#I think I get too burnt out and I had a bunch of stuff on the go

[the-secret-keeper]

Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland

This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.

TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares

Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.

Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Could be read as romantic or platonic

This will be long, so the stories under the cut

This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!

First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.

And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.

You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.

Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.

Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.

Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.

Lucifer:

You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.

"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.

"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.

"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.

"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.

"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.

"Thank you."

A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.

It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.

"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."

"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.

"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.

"Like what?"

"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."

"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.

"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."

"Overblots?"

"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."

"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."

"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.

Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.

"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"

Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.

"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."

He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.

"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."

He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.

No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.

Mammon: 

You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.

It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.

Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.

You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.

"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.

"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.

"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.

"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."

"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.

"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."

"Really?"

His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.

"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."

"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."

"Grim?"

"My cat."

"Ya sound like Satan."

"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.

"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.

Leviathan:

Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.

"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."

"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.

"You do?!" He asked excitedly.

"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."

"Really? Tell me more!"

"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.

"You couldn't?"

"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."

"That seems... dumb. To say the least."

"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.

"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."

"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.

"He was an otaku too?"

"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."

"Better than me?"

"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.

"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.

"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."

"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."

"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.

He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.

Asmodeus:

Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.

He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.

You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.

He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.

"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.

"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.

"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"

"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."

"Interesting man? Interesting how?"

"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."

"Anything else I should know about this person?"

"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."

"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.

"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.

"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."

"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."

"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."

"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."

"Run down?"

"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.

"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."

"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."

"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.

There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.

He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.

Satan:

Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.

You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.

You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.

"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."

"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.

"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."

"Oh." Satan almost groaned.

"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."

"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"

"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."

"I thought you said you were a student?"

"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."

A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?

He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.

It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.

"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.

"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.

"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.

"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.

"Take your time."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."

"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."

"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.

"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."

"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."

"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.

"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.

With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.

After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.

"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."

"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."

"It was that bad?"

"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.

Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.

If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.

"Was it just you?"

"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."

"You were hated?"

"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."

"Was your old headmaster that bad?"

"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."

"That sounds awful."

"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."

"I wish you would've told us."

"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.

"Spelldrive?"

"Yeah!"

As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.

Belphegor:

Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.

It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.

He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.

But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.

Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.

"You need to wake up."

You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Wake! UP!" He commanded.

You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.

You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.

"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."

"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"

"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."

"And your cat?"

"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."

"How long have you had these nightmares?"

"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."

"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.

"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.

"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"

"I do."

He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.

He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.

But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.

"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.

"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.

You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.

[rahabs]

Anyway, I do want the lovely joplittle folks to know that these two still have me by the throat and I have several fics I intend to release for them, but I am migrating all my work to a new writing program after a few of them got corrupted/partially lost when trying to fight with Scrivener's terrible migrating/syncing and MS Word's terrible... everything. So once I stop mourning for "the lost ones", as it were, and my WIPs have been moved over to Ulysses (ease of syncing due to how often I switch between the computer and my iPad), I'll be finishing up some of my projects (Captain Little, a scrimshaw sequel, the last few thousand words of another Beggar's Knowledge-type fic, etc) c:

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[thethingything]

listening to the stuff we listened to a lot in the first half of 2022 in the hopes of maybe replicating the vibe of that time period well enough to trick our brain into feeling a little less shit about everything

[claiestve]

𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ꨄ Kayson

˜”* ❝𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙄'𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴀʀᴄᴀᴅᴇ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴋᴀʏꜱᴏɴ !

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You love Kayson with all your heart. How could you not? He’s the sweetest man you’ve met, talented, and loves you just as much. Now, as much as you love your boyfriend, finding time together isn’t always easy. His availability and yours didn’t align too well and despite his efforts to distract you from work, you make a conscious effort to stay focused.

There’s nothing wrong with that, though. The two of you were devoted, you slightly more than him. Lately, though, you’ve been exhausted—burnt out and drained. Kayson saw it all and he hated it, so much. It was getting to the point where you’d be knocked out, dead asleep when he got home which made his heart hurt a little. 

Knowing him, you knew he’d do something about it but you were expecting him to take a day off to be with you or encourage you to leave the house. Well, he did both. 

Kayson took a day off of work and dragged you out of the house to spend the day with him to take your mind off everything. 

“Kayson, where are we going? I could’ve finished–”

Your lips were met with a bossy finger,

“Shhh… don’t think about work, babe. You’ll see where we’re going soon.”

Your eyes rolled at his bossiness, it wasn’t helping with your crankiness. There were many places he could take you but any idea you could think of was far too simple for him. Not enough fun for him. Not that you had many ideas, though, it hurt to think but that never stopped you before. 

“Kayson,” You turned to him, watching him giggle, “Are we seriously at an arcade?”

He leaned his head back, “What would you do if I said yes?” 

“I’d be amused.”

Kayson laced his fingers with yours, placing a kiss on the back of your hand, “You look so amused.”

He was starting to pick up your sarcastic humor, a trend you somewhat regret encouraging because ever since he started, he never stopped. 

Nonetheless, the two of you stepped inside the most colorful, nostalgic, and competitive environment. It may not seem like it, but this was your shit. You knew that Kayson knew you’d love this. That thought alone made you love him even more. 

“Where do you wanna start, babe?”

Your teeth poked out with the help of a mischievous grin, “Which game do you suck the most at?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your lovely boyfriend was now following you like a dog on a walk. He felt the most defeated in his life. He even tried to win you a stuffed animal but he failed so miserably that you had to win it for him for you. It was adorable though. 

The only thing you could think of was how much fun the two of you were having (and how much fun you were having, absolutely crushing him at everything). Kayson could just see how much the stress and exhaustion left your body and that was all he could think about. 

“Damn, babe! We got a bunch stuff from these tickets.”

You look over to see him holding all your prizes—it’s too much for him to carry alone.

“Here Kay, let me help you,” Your prizes fell right into your arms, “I had a lot of fun today, thank you so much, Kayson.”

“That was all I wanted.”

His head dips down to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s put these in the car now.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

absolutely BLESS @xxminxrq for this idea, i hope it met ur expectations ♡ n i love the idea in general

💋 

[revalition]

OCT 1 - LOGIC

Wield raw intellectual power. Deduce the world.

I'm not apologizing for the quality because if I was actually sorry, I'd have just... done a better job. But I am acknowledging it. All the skilltober stuff from last year was just. So cool. And I could probably pull off cool too, but then I'll get burnt out, so you get a doodles scrapbook of the skills instead! (: enjoy.

Going to shove a bunch of logic quotes and ramblings under the cut for any huge Logic nerds haha. there's a lot, you've been warned

yes logic, he's jealous. mmhm.

he was so excited!! sorry Logic...

He's such a dork!

ily sassy Logic

He hates superstition so much! also cryptids! Him and inland empire are so funny

Logic fails are also too funny, he refuses to take responsibility for you failing the roll.

Logic identifying a handful of skills as 'nice helpful guys' is everything to me (fyi, this list includes savoir faire, perception, visual calculus, inland empire, and volition! the bad ideas are from drama and pain threshold lmao)

Logic is also not here to make you feel better! He's responsible for 10 instances of morale damage (the highest is Inland Empire with 11) and most of them are him telling you you're stupid!

Physical instrument can call you a bad, lazy detective btw and you don't lose morale. I guess Harry thinks highly of Logic's opinion. At least on *detecting*.

This one's interesting, the one above.

Rare and elusive self-deprecating Logic!

Sadly. Heartbreakingly, even. We have reached the maximum number of images allowed in a post. And I had to delete so many! Because: I am extremely normal about this game, and about the skills. All of the time. (Yep! And! They don't even talk to me, in my head) But, it may be reasonable to expect this amount of rambling for all of the skilltober posts. now's your chance to block me, you're welcome <3

[junnieverse]

UNTIL WE'RE 80 ➳ P. SUNGHOON

➙ synopsis: your friend was constantly swooning over her new boyfriend and you realise the honeymoon phase wasn't really in yours and sunghoon's relationship. it was nothing but constant teasing and playfulness but you both knew you would never change anything about it for the world.

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader

genre: fluff, crack, friends to lovers au

word count: 0.7k

request: [ inspired by this tiktok ] " you and hoon are with your friend who just got into a new relationship and is all like omg he’s so handsome, i love him so much. you and hoon just look at her all weird and say things like “i’d never think of him that way, look at him” cause u guys were friends before dating so it’s just ur dynamic and just being overall playful together but there are still times where you also talk about each other that way. "

warnings: not proofread, alot of teasing and name calling from reader and sunghoon

a/n: here it is anon! I didn't want to make it too long but I think this turned out so cute and pretty funny so thank you for this request angel, enjoy :)

"Oh geez dude, just the sight of you almost burnt my eyes." you tell Sunghoon who entered the room as you covered your eyes.

"Wow, I'm that handsome. My beauty blinded you." he says proudly smiling.

"More like your ugliness. Man what happened to your face." you playfully remark laughing as your friend holds in her laugh.

Ignoring your response, your boyfriend sits down next to you.

"Seriously, he is the cutest guy ever, I can't believe I get to call him my boyfriend." your friend continues to tell you about her new boyfriend.

"He should run for it while he can. I wish I did." sunghoon says side eyeing you. 

"He's amazing honestly. Last time he came over, he got me a bunch of flowers with my favourite snacks and chocolate." she says sighing dreamily.

"I wish I had a boyfriend to do that for me." you playfully respond sneaking a glance at your boyfriend who pinched your thigh as you had your legs over his lap.

Your friend looked between you and Sunghoon before pouting.

"Oh c'mon, you and Sunghoon have the best relationship ever, you're both pretty much the reason I didn't like being single half of the time." she admits to which Sunghoon chuckles.

"Please, Sunghoon? He's not all that, I could do better. I mean look at him lmao."

"If anything I should get a new partner. This one is all smelly and they like clinging to me." he teases you pretending to gag.

Flinging a pillow at him, he successfully dodges it and sticks his tongue out at you.

If anyone else saw the both of you they would think you and Sunghoon were just best friends who enjoyed bantering and teasing each other but you had both actually been dating for years now.

You'd been childhood friends and that soon turned into something romantic.

Having known each other for so long, your relationship dynamic didn't change much, you still enjoyed bickering and being playful, only difference was you did the couple stuff too now, like... dates and being overly affectionate.

"Oh shut up Hoon, I'm doing you a favour by dating you, nobody wanted you. You literally look like a weird frog." you tell him as you made a look of disgust.

Your friend looked between the two of you as you bickered but despite how you were going on roasting each other, your connection was undeniable.

You could make fun of your boyfriend all you wanted but at the end of the day he still brought butterflies to your stomach with his smile alone.

"Frog? Bro you're built like the hunchback of Notre-Dame. Please look at yourself. I'm gorgeous." he retorts winking at you as he complimented himself.

"Look at you, you're a total simp, giving me those heart eyes-" you tease Sunghoon as you laughed at him and your friend joined along.

"Am not! I'm looking at you because you have a fat booger sticking out your nose loser." he defends himself before he attacks you.

Hovering over you, Sunghoon starts tickling you and he was quick to find your weak spots to make you laugh even harder.

"Stop hahaha, I-I can't take it Sunghoon." you try your best to say losing your breath.

He momentarily stops pretending to think, "Hmm... I'll stop on one condition. You give me a kiss."

"What? No way, your breath stinks like butt crack." you tease him before he starts his ruthless attack again.

"O-okay okay fine! I'm sorry, I'll do it!" you surrender and he stops.

Leaning down, you give your boyfriend a quick peck on his lips and your friend clears her throat indicating she was still there.

"Oh you both are completely whipped. I have an entire boyfriend and you still manage to make me feel single once again." she says shaking her head.

"Bros before hoes. How about I dump him and then we can have a girls night!" you suggest giving her a high five as Sunghoon scoffs.

"You know I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." he sits up ruffling your hair messing it up as you slap his hand away.

"Maybe we do have to get rid of our boyfriend's then it'll just be us. No more boys being gross around us!" your friend joins in the playfulness as Sunghoon glares at her.

"Oh you can't get rid of me, I'll be annoying you until we're 80." sunghoon says with an arm around your shoulder before kissing your cheek.

Rolling your eyes at this, you knew you wouldn't have it any other way.

[munsonsreputation]

THIS LOVE

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.3K]

warnings: no use of y/n, SOUL MATES / ONE TRUE LOVE (these fuckers are madly in love with each other), brief mention of breakup (literally they end up together so it's fine lollll), just a bunch of fluffiness!!!!!

summary: you used to think that summer was just three months out of the year, but with steve you realize that it's forever. and while you never really had him for forever in the past, you both come to realize how far you've come and why this love meant so much.

In the vastness of the water, there stands your boy, crowded in an expanse of clear blue water and surrounded by shades of tall green and oak in the distance. It’s been years since you’ve been to a beach with actual waves breaking the shore and fine sand getting lost between your toes, but this lake seems to make up for the lack of coasts in Hawkins.

The lake was always calm, never carrying your boy out too deep or coating his skin in the harsh film of salt when he came out. It welcomed him with a coldness that dissipated into warmth as he trekked in the water with the sun glowing against the surface, piercing through the reservoir.

You stood on land, pebbles and smooth rocks against your bare soles as you beamed broadly and watched him. His eyes set on the sky where clouds rolled on and on in blobs that he imagined as niche shapes and where the creatures flew over his head, chirping and fluttering soundly as they passed by.

But the most beautiful creature stood there watching him through the viewfinder of her polaroid camera not wanting to let the moment go to waste, capturing him like he was a scene that she needed to have engrained in her mind.

“You just gonna paparazzi me all day, or are you gonna get it, baby?” He exclaimed across the short distance from where he was from you.

You giggled, bringing the camera down as the soft whirring generated a fresh copy of the picture that you waved around in the air in hopes of it developing faster.

“Is it cold?” You sought out loud, letting your eyes tear away from his for a minute to see the photo developed perfectly, catching the scene that you would hang up on your bulletin board later tonight.

He swam closer to where you were, settling in the shallow where he stood in ankle deep water, letting the refreshing breeze brush over his damp skin.

“Just a little, but c’mon and I’ll warm you up.” He held out his arm, nodding with a promise that he wouldn’t let you freeze in the lake even if the sun was at its brightest, heating the water perfectly for you two.

“Okie dokie, Stevie.” You bubbled, crouching down to stuff the camera into the thick canvas bag and tucking the polaroid in the inner pocket to keep it protected.

He watched you straighten up, tugging at the waistband of your shorts and letting them fall next to the pile of his clothes. His t-shirt you were wearing was next, allowing your skin to breathe the fresh summer air and excitement as you strode over to him.

His cold hand clasped together with yours, giving you a half apologetic squeeze as you tip toed your way into the water, letting your feet get accustomed to the initial coolness before leading you in deeper until you were chest deep — for him just about near his ribcage.

“Feeling warm?” He proposed, looking down at where you had settled your cheek against his chest and wrapped your arms around his back.

You hummed pleasantly with your eyes closed. A light orange in your vision where the sunlight burned against your lids before it dulled out, having his hand land over your forehead, concealing you from the rays.

“Your gonna get sun burnt if you keep doing that.” He bantered, leaning down to place a kiss at the top of your head while his other hand stroked your back, occasionally twisting the strings of your swim top around his finger.

“At this rate, I’m sure I have sun damage,” you quipped followed by a grunt, and you could feel him shaking his head at you.

“That’s not possible. I make sure you’re coated in sunscreen and I make you reapply.” He assured you, looking back at the shore where the sunscreen bottle poked out of your bag having him smooth the contents all over your body just moments before he got in the water first.

You finally opened your eyes, grabbing at the wrist near your forehead and guiding it to join with yours, but not before pecking his fingertips sweetly. His heart skipped at the action despite it being something that you always did at some point in the day. A form of love and tenderness that was too difficult and sweet for him to word since it was his and his only.

“Thanks for looking out for my skin cells…they’re very thankful.” You smiled up at him as he chuckled and nodded earnestly.

“I’m sure they are, doll…wanna go out a little deeper?”

You don’t answer with words, just a simple smile, a little wider than the one you’re already wearing, and he gets his answer. You begin the retract from him, staying close enough where your legs rock against each other as you swim further into the lake, your feet no longer able to touch the ground beneath you, but thankfully Steve is there to let you wrap his legs around his hips as he settles back up.

He’s about neck deep now and with your arms around his, terrified that you weighing him down, but you aren’t. He wants to keep you afloat out here, and he’ll happily do so until you’re ready to head back to shore.

Summer has just begun, but it oftentimes leaves too swiftly for either of your likings. To you, summer used to be hot and sticky — uncomfortable to endure with the unforgiving Indiana fever that rolls through May and late August.

But your boy is summer personified.

A radiant sunrise and a glorious sunset.

Freshly picked fruit and artificial slurpees.

Wind sneaking through his bedroom window and sun beating down on his windshield.

Skipping rocks on the lake and climbing a tree to jump in it.

Thin white cotton tees and do-it-yourself cutoffs.

Elaborate picnics and impromptu diner dates.

Biking through town and driving with the windows down.

State fair rollercoasters and big teddy bear prizes.

A homemade fire pit to toast marshmallows and igniting fireworks.

Water balloon fights and lounging on pool floaties.

Heated make out sessions in the back of his car and ice cold showers.

Sleeping in half the day and going to bed at dawn.

Summer was Steve, and he was always going to be yours.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Steve poked at your quietness, drawing a hand up to your face, stroking the wet strands of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, reassuring him with a smile, “Nothing important, just don’t want summer to end so soon.”

He chuckled lightly, tutting at your worry, “Honey, July just started. We still have a month and a half to go.”

More like forever.

“That’s not true,” you grinned shyly, tucking your face in the juncture of his jaw and neck, pressing kisses along his skin.

His fingertips pushed into the plush of your skin, holding you tighter as his chest bubbled with laughter and his mind wandered to curiosity.

“Hmm, really? Care to explain?”

You wished you could keep Steve a secret, just yours to admire with your own eyes, not wanting to give the world a glimpse at his sheer perfection — but that would be downright selfish. The people who he had in his life, including yourself, deserved to witness his authentic self, the one you really loved deeply.

And just like the lake you and Steve found yourselves in all summer long, it seemed that this was a place of sacredness for the both of you — a secret little oasis you two could run off to whenever you needed to get away from the hecticness.

But unlike the calmness of the lake, you and Steve weren’t always like this.

Madly in love, yes.

Peaceful and patient, no.

It took you both a while to get to this point in your love story that seemed to have started off as a tragedy to begin with. You and Steve carrying baggage from previous partners in which you both handed over to each other instead of leaving at the door. It resulted in restlessness and anxiety, scared that the other would do something similar that their past partners did to lose their trust.

Not that love was ever supposed to be easy, but you both knew your love couldn’t thrive in those conditions where the storm didn’t waiver and the darkness didn’t fade.

And so, as quickly as the tide brought Steve into your life, the current had swept him out again. You had to let him go because you knew you couldn’t love him the way he deserved and he couldn’t love you the way he wanted.

The sleepless nights filled with tossing and turning almost seemed relentless, as if it wouldn’t ever pass, but you both knew you weren’t supposed to just pass by each other’s lives like this.

It wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

“When I’m with you it feels like summer never really ends.” You settle for the short answer, whispering it in his ear before you move back to look at him.

He’s enamored and you can tell, yet you still find it surprising that he doesn’t believe someone could love him as much as you do. The way that your words that you mean with every ounce of your being still has an effect on him as if you wouldn’t drop everything for him.

“Yeah?” He asks stupidly like he believes you’re just making some bullshit up, but his grin lets you know he just wants to hear it again.

You roll your eyes playfully, nodding, “Yeah, Stevie. You’re my summer even when it’s fall or winter, and spring. You’re summer and mine.”

Like the hands that once let him go free, your arms dropped from around his body, swimming away deeper than you should. Yet this time he wasn’t gone and he was never going to be again. Wading closely behind you and showing up just in time as you bopped your head from underwater to take in a breath of crisp air.

His hands hooking under your arms and guiding you back to his chest where you giggled and hid your face. Your wet lips leaving dewy pecks over the patches of hair on his body and trailing up to his collarbone.

“You can’t get all shy on me after that, baby.” His voice is sickly sweet and teasing.

His fingernails faintly tickling your skin, making you thrash lightly in his grip, but not making any plans to move away from him because right here is where you want to stay forever. Every delicate touch he leaves upon your skin is a permanent mark that you never want to forget, similar to the kisses you leave on his fingertips and chest that he vows to memorize.

He holds you near with one arm supporting you as the other reaches behind your neck to keep you from hiding away in his skin because while he loves to feel your breathing so close; he loves seeing your face even more.

“You’re my wildest dream, you know that?” He reminds you like he doesn’t tell you all the time that he can’t believe that you're his.

You even find it hard to believe that he’s yours.

Like a sinking ship that was supposed to be doomed for worse that somehow rose above and made its way to its destination — that was the best way to describe the journey that you and Steve took to make it here.

Right where you two were wrapped in a sea of clear blue water that was serene and undisturbed. That while sometimes there was a ripple that passed by, it would ultimately settle and neither of you would have to be gone in order for it to simmer down.

“I know…and I love you so much. More than anything and anyone in this world.”

Your hands cradle his jaw and your lips place a kiss on his left cheek, landing them on the double freckles that lay side by side there. You’re pretty sure that while he has a million on his skin all over his body, these two are your favorite because they remind you of how far you both have come.

That at one point you kissed this same spot goodbye before you ran away thinking he was gone forever and nowadays you get to kiss it to remind yourself and him that you two were here for a reason.

He swallows before breaking out into a smile as big as his face would allow, a mirror of what you look like yet in his eyes more pleasing to him. He lets his hands tangle gently at the nape of your neck, tilting your face just right in order to slot his against yours, hovering over the silky skin where you can feel him whispering sweet words soft enough for only you to hear.

“I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

Your lips move in unison with his, never skipping a beat which is unlike your hearts that feel swarmed with so much love that they could combust right this instant. But instead, they stay in their cages, tethered and bound to each other because you both knew that you needed each other.

That even when the summer dwindled down and fall came to make the water colder, when winter froze over the lake, and spring finally began to defrost it — you still had your boy.

The never ending summer to your seasons. The sweetness to the autumn spice. The sun and warmth on the coldest days and nights. And the lush to the sprouting months.

So while you and Steve were never perfect, nor were ever going to be…

But the storm had passed.

It was glowing in the dark.

Back alive from the dead.

This love came back.

a/n: happy july and happy speak now tv month!!!! im feeling happier this summer and im also thinking a lot about the domesticity of summer (going to the lakes, beach dips, walks around the neighborhood, ect.) and i came up with this little thing. i hope you all enjoyed it and happy summer!!!!

let me know what you think: reblogs, tags, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot

[hiswitchcraft]

I am a witch who's trying to get back into witchcraft after an immense amount of burn out. The burn out wasn't due to the witchcraft, it was due to things piling on my brain in general. What sort of things do you suggest to ease myself back into it? If you don't have an answer that's okay, just thought to ask

I've been dealing with this myself and I actually just made a video on it that I really like not too long ago, so I think I can help you!

How to Come Back to the Craft After Burn Out (+ A Guide to doing Witchcraft with Low Spoons) 

I was burnt out in general and because of the craft, particularly because of the way I was filtering my personal practice through social media. I realized a lot of my burnout was tied to pushing myself, and shame. I feel like maybe this is common. This is a mix of both personal and witchy advice, and I may be projecting, but I think you have to focus first and foremost on not rushing back in and getting overwhelmed by adding a bunch of stuff to your routine at once and trying to do everything right or perfect. A good practice or routine is sustainable, not perfect. Perfect is the enemy of good, and also the enemy of done. I've had to focus on this a lot recently. 

With this in mind, you might be wondering where you should even begin when it comes to actually practicing again. Remember to go slow. I’d suggest thinking about what you were doing and interested in before and start practicing and researching whatever sounds the most fun when you’re ready. You could also go over any notes you had about your practice before, if you had a blog or something look at that, etc. You get the idea! It will help you remember and might inspire you. If you really enjoyed tarot for example, you could do that when you feel inspired to. Starting slow is important. if you want go slower you could just do whatever practices you were doing before, or like now, whenever you feel like it. You could also try working witchcraft into your routine. Routine is hard for a lot of people but it doesn’t have to be intense. It can just be adding one thing. That’s all it needs to be. It could be something you do once a month, once a week, when you wake up, after you brush your teeth, only some days or whatever you think will make you feel the best.  

Of course I don’t know anything about your practice but to inspire you and others, here’s some ways you can easily introduce magic into your life. 

Daily divination  A tarot card every morning is what I like to do but you could use any kind of divination you like! 

Meditation  Meditate for a few minutes every morning/evening. Even 2 minutes makes a difference. Also, despite popular belief meditation does not have to be emptying your mind. 

Dream interpretation  Interpret or just journal about your dreams! Honestly journaling in general I think is great for witches. 

Witchy items of the day  Pick out some items to carry on you for the day. This could be crystals or herbs you want the properties of, a hag stone, or other items with properties you want to draw to you or use in your practice. 

Intention in drinks & food!  If you have coffee or tea every morning or day you can stir intention into it. Clockwise for things you want in, counterclockwise for things you want to banish. Or that’s the typical belief/way people suggest doing it. You can also stir sigils into it or add items to your drinks/food with or by intention. 

Enchanting personal care  Another way you can bring magic in your everyday life is enchanting personal care products. I’d do this for added layers of warding but you could get super creative with this and do whatever intention you like. 

Sigils sigils sigils  Sigils are fun to make. You can use them for a ton of other things on this list. Stir them into your drinks. Draw a sigil on your skin using lotion. Write them on your walls for warding. Sigils, sigils, ... sigils! 

Spritz cleansing If you have a hard time cleansing or not a lot of energy right now when you DO have energy you can put together a mixture for cleansing using a spritz bottle and then you have it done and ready to go ahead of time for many cleansing sessions. Beware of herbs and things you add if you have any allergies/pets. Actually just research any plants you handle anyway. 

Layering your wards  If you’re struggling with burn out right now you probably don’t have a lot of energy so this is a tip I like for when this happens and just the long term overall. Always add small layers using different methods to your personal and spacial wards. An example of this I love is some of the above, carrying an item with strong protective properties or writing sigils on the bottom of your shoes/sewing them into your clothes/etc are some other ideas I love. Customize as needed! Be creative! 

Basically just think of things you do everyday and try to make it witchy! Or think of practices you want to do more, like maybe cleansing, and figure out how to make it easier. 

Also I did mention research. I think in addition to picking a practice to try again or add to your routine, picking a topic to research that sparks interest may help too. Here are some ideas for that!

Intention 

Cleansing 

Charging

Grounding

Warding 

Circle casting 

Consecration 

Visualization 

Meditation methods 

Divination types (some are listed below)

Tarot 

Oracle cards 

Lenormand 

Pendulums 

Runes

Scrying

Astrology 

Palmistry 

Dream interpretation 

Spell types & spell construction 

Taglocks 

Sigils 

Other symbols & what they mean

The Theban alphabet 

Color magic 

Moon phases 

The Elements 

Correspondences of days, times, etc 

Crystals 

Moon water

Black salt

Plants, herbs, and spices in witchcraft  

Local plants 

Local history & folklore 

Pantheons & their deities 

Deity work

Spirit work

Astral projection 

Hope this helps 💕

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

i was never one for omegaverse since i could never understand all of it, but holy hell, you have me in a chokehold with HSR now 😭🙏 /pos

since i’ve been reading lately, it’s been making me wonder how blade’s mara would affect everything like his ruts and how he’ll get sensitive to certain smells and scents. idk why, but i can totally see him laying in a messy nest he attempted to make (watched his mate do it once and tried to recreate it [have no clue if that’s a thing in omegaverse but oh well]) that had his mate’s recently worn clothes in it and a couple other things that reminded him of them while having a bad mara episode that made it hard for him to move around or be around other people (i got a whole bunch of headcanons about this man’s mara episodes, and a/b/o is only fueling it now)

and whenever they do come around and find him, he just wants to be around them since their scent is the only one that doesn’t give him a migraine. he’d probably gnaw at their bond mark too since he just wants to sink his teeth into something

(i am so sorry this is long, i just felt safe rambling about it here since you post a lot about it 😅)

Yes! Yes! Join us in omegaverse hsr! This is a safe space to ramble so go nuts :D

Cw: omegaverse

With omegaverse you can do whatever you like since everyone has their own personal headcanons on what can happen within it. Like for example some believe that building nests is only something omegas do while others say it's something all secondary genders do for comfort. I personally go with the second one because it makes you think about how each would build their nest and why.

Blade's Mara messes with his mind and makes him lose himself so during and after his flare ups he's always so drained and burnt out. If he's in his rut during this time it's much worse as he's trapped between the strong urges of his alpha side to protect and claim his omega but worn out by the Mara.

His sense of smell heightens which just aggravates his symptoms even more as he can't stand the scent of another alpha even if it's faint on himself or his omega. The only plus side to this is that his omegas scent becomes stronger which is like a balm to aching wounds.

Since nesting is something he sees his omega do for comfort regardless of if they're stressed or not he decides to give it a shot himself. It's clumsily made and doesn't look to comfortable but it has some of his omegas laundry and a few of their well scented blankets so it's a start.

He wraps himself in their scent and feels the tension leave him as he basks in it all. He's not getting up for anything, he can't get up for anything he's so tired and out of it the only one who can really get close is his omega or he'll lash out. If his omega finds him vulnerable like this it's their time to look after him and make sure he's well taken care of.

Something that doesn't change much in his behavior is that he still follows them around like he would in his ruts though he keeps himself wrapped up in their stuff. He'll follow them to the kitchen as they make him some light food and he'll listen as they take him to the bathroom so they can run him a nice warm bath for his pain.

He'll definitely lightly gnaw on their scent glands and or bond mark so he can smell them more and have the comfort of having them there beside him. It pacifies his Alpha half through the action and soothes his Mara through their welcoming scent.

[mouwrites]

HEAR ME OUT RN

miles morales X fem!reader who LOVES studying and fashion but is like insanely burnt out and too tired to work so she resorts to some NOT good coping mechanisms (up to you, whatever youre comfy with!!)

This came out way longer than I expected, sorry hehe ^^” but I wanted to portray an unhealthy coping mechanism that I feel like isn’t talked about enough!

Not to sound cheesy or whatever but I hope we can all learn something from this one (◔︣◡◔᷅) <3

Word count: 1.3k

ASTV - Burned Out and Miserable (Miles)

You were angry. Your fingers smashed the keys on your keyboard so rapidly that, if you were in a cartoon, a thick plume of black smoke would be coming from beneath your hands.

Your face was twisted in a wretched frown as you stared at the screen. How could this person be so stupid?

You were entirely enraptured in an argument online. You’d seen a post that you didn’t like, and left a rather brash comment saying as much. You hadn’t expected the original poster to see it; you were really just venting with the expectation of getting lost in the sea of other comments, or otherwise ignored. But they had replied, and now here you were, throwing way too much into the ring and fighting dirty.

You bit your tongue roughly, trying to think of the nastiest, rudest thing to say to hurt this person. They’d spared you no courtesy, and you were just returning the favor.

Your phone buzzed for what felt like the millionth time, and this time you were so aggravated that you threw it across the room. It landed with a quiet whomp on your bed, and then you were back at it, getting nastier by the second. You were just so angry, so miserable, and you just had to impose it on the world.

You hadn’t been aware of just how dark it was in your room until your door opened, unleashing a searing beam of light right on you. You almost hissed like a vampire as you brought up a hand to block it from your eyes.

“Why is it so dark in here?” It was Miles, sounding amused while he left the door wide open and walked over to sit on your bed.

“Sure, just make yourself at home,” you grumbled, sending glances to your screen out of the corner of your eye.

“Well, this explains why you haven’t been answering my texts,” he chuckled, picking up your phone and putting it on your nightstand so he could sit on your bed.

You turned sharply back to your computer when you saw a new message from your opponent.

“I noticed that you haven’t really been… I dunno, lively, I guess. Not like you usually are. And I know you’ve been working really hard lately, so I was thinking that maybe you’ve been working too hard.”

His voice was just noise; annoying noise, like a fly buzzing around your head. You didn’t give him any sign that you were listening, nor at all interested in what he was saying, but he continued anyway.

“I know how much you like fashion stuff,” he was saying, and suddenly the rustling of a plastic bag accompanied his annoying voice, “so I brought you a bunch of magazines.”

Your mouth was twitching irritably. You still gave him no acknowledgement, keeping your back turned and your eyes fixed on your screen.

“I thought we could make one of those collages I’ve seen you make. For fun. Just totally chill.”

“Will you shut up?” You finally snapped. The words felt like knives coming out of your mouth, and suddenly your head was in your hands and a loud groan was leaving your lips.

Anger burned in your chest, overwhelming all else. You couldn’t even think, you were just so angry.

“Woah,” was all Miles could say. Several seconds of silence passed.

You felt his presence behind you. He was leaning forward, looking at your screen. You could practically hear him grimacing as he asked what you were up to.

“This stupid—!” You burst again, your head whipping up and your hands gesturing sharply, your arms stiff with rage. But your anger was running out of fuel; the white hot rage was cooling to a simmering, exhausted frustration. You just shook your head and scoffed.

Miles was reading the messages. He already knew all he needed to.

“Y/n, this isn’t healthy,” he was pointing meekly at the screen. “I mean… yikes.”

Suddenly the exhaustion was fighting to drown out your anger, and your hyper-focused, angry perspective was expanding. You were back in your room. It was dark outside now. Hours had passed since you sat down at your computer that afternoon. Miles was here. Miles, who you’d just snapped at. Miles, who was shocked at the person you’d just become for a few hours under the anonymity of your internet persona.

You blinked at the messages you’d sent, completely ignoring the ones your opponent had shot back. Who was this person? How could they be so terrible? It was you.

Your hand came up to your mouth, and a shuddering breath left your lips. “Oh god…”

Miles’ eyes flicked between you and the computer. “Y/n, it’s okay,” he was already comforting you, sensing the growing dread in your gut.

“No..! How could I..?! I was so horrible!” You dropped your head into your hands, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I didn’t mean it…” you whimpered miserably. “I was just so tired, so angry… I didn’t know what I was doing…”

“Because you were working so hard?” Miles guessed.

You had to think for a second, but at length you nodded. “I didn’t know what to do… I was so miserable.”

You were shaking now, completely mortified by your actions. Miles wrapped an arm around you, smoothing your shirt against your back. “That wasn’t really you; you weren’t yourself.”

You knew as much, of course, but that didn’t stop the guilt. “It’s all my fault. I was so mean.”

“Yeah, you were pretty mean…” he admitted, but then hurried to defend you: “but you were also hurting.”

Tears were pricking your eyes. You nodded, remembering how horrible you’d been feeling even before tonight. Tired, irritable, no motivation…

“But that’s not an excuse.”

“No,” Miles agreed, “but it’s an explanation.”

Your face was mostly covered by your hands, but you noticed the light from your computer suddenly dimming.

“Wait,” you said quickly, raising your head and lowering your legs back to the floor in a panic, “let me apologize to them.”

Miles shook his head, turning the device off all the way. “Not a good idea right now. You both need to cool down.”

“I’m cool,” you insisted, reaching for your keyboard. But Miles just pushed back your chair, inserting himself between you and your desk and towering over you with one hand on each of your chair’s arms. “Y/n. Let it go. For now, at least.”

You tried to lean to the side to look at your computer, but Miles dipped his head so you were looking at him instead.

Your face scrunched slowly, tears coming to your eyes again. You felt like sobbing, but throat was tightening and you could make no noise.

Miles dropped to his knees, wrapping both his arms around your middle and holding your head against his shoulder.

You threw your arms around him in turn, unleashing everything at last. You’d think that you’d been blowing off steam during your argument, but no; that had only made things so much worse.

You told it all. The overworking, the exhaustion, the misery—everything. The words came out strained between hiccuping sobs and shushing reassurances from Miles, and when you finished you spent a while longer burying your face in his hoodie.

“I never want that to happen again,” you whimpered.

“Neither do I. I hate seeing you all stressed out like that.”

You separated, wiping your face with your sleeve and looking at Miles with red, puffy eyes. “Am I a bad person?”

He shook his head, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands. “Nah, you just… suck at coping.”

That got a bittersweet giggle out of you. You looked away, abashed.

“Don’t worry, though. I’m gonna help you. I never wanna see you like this again. I want you to take breaks, don’t overwork yourself… and don’t go online when you’re upset, yeah? That’s, like, one of the worst things you can do.”

You frowned, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah… I think I can try that.” You finally met his gaze, and your frown turned into a small smile. “If you’ll help me.”

Miles grinned, leaning in for a tender kiss. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Thank you so much for this amazing request!! And thanks for reading, take care lovelies <33

(divider by saradika)

[depravitymoon]

Yandere Bucci Gang by Mental Instability

Mental instability: How normal do they look to society?

1 is you'd think they're normal.

5 is having moments of insanity slip through.

10 is everyone sees a walking red flag.

Trish 1/10

Giorno 2/10

Bruno 4/10

Narancia 5/10

Mista 6/10

Fugo 7/10

Abbacchio 7/10

Explanations below

Acts normal

Trish - Trish is just a normal girl, so she does know how to act in public. Yandere Trish, I imagine as a prima donna. She wants you and she wants to be the center of your world. If it means ruining your life to make that happen, she will. Don't worry, she'll be there to comfort you. However, she'll sabotage your life by ruining your reputation, so I imagine she does need to act as normal as possible.

Giorno - Canonically, most stable because he rarely acts out in public unless there's a dire situation. With Yan!GioGio, I imagine he tries to keep a normal demeanor. As Don, he might have a power trip, but I doubt that would last. He's able to charm people out their belongings, he can totally charm you into believing he's not crazy.

Has their moments

Bruno - Charming guy, but honestly, he is not stable considering his backstory and how he licks people to tell if they're lying. Canonically, he beats people in public and is very nonchalant when his crew was beating on an obvious civilian, even allowing them to stuff the mam with potentially poisonous food. Also, the blurted out that he and his crew was trying to find Diavolo in broad daylight where the enemy can easily spot them. If it wasn't for the fact Bruno is canonically loved by the locals, I would deem him too mentally unstable to be normal in society. Yandere Bruno might not act differently in terms of his private and public antics.

Narancia - Canon Nara is okay. Yeah, he burnt down street and explode cars, but it was in a dire situation. He also freaked out when he realized he was beating on a civilian. With Yandere!Nara, I imagine he's too childish to keep a stable demeanor if you reject his clinginess. He will pout, he will shout, he will lash out. He might also stab. Being delusional does not help.

Mista - Homeboy was randomly stealing people's money outside of theaters, willing to almost die to do so, and boldly stood up against a bunch of armed men. Also, in Trish's body, he was willing to touch private parts in public and blurt out very private information about Trish. Definitely not stable. Yandere Mista is delusional, so he will rationalize his actions of committing violence in broad daylight. He's only in this category because he seems laidback enough to not have people be constantly cautious of him.

Walking Red flags

Fugo - His outbursts are a problem and in the anime backstory, he warned that his temper gets so bad that it might kill Bruno. Also, Abbacchio had to keep Fugo from going off the deep end with his emotions twice in the anime. Most importantly, we're introduced to him violently beating up his own best friend over being a little shit about math. Then casually apologized as if he and Narancia weren't about to fight to the death. Yandere Fugo still has outbursts.

Abbacchio - Willing to pee in teapots in public, viciously beat a man in public and when he found out the man was an innocent civilian, forced fed the man food to see if it's poisoned. Gonna be honest, Abbacchio does not strike me as stable. Yandere Abbacchio would be plagued with depression and paranoia that you'll be abandon him like so many others have, either through death or being disappointed in him.

I rated both Fugo and Abacchio a 7, but I think Abbacchio's slightly worse. Fugo attempts to be better. Abbacchio actively seeks to act unhinged.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 35

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board!

Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Cue my giddy snickering.

"So, what'd you do?" My Dad asks the prisoners, as we're eating breakfast in the courtyard the next morning. "Whose life you ruin?"

All the walker bodies have been dragged into a pile over by the dumpsters and burnt into nothing more than a few lumps of charcoal, leaving the courtyard as quiet as it's been since we got here. With the snarls and growls finally gone, I can hear birds chirping on the roofs of the cell blocks, the beautiful sound of silence beyond them. It might be the first time we've been completely sealed away from danger.

If Rick wasn't still inside with Lori, Carl, and the baby, I think he'd feel the same way.

"Nobody's but my own, man," Oscar chuckles dryly. He shakes his head, spooning some stewed corn and beans into his mouth, chewing absentmindedly. "There's nothing more to it than my people were poor as dirt. Got to be that I was dumb and desperate enough to steal from a Walmart. I should'a been handing my resume in, or something, but no. Sentenced three years over a pack of diapers."

I look up from my bowl to study the regret on his face, finding myself surprised. Shop-lifting diapers?

That wasn't what I thought he was in prison for at all.

"Sorry to hear that," Glenn says sympathetically, exactly my thoughts. "World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either."

"Me, I got caught with, y'know," Axel gestures vaguely, "Drugs and stuff. In my car. I was parked outside a police station, and I ain't had a home at the time. I think wanted to get locked up, if that makes sense. I'd been in and out a bunch of times. Only thing I knew."

"Sounds like someone I knew," Dad scoffs, and I know he's talking about my Uncle Merle. "The dumb bastard."

"So, you ain't, like," I frown at the prisoners in confusion, "Bad?"

Oscar laughs a little. "Not everybody who ends up in prison is bad, kid."

"I know that," I argue as I eat another spoonful of stew. "My Daddy was in prison, and he ain't bad. But some of 'em is."

"We ain't had the best track record when it comes to strangers," Maggie explains to them, putting it lightly. "Or even friends."

"Hey," He shrugs. "No offence taken. You gotta be careful out here."

"There were some seriously bad eggs in there, though," Axel agrees with me. "You bet'cha. Made life a livin' Hell for the rest of us."

Oscar looks at my Dad. "You're her Dad, right? You went to prison, too?"

"Arrendale State Prison," He nods, slurping up the stew in his bowl. "February of '04. I was released far before all this shit started."

"What crime?"

"Aggravated manslaughter."

Axel's eyes widen. "Damn, mister. I ain't sayin' you don't look the type, but I would'a thought you stole a car or somethin'."

Wiping his mouth, he smirks. "Who says I ain't did both?"

"Skills like those sound like they'd come in handy nowadays," Oscar says, "So, Hell. We ain't here to judge anyone in your group."

"You gotta stop saying, 'your group'," Maggie scolds him, smiling. "We got off on the wrong foot, but for all intents and purposes, there's only one group here. We ain't have to be best friends or anythin', and we'll be watchin' you, but you've proven yourselves."

"But I thought you said—...?"

Yesterday, we served 'em a death sentence by forcing them outta the gates — Today we're eating stew together. 

"Listen. There was a man named Shane," Glenn levels with them. "He was the first one. He was Rick's best friend for fifteen years and we all watched him go crazy without any power to stop it, until he tried kidnapping Harley. He was shot and beaten to death."

There's the loud, BANG, and the sound of my crying spilling out afterwards. That was one of the worst days of my life.

The prisoners share a glance with each other.

"The second man was Jim," He continues. "He didn't have the best interests of the group at heart and we kicked him out for that. And when we ran into him a few months later, we saw that hadn't changed. He threatened to ruin what we'd built. We hung him in a barn."

That one didn't make much sound at all — Barely a, snap.

"Your friends, Tomas and Andrew. And there were so many others. A group that took over a town near our old farm, people on the road, assholes, thieves. We've got good people here. We're family. But we haven't let our goodness make us idiots."

I'd almost forgotten the violence we'd committed over the past year, the deaths, a hundred little wounds scarred over with time.

Axel and Oscar remain silent as they stomach his words, the underlying threat there — We've killed better men for less.

Shane was Rick's right-hand man, a brother, and one of the most important people to the group, but even that couldn't save him in the end. Jim was a father, a resilient little weasel who worked harder than anybody else back at the quarry, and I saw him die, too. I saw all manner of men die. The prisoners risked their lives by leavin' this place, but they also risked them by comin' back to help us. They chose to do that. I'on know too much about what makes a trustworthy stranger, and I ain't even sure if such a thing exists, but I imagine it's a start. 

"Ya ain't idiots," Axel agrees, looking between Dad, Glenn, and Maggie with his honest eyes. "You can trust us."

Oscar puts on a reassuring smile. "We get it, man."

For two fellers who've just been threatened with torture and execution if they misbehave, they don't look so frightened.

I guess they don't plan on it, then.

"Good," Glenn slowly nods at their answers. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to you, by the way. You're welcome."

Axel's moustache skews to the side as he smiles. "Thank you, dudes."

"And it ain't just kiss-ass for a bowl of stew," Oscar warns us, gesturing with his spoon. "'Cause this shit tastes like ass."

"I'll let the chef know," Maggie jokes.

It looks like our group just got a little bit bigger.

"Go on, then." Dad juts his chin out in the direction of the cell block. "My guess is you ought'a get outta them scrubs if yer stayin'. Just ask for a lady, Carol — She can sort that out for ya. T-Dog's old stuff should fit ya, but I ain't so sure about Stringbean."

"'Stringbean'?" Axel complains, looking down at himself.

"Maybe you can find somethin' in Glenny's wardrobe," Maggie smiles, poking him in the ribs. "Ain't that right?"

"Hardy, har."

As they stand from the table with their empty bowls, Axel adds, "We really appreciate it. Thanks for not letting us die."

"Sure. Git," Dad grits, watching as they make their way back into the prison, before looking at me. "What'chu thinkin', chicken?"

Chewing my stew, I garble, "I gesh dey don't sheem sho bad."

"Nah, they don't," He agrees, reaching out with his spoon to clean the dribble off my chin. "You don't gotta worry about 'em, okay?"

I swallow as he pulls away, warning him, "But I'on think Mouse is a fan. He was growlin' at 'em."

"I'm sure they'll figure that out," Glenn reassures me, chuckling. "If that's the only problem they have, I'd say they got off lucky."

"Not if they screw this up, they won't," I exclaim, raising my spoon like a knife. "That happens, I'mma knife 'em in the knee!"

"Hey, and I'll let'cha," Dad jokes as he puts his hand over mine to lower the spoon. "But right now, I want'chu to finish all yer food."

"Okay, Dad."

Breakfast goes by slowly, like any good morning should.

The baby — Until the Grimes agree on a name, that's what I'll call her. The baby — loves to sleep.

I guess being born takes up just as much energy as giving birth, because Lori says until she's a few months old, this is all she'll do. I can't exactly play soccer with her right now, or even teach her to draw a picture, but I don't mind waiting. She's cute enough just like this, with her eyes closed, small tummy rising and falling with softs breaths as she dozes off in my arms, hopefully dreaming of something sweet.

What do babies dream of? Milk? Sheep, prancing in circles? They even got enough memories to form a nightmare, yet?

Watching on with a fond smile, Lori muses quietly, "I told you."

The baby makes a grunt, squirming around in the tightly swaddled blanket before she relaxes, content.

No. No nightmares.

Looking up at my Dad, I ask him, "Was I like this?"

A faint smirk tugs at his mouth, as if he's recalling a memory. "Nah, you was a fiend. Your Momma and I couldn't get'chu to sleep for nothin'. Had to pace around with you for hours on the porch just for a wink. Sing, hum. Let'chu listen to the rain, cars, birds."

"Sounds like she was a fussy one," Lori smiles, reaching out to stroke her thumb across the baby's smooth head.

"I ain't never met a baby who could pull an angry face quite like Harley could," He scoffs. "Had the temper of a stick of dynamite."

Under the weight of his tired gaze, Rick smirks a little. "So, not much has changed, then." 

Sticking my tongue out at them both, I look back down at the baby, gasping as her eyelids begin to flutter.

"She's openin' her eyes," I exclaim with excitement, handing her off to Lori. Her Momma should be the first thing she sees. Not me!

"Oh, my gosh," The woman breathes.

All at once, with her forehead wrinkled against the brightness of the room, she opens her eyes for the very first time. Green. Wow. They're the same colour as Lori's, dark and pretty like the wet leaves on a forest floor, staring curiously up at the matching pair.

Rick scoots closer and grins down at her, a chuckle escaping him as she studies his face next.

Even though I love my Mom and Dad more than anything in the world, and I wouldn't trade them for anybody else, I can still say with certainty that this baby is real lucky to have a Dad like Rick and even luckier to have a Mom like Lori. She got gentle hands, a voice made for telling fairytales, and the patience of a saint. Her smile is the type that nobody could be mad at when they're on the receivin' end of it.

My Gramma Dixon ain't had one of them smiles. In all the photos I've ever seen of her, she had a smile like a row of yellow piano keys, black holes left where her rotten teeth had fallen out from smoking so much and so often, but I had never seen it in person.

When my Dad was thirteen years old, the same age as Carl, the smoke of a stray cigarette caught onto his Momma's bedsheets while she was sleepin' and she, the house, and everything that was in it went up in flames, with a single black smear to prove it ever stood.

That's why whenever my Dad finishes a cigarette, he spends a second longer than anybody else would making sure it's out.

Glenn's got it right — World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either.

Havin' any Mom, let alone a Mom as good as Lori, was a special thing even before the world went to shit.

"She gon' love havin' you as her Momma," I smile to Lori.

And if you were my Momma, I'm too embarrassed to say, I'd be lucky, too.

As if I've just minced her heart between my fingers, the woman pouts, managing a smile. "Thank you, honey. That's nice of you to say."

I don't ever remember dreaming of milk or sheep or soft things with gentle colors, but I'm glad this baby will, even if just for now.

The sound of the toilet flushing fills my ears as I push past the stall door, approaching my Dad who's waiting for me by the sinks. He lifts me by the armpits onto the little plastic foot stool that Glenn found a few days ago, carefully setting me down on it.

"You sure I can't stay up just a little longer?" I ask as I tweak on the water, pumping soap into my hands.

"How much is, a little longer?"

"Hm... Five minutes?"

"I already let'chu finish yer card game with Carl and Beth," He reminds me. "My generous mood's run out, now. It's late, y'know."

"Okay, Captain Obvious," I sigh, scrubbing my hands together under the water before shutting it off.

"Watch it, Captain Smartass." He takes my hand and helps me jump off the stool, leading me through the door and down the corridor, before he randomly comes to a stop. As I turn around to face him, he crouches down to my level. "But I gotta talk to you first."

"About what?" I pout, worried I might be in trouble. "If Carl told you I cheated at cards, it ain't tru—"

"I ain't talkin' about that," He reassures me, raising his brows. "And you're lucky I ain't, 'cause I'on believe you for a second."

"Okay. Maybe I peeped at Beth's cards."

"Yeah. Maybe." With an empty chuckle, his expression slowly dampens, turning serious. "It's about Axel and Oscar."

"Huh?"

"I trust 'em," He begins, but I got no idea where he's goin' with this. "What I always saw in Shane and all the other douchebags like 'im, I'on see in them. Some folks, you can just tell. Axel's a sorry loser just like yer Daddy and Uncle Merle used to be, and Oscar's a Dad."

My Dad's what some people call, a good judge of character. Nodding along in agreement, I let him continue.

"If I thought they was any sorta threat to you," He promises, "Even if it was just breakin' yer favorite crayon, then—..."

"Then, you'd kill 'em," I finish, remembering the sight of his shadow swinging down on Jim's face through the slats of the shed wall, the big, black bag the paramedics wheeled outta the woods, the way Shane's blood pooled out across the dirty tiles. "I know."

"So, I guess this ain't really about them, 'cause they ain't gonna hurt you. It's about you, baby."

"M—Me?"

"You ain't in trouble." He says again, soothing my nerves. "I prolly should'a had this conversation wit'chu months ago, but you know I ain't so good with 'conversations', so it's happenin' now. I need you to know what happened with Shane weren't your fau—"

"Why are you sayin' that?" I cut him off, feeling like it's wrong for Shane's name to be in his mouth. "I d—"

"Just listen to me." He grabs my shoulders, stern and strong. Quips and hot venom brew on my tongue, but I bite it down, knowing that if I lash out, I'll actually be in trouble. I can't stop him from mentioning Shane, violating him even in that way, like he used to do with my Momma's name when he threw insults at her and told lies about her to strangers. I have to remember — Shane ain't my Momma. They was both sick, but only one loved me. I'm pretending to know which one that was. "It weren't. But we could'a done things differently."

Don't talk to strangers, He and Merle always told me. Is that what he means?

"I-I don't get it," I shake my head in confusion. "I'm allowed to talk to Axel and Oscar. They ain't strangers."

"Neither was Shane, baby." He counters. "Spent so much energy teachin' you not to trust assholes like Ronnie, I ain't never taught you not to trust assholes like Shane — Typa guy that makes it past yer doorstep and tries to be yer friend."

I temper my glare. "What'chu gettin' at, Daddy?"

"You know grown men can't be friends with little girls." He explains patiently, his grip on me tightening. "Rick and Glenn, they're different. They's like yer Uncles. Ya get along with 'em, but they're there to protect ya, just like I am. Axel and Oscar ain't like that. You ever meet anybody like 'em, you don't do anythin' that makes you uncomfortable. You don't give 'em anythin' they want. You don't let 'em trick ya."

Shane. I did all those things with Shane. He did all those things with me.

"And you always tell me if any of that happens. Always. Ya ain't never gon' get in trouble for what other people choose to do."

"The prisoners ain't tried to be my friend," I assure him. "And I ain't tried to be theirs. Promise."

"I know. I'm proud'a you for that." His grip loosens, fingers sliding down my arms, dropping in his lap. "But do you understand me?"

"I think so."

"I'mma somethin' better'un, I think."

Frowning, I think. Shane weren't my fault. Dad said that since the beginning. I guess he only wants to make sure it never happens again, like how it ain't yer fault if a dog bites ya, but you can always learn to recognize a violent animal and turn your back on its teeth.

I shouldn't have let Shane corner me in the car while the rest of the group was distracted in that supermarket.

Shouldn't have played into his stupid game, neither, by punching him in the face when he asked me to.

Definitely shouldn't have agreed to be his friend.

Dad's always gonna look out for me, but, "I understand."

"Okay. Good girl. Smart girl," He nods, standing and taking my hand in his, leading me down the corridor. "I love you, chicken."

"Love you, Daddy. But I thought you said I was allowed to knife 'em?"

"You can knife 'em first, and then I'll kill 'em," He jokes. "Deal?"

"Deal."

He chuckles to himself. "Let's get'chu to bed, then."

"Easy, boy," Axel smiles, scratching Mouse's ear as he watches him gobble up the meat in his hand. "There ya go."

From my seat nearby, as I wait to leave with Dad and Glenn for a supply run, I don't bother callin' Mouse over yet. The dog ain't my toy or nothin', but I should still share him with the prisoners. I know they ain't seen one in years, so I let him have the moment.

When Carl walks past me, I ask him, "You sure ya don't wanna come with us?"

"Thanks, but I'm sure. I'm just tired today," He turns to send me a smile, before continuing toward Axel. "Hey. Got more food."

"Oh, thanks, dude," He says happily, accepting it.

"He really likes this stuff."

It's taken almost a full month not only for Mouse to warm up to the new members of our group, but for the others, too.

We ain't best friends or nothin', like Maggie said, but it turns out they're a better fit for our family than I first thought.

Axel really is just a sorry loser with a good heart, who I've learnt over the past couple days wasn't kiddin' when he said he loved dogs. He's almost never more than a few feet away from Mouse, bribing him with treats or scraps of his own dinner, sometimes accidently calling him, Goober, the name of his old dog. When I look at him, I see all the other sorry losers we used to live with in our trailer park, his twangy accent and his stories of punking the police when he was younger weirdly comforting to me. Dad don't seem so offended by him, neither.

Oscar's the type of person who talks a lot around the dinner table, just like Carl and Maggie are. He's always got a snarky, good-natured joke to throw in here and there, or a reassuring tidbit to share when somebody opens up about something in their past.

When it comes to his own past, though, he suddenly ain't so much of a chatterbox no more.

I can only assume his wife and baby are among all the people we've lost, too. I wouldn't wanna talk about 'em, neither.

Rick watches Oscar standing there with a guarded look on his face, my Dad drawing his attention away by nudging his elbow, holding two guns out to him. With another glance at Axel, who's giggling like a small child at Mouse's enthusiasm for the food, he takes them.

"Axel. Oscar," Rick calls out, coming to a stop in front of them. As they look up at him, he offers a gun to each of them.

Axel's eyes widen as he stands up. "You serious, Mister?"

Oh — That's another thing. Axel doesn't call people Ma'am or Mister to butter 'em up. It's just his Southern manners.

"Daryl and Glenn are leaving for a few hours," He explains as Axel hesitantly reaches out for the gun, treating it more like a live grenade. For all the petty crimes he's committed, I'on think he's ever actually held a gun. Oscar takes his slightly more confidently, knowing exactly where to put his fingers, though he don't seem to like it. "With them gone, I think it's time you stepped up, helped us protect this place."

"Sure thing," Oscar nods, checking the mag is empty before stuffing the gun in his pants line. "Happy to, chief."

"Now, you mentioned you got experience," He reminds him, before turning to look expectantly at Axel.

In the silence that follows, the man offers, "I shot a slingshot, once. Busted in some rich old lady's Rolls-Royce window with it."

Rick's expression remains stoney. "A slingshot?"

"Yeah! Real cool one."

"A slingshot."

Awkwardly, he says again, "Yeah."

"Right." Rick gives him a friendly pat on the back, almost knocking him off balance. "We're gonna have to train you up a bit."

"Well, have fun," Glenn muses as he slings his backpack on, with Dad gesturing for me to stand up. "See you guys later."

Carl smiles, "See you later."

"C'mon, boy!" I call out to Mouse, clapping my hands. "Time to go."

"Remember, she doesn't handle the whole-wheat blend very well," Lori warns us, rocking baby Judith in her arms. It's good to finally see her outta bed again, to have her sitting around the breakfast table next to Herschel just like she always used to do.

"We'll look around for somethin' different this time. Trust me. I remember," Dad reassures her as he leads us up the concrete steps and pushes past the exit door, letting it close behind us before he mutters to me and Glenn, "She only threw up on my face twice."

"Eugh," I giggle, walking alongside them down the corridor. "That's gross."

"You ain't gonna talk to me about gross, missy," He jokes. "Who's that kid that spat chewed-up salami into my lap again, Rhee?"

Glenn chuckles at that. "Oh, yeah. I think her name was—...?"

"Somethin' beginin' with an, H, right?"

"Shut up," I giggle even harder as Glenn opens the main door, turning to lock it behind us. "It was an accident!"

"Ha—? Harriet," Dad pretends to struggle guessing, completely ignoring me. "Holly? Harley—?"

"Ohhh. Harley," Glenn exclaims as he stuffs the key back in his pocket. "That was it."

"Yeah, that's ringin' a bell."

"Shut up," I complain again, dragging him over to the gate. "C'mon. Me and Mouse wanna go!"

Agreeing, the dog lets out a, ruff.

This might only be the fourth time I've been on a scavenge this month, but I'd be lyin' if I said it ain't just as excitin' as the first time. Sure, the adults watch over me and Carl the whole time, and we only ever go to the same store, but everybody says we been doin' a good job and it's true. The worst thing that's happened to us is getting spooked by a rat running across our path, and even that was fun. 

"Okay, we're comin'," Dad chuckles raspily, letting me pull him along. "We're comin'."

"What do you wanna play this time, Harley?" Glenn asks.

As Dad opens the gate to the field, Mouse is the first one out, running ahead of us down the path.

I kick a pebble down the hill, thinking. "What about eye-spy?"

He locks it shut. "Didn't we do that one last time?"

"Yeah, but I lost," I argue as we follow after the dog.

"So, a re-match," Glenn says in understanding. "Sure. Who's going first?"

"Me!"

"Is it that leaf over there?"

"Nope."

"What about that leaf over there?"

"Still nope."

"That leaf?"

"You can't just guess every single leaf you see, Harley," Glenn chuckles. "The game would never end."

"So, it's not a leaf?"

"Not a leaf," He agrees. "Come on. You can do it."

Walking down the side of the highway, I look around for anything, Small and green. If it ain't leaves, or any of the hundreds of other things I've guessed so far, I'm screwed. In the distance, the tall sign for the strip mall pokes out from the trees, growing closer.

"Can't just look at what's in front of ya," Dad says helpfully, squeezing my hand. "Hunter's eye's gotta see everythin'."

Humming in concentration, I look down instead, noticing it instantly — The green beetle clinging to my shorts.

A giggle escapes me as I rest a finger near the insect's tiny head, letting it crawl onto me, holding it up to my face. "It was you!"

"Point for Harley," Glenn smiles as we step over the curb, entering the dumpster area behind the strip mall. The forest falls away behind us, making way for concrete and scattered litter. "You were taking so long; I was worried it was gonna fly away."

I turn a suspicious eye on my Dad. "Hang on. Did you let me win?"

"I might'a noticed it a couple minutes ago," He muses.

I flinch as the beetle's pearly wings whip out from under its shell, flickering into a blur, before it takes off into the trees.

"Aw." I pout, distracted by its disappearing shape as we approach the side of the building. "Bye, beetl—"

"Stop."

Stop?

Dad drops my hand. He slings his crossbow off his shoulder, training the sights ahead of us as Glenn grabs me, forcing me up against the wall with him. The warm brick presses against my back, Glenn's thick heartbeat thudding rhythmically beneath my fingers as I grip his wrist. I hold my breath. Suddenly, we're hiding — From what? From who? — and I couldn't care less that we didn't finish the game.

What's wrong, I desperately want to ask them, instead clinging tighter to Glenn, cowering, making myself small.

I try to get a glimpse of what's going on in the main parking lot, but I'm not close enough.

With his shoulders tensed and footsteps light, Dad creeps forward, peeking around the wall.

"It's okay," Glenn whispers to me, turning to scold a growling Mouse, "Shh, boy. Shh."

I focus on the nearby sounds — Someone's car engine idling, boots scraping against tarmac, hushed voices. People. It's people.

As Dad pulls back behind the wall, Glenn asks him, "How many?"

"I count three," He exhales, glancing down at me for a moment, before shaking his head. "We gotta go."

"Okay. Come on." Glenn gently tugs me by the hand, pulling me along with him in the direction we came. "It's okay."

"C'mon, chicken," Dad encourages.

We stick close to the wall, Dad scanning the back parking lot with a slow sweep of his sights, before giving us a nod, letting us know the way is clear and leading us down onto the tarmac. Everything opens up. My gaze darts from the dumpsters pressed up against the chain-link fence, to the trash littered across the ground, to the distant trees, the sky, the back of my Dad's head, Mouse at his heel. 

Dad takes one step back over the broken curb, his boot hitting the grass on the other side.

My fingers tighten around Glenn's as I lift my foot to do the same.

I'm taking a sigh of relief — The forest is right there. We can slip away — but the breath in my lungs is stolen from me. I stumble backwards into Glenn. A man shoots out from behind a rusted car, tackling my Dad, and a gasp escapes me, loud and sharp.

"Daddy!" I shriek, watching him tank the sudden impact with a grunt.

"Boys!" The man shouts over his shoulder. "Over here!"

Squeezing my hand, Glenn draws his gun, acting unsure if he should run with me or stay and fight. "Daryl?"

"Stay with Harley!" He orders.

We watch as Dad shoves the man off him in one powerful movement, sending his stocky body tumbling.

The man lands against the car door. The window cracks under his elbow, glass shattering, tinkling, falling at his feet. He groans like an animal, blood trickling down his forearm as he rears it back again, knife in his hand, about to stab Dad wherever he can.

Dad's crossbow comes down on the man's arm and the knife goes flying, clattering loudly across the parking lot.

"Fuck—" He cries, disarmed, before Dad takes a step back and — FWIP — unleashes a bolt into his face.

The man's legs give out, body slumping to the ground.

"What's going on back here?!" A voice shouts, footsteps approaching. "Eric?"

Glenn whips his gun around, shoving me behind him so fast; I only catch a glimpse of the — two? — men pouring into the parking lot before I'm pressing my face into the back of his shirt, squeezing his hand so tight I think I might break a few of his bones.

"Holy shit," One of the men exclaims as their footsteps come to a stop in front of us. "Eric! God, he's dead!"

"You'll be dead, too, if ya don't back the Hell up!" Dad barks at them, taking a step forward. "Back up!"

"You fucking killed him!"

"He attacked us first!" Glenn counters. "Put the guns down!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Who's that behind you?"

"Hey! You keep yer eyes on us and put'cher fuckin' guns down!"

The arguing, shouting, — Mouse's relentless barking — gets louder and louder with each second, ruminating into one big cloud of noise around me as I squeeze my eyes shut. I only wanted to help them scavenge some baby formula, enjoy the sun and the breeze, maybe win at eye-spy. Home is only a ten-minute walk from here. No, no, it wasn't supposed to go like this. It's never gone like this.

"Put that goddamn crossbow down!"

"I ain't doin' shit!"

"Everybody, shut up!"

The parking lot falls silent. I hear the footsteps of a third man approaching, slow and calm, like an angry teacher.

"They killed Eric," One of them exclaims. "We heard him shout for us."

"And this piece of shit here killed him. I saw it."

The footsteps slow to a stop, and no response comes. I wait for a gunshot or a punch to be thrown, but that doesn't come, neither.

After the pause has gone on too long, the man hesitates to ask, "Boss, what's wrong? Are we killing 'em, or not?"

"I said, shut up, Gavin."

Oh.

That voice.

Mer—?

No.

Merle is dead.

Merle was chained to roof and eaten by walkers and he's dead and he's gone and I mourned him and ghosts ain't real.

My movements in slow motion, I loosen my grip on Glenn's hand, my body going numb as I dare to peek out around his hip. As the scene reveals itself to me, a curtain pulled over a window inch by inch, everything hits me like a ton of bricks, years, names, memories.

The man standing at the front of the small crowd stares, gawking, at my Dad, unbothered by his confused friends.

When he glances down at me, his arm pointing the gun at us falters.

Our eyes lock, and suddenly ghosts are real.

I can feel myself start to cry, I think.

Merle.

Author's Note.

It's Merle! Is there anything more to say? He's back!

I'm going to have my work cut out for me in the coming chapters. Trauma, emotions. Here we come.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, everyone. 💙

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I played the last game by myself? to find it-> 🎮👾🕹️

So I [26NB] and three of my friends have been playing this game series for a while now it’s been probably a little under a year at this point that we’ve been chugging through these games (there’s, I believe, five games in total with a spin off and each game has multiple parts/chapters). We’ve been setting aside a day every week depending on our work and life availability to play through it. Normally getting a chapter a night or half a chapter depending on the length. Of course not every week we can do it cause of life and that's totally fine.

A little extra info on the games because I find it relevant. So the first game I actually played by myself cause the other three started without me (this was their thing they planned and invited me into later when I showed interest in the game) and I spent that time working to catch up to where they were in the game so I could join them. I did have a lot of fun playing the game as the game play is just as fun as the story to me and even when I get stuck the walk throughs are really easy to read and helpful. I'm not known for my gaming and actually watch playthroughs for stuff instead of plaything them myself cause I just all around suck at video games but this is one of the few games I like playing personally.

Once I played through the first game I hopped onboard the group plays with the other three to hang out and play together. Two of the friends have already played the whole series (lets call ‘em Lucy and Zeref) and know all the story where me and the third friend (let's call them Gray) didn't know anything at all about the series before we started playing. Part of the joy of these games for the both of us is getting to experience the exciting story in real time. As these games actually have a fairly large following and are pretty popular but some how both of us have gone most our lives with little to no spoilers for the series. This game is also full of crazy twists and turns that are VERY exciting to experience live.

Because of this fact I've also spent so much effort and time staying away from spoilers but still trying to interact with the fandom which is where not impossible just kinda frustrating cause there's a lot of art and fics and convos I'm missing out of because of it. I've even made another friend outside of this small group who ALSO likes these games but we don't talk about them much cause they're afraid of spoiling things for me by accident. Which, while very kind of them, is also in it's own way kinda frustrating.

We are currently on the fourth game and, honestly I've been thinking about just playing the last game and the spin off by myself at this point. There's two reasons for this. The first is that the games are just dragging on far too much to be fun anymore for me. I think it’s a mix of the fact that this fourth game is apparently one of, if not the, longest in the series and also that because of scheduling changes our weekly get togethers are much shorter now. Both of these factors causing us to take much longer to get through the chapters and this game. It’s really making it much harder to enjoy and even my roommate last week said I looked really tired and seemed burnt out during the session. It also doesn’t help that these meetups are online so I also don’t get to physically play the game myself and I can’t just ask to have the controller for a bit cause all of us are states away. 

The other part to this is that, honestly, me and these friends have not been talking as much. Something happened around the time we started the fourth game where I had a bunch of huge life changing events happen to me and I was severely depressed and grieving because of it. Due to some mixed up emotions on all sides and miscommunication, we had a hiccup in our friendship. There was a moment where I was genuinely scared of losing them but we talked it out like adults and things were better. However, ever since then it really does feel like the three of them talk a lot less to me now. I, at first, believed it was just my imagination. I do have some issues with my perception of reality due to mental heath but I always keep a very strong foot on the ground and go to people when I really feel like I can’t tell if I’m being crazy or not. So I chalked it up to me having a Moment(™) and just kept on like nothing was wrong. I even threw myself into DMs and out a lot more to try and make up for it. Instead of hiding away and being sad I tried to get them to interact with me more by really engaging in our friendships and chats. Unfortunately this hasn’t really helped the feeling of growing separation and light (possibly even unconscious) ignoring on their parts and I’m really feeling weighed down by it these days. It’s making these sessions even harder for me because no matter how much fun I have with them it makes the silence outside of the calls even more hollow and gut wrenching. 

A while back I did actually go to Gray and talk about my feelings mostly towards the way us playing the game is taking so long and causing burn out, and even suggested that instead of leaving the game nights completely, just playing the rest of them on my own and still hopping in with them when they do it. Gray was really sad with this cause they really enjoyed how both of us were going in blind together and they didn’t wanna be the only one who didn’t know anything while everyone else did. I understand that and felt really bad so I kept playing with them as a group. But the above feelings just got worse and worse. 

To top it off, Lucy has stopped coming to the game nights all together and I don’t really know why. As far as I’m aware they haven’t said anything at least not publicly in our chat about it and I didn’t feel it my place to pry. They also just haven’t been talking in the chat at all which feels extra bad cause I’ve always felt closest to Lucy and Gray at the end of the day. I’ve been chatting with Lucy in DMs here and there and they never seem disinterested in our conversation or like they no longer wanna be friends or anything. But it’s still really saddening as I am not really the DM type of person and am better at interacting in group chats and the like. So I feel like our already dying friendship is just going down hill faster. 

I just really wanna play the games and get it over with. I miss being able to play them physically and these game nights are starting to just worsen my mood as we go. I’m really not sure what to do cause I know Gray (and probably Zeref a little too) will be real upset if I drop out completely or if I play ahead of them. A part of me almost thought about playing the games in secret and pretending like I didn’t to spare their feelings and still make it fun for them and relieve all this stress off myself which I don’t know if that would be better or worse

What are these acronyms?

[dunkzillla]

Person A and Person B trying to bake a cake from scratch from memory and messing up. I think that would be marvelous with just about any Mox ship.

oh bcc before implosion my beloved! this was fun to write, thank you sarah!

mox/yuta but implies mox/yuta/eddie and also mox/renee!

——————

“I’ll Google the recipe.”

“Nah, I know how to make a cake, Yoots.”

Yuta raises his eyebrows at Mox, who’s pulling flour, butter, sugar and eggs out of their respective homes and dumping them on the counter. It was his idea to bake Eddie a cake, because he feels bad that they’ve not been able to visit him in a while and it was his birthday and he just wanted to do something nice for him. But of course, Mox is going to make this whole thing way more difficult than it should be.

“I mean yeah so do I but I don’t know how much of stuff we need.” Yuta says, and he’s tapping in ‘chocolate cake’ recipe into Google, before Mox is plucking the phone out of his hand and shoving it on top of the kitchen cabinets. Eddie’s kitchen cabinets, which probably haven’t been dusted or cleaned in god knows how long.

“Hey!”

“We don’t need a recipe, babe, I’ve seen Renee do this a bunch of times. It’s all like one to two or one to one ratios.” Mox says, and Yuta stares at him, Mox, with all new bald head and scruffy beard, the toothpick sticking out of his mouth as he chews on it, thinks he’s watched Renee bake a cake enough times to know how to do it by heart.

He holds his hands up, he’ll let Mox do what he wants, and when the cake turns out shit, he’ll take great delight in letting Eddie know that he had absolutely nothing to do with it.

As it turns out, Mox doesn’t know how to make a cake with no recipe.

The first batch is more like a cookie dough because Mox adds way too much flour and as soon as he adds extra eggs it goes all gooey and lumpy. They throw it away and start again, and Mox still doesn’t concede that they need to Google it.

The second batch curdles, but it at least resembles cake batter, and Mox declares it a success and puts it in the oven.

Which, he then pushes Yuta against the counter and makes out with him the whole time, almost missing the timer (that he’d blindly set for like 40 minutes, because apparently that’s how long they take to cook) going off.

The cake is burnt to shit and sets the fire alarm off. It wakes Eddie up from his med induced nap and he shouts “Hey! What the fuck are you doing to my kitchen in there?”

It’s stuck in the tins, and Yuta’s pretty sure that no amount of scrubbing or soaking is going to get the concrete like cake off the sides and bottoms.

“Alright, I give up, we’ll buy him a cake from the store.”

Yuta points to the top of the cupboard, where his phone is still sitting. “You could have just let me Google the recipe. Pretty sure Renee’s recipe is probably online.”

Mox slides his fingers into Yuta’s and pushes him against the counter, kissing him again. “Now where would the fun in that be?” He hums, and Yuta can’t help but laugh against his mouth.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, I do—“

“Hey! What the hell is taking so long with my cake?” Eddie shouts from the living room, and Mox just grins wide.

“Let’s go blow him and distract him while you order something on that phone of yours.”

Yuta doesn’t need to be told twice.

[fefesoutsiderstuff]

More Autistic Cherry Stuff

Started masking around the age of five when she noticed her classmates didn't seem to like her as much as they did her other classmates, connected it to behaviors that were perceived as odd/abnormal.

"Kids my age don't like me because I'm weird" eventually led to: "How much interest, as an average, would you say your peers have in Medieval European geopolitics?" "I don't know what that is." "Oh." *frantically writes in little notebook: delete all evidence of interest in/knowledge of the Middle Ages, Europe, and geopolitics* "Why?" "I just heard those words on the TV last night." "And you decided to... do that?" "...Yes."

Perpetually struggles to copy others while not being super obvious and maintaining enough honesty that she seems interesting

Tries to be more outgoing -> joining random conversations she has nothing to do with

"Should I answer this homework question wrong intentionally so I don't seem like a dork?"

Gets overstimulated at a party and tells the host her mom called and wants her home so she has an excuse to leave

Also lied about what time the party would end so she wouldn't be questioned as to why she was home early

Party ends at 12, tell mom it ends at 10 because she knows she won't be able to function past then and her weekend bedtime is 11, starts goodbye procedures at 9:30

All this effort goes out the window once she's tired/burnt out. School is a horror show for her because it's simultaneously a bunch of loud noises and social conventions. The infamous drive-in double date happened after school. It was also very loud and she was already stressed about getting in a fight with Bob.

Literally just wanted a hand squeeze and felt safe taking the mask off with Ponyboy and only Ponyboy. There was nothing but friendship. She was on the brink of a panic attack.

This, on top of yet another fight with Bob, which ended in a breakup, and then finding out he died, and then getting blamed/yelled at lead to the events of the fic I submitted for Soc September: a complete lack of ability to maintain any semblance of the mask.

Cited John Locke when she dumped Bob. "I'm done." "Did you just break up with me? You can't do that!" "John Locke said that if the government isn't protecting the rights and welfare of the governed, the governed have a right to revolt. When you agreed to be my boyfriend, you agreed to love, respect, and remain loyal to me. You agreed to make me feel safe and comfortable. I agreed to do the same. You are scaring me. I heard the "I got my best girl and some others too" line. Therefore, I have the right to leave." "Cherry, what the fuck?"

Anyway...

Marcia was her biggest cheerleader for demasking once Cherry could finally communicate what was happening.

Cherry did a bit of thinking after the events of the story and sort of started suspecting that she was autistic.

Her cousin was diagnosed with autism and had much higher support needs, but very similar traits to Cherry, just, for lack of better term, on higher levels.

"Hold on. Autism affects the brain. Your sex doesn't determine whether or not you have a brain. So that means girls can be autistic too. But I'm not... wait, what if there are different amounts?"

I'm aware that there's no such thing as less/more autistic. I just didn't know how else to word it and this is Cherry's thought process. This is how she connected the dots.

Her routines are so specific. She always knows what she's supposed to be doing based on the time and date. Things that mess up her routine such as dates/football games stress her out, but she does them anyway.

Does barrel racing and cheer for fun, actually not that good at it, has the proprioception of a box of crayons.

When I say she doesn't want to be a flyer, I mean her internal reaction is to ask the coach how big the curve on their IQ test was when they suggest it, but she sucks it up and does it anyway.

Gets caught, back to ground level, starts crying, they never threw her again.