he’d met Brock fucking Rumlow, he felt safe.

[netlifxandcastielclosed]

Fic where Cas and the reader go trick or treating together?

“I don’t think it’s a wise choice, Y/N,” Cas said deeply, imagining every dangerous possibility that can happen from ringing stranger’s doorbells.

“It’s a human tradition, Cas! The Celts thought the barrier between our world and the world of ghosts and spirits got really thin on this day. So they threw a big party to try and scare them away! And don’t worry about going door to door! We do that all the damn time when we are working a case.” 

Cas furrowed his brows in confusion as you slipped on your costume. The one you had picked out for him had not moved an inch from his clenched fist. He was overly concerned about the fabric being too revealing.  

“And where am I suppose to hide my angel blade in these?” Cas stuffed his thick thighs into fuzzy black tights that had none of the pockets he’d grown accustomed to in his trench coat. 

“Here, give it to me. I’m bringing a big bag. More room for candy,” you said gleefully. 

Now that the two of you were fully dressed, Cas picked up his plastic candy bucket that was shaped like a giant flower and the extra pillowcase you suggested packing, for which he did not know the purpose. He followed you through the bunker hallways and up to the front room. Sitting doing research and avoiding all possible reminders of the holiday was Sam. Across from him sat Dean eating his second dinner of the night. Dean’s smile stretched from ear to ear when he saw you both walk into the room.

“Sammy, you gotta get a load of this,” Dean nearly choked on his doughnut burger hybrid and almost fell out of his seat.

“You know how I feel about Halloween. I want no part of this,” Sam grumbled. 

“No, really. Sammy. You don’t want to miss this.”

Sam reluctantly peeled his eyes away from his laptop and saw his two best friends standing side by side in giant fuzzy bee costumes. You, with that typical worry-free sparkle your eyes and Castiel looking more puzzled than ever before. It’s worth noting that this is the first smile Sam had cracked a smile on Halloween night in years.  

“Well don’t the two of you look just…” Sam started to say.

“(Y/N) chose this costume for me. Do you think it will scare away the spirits,”  asked Cas genuinely. “I do like the honeybees in the garden but I have noticed many humans are terrified of them. I’ve packed some salt and holy water in my bag in the instance this doesn’t work out”. 

“As long and your bumble butts bring me back some candy, I don’t care how y’all dress,” said Dean trying to pretend like he wasn’t a little jealous of being able to go trick or treating. Truthfully, he was a little turned on seeing you and Cas in bee costumes. He thought to himself, you both could buzz on into his room later that night when Sammy was asleep. 

—

Before walking up to the first door of the night, you explained to Cas what to say and how to hold out his bucket for candy. He only slightly heard what you said but didn’t bother to ask you to repeat yourself. He was more worried about the trick part of the night and he assumed he could deal with it once it came around. 

DING DONG!

“Tricks nor Treats,” Castiel grumbled deeply, arms stuck straight out to the old woman who wondered why a fully grown man dressed as a bee was out trick or treating. 

“It’s ‘Or’ not ‘Nor’, lovey. We’ll try it again at the next place,” you said sweetly. “Thank you for the candy, M’am. Happy Halloween. Stay safe.”

As you walked back down the path, Cas sprinkled some salt on the uneven cobblestone and murmured some Enochian under his breath. 

Door number two. DING DONG!

“No tricks, just treats, please.” 

You shot a look at Cas that would make any celestial being cower. His shoulders stiffened and then he shook off the chill that went down his spine. He thanked the couple at the door and shuffled back down the driveway. More salt sprinkled and on to the next house. 

A few blocks later and a pillowcase filled to the brim with candy, Cas had a completely different look across his face. He was more eager to keep going after each house but your feet had other ideas. It had a been a few hours and you were more exhausted than when you fought that vamp last week. 

“Last house, okay? I’m ready for bed and I’m sure Sam is tired of hearing Dean complaining about wanting candy.”

“Of course. We’ve managed to avoid all of these tricks so far. Now might be a good time to call it a night.” 

Both of you walked up to the last house and when Cas went to knock, the door was ajar. It swung open after the first attempt at a knock. No lights were on in the hallway but a dim glow was coming from the kitchen. 

“Hello,” Castiel cautiously ask. “Trick or treat?” 

“Is anyone home? Your door was unlocked. Hello?” You took a step forward, one foot on the threshold of the door. A smelly wave of sulfur hit you and you found yourself abruptly being dragged into the house by an invisible source.

“(Y/N)! What’s going on? Where’d you go?” Cas began to panic slightly. He instinctively reached for his coat pocket in hopes of grabbing his angel blade, only to feel polyester fuzz on his hands.  A second later he realized it was at the bottom of his candy filled pillowcase. He dumped the candy on the floor and flew into the kitchen. He found you stuck on the ceiling above the stove. An angry demon sat at the counter examining a plastic decorative skull.

“Ah, my favorite time of year, Halloween. Teenagers dressing up as monsters and playing games to summons us from the depths of Hell. It’s quite entertaining, really.” 

“The trick,” Cas said pointedly. 

“And just as my luck would have it, the one house that decided to summon me would be the one I find you and your human pet, Castiel.” The demon chuckled, stood up and continued to ransack through the kitchen. 

“Who are you,” growled Castiel.

“You don’t remember me, angel? I thought we shared an intimate moment all that time ago. It’s not every day that an angel and a demon breathe the same air and live to tell the tale.” 

Castiel looked up at you with a questioning look to make sure you were not hurt. Your mouth was sealed shut and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t move an inch. But the look in your eyes gave Cas some peace, and no visible blood or injuries was a good sign. 

“I remember you,” Cas recalled, “and I also remember what I said I’d do if I ever saw you again. I sent you back to Hell with Crowley and he said…”

“The King is dead, angel. There’s nothing to fear in Hell anymore. It’s all free rein and I don’t have to answer to anyone anymore. Not even you. So here I am. Even I deserve a little fun, don’t I?” 

It had been a long while since you’d dealt with your average everyday demon. Most hunts were about saving the world these days but ever since Crowley died more stray demons were running amok. Castiel was tired. ‘Not today’, he thought to himself. He wasn’t going to let some low-level demon ruin this night for him.

The arrogant demon parted his lips to speak again but before he could get a sound out, Castiel’s hand was pressed to his forehead. Bright, blinding light and some dissipating black smoke filled the room and the next thing you remember is being carried out of the house in the arms of your angel. 

—

Your eyes blinked open and the first thing that comes into focus is Dean with a pile of empty candy wrappers sprawled across the table. Sam was asleep in the chair next to you, hunched over with drool dripping down his chin from waiting for you to wake up. 

“Welcome back, (Y/N),” smiled Castiel.

“Cas? Wha- What happened? Where’s the demon?” 

“Don’t worry your fuzzy little ass about that, (Y/N),” said Dean mouth full of fun-sized Twix bars. “Cas saw you sticky stuck on that ceiling and stung the crap outta that demon.” 

“Enough with the bee puns, Dean,” Sam murmured groggily, “He’s been at it all night since you guys got back.” 

When you went to stretch out the pain in your muscles, you realized you were no longer in costume but in soft pajamas. 

“How did I,” you ask concernedly.

“Cas,” smirked Dean, “I offered to help out but,” knowing very well Cas hung the bee costumes in Dean’s room for later, “he said it would bee inappropriate. It’s too bad. I would have loved to get a peek at your boo-bees. I’ll be the bird and you two can bee the bees!”

“Dean,” Sam shouted disgustedly.

“I’ve pollen for the both of you so buzz on in and bee mine,” winked Dean.

“We’ll never hear the end of this, will we, Cas,” you sighed.

“I’m afraid not, Honey,” Castiel said without hesitation. 

Dean stood up, smiled that never-ending shit-eating grin until Sam ran to his room, locked the door and put in earplugs. 

—–

NOTE: Ha! I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t take me days to write this.  I legit wrote maybe a paragraph a day because I procrastinate more than anyone I know haha ALSO I didn’t intend for it to be this long but it’s cute so yeah. Halloween is my jam, yo! also tagging @imamotherfuckingstar-lord because I mentioned I was writing :PP.S. I didn’t proofread this so if there are errors OH FUCKING WELL 

Happy Halloween, Bitches!

[imoverit]

My first post! I’ve never done something like THIS before!! I don’t even know what to do, where to begin, what to say, I’m not anything special!! Nobody wants to hear how I really feel and on top of that NOBODY REALLY cares how I feel anyways, so what’s the point??? Why?? Well after a very VERY rough Super Flower Moon Phase here at the beginning of the month, and after all relationship issues and personal issues and just everything, LIFE!! Everything is just so fucking crazy right now that I feel I absolutely GOTTA tell this person EXACTLY just how I feel about EVERYTHING.

I feel it already turning into one of those “regrets” where when your 90, sittin on the porch rocking away and you start to think about that one thing that just eats away at you for not saying anything when I had the chance to say SOMETHING and for whatever the reason, I chose not to say it or she’d stop me soon as she realized REAL HONEST TRUE FEELINGS were comming out of my mouth, BOOM everything, including extreme violence (a few times) ANYTHING and EVERYTHING TO STOP ME from saying BABE, I LOVE YOU!! No matter what, She just would not let me tell her my true feelings. Like she was embarrassed by it, like she didn’t deserve to be told she’s beautiful or that she didn’t deserve to be loved by someone or maybe it was, hey you said something mean and/or hurtful to me and now you “love” me alla sudden?

Well actually I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!!! Sometimes people get so angry or frustrated over SOMETHING so SMALL and STUPID and take it out on or direct their frustrations at somebody else. They truly didn’t mean anything by it!! They still prepare the Keurig for you multiple times a day, and they STILL make the bed for you EVERY night, my actions show you I love you. Just cuz I was pissed the dog shit on the floor again and I angrily said to grab the paper towels for me don’t mean I DONT LOVE YOU!!!! Frustrated. That’s what a significant other is sposta do. PUNCHING BAG!!! But when you suffer from Anxiety and CPTSD and maybe a mood swing disorder or something like that, it’s A WHOLE NOTHER LEVEL!!! You, sometimes, even violently, snap on your significant other! For what appears to be no reason at all!!! Driving down the road, wind blowing thru your hair and boom, our plans change instantly!! 6hrs into an 8hr road trip and we’re turning right back around to go back home!! Only to get home and significant other is now even more furious that, I actually drove all the way home (she told me too remember) and ruined the weekend! Can’t go back now, missed check in we won’t get there till tomarrow night and then leave the next day nope I’m done I’m so over this and done...... (I’ll spare you all). Mean while the only reason I turned around and ACTUALLY drove the 6hrs in silence maybe a song or 2, but mostly silence, I turned around because if I hadn’t my life woulda required life saving measures!!

And I just don’t know what to do!! I know she’s trying!! She’s still alive but if it weren’t for me being there one night here not TOO long ago, she would have not been with us today!! And I guess that’s what has me the most “INSANE” and I speckt that’s why I’m here typing away for no one too read!!! It just IM IN LOVE WITH THIS WOMAN!!!! Despite all the bullshit despite misunderstandings, Miscommunication, despite EVERYTHING, name calling, verbal death threats, “”WISHES” of death upon her”, cops and a PFA hearing, that she knows DEEP DOWN INSIDE that I WOULD NEVER PHYSICALLY MENTALLY OR VERBALLY ABUSE HER like the monsters before me who hurt this amazingly beautiful strong amazing woman!! Yeah I know, so cliche, amazing...beautiful, it’s like if your in a relationship your “required” to say those things. Just like “I LOVE YOU” 3 words so powerful yet so over said that nobody feels or believes that their significant other “ACTUALLY LOVES” THEM anymore!! Well that’s where the old saying. ACTIONS speak louder than words!!!!! I’m still here, SHOWING her I AM STILL IN LOVE WITH HER despite of what I said to her. I was frustrated and angry at the whole situation and angry at myself for not doing nothing but I’m reality there is absolutely NOTHING NOT 1 FUCKING THING I COULD do about any of it. She was already pushing me out the door when I blew up and took my frustrations out on her. Well you know what I’m sorry your telling me, it’s period week, I love and miss you truly I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU then when I say you been saying that for a month now why haven’t you seen me. We’re on your time schedule here. If I come over it’ll prolly end in a fight for “showing I care” but yet you tell me after I text you first for the day, I was just thinking about you too ☺️😘 “BEFORE” you texted me. Can’t wait to see you. Whoop whoop score for me!! She’s wet right now just thinking about me!! WRONG. Never did find out what was up. I confronted her about it couple days later and complete blow up avoid the situation evade deflect evade anger evade run,(eventually was 100% blocked within the next 10mins) deflect those ain’t about me, shes crying now, I hope you find the happiness your looking for some day. I’m sorry I’m not the girl your looking for it was never me it will never be me. “Basically” wait for my call but don’t wait for me you need to heal sounds like your trying to heal i really do hope you find the happiness your looking for.

Oh shit. I forgot All about this app. SHE called me earlier!! As I was typing up that last paragraph she fucking called me!!! Fuckin surprised the fuckin shit fuck outta me lemme tell ya!! Only wanted a number for a dood so she could get her car “inspected”!! And I’ll stop there for the night. I need some guitar therapy!!! Rough 2020 so far. Stay Well and stay medicated, stoned, blazed, high, happy mad sad whatever, just STAY IT.

[cs-discourse]

hi mewlin! (and everyone else)

ya girl flower over here, ready to take apart and commentate on your submitted post. I would send a personal message but I realized there are things I want to tell this whole community as well. anyway im gonna get started.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not transphobic and I don't support transphobia. I'm going to put it out there before someone comes in and claims those things.

"I have slightly changed my views since the original post about me was made. Was it because of you guys? Absolutely not, don’t even try and think that you’re that special, because you’re not. [...] You don’t deserve anything for the shit you’re doing here."

Do I agree that educating calmly is better than being hostile? Yes. Do I think harassing and wishing death upon anyone is valid? No. This is the perfect example of why telling someone off shouldn't be paired with harass/death-wishing sentiments. Imagine yourself being attacked in a situation and being told to "die along with your beliefs", would you want to listen to the other party? No, right? I mean, why the fuck would you listen to someone who told you you were a stupid dumbass shit who deserved to die, right? Mewlin literally didn't listen to us because she thought we were hostile (although Mewlin, did you really read all the comments on Bailey's post? I know some were less aggressive than others but I doubt you read any/all of them and made the quick assumption that everyone on the salt blog is a piece of shit or smth).

"I’ve seen on MULTIPLE occasions people say I’ve said trans people don’t deserve rights, and they deserve to die. I would apologize in an INSTANT if you guys found actual, legitimate proof of me saying that."

post/182851960423 was the closest I could find to screenshots of your transphobia. while yes, based on the screenshots you didn't say trans people don't deserve rights or deserve to die, these were still proof of transphobia. (I do also remember there was a scenario where someone said you would want to tell a couple that trans people didn't deserve right or smth? I can't find any post on it though so don't take my word for it, I'd love if anyone had screenshots in the event I wasn't dreaming)

also in a later paragraph you say "Have I ever personally, now take note of that word, PERSONALLY, attacked a transgender person?" Does that assume that you have actually attacked a transgender before, albeit not personally? maybe online or smth? hmmmm.

((soz i don't have anything on your second point about mentioning gays, so I can't say anything about it))

"You can say what you want, oh, you’re normalizing transphobia, oh, your opinions hurt people so you can’t have them, oh, this and that. Shut. The fuck. Up. If you seriously think a different opinion about you sensitive, sensitive ass trans people deserves getting death wishes and threats, then ALL of you need serious help. Serious. Help. You disgust me. I am. One. Single. Person. Who doesn’t understand transgenderism and is confused and slightly disturbed by it."

First of all, Mewlin I,,, calling people sensitive over transphobia isn't helping you win anyone's side or proving your point sweetie hnngh. Good for you to admit being confused, but uhhHH trans people are obviously upset by transphobia. Also I'm confused, first you call out people who tell you you're normalizing transphobia, then you immediately move over to those who wish death upon you? Who exactly are you calling sensitive? Who exactly are you telling to "Shut. The fuck. Up."? The construction of your sentences make it seem like you want to blame everyone calling you out on your transphobia. Like,, you know, the people are right with you and your friends normalizing transphobia, if that whole point flew above your head. You say you're thankful for people educating you yet also tell them to stfu when they merely say you're normalizing transphobia and hurting people so um. are you really listening or just thankful there are people who aren't as angry as others are?

"Fourth, for those people who said I can’t wave the bi pride flag because ‘OhHhH sHe DoEsN’t DeSeRvE tO’- shut the fuck up. Alright? Alright. You do NOT speak for the whole fucking community, the flags don’t fucking belong to you, you entitled pieces of shit. [...] I am bisexual. I’m apart of the fucking LGBT+ community, so I get to wave the fucking bisexual flag all the fuck I want."

You can't be a part of the LGBT+ community if you don't support trans people. The 'T' is literally right there.

"Fifth, lol my life doesn’t revolve around this place of pure hatred."

What was the point of this whole paragraph? XD

"Sixth, you guys are disgusting for more than just demonizing me over a fucking opinion. You’re disgusting for also targeting my friends, who have done NOTHING WRONG, and giving them a bad name. What the fuck is wrong with all of you?? What makes you think it’s okay to do this to other people, but oh, nobody can touch you??"

Yall are honestly confusing the shit outta me. Bailey thought cancelling out transphobia with "a sweet personality" was alright when they're two separate things. What they said was completely wrong, so uh your friends have obviously done SOMETHING WRONG. I'm also not going to delve further with Bailey normalizing transphobia (see post/185601790264/: "Obviously I don’t agree with her beliefs, I think transphobia is nasty. BUT that doesn’t make her a bad person.") because you just mentioned that people calling you out on normalizing transphobia should "Shut. The fuck. Up".

"I’ve seen your comments about 'we’d stop if she stopped saying shit like this’. I would love it if you could give me an example of something I’ve said since the original post came out."

which original post? also there was the thing about you and terfs just the other day, right?

and lastly:

"NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU are doing anything good for your community. You should all be ashamed of the way you’ve handled this."

I'm not ashamed, but rather feel defeated for everyone who at least tried to make a point to you, Mewlin, without being hostile, me included. It feels shitty to constantly live like my time and effort trying to educate people is put to nothing but shit. Your hasty generalization that NOT A SINGLE ONE OF US is doing good for the community makes me feel so fucking terrible, and I hope you're happy with that. I understand where you're coming from but god, if this isn't the nail in the coffin for me then I really don't know what is. I personally live in the most conservative country in the entire damn world (yes, we are the only country without divorce) and I feel like I'm absolutely going no where spewing shit people won't want to even hear because all their brains can process is that they're being under attack and nothing matters but their own echo chamber. Sometimes it's tiring and though I don't advocate for it, somehow I understand how others have resorted to more "frustrated" approaches.

We're all tired of not being listened to.

On a last note: I was debating on posting this since I was scared but it's whatever at this point. Feel free to educate me on stuff if I got things wrong. I'm open for a talk.

- from a tired yet trying advocate of so many things, f1owercrown.

[skamfairy]

Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone Movie - Thoughts after watching for the first time

AHHHH I FINALLY WATCHED IT, this is hella long so i’m gonna jump right in but also if you are curious but can’t be bothered to read this much just scroll down to the end to read a short paragraph on my overall thoughts ashjhjsa HERE WE GO

OKAY SO opening credits are rolling and i’m FINE but then THIS SHOT opens the movie and i’m losing my shit

I legit started giggling uncontrollably and my heart started racing because it finally hit me THAT I WAS FINALLY SEEING IT ALL ON SCREEN like it’s happening and the vibe really hit me right then THE PRIVET DRIVE SIGN THE OWL ALL OF IT this opening felt SO GOOD it felt so right because the first sentence in the book is about the dursley’s living on privet drive and the owl and the music just give it that instant ominous magic vibe i love it i love it 

and then we get this bloody shot of cat McGonagall

and we watch Miss McGonagall LITERALLY TRANSFORM FROM CAT TO WOMAN THROUGH THE SHADOW ON THE WALL

AND it’s honestly the coolest thing i’ve ever seen i seriously loved this and i’m SO SO SO GLAD THEY KEPT THIS IN IT REALLY KICKS OF THE MAGIC like for me this really made me go “YES YES YES YES YES WE’RE HERE WE’RE DOING THIS” and from an artsy POV, it was just honestly a beautiful and cool shot. 

THEN THE TITLE

i’m sorry but I’VE GOT to talk about this right now so i don’t have to address it again but like THIS TITLE REALLY FUCKING HYPES YOU UP seriously, the music the lightning ALL OF IT it’s so loud and compelling and it makes you so excited. if you aren’t one to get hyped up by street signs and cats turning into women like me, then THIS will hype you up GURANTEED i’m in love with it i felt the chill go through my body RAIN STARTED POURING OUT MY WINDOW!! (i’m not lying you can ask my friend as my witness she knows cos i bragged about it several times during the stream sahsahj) anyway just saying IT MAKES YOU READY FOR MAGIC

I’m gonna put a keep reading here because we’re just getting started and this is gonna be long as hell so enjoy if you keep reading and bye angel! if you’re not shjjhas

anyway the light of our lives wakes up in his closet and i am THIS close to calling child protective services and get him outta there but,,,,,,,you know, we got a movie to watch. 

Dudley is bloody horrible, but then his dad literally threatens harry with car keys so we’ve got bigger fish to complain about i guess

WE GO TO THE ZOOO! (YAAAAY)

and can i just say my fave part of this isn’t just the fact that the snake NODS when harry starts talking to it (although it’s high up there) but when instead of freaking out and going hOLY SHIT I CAN TALK TO SNAKES??? WHATS THAT ABOUT??? he just says very thoughtfully “i’ve never talked to a snake before” sjhashjasjh i love this kid i swear i’m sahjhjsa best kid to find out he’s a wizard honestly. he doesn’t blink an eyelid shashjahjs 

Dudley gets thrown overboard into the enclosure and when the snake says thanks to harry as he slithers on by, harry replies with a sly “anytime” like sure just call me whenever you need me to throw my cousin into an inhabited enclosure at the zoo, mate, i’m your man. sjhahjsah i love this i just,,,,,i really love this kid.

HARRY GETS HIS LETTER! (i love this shot)

and uncle vernon loses the plot and can i just say, how bloody boring you’ve got to be to hate magic? like can you imagine? i think harry seems to agree with me, judging by his cold hard side eye at uncle vernon nailing the mail box shut

seriously i love him so much (drink everytime i gush about harry, ya gonna get hammered ;) ) 

finally Harry makes a wish on his birthday and in return he gets a hagrid breaking down his door and telling him he’s a wizard.

IM A WHAT

Hagrid and harry hit up diagon alley and please let me spend a second to GUSH over the beauty of this set?? i’m just WOW like it amazes me how much work must have gone into this movie and it truly paid off. like it’s so so so gorgeous and not just the set, but the music in this scene and the whole vibe of it is so positive and magical and it truly gave me such a warm feeling in my belly im just im so in awe. okay okay i’ll shut up sahjsajh 

Harry finds out he’s rich, gets traumatised by the man giving him his wand which i must say WAS SUCH A COOL SCENE LIKE IT WAS SO FUN SEEING HIM TRY OUT THE DIFFERENT WANDS AND THEN HOW HE LITERALLY LIGHTS UP AND THE WIND BLOWS WHEN HE FINDS HIS BROTHER WAND IM it was sooooo cool AND he gets given hedwig by hagrid ❤️ YAY

im sorry i’m literally crying sajhhjsa at hagrid deadass abandoning harry at the train station it’s so funny sahjjhsa poor harry THANKFULLY he finds my fave family in the world because Mrs Weasley is basically shouting MUGGLES ashjahsj (best way to spot a wizard asjhasjh) and then I LOSE MY SHIT BECAUSE

FRED AND GEORGE FRED AND GEORGE FRED AND GEORGE IM LIVING I LOVE THEM SO MUCH “he’s not fred! I AM” “honestly woman you call yourself our mother” “I’m only joking, i am fred” sahjsahjhjsahjas ICONIC THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY IM SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM HELP IM SO ASHJSAJHHJASHJAS you guys know how i feel about them im just AHHHH

also i need to add that I LOVE MRS WEASLEY!!!! she’s casted SO SO SO WELL so much better than i would have ever imagined this actress is so warm and motherly and she’s just perfect she’s truly perfect for mrs weasley im so so so happy with her ❤️

WE GET TO THE TRAIN

love this shot, so beautiful and magical and poignant i’m feeling so many things right now 

RON AND HARRY MEET AND I LOVE THEM they are so pure my angels 💖 hermione shows up and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HER like all three of them play it so so so well its so funny and watching it gives me nothing but warm feels THEY ARE SO CUTE and the facial expressions all around are amazing im in love with the trio 💖

Draco tries to befriend harry and harry SASSES HIM and it’s glorious, dumbledore welcomes us to hogwarts and tells the kids that they’ll die a painful death if they go the the third corridor and this is their response

sajhshjsajhasjh 

sorting happens, its AWESOME but not in alphabetical order ashjsajh seriously its such a fun scene i love (every scene is fun) the hat barely touches dracos head and says he’s slytherin and snape makes harry’s scar hurt. when he winces ron asks “what’s wrong” and harry replies “Nothing, im fine” 

prepare for this to be a theme for the series. 

OKAY but imagine if harry was put into slytherin after rejecting draco like that sahjsajh how awkward. anyway

THE GHOSTS AND THE PAINTINGS ARE SO COOL AND THE COMMON ROOM !! 

This shot here is the most purest thing you will ever lay eyes on 💖 im genuinely tearing up. i want to stare at this forever

CLASSES START, transfiguration is awesome, potions is not. 

SNAPE GETS MAD AT HARRY FOR TAKING NOTES??? he was so excited to learn about potions and snape just ruins that excitement im sad. 

at dinner seamus, a 11 year old.....is trying to turn water into rum.....asjhahjahjs

THE MAIL SHOT IS STUNNING

GORGEOUS 

when ron gets hit in the face by his broom harry laughs and ron says in the most cute fond voice ohhhh shut up haaaaryyyy AND ITS SO PURE I LOVE

HARRY MAKES THE QUIDDITCH TEAM, i continue to fall in love with mcgonagall AND WOOD I LOVE HIM AND HIS ACCENT 

harry learns his dad also played quidditch 

and this is the part where my friend allie starting yelling CHASER HE WAS A CHASER hjshjsahjsahj 

we meet fluffy and he’s adorable!!!

im crying at theo just blowing up his feather shjjsahjhsa

ron hurts hemione’s feelings, the trolls gets out they save her life and BOOM BESTIES that scene was awesome!!! and so funny to watch i love them but the real star of this whole thing is dracos face

i LOVE DRACO SO MUCH jhshjsaajhs (i’ll focus more on my love for this kid in chamber of secrets) 

MY FAVE THING about the quidditch scene is when harry is nervous and oliver tries to comfort him but then he’s like I TOOK A BLUDGER TO THE HEAD AND WAS IN HOSPITAL FOR TWO WEEKS FIRST TIME I PLAYED hashsja i can’t

hermione sets a teacher on FIRE hjsahsaj and harry wins the match whoop 

I LOVEEEEE the trio interrogating hagrid its so funny ahjshjs

CHRISTMAS AT HOGWARTS IS PURE

THE INVISIBILITY CLOAK IS HERE !!! i don’t think i’ve said it before but i love how important the cloak is and we use it in every book and then we find out in the last book that it’s actually so much bigger than we ever realised <3 i love 

harry finds the mirror 

and this is by far my fave scene in the whole film. i cried during this. it was so so so beautiful and so heartbreaking. the music was gorgeous and the way harry touched his should where his mum’s hand was and everything just :(( SAD

and then when he’s sitting down just staring at it for hours

and dumbledore explains it to him and tells him the dwell on dreams quote that i love so much just ❤️ i adore this whole thing so much it made me so sad but it was also so beautiful and important. i love. one of my faves in the book and movie

NORBET THE DRAGON IS SO CUTE, all three of them plus draco get detention and dumbledore sends norbet off to romania himself :(( 

Draco is amazing during this whole scene shhsaj i love him

they see this horror

and draco’s slytherin self preservation kicks in and he MAKES A RUN FOR IT he’s so smart sahjhsajjahs harry just sits back and waits to die asshjajah until he is saved ofc shjjsah

HARRY RON AND HERMIONE MAKE A BREAKTHROUGH and they try to tell dumbles but he’s not there so they decide to take care of saving the stone themselves cos you know,,,,it’s totally an eleven year old’s job. 

after getting past fluffy the trio get stuck in devil’s snare and MY FAVE part is when ron is like “lucky we didn’t panic” ashjsajhashj

i love this kid

HARRY uses his flying skills and gets the flying key AFTER being hyped up by ron!!! so pure, this was also SO SO cool 

BUT NOT AS COOL AS THE CHESS PART literally so brilliant im in love with this scene

RON WAS AMAZING i seriously love it when ron gets to shine and he really truly shines ❤️

OKAY SLIGHT CRITICISM but i am sad the potion part was cut and i don’t think they mentioned that each part was made by one of the teachers because i loved seeing what each part says about each teacher when we find out what they created and the potion thing was so cool but that’s just a small thing and i get that you can’t add everything so it’s fine!! sahjjash 

WE GET TO THE MIRROR AND QUIRREL!!! and oh my god when he takes off his turban, voldy on his head is SO CREEPY

i’ve been anticipating to see this since i read about it and im shjsahjhas ITS SO DISTURBING WELL DONE MOVIE SAJHSAJHAH

anyway harry saves the day !!! and straight up kills quirrell 

dumbledore visits harry in hospital and i have to say i love this dumbles a lot he’s so kind and gentle and he seems to genuinely care about harry i love it. i love their convo so much it makes me tear up ajahshsa im a baby

Slytherin’s success gets totally blindsided at the feast when dumbles awards the golden trio and neville with NEW POINTS that makes gryffindor win sasajjasjh

savage shjsahjhjas

the film ends with harry leaving and hagrid saying goodbye and it’s the purest thing and the music is so beautiful im gonna cry im just ashjsajhhjas

OKAY OVERALL THOUGHTS 

i LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS MOVIE the music, the scenery, the design, the magical vibe, THE CHARACTERS. every single bit of this gave me so many feelings and i want to rewatch this a million times like i can’t stop thinking about it i just wanna keep rewatching it sahjjsha i feel so sajhshja I FEEL SO MUCH im so in love with this film and this story im i feel like im becoming more and more of a fan and it’s scary ashjas how much im falling for this fandom. i can’t think of anything else and this movie put all of it on screen for me and im in love. it’s perfect. 

THIS WAS SO LONG so if you read it all wow ashjsahjhajs im genuinely impressed and thank you 💖 i don’t think the other recaps are gonna be like this but i was just so excited COS ITS THE BEGINNING i got carried away and it turned into a beast. shajjhsahjas i can’t wait to talk about chamber of secrets tho IT SHOOK ME 

thank you so much for reading angels asjashj

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 19-20

SJM either cuts one measly scene into three chapters or crams 100+ long scenes into on chapter so this one is gonna be super fucking long

Celaena dressed in the nicest tunic she’d brought—which wasn’t really anything to admire, but the midnight blue and gold did bring out the turquoise hues in her eyes.

SJM gotta stop bringing attention to Celery’s Mary Sue eyes because I laugh every time I think about them.

Ansel takes Celery to dinner.

Staying alert as they entered the hall was an effort of will. Yet even with her exhaustion, she instinctively scanned the room. There were three exits—the giant doors through which they entered, and two servants’ doors on either end. The hall was packed wall-to-wall with long wooden tables and benches full of people. At least seventy of them in total. None of them looked at Celaena as Ansel ambled toward a table near the front of the room. If they knew who she was, they certainly didn’t care. She tried not to scowl.

This paragraph right here. This sums up everything wrong with this book.

At first while I was reading this, I was like “Yes finally!! Celery is acting like an assassin! It took us two short stories to get here, but we finally did!” And then SJM immediately ruins it by having Celery cry and wail about nobody giving her special attention.

Boo fucking hoo! You’re an assassin, you’re not supposed to stand out, you fucking spoiled asshole!! This character is utter garbage and I hate her so much, this is actually making me enjoy the ending of E0S where she gets the shit kicked out of her and shoved into an iron coffin. Fuck her. Fuck this book.

Ansel mentions some Lord Berick guy, who Celery has never heard of before.

“He’s the villain,” said a curly-haired, dark-eyed man across from Ansel. He was handsome in a way, but had a smile far too much like Captain Rolfe’s for Celaena’s liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

Nuance who?

Ansel blathers on about Lord Berick and how he’s the most Evil Guy Ever who wants this part of the desert or some shit. No doubt Celery will beat him in one paragraph if they meet, so who really cares.

Outside of the markets in Rifthold (...) she’d never seen such a mix of different kingdoms and continents. And though most of the people here were trained killers, there was an air of peace and contentment—of joy, even.

This place is way tf better than Arobynn’s shitty assassin joint. Please let us stay here?

Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years. Ansel claimed she’d once sworn to be silent for a month, and had only lasted two days before she gave up. She liked talking too much. Celaena didn’t have any trouble believing that.

That is quite fucking rich coming from you, Celery.

Celaena felt someone’s attention on her, and tried not to blink when she noticed a dark-haired, handsome young man watching her from a few seats down. Stealing glances at her was more like it, since his sea-green eyes kept darting to her face, then back to his companions.

oh no

Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable—as desirable as Sam, maybe.

oh god no why this

SJM has basically skipped out on love triangles (Dorito never had a chance in T0G and Tamlin never had a chance in AC0TAR, and you all know it) but nope, she just had to hit all of the shitty YA tropes. Fucking great. Poor Ilias is probably gonna be put down so Celery can realize Sammy is her one true love.

“I’m surprised you caught Ilias’s eye,” Ansel teased, keeping her voice low enough for only Celaena and Mikhail to hear. “He’s usually too focused on his training and meditating to notice anyone—even pretty girls.” (...) “I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been anything but aloof with me,” Ansel continued. “But maybe he has a thing for blondes.” Mikhail snorted.

Holy shit, is this... self awareness? I mean, both the protagonists of SJM’s big ticket series are skinny blonde white girls who have men drooling left and right for them. I bet that new Creamcheese City novel will also feature a blonde “””strong female character””” as the lead.

Celaena pushed around the food on her plate. It wasn’t that she wasn’t romantic. She’d been infatuated with a few men before—from Archer, the young male courtesan who’d trained with them for a few months when she was thirteen, to Ben, Arobynn’s now-deceased Second, back when she was too young to really understand the impossibility of such a thing.

Dude he’s like a fucking adult and she’s barely 16. Get this nasty shit outta my face. So Celery rescued Ben’s body not because he was a good guy, but because she used to have the hots for him?? This is actually gross.

Mikhail asks why Celery’s master beat the shit out of her, and she kisses her own ass for a moment or two while telling the story of freeing the slaves.

“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.” None of them were smiling anymore. “Holy gods,” Ansel whispered. True silence fell over their table for a few heartbeats.

HFAKHDKAHDKAHDS I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT

STOP!! MAKING!! EVERYONE!! SPLOOGE!! OVER!! CELERY!! IM SICK OF READING IT GET IT OUT OF MY FACE

The next day (I think?), Ansel takes Celery out to do some running and Celery is pissy that she isn’t immediately getting special attention from the Mute Master. Good to see Celery will never change in her selfish, whiny ways.

Celery fucking sucks at the run to the oasis and everyone continues to lap her.

A small oasis, mostly a ring of trees and a giant pool fed by a shimmering stream, was barely an eighth of a mile away. She was Adarlan’s Assassin—at least she’d made it here.

Stop reminding me she’s Adaran’s Assassin, I fucking know. Remember how I said at the beginning that Celery doesn’t splooge over herself as much as Alien does? Yeah I take it back, Celery is even more obnoxious.

Later on Ansel tries to stroke Celery’s fragile precious little ego by saying she did worse on her first run.

“My first run, I collapsed. Mile two. Completely unconscious. Ilias found me on his way back and carried me here. In his arms and everything.” Ilias’s eyes met with Celaena’s, and he smiled at her. “If I hadn’t been about to die, I would have been swooning,”

No Ilias/Ansel/Celery love triangle, please.

Celaena blushed, suddenly too aware of Ilias’s attention, and took a sip from her cup of lemon water. As the meal wore on, her blush remained as Ilias continued flicking his eyes toward her. She tried not to preen too much. But then she remembered how miserably she’d performed today— how she hadn’t even gotten a chance to train—and the swagger died a bit.

Celaena made her best attempt to look casual as she, too, stood and bid everyone good night. As she turned away, she noticed that Mikhail took Ansel’s hand and held it in the shadows beneath the table.

Apparently Ansel and Mikhail are a thing? I literally don’t care. Mikhail has said like what, five words this entire story? They’re literally just together because SJM can’t stand the idea of having any single characters (unless they’re evil).

Celery chases down The Master to demand her special snowflake treatment.

The Master paused, his white clothes rustling around him. He offered her a little smile. Up close, she could certainly see his resemblance to his son. There was a pale line around one of his fingers— perhaps where a wedding ring had once been. Who was Ilias’s mother? Of course, it wasn’t at all the time for questions like that.

Yeah, no shit Celery. Why are you such an idiot?

The Mute Master is like “wait your turn” and leaves. Ilias shows up for shipping fuel I guess?

“I have no plans to hurt him,” she said softly. But Ilias gave her a half smile, his brows rising as if to ask if she could blame him for being protective of his father.

Maybe I’m a softie, but this endeared me to him somewhat. He seems like a nice guy, which is more than what you get with 95% if SJM’s male characters. How come all of Celery’s love interests Rowboat who are waaay better characters than her?

His eyes were vivid in the torchlight, his hand firm and warm around hers. She let go of his fingers. The son of the Mute Master and the protégée of the King of the Assassins. If there was anyone here who was at all similar to her, she realized, it was Ilias. Rifthold might be her realm, but this was his.

Human brain: don’t get attached, Celery is an asshole

Monkey brain: hhhhhh parallels between partners in a ship...love....

Not that Ilias and Celery are/will be a thing, but you know. I’m a sucker for shit like this.

Ilias suddenly began making a series of motions with his long, tan fingers, but Celaena laughed softly. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Ilias looked skyward and sighed through his nose. Throwing his hands in the air in mock defeat, he merely patted her on the shoulder before passing by

Ilias is a good, pure boy. I’d read a story where Sammy goes to the desert instead of Celery and him and Ilias fall in love and hold hands under the shade of the desert night. Hngh, I really wish I could be reading that fanfic instead of this novel.

As she walked back to her room, Celaena had a horrible feeling that here, being Adarlan’s Assassin might not count for much.

Celery says this like we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, but back in Arobynn;s Assassin joint she flaunts her title around and rubs it in everyone’s face so yeah, you don’t get sympathy from me.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Ansel was silent for a long moment before answering. “Since I was fifteen.” Fifteen! Mikhail was in his midtwenties, so even if this had started almost three years ago, he still would have been far older than Ansel. It made her a little queasy.

Oh. My. God.

See, I personally don’t like huge age gapes in ships (that’s just my personal preference, don’t fucking @ me) but Celery you literally said earlier you were in love with Ben, a fucking grown man, when you were a young teenager you fucking hypocrite!!!!!!!! God I fucking hate Celery!!!!!!!

With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.

Pretty simple answers. You got attached to Sammy because a) SJM wanted you to so she forced you to start thirsting for him, and b) you realized “oh hey Sammy is a good guy maybe I shouldn’t imagine myself slitting his throat”. What Sammy was shouting will be revealed later to my knowledge, and as for the 3 assassins thing... idk, tbh. I mean, Sammy is just a teenager boy, one big buff assassin should be enough to restrain him.

This chapter finally ends thank fucking god. We still have one more to go for today.

[Celaena] did run farther the next day. And the day after that, and the one following that. But it still took her so long to get back that she didn’t have time to seek out the Master. Not that she could. He’d send for her. Like a lackey.

Stop trying to make me feel bad for Celery being ignored if she’s just gonna splooge about how ~special and uhmayzing~ she is.

Like the assassins in Adarlan, the Silent Assassins weren’t known for any skill in particular—save the uncannily quiet way they moved.

That seems kinda odd. Assassins should be talented at many ways of disposing of people yeah, but wouldn’t it make more sense for some of them to have a knack for a certain type of killing, such as using poisons?

Still, even as [the assassins] corrected her posture and showed her new ways to control her breathing, she tried her best not to snarl at them. She knew plenty—she wasn’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.

If I have to read that fucking sentence one more time I am ripping this book in half. No joke, I am a hair’s length away from not finishing this fucking book. Even E0S never got me to want to throw  the towel in completely and quit like this.

Perhaps if she demonstrated that she was skilled enough in these practices, the Master might take notice of her. She’d get that letter. Even if she had to hold a dagger to his throat while he wrote it.

Wow, asshole! You have to put in the tiniest amount of effort to learn and talk to people and you’re already resorting to violence??? You really are a weak and stupid protagonist and I hate you with every fiber of my being.

The attack by Lord Berick happened on her fifth night.

This made me sit up in my seat, to be honest. We finally get.... plot? Promises of action? Assassins versus assassins? Holy shit, I’m hype!

Apparently the attack happens oh so conveniently when the Mute Master and a bunch of assassins are away on a mission. Celery acknowledges this as extremely convenient, which leads me to believe there may be a rat in the assassin fortress. If not, then this is laughably stupid and convenient.

“We’re not going to kill [the soldiers]?” Celaena whispered back. (...) Ansel shook her head, watching Ilias down the line. “No, though I wish we could.” Celaena didn’t particularly care for the casual way she said it

Why would that fucking bother you?? Don’t act all high and mighty asshole, you’re an assassin the same as her. You both kill people for a living. Jesus fucking christ.

They all fire some burning arrows at an oil ridge in the sand or something which scares off Lord Berick’s goons. The scene ends.

I’m not even joking, this entire scene takes up a page and a tiny paragraph of another. I... I’m fucking speechless. You promise us an action scene and you give us this shitty, glossed over pile of garbage that serves no point? No named characters were even injured!!!!!! Holy fucking shit, SJM, you are a terrible terrible terrible writer! Please fucking stop, I can’t handle any more of these dumpster fires of novels.

The next day Mikail tells Ansel she has orders to go to Xandria, and she invites Celery to go along with, I assume Xandria is a place.....? This chapter ends. I am going to drown myself in chocolate chip cookies to heal.