#but how am i supposed to pretend this is a good friendship when its so obvious to see it isn't

[keisgirl]

lowk really bad so no title

tsukishima kei x reader, angst

you already knew how this would end.

you told yourself from the start that loving tsukishima kei was dangerous, like standing at the edge of a cliff, toes curled over the sharp drop.

but you stepped forward anyway, convinced that maybe, just maybe, you could learn how to fly before you hit the ground.

and now, the ground is closer than ever.

because every glance, every quiet laugh, every moment of his undivided attention feels like a rope tying you to him, tighter and tighter.

but ropes fray, don’t they? and sooner or later, the weight of your feelings will be too much for him to hold.

and when that happens, what will be left of you?

“he likes talking to you, you know,” yamaguchi says one day, his voice soft but the words cutting deep.

you freeze mid-step, your heart skipping a beat. “kei said that?”

“yeah,” yamaguchi says, smiling like he’s just delivered the best news of your life. “he said you’re easy to talk to, that you’re different.”

your chest tightens, hope clawing its way out of the dark corner where you’ve kept it locked away.

but yamaguchi’s smile fades, and you know the worst part is coming.

“he also said he’s not sure if he’s looking for anything right now,” he adds, his tone cautious.

the words hit harder than you expected, knocking the breath from your lungs. you manage a weak smile, nodding like it doesn’t matter. “oh. that’s...yeah, that’s fine.”

but it’s not fine.

it’s anything but fine.

you try to convince yourself that nothing’s changed. that yamaguchi’s words don’t mean anything.

but you notice everything now—the way tsukishima’s gaze lingers on you sometimes, but never for too long.

the way he sits a little closer than necessary, but not close enough for it to mean anything.

and the way he says your name, like it’s a melody he can’t get out of his head, but one he’s too afraid to sing out loud.

it’s maddening, this constant push and pull, this fragile line between friendship and something more.

and it leaves you wondering: am i crazy for thinking there’s something here? or am i crazy for holding on to the idea of it?

one day, you overhear him talking to yamaguchi in the hallway.

“she’s been texting me a lot,” tsukishima says, his voice as flat as ever.

“do you like her?” yamaguchi asks, his tone hesitant.

tsukishima pauses, and for a moment, you swear the world holds its breath.

“i don’t know,” he says finally. “i don’t think i’m looking for anything right now.”

you turn away before you can hear more, your chest burning with the weight of unspoken words.

what am i supposed to do with this?

you start pulling away after that.

not all at once—because that would be too obvious, and you can’t bear the thought of him knowing how much you’re hurting.

instead, it’s little by little. fewer texts. shorter conversations. more space.

and if tsukishima notices, he doesn’t say anything.

at least, not at first.

“are you avoiding me?” he asks one day, his voice sharp and cutting straight to the point.

“no,” you lie, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

he narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “then what’s your problem?”

“i don’t have a problem,” you say, your voice wavering.

“you do,” he counters, stepping closer. “just tell me.”

you swallow hard, the words caught in your throat. you want to scream, to tell him everything, to make him understand how much this hurts.

but you can’t. because what good would it do?

“it’s nothing,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“it’s not nothing,” he snaps, his frustration bleeding through. “you’ve been different. what changed?”

“you said you’re not looking for anything,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “so what’s the point?”

his eyes widen, just for a moment, before his expression hardens. “what’s the point of what?”

“of this!” you say, your voice rising. “of me sticking around, pretending like i’m okay with just being friends when i’m not!”

the words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“i never asked you to feel that way,” he says finally, his voice cold.

and just like that, the fragile thread holding you together snaps.

“you’re right,” you say, your voice trembling. “you didn’t. so maybe it’s better if i stop.”

his expression flickers—shock, confusion, something you can’t quite name—but he doesn’t stop you as you turn and walk away.

and maybe that’s what hurts the most.

the days that follow are quiet, too quiet.

you still see him in class, but the space between you feels insurmountable now, like an invisible wall you can’t break through.

you wonder if he misses you, even just a little.

but then you remember the way he said, “i’m not looking for anything,” and you know the answer.

one night, you get a text from him.

kei; we need to talk.

your hands shake as you stare at the screen, a mix of hope and dread twisting in your chest.

but when you meet him, he doesn’t say the words you desperately want to hear.

“i don’t want to lose you as a friend,” he says instead, his voice quieter than usual.

and you realize, with a sinking feeling, that this is his version of letting you down easy.

“yeah,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t even come close to reaching your eyes. “me neither.”

but it’s a lie. because being his friend will never be enough.

when you go home that night, you collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face as the weight of it all crashes over you.

you wonder how long it’ll take for this pain to fade, or if it ever will.

and as you stare at the ceiling, your chest aching with the force of unspoken love, you whisper into the empty room:

“i don’t want to get too attached.”

but it’s too late.

you already have.

[shunin-gumis]

As Master Joe Wishes - Track 03

Seasonal Team Event - L4mps

Thank you Jelly for handling this chapter!

~~~(flashback)

Nagi: *looks around* Who said that?

Toi: It sounded like it came from over there…?

??: Please turn your attention downwards! I am right here~!

Ryui: The fuck?

Yodaka: A teddy bear? Or an autonomous—

Netaro: Eggactly!

Joe: It is I, “Baldovino Joe Senba!” Brunhild, the late madam’s, one and only remaining family!

Joe: As a sign of our friendship, please, call me “Joe”~!

Toi: S-S-SHE’S ADORABLE~~~~♪ Here girl, here girl♪ I want to hug the fluffy Ms. Bear~~~♪

Joe: I suppose I shall allow it?

Nagi: A-Amazing, it moves and speaks just like a noble lady— Toi, I wanna hug her too.

Ryui: Unlike a certain florist, it can speak properly. It even knows how to introduce itself.

Yodaka: …I see, so this is what it’s about.

Daniel: Hm? Did you figure something out?

Yodaka: Yes. Take a good look at the gemstones on her eyes, nose, earrings, and that heart on her chest.

Netaro: Wonderful observation skills, Yoda~! Very perceptive!

Netaro: Her right eye is a top-tier cabochon red diamond cut by a craftsman employed by the royal family, of which there exists only a few dozen in the whole entire world.

Samejima: And what’s more, it has a market price of 2 billion yen!

Joe: Indeed~!

Toi: Ehhhhh~!?

Netaro: And her nose is an alexandrite, the third rarest gem in the world! This precious gemstone was passed around through many of the world’s powerful and influential figures before eventually making its way into Brunhild’s hands~!

Joe: Every single gem costs an arm and a leg~!

Netaro: In other words, Joe is a teddy bear with a net worth of a billion yen, jam packed with the latest AI technology♪

Nagi: …No matter how many of me there are, I still wouldn’t be able to afford it…

Ryui: (He put the bear down with a super pale face…)

Toi: Joe-sama is amazing. But if you’re so valuable, won’t bad people always be after you…?

Samejima: There’s no problem in that regard. Very soon, Joe-san will be sent over to Germany under the supervision of the police. From that point onwards, she’ll become a national treasure and will be much harder to steal.

Samejima: However, while she’s still in JPN, the JPN police will be the ones in charge of her safety and escorting her… When this was first decided, the German police force started treating us as incompetent idiots.

Samejima: For things to proceed smoothly while she’s still under our jurisdiction, they were very nitpicky and obsessed over even the slightest details. All of this was an incredible pain and has started to get on our nerves, but we have no choice but to put aside our personal feelings.

Samejima: However, if we manage to round up all of “Anonymous” in one go, all while guarding Joe-san, we might be able to stand our ground against the German police.

Netaro: That’s right, that’s right! Kick their asses~!

Joe: Send them crying back to their mothers, desuwa~!*

Ryui: …Just putting this out there, but ain’t this a personal grudge?

Samejima: Yeah, you’re right on the mark.

Ryui: The hell you agreeing so casually for?

Nagi: Um, but uh well we’re… “ward mayors”...?

Samejima: Astute observation. We appreciate your cooperation.

Nagi: I guess we’re helping out now…

Daniel: I have a lot I wanna say, but wouldn’t this all be solved if you just shoved it in some bank’s safety box until D-day? Then you wouldn’t need us.

Joe: What on Earth are you saying! Even AI deserves basic rights~! I’ll have you know, our way of life is very similar to that of humans~!

Toi: Locking them up is too much!

Daniel: Sorry. It was just a thought.

Yodaka: More importantly, does the enemy know that the “secret treasure” they’re after is actually a teddy bear? From our conversation earlier, it sounded like they know very few details regarding the actual treasure itself.

Netaro: They probably don’t know?

Yodaka: In that case, wouldn’t it be fine to go along pretending that Joe-san isn’t the treasure they’re seeking?

Samejima: You’re exactly right. However, that’s exactly why we can't just provisionally leave Joe-san. It’d be bad if we were found out because of that.

Samejima: To be honest, I could just be with her at all times. However, this is a lot easier said than done.

Samejima: For a fatigued, middle-aged man like myself to be alert 24/7 while holding such a cute teddy bear would be, on the contrary, quite suspicious.

Netaro: Aesthetically not pleasing. Report for indecent behavior.

Ryui: Yeah, only a dumbass would fall for that. You’d need an angel like Toi to safekeep it…

Samejima: Exactly. In order to blend-in, we’d need a child like Toi-san, or Ryui-san, someone who could “𝓔mbrace it without” looking out of place—

Ryui: Haa!? Wanna try saying that again, you fucker!?

Toi: Ani-sama would definitely look good holding a teddy bear……! I see it…… I totally see it…… Ani-sama is totally the cool type, but he could totally pull off cuteness!

Samejima: Where “𝓔xposure to danger would be OK” and—

Nagi: Danger is okay…?

Netaro: I gave the okay on behalf of everyone. ‘Cause it’s more fun that way!

Samejima: A person we could “𝓔asily count on”... We needed an individual that met the 3E’s. That’s why I had Yowa-kun introduce you all to me.

Ryui: Listen here you fucker, all you've been doing is spouting random fucking bullshit since we got here! Don’t get cocky just ‘cause you’re the fucking police!?

Ryui: (Except for Toi) No one here looks normal carrying a fucking bear around, I don't remember agreeing to dangerous shit like fucking with a god damn criminal organization, and we sure as hell aren’t close enough for you to ask for shitty favors like—

Toi: Samejima-san! I… I’ll do my best!

Ryui: Wha- Toi…!

Toi: Ani-sama, please… Joe-sama and Samejima-san are both in a pinch, we can’t just turn a blind eye to this.

Toi: I don’t want to hand over Brunhild-san's precious Joe-sama over to the bad guys… I want to help!

Toi: The world’s coolest Ani-sama would definitely protect both me and Joe-sama… right?

Ryui: Got it. I’ll give my all to ensure your safety.

Toi: Yay! Ani-sama, I love you!!

Nagi: Can you protect me as well…

Yodaka: My, my… I guess it can’t be helped. If the terms have already been agreed upon, then perhaps, this is what fate has in store for us.

Daniel: What good samaritans. In that case, see ya.

Joe: Thank you all for your cooperation~! After the burly gentleman over there departs, shall we open a bottle of wine and have a toast?

Daniel: …Wine?

Joe: The late madam had a liking for vintage wine. We have many globally rare wines held downstairs in the cellar.

Daniel: I’ll do it. Ensuring her safety, or escorting, or whatever. Regardless of who they are, it’s only right to help out those in need.

Samejima: Great. With this, we can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Once again, I appreciate your cooperation. Thanks.

Joe: I shall be in everyone’s care!

Note:

Joe generally speaks very elegant and formally. However, she suddenly says something very crude for her character and tries to wrap it up with an elegant ending. Unfortunately, it is hard to find an English equivalent so a decision was made to use "desuwa~."

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

what do you think sirius’s relationship with his father was like

(i wrote a whole fucking biography, but there's a tldr at the bottom w some notes! also. i am so sorry. this ended up being orion's relationship with his eldest son instead. its pov orion forgive me please.)

sirius and orion ..... there's not much in canon about them, i think, right? he mentions him a whopping one time, when he said his father was the one who made Number Twelve unplottable and that's it, so i think orion was just. so very absent. and neglectful. especially considering how much walburga is mentioned and how big of a part she played in sirius' life.

that's all for canon, i think. now for the fun hc time !!

i imagine orion to be fairly quiet, more like regulus. i imagine he dealt with walburga's anger and mood swings (i hc her (and sirius) with bipolar ii disorder which was obv untreated her whole life bc a) fifties b) ew muggles im perfectly fine) ever since they met (with orion being younger and more complacent, too) so it wasn't a marriage where they were both equals, and orion resented walburga for it.

enter sirius black.

when sirius was born, walburga was completely focused on him. she had her son, her everything, her precious little child and orion was free. i think he loved sirius for it - for how walburga didn't notice when orion left the room or entered it, for how much walburga loved her son.

the first few years was good, sirius was charming, regulus was obedient, walburga was happy and orion was distant from the woman who'd ruined his life. plus, he liked his kids!

sure, sirius was too headstrong and aggressive and had mood swings and sure that reminded him a little bit of walburga and so he usually treasured his precious regulus, and yeah, sirius had cried more than once that dad doesnt love me! but it was all just fine, because he loved his son! he did, really! at least one of them, anyway.

by the time sirius was ten, orion was hoping his hogwarts letter would come early.

it was sirius' first big rebellion, and walburga had (after punishing sirius as she saw fit - orion didn't bother asking, the boy was more comfortable with his mother anyway) locked herself in her room for more than a week, but that was fine, he was used to it. no, the problem was that sirius also stayed in his room for a week, and orion was connecting dots.

from then to dropping sirius off at the train, orion withdrew himself. he noticed. he observed. he busied himself. sirius talked to him, and he didn't ignore him completely, he was still a good father (right?) so he played chess and taught potions and told him who to and not to talk to like he was supposed to.

(he hated the noise the mother and son caused. he hated them, too.)

he pretended to sympathize when walburga said she missed him already when they saw the bus go off.

when sirius came back for christmas, he steered clear for the first two days. walburga handled the punishments: sorting, his friendships, his misdemeanors. orion nodded along.

i am a good father. it's his fault for not being a good son.

regulus was so good, and for all the time the boys spent together, regulus never rubbed off on him.

oh god. what if sirius infects him, too? the only normal one there - what if sirius takes regulus in his madness?

so he separates regulus, too.

by then, he doesn't know what's going on with sirius. regulus told him, time to time, but orion's dislike of his son was becoming clear, so regulus steered clear of the sirius' name. sirius learnt to be away from his father's study. walburga yelled at him more for his negligence but he took it and continued his one sided resentment to his son. (was it one sided anymore? orion didn't know.)

summer vacation is spent in his study and in his bedroom. the two places sirius never was. he didn't know where sirius was, but he heard the occasional screaming and then he had the pleasure of not seeing sirius for a few days.

when, the next year, regulus has to go with sirius, he resents walburga for not saying she missed him already. but she had missed sirius. cursed mother, cursed child.

in third year, walburga signs sirius' hogsmeade permission slip. whatever. he didn't even know it had been signed till the following year, when regulus came to him and they had a few moments of small talk.

regulus mentioned sirius idolized andromeda. he couldn't imagine why, and he couldn't imagine why regulus told him.

by the summer before fourth year, sirius and orion didn't talk. orion scolded him for one thing or another ('posture!' , 'you're late' , 'you're friends with a pettrigrew?' , 'your hair is unkept'), he gave scoffed when sirius made a pronunciation error with his words (regulus wouldn't've. stupid boy, sirius didn't deserve the title of heir.), he punished sirius and then he went back to his study (*sanctuary).

walburga tells him sirius has been sneaking out to muggle london, he has indecent pictures spelled to his walls, he's changed, orion, he's different now. orion doesn't tell her that sirius had always been different, and never in a good way. (he doesn't tell her that she is the same.)

sirius didn't come back for christmas that year. he doesn't notice till walburga screamed at him. he was more focused on how walburga clung to his regulus closer that year.

by the summer before sirius' fifth year, sirius' fights were no longer contained for his mother. he yelled at anyone who would give him time of day.

bellatrix, portraits, kreacher, walurga of course, regulus even.

not his father.

if he saw his father, he would simply walk away.

sirius never walked away from anyone, but orion was grateful nonetheless. he'd hexed sirius a few times, naturally, but he didn't want it to become something regular.

(he was grateful for the days sirius spent holed up into his room.)

by the end of summer, sirius and him had barely exchanged a word that wasn't orion chastising him and sirius replying with a curt yes father.

(it felt like an insult. father. no, orion wasn't a father to that vile thing. sirius was his mother's son. orion had nothing to do with him. and he knew sirius didn't feel differently - he heard sirius refer to him by name when he conversed with regulus.)

when that year ended, and summer began, sirius didn't grant his father the gift of silence. he yelled at him too. every word orion spoke, sirius gave three in return, every hex orion performed sirius laughed at ('is that it? i've been done worse by kids my year.'). he hates him, now. he doesn't hate walburga as much, walburga stayed in her room more, she came out to scream for a few hours and went back.

he blocks that whole summer out. he hates yelling. he hates being yelled at. sirius was walburga, but worse. infinitely worse. he's so relieved when he wakes up to find sirius gone that he can barely hear walburga's shrieks, or bother trying to undo the careful expression regulus wears.

sirius visits him through walburga regardless. (how funny, at first it had been the other way around). sirius had never been one for letting go of things. he haunts orion's dreams and when he hears certain phrases he thinks of his fallen star.

tldr : orion is reminded of walburga (abuser?) when he looks at sirius and distances himself till he finds himself no longer seeing himself as a father for sirius

stuff i didn't mention : walburga uses regulus as sirius' replacement when he runs away and orion hates her for it even though he does the same , he does 100% despise sirius' muggle/gryfindor/blood traitors esque etc stand points, i just feel like that's a given though soo i didnt include it (sorry!!). he just lets walburga handle it, for the most part.

tysm for the ask @albi-bumblebee <3

[lya-dustin]

Shock and Delight

chapter 18

Aromantic!Aemond x Aromantic!Aemma Velaryon(oc)

For as long as she can remember, Aemma has assumed that if someone loves her in the romantic sense, she may respond to that love the same way…hopefully.

Much like fucking it was one of those things that she never quite felt the same way as others did ---she still does not see why everyone, especially the Faith and its more devout followers, are so obsessed with the activity.

Baela loved Jace like all sweethearts do, not like Aegon and Helaena who were great friends and siblings even if they can never make themselves love each other as spouses do. They desired other people the way Aemma didn’t but Helaena and Aegon barely desire each other sexually either anyways.

Aemma hoped to have someone like that if she cannot solve that issue regarding those two things.

Perhaps it would have been good to marry Aemond, he didn’t experience love the way others do either.

But then again, the princess did eventually discover she can feel lust and desire for other people --- unfortunately it was for Aemond who the princess is not supposed to want to fuck--- so perhaps she is worrying for naught.

She couldn’t wait to tell him about how well it went with Qyle and show him the Morning’s latest print about them. It was quite fun to be the only two people who could fool the gossipmonger, Aemma will miss it when it’s over. Besides, Teora had finished the book he loaned Aemma, and the princess would like to return it without her Septa at spitting distance.

Aemond is not as he had been this morning. He is standing rigidly, looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back like when he is anxious about something. He has always done that as a boy, ramrod straight, pretending he isn’t bothered by something and hiding it under a veneer of arrogance and indifference.

“You won’t get a better match than the Prince of Dorne, our arrangement is over.” He keeps his back to her, refusing to even look at her as he ends their friendship then and there.

“We agreed we would still be friends after.” Aemma hopes he doesn’t mean that. It was uncharacteristic of him to do such a thing, and in such a cowardly way.

“Your mother’s past would have people accusing you of doing the same.” The prince gives his reasoning, as if they already do not slander her because Alicent’s blasted court knows they will not be punished for it. “For what is worth, I am sorry it came to this.”

“Then look me in the eye and say it, you coward!” for all of her desire for peace, Aemma has been known to let her temper get the best of her.

She is not supposed to be emotional; she is not to act like a human being because men do not need to prove they are capable and mature enough to handle being a ruling lady let alone a queen.

But the princess is just as human as a street urchin in Flea Bottom, so behind closed doors she is allowed to react and behave as a human would. Besides, Aemond is still her family and if she cannot be herself with him then he is no kin of hers.

Aemond turns to face her once she makes it clear he will have to remove her from his quarters by force if he does not tell her to her face that he is no longer her friend.

“We cannot remain as we were, you will marry Qyle Martell, and I will not make it harder for you to win over his people.” He does not lie about that, but there is something else to it. There had been no rumors about them being improper, not even from his mother’s faction, there would be no reason for him to do something this drastic.

“Liar.” She knows him, knows him better than the lickspittles fawning over him. There are confidants, their friendship made deeper than any they had with anyone else thanks to this charade.

The prince rolled his eye at her and reiterated his words. “We cannot remain as we were. It isn’t proper. You of all people know why that is so.”

He knows how her mother’s reputation has fucked them all over, he is the living example as to why any rumor ---whether true or no--- surrounding the legitimacy of the royal heirs cannot be allowed to spread.

Alicent had allowed her court to gossip about her brothers’ bastardry. Jace had not been spared thanks to his off coloring and no matter how much fear Great-Grandmother could instill in the Queen it could not be stopped.

Aemond ended up paying for that. Luke had not meant to take his eye anymore than any of them had set out to fight each other that night. Had their mothers tried harder to mend their fences and done more to deny the court its sport in pitting them against each other, none of this would’ve happened.

But it is too late for that and now Aemma will be branded a whore for any little misstep she takes by a greedy group of fuckers who only think of what they can get from having the ruling house tear each other apart for an ugly chair and a worthless man’s love.

“That is not the whole truth about it.” The princess refuses to accept that as the reason he is ending their friendship and everything they could have been. She crossed her arms wishing to appear braver than she is. “I will not leave this room unless you are truly honest with me and tell me why we are no longer friends.”

“I understand.” And yet her heart breaks into pieces as she spoke the words, the tears that had welled up in her anger had begun to stream down her cheeks and even in this poor lighting she can see the glassiness of his own eye. “I suppose this is the end for us.”

“I---” he falters, his hands behind his back fall and come to grip her shoulders as if he were doing this to protect her from some great evil. “I swore to Aegon I would not rise against Rhaenyra unless he asked me to. I cannot let the Lord Hand use either of us to usurp your mother."

Oh.

Oh!

It had to be dire if Aemond was doing this to them. He knew the man better than she did, if Ser Otto had considered using her to usurp her mother then Aemond had no choice but to cut off ties with her to keep him away from them.

A necessary evil.

“I am sorry, I never wanted it to end this way.”

Had they both been capable of romantic love it would have been a great declaration of it even without the bloody three words.

But they are not and yet it hurts all the same.

“Daeron said his brother was very upset last night too. Apparently, you are not the only one nursing a broken heart.” Rhaena spoke quietly as Aemma throws away almost everything Aemond gave her during their false courtship. She had come to her room seeing the state she returned to it last night and brought Aemma’s favorite breakfast foods to comfort her in her heartbreak.

“It’s true then, your courtship being over, I mean.” And because where Rhaena goes Baela is not far behind, the elder dragon twin joins them as they eat the break fast in bed still in their nightclothes.

After all her courtship just ended and it’s proper for her to be devastated over it.

“Yes, Aemond and I have broken our courtship because I won’t ever get a better offer than Prince Qyle.” Aemma had been too heartbroken to do much more than cry in her room that evening and yet morning comes again giving her no choice in the matter.

As nice and sweet Qyle is, she didn’t want to accept his hand this way.

Maybe she will grow to love him, to love the man who secures her mother’s position as future queen and their heads on their shoulders.

All because Otto Hightower cannot accept his career is over. Viserys should’ve killed him when he had the chance.

“That’s not true, you had Aemond and I hadn’t seen you like a boy like you liked him.” Her cousin points out still believing true love can conquer all.

“Yes, but Dorne means mother’s enemies would think twice before rising against her and could allow us to annex the realm with minimal bloodshed.” They are royalty, if nobility barely had any freedom to marry for love why would a Targaryen be the exception?

“Oh, so its duty over love then.” Baela interjects coming to sit on the bed with them. “Shame, just when I was finally coming around to the idea of him being our brother. Lady Morning will have a blast writing this, she’s hardly been wrong.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything.” Rhaena grumbled in response. “Are you sure there is no chance for the two of you reconcile?”

“I don’t think so.” Aemma considers telling them the truth, it would feel nice to let someone else know, but she decides against it. “The only way we could marry is if Ser Otto would stop trying to usurp mother and Prince Qyle was deemed unsuitable by the Small Council.”

This seems to stop the questions from Rhaena ---Baela did not care about the specifics--- and allows Aemma the quietness to accept her fate.

Even if love and desire never come, they will have peace and that is what matters.

a/n:

so I've come to the realization that I actually want to keep both Aemma and Aemond aromantic instead of demiromantics (and demisexual in Aemma’s case) falling in love when i can have two besties who do not feel romantic attraction still have a loving and fulfilling relationship because love is a spectrum and I loved Panfilo and Neifile's dynamic so much in the Decameron it gave me this epiphany.

i know people barely read my shit here, just letting y'all know that while I will use romance tropes and etc, this won't be a regular love story (they still love each other just not that way)

[blazethecheeto]

Oh boy, now some things I disliked. Some strongly. Sab s2 was a speed run, yes, and sometimes the plot suffered for it. Mostly, I'm mad about the things that were taken away. Nina was done so dirty. She had the Nina personality and was iconic as usual, but I wish they had used more of her instead of her just...being there and talking about Matthias. She has an amazing personality and a lot of plot armor. Yet, they don't utilize that!

We were robbed of ninej as well. I was so excited for Ninej, and we got like two conversations. I want them to have a strong budding friendship, what happened to her flinching when Nina hugs her? Which could have helped with the lack of Inej trauma addressed this season as well. They were so fucking cute together I needed more. Don't get me started on poor Matthias getting like 10 minutes of screen time. I feel bad for him, but that was a mild complaint because what else is he supposed to do this season y'know?

I was mad at the speed run for Nikolina. They literally put all their iconic lines and scenes that were built up and formed of their relationship developing, and shoved them a into one conversation. They made Alina like him right from the start, and I just feel like in general they needed to flesh out Nikolai like a LOT. He was perfect, emanated Nikolai energy, he just needed more chances to prove that!

The erasure of Jesper's crush on Kaz and the Wesper speed run. Oh boy. Okay buckle up. I thought they didn't build up Wesper well enough, and they made them together for the fan service. I wish they had just made them friends or allies this season. Maybe Wylan was crushing on him a little, but I wanted that banter that they had in Soc. Jesper teasing him was great! This season I wished they had spent a lot more time on Jesper's crush on Kaz. Kit Young and Freddy Carter like to pretend it doesn't exist but it does. And I, (a biased Kazper shipper), really would have loved to see it in its early stages. For Inej and Jesper to bond over it and the utter angst in their scenes because Jes knows he won't like him like he likes her. They seriously cut all of that out, and made Jes say they were brothers which is not true. Kaz sees him as a brother, and it just takes out the whole impact of the Jordie line in CK.

Tolya and Inej better not-*sigh* not getting into that.. David I refuse to believe he is dead. He is a part of the Triumvirate, and he was supposed to get married to Genya before DYING. She cannot catch a freaking break.

I also didn't like how the Spinning Wheel was lame. Like, it was supposed to be in the sky. Buried in the mountains. Instead it's like a small mansion in the ground. The sea whip fetter was kind of lame too. Genya's scars could have been better, and so should the Darkling's Sharpie-drawn scars. One thing I just wish could happen is to show Jesper and Nina being bisexual. Like, at this point, people would think Jes is gay and Nina is straight. Is it too much to ask for them both to show their interest in women?

We didn't get lines like "I am not ruined, I am ruination. " and the iconic "i am become a blade. " I have hopes for s3 though. Flaws and all, I love SAB and I have faith in them to give us a good s3 and Six of Crows.

[causesciencethatswhy]

https://www.tumblr.com/causesciencethatswhy/742925680934862848/nothing-more-annoying-than-supposed-neutral-fans

this might be a bit late but it’s just so perplexing and interesting to me how tkers a) have an absurd level of influence on the entire fandom and b) are legitimately much more insane than most delusional shippers even larries

as someone who was a tween when shipping really started to become a thing on the internet its fascinating (and disturbing) to see how it has gone from a casual and harmless “wow they look good together and have chemistry i want to see more of that” to “here is an entire dissertation’s worth of bogus theory about a same-sex pairing despite me being ragingly homophobic and probably mysoginistic.”

how it went from an admiration of chemistry and attraction to actual clinical delusion in a matter of years needs to be studied.

anyhow, i was thinking about all of the discourse surrounding jimin, jk, and the buddy system and am shocked by a couple of things. first, the complete undermining of their friendship despite them being ridiculously close for years. whether you like their dynamic or not it’s literally impossible to deny that jk and jimin have been thick as thieves for (at least) the past 5 or 6 years. I became an army in 2019 so it has always been obvious to me that they are extremely close. sure, you can make the argument that they didn’t “hang out” as much during 2023 but there’s still a considerable amount of interactions between them, much more than most of the other members who no army second guesses how close they are (the biggest example being jimin and taehyung who we literally only saw interact towards the end of the year).

second is how people literally pretend taennie never happened. hell, i think more people believe the blurry jk apartment video than they believe th and jn we’re in a real relationship for almost 2 years. there’s actual pictures of him on her BED with her kitty (a literal one) and you’ll still see majority of armys act like it never happened. yes, their privacy was horribly invaded but everyone knows damn well that is not the reason why most armys choose to ignore that relationship and then go and gush about him and IU.

though these two things might seem unrelated, i think both of these narratives that have always been pushed by tkers and have successfully crossed over to supposedly non-shipper armys and demonstrate just how influential tker theory is on the fandom.

this is exactly why i won’t really sweat over whatever a tkker says. if taehyung was in a long-term relationship for years that is confirmed by DOZENS of personal pictures through different dates, months, and locations but they still want to deny it… there’s simply nothing to reason with there. its just a waste of time and space. there’s a chance jikook have not been or are not more than close friends but there’s no chance th was with anyone other than jennie for the past 2 years in what is looked like the most serious relationship he’s ever had.

i feel bad for him too even if i feel he sometimes stokes the flames of shippers. imagine breaking up w your most serious partner ever, grieving that relationship AND your normal life since you’ll soon be part of the military for 2 years and all the while your “fans” are picking apart and making up insane theories about you and your friend.

I agree with most of what you say anon.

Of course we can't know for sure what the nature of jkks relationship last year was but I'm way more inclined to believe that their bond is still going as strong as it was before not just because of the buddy system news but purely because the ease and doting nature of the interactions we saw last year has remained the same.

And you're right, nothing will ever convince tkkrs to really just see the truth for what it is. There's always an alternative explanation, an alternative enemy to set your eyes on, an alternative ploy by the company to break the tkkr spirit. It's quite ridiculous. I think the worst thing with the taennie situation was that the whole 'It's an edit!! It's an impersonator!! It's a PR move by Jen/nie!!" Was that it wasn't just tkkrs buying into this. It was a majority of armys. The general fandom now looks back on taennie as 'a conspiracy to defame tae (except armys and blinks were the only ones who thought that these two adult humans possibly dating would be defamatory to either of them).

I legit had a very close irl army friend, whose not a shipper but still a pretty dedicated fan get into an argument with me because I told her that ppls reaction to tae dating was ridiculous. She word to word reiterated all the bs tkkr theories I had seen floating around and was unwilling to consider the possibility of them being made up conspiracies. I was genuinely surprised because she is generally very chill about these discourses but I guess the need to believe he wasn't dating a BP member took precedent over what the reality really was ??

Either way, it'll be interesting to see how they behave post 2025. I doubt they're going to calm down anytime soon with the jikook travel show on it's way. It's going to feed their theories as much as it's going to entertain the rest of us I'm afraid.

[tobiasdrake]

We return! At long last, the present!

You and me both. At least now I understand the context for why we miss him so badly. Even if it was a very long hike to get to this point.

I hope he's doing well for himself out there. And that he isn't evil.

THE BUSHES

ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW

THE FUCKING BUSHES

HOW LONG. HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN. IN THOSE BUSHES.

Holy fuck the anticlimax is killing me. All this time. All this time building tension surrounding Garl and he was hiding in the bushes giggling and plotting when to reveal himself.

I want to punch him in the face, then hoist him over my shoulders and hurl him off that cliff.

I want to kiss him on the mouth.

ARE YOU SHITTING ME.

I genuinely don't know if I'm hysterical with fury or glee but it's something right now. THE BUSHES.

Ten years later Garl picks up our friendship right where we left off, like none of that time even passed. I'm sobbing.

T_T You're going to join my party and I'm never going to let you go again. I will literally trade Zale for you if I have to. How hard can his skills be to replace? It's sun magic.

My dude left after us but somehow managed to get so far ahead of us that he was able to hide in these bushes and lurk. That's skill. I don't even know when he could have--

Oh, wait. I spent like half a day fishing to get coin together to buy equipment from a merchant.

Yeah. Okay. That was probably it. I am not. Very good. At doing things urgently. I should probably take this as a learning experience and work on improving myself. But I will not.

YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTHS YES HE CAN

If we send Garl away I'm going to be so fucking mad oh my god

Oh, okay, we just had to put up some token resistance so we could pretend like we did our jobs correctly. When Moraine complains we can be like, "Sorry, we did everything we could but it just wasn't meant to be. The forces of destiny wanted too badly for Garl to be with us."

Archivist said that we did something wrong and everyone died the first time around but this time we were going to do something right. I don't know if he was talking about bringing Garl along. Maybe the first time around, we really did make Garl go home and that was a terrible mistake.

But I hope it is. If Garl winds up being the Lynchpin of Destiny that means we win and save the universe or whatever, I will be a very happy person.

Probably mist, if we're being honest.

Yeah, that looks like mist. Got a whole-ass mistfall here. Who wants to bet that the Elder Mist is at the source of mistfall? If I was an Elder Mist, that's where I'd be.

...shit, maybe the mistfall is the Elder Mist.

Okay, this looks even more mystery than that other mystery door. What the hell is this even supposed to be? And why doesn't it respond to our magic when it clearly looks like it should respond to our magic.

You cut that out before I pee in your water source. I have been climbing cliffsides for hours with the sound of running water keeping me company, do not test me.

We're doing something different than other Solstice Warriors do because we're cooler than them.

You know, I was wondering what identified a mist as elder. He has to be controlling that. There's no way that giant mist moustache is anything but a personal choice.

It's working for him. I dig it. You do you, Elder Mist.

I'm going to remember that. I've already been lied to by one ancient immortal. If, later in the quest, I have to do a special something to unlock the ability to illuminate a dark dungeon, I'm going to put you on my shit list too.

Garl's already shattering cultural barriers and proving his awesomeness. There is no separating him from us now. Try it and you'll get the sternest of glares in your life. In stereo.

Okay, so we have another tutorial dungeon for the new mechanic, then? That makes sense. Here, we finally learn how to "use magic without using magic".

You know, after all the talking-up that's been done to this point about "using magic without using magic" including its vague and mysterious name, I'm kinda disappointed that it just amounts to a minor boost to attack power in battle.

Like, it's a cool mechanic, but I don't feel like it's living up to the hype. I'm sure it will be really important when it allows us to damage things that are arbitrarily immune to anything but this one mechanic, but I'm not really feeling the excitement.

[markets]

hi markets how is life going for u bc basically the guy who was my best friend for years well we stopped talkign last spring completely bc long story short he was Very in love with me and i could not get myself to feel the same even though i TRIED girl i genuinely tried sohard but that just ended up with him feelinbg led on and hurt and asked to never speak to me again hahalol well yeah he just texted me out of the blue bc he got a leaked frank ocean song and sent it me. because he knows i love frank ocean and knew i wouldg love it and whAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT DOESNT HE REALIZE THAT NOW THIS SONG WILL BE FOREVER ATTACHED TO THE FEELING OF GUILT AND HEARTBREAK AND ILL NEVER BE NORMAL ABOUT A SONG THAT WILL PROBABLY NEVER BE RELEASED AND WILL ONLY EVER EXIST AS AN ATTACHMENT IN OUR MESSAGES????? anyway yeah. the song wasgood

ANON. anon listen to me because i literally had this exaxt same situation with my (now ex) best friend SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL almost two years ago. i also tried and i also accidentally led on and hurt them and they didnt ask me to never speak to them again and actually jsut ignored me all summer instead and likely got all our shared friends (aka most of my friends lol) to do the same so i just didnt bother trying to reconnect once school started again. im also currently on the other end of this kind of as the best friend who took that old best friends place (though we probably wouldve ended up becoming best friends even without that whole mess i hope) broke up with me after a few very good months of dating and a few very bad ones and i asked him not to speak to me for a while but then decided to reconnect with (which judging by the fact that im active on tumblr could be going better).

so yeah now that ive given you my credentials heres what you do you thank him if you havent already and tell him you hope hes doing well and then you put your phone down and go on a walk far far away from it and think about the whole thing. that isnt the best advice because there realyl is no good advice for this situation its one of those things that tears you apart and then points at you and says haha oh YOURE torn apart you say wow what a selfish asshole haha!! but honestly its so clear to me just from this one ask that you care about him so much and im sure he can see that too. if hes texting you he can at least see it a little, and if you would like to do so im sure your friendship is salvagable. the person who put me as the heartbreak emoji in their "people i had feelings for this year" tik tok last december invited me to their house last month and we laughed and joked even though last time i had been there i had been pretending to feel something i could only wish i truly felt. and i dont think theirs an effort more admirable and beautiful than trying to save something like that, than looking the world straight in the eyes and saying "you want me to leave this for dead but i wont because i CARE and that means something." i mean if he wants too of course. which if he sent the text he might thats kind of how i wnet about it when i tried to reconnect too. maybe take this with a grain of salt because im in a highly emotional time in my life but all im going to say is im sorry anon. i know how awful it is to lose a best friend. and im hoping everything goes well for both of you

[devircy]

KidLaw Songs

Okay, because I am probably insane here are my songs that I listen to when I go to write, edit, revise, aka get into the head space for kidlaw (TDC) with little to no explanation as to why its mostly 2010 pop... 23 songs :)

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga I don’t think this needs an explanation

Casual Sex - My Darkest Days “Just your typical hard core casual sex, wild under the covers, crazy for each other.”

Let’s Be Friends - Emily Osment “I see what I want and I wanna play, everyone knows I’m getting my way.”

Monster - Lady gaga “He ate my heart...uh-oh there was monster in my bed, we french-kissed on a subway train, he tore my clothes right off”

Like a Villain - Bad Omens “I’ll see your face in the fire and burn it out, I don’t want to know your secrets cause I’ll tell.”

Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift  “ Lord save my drug is my baby I’ll be using for the rest of my life. Don’t blame me, love made me crazy.”

Meddle About - Chase Atlantic “You got me down on my knees it’s getting harder to breath out. We only met each other just the other day.”

Animals - Maroon 5 - “You can start over, you can run free ...you can pretend it’s mean to be but you can’t stay away from me.”

Just Pretend - Bad Omens “I can stay away if you want me to, I can wait for years if I gotta, Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you.”

i’m yours - Isabel LaRosa “We’re gettin’ closer, inches away, lose composure, favorite mistake, friendship’s over, won’t be the same”

Love You Better - The Haunt - “I’m fine, but the way you lie and how you think that I can’t read be tween the lines.”

Moth to the a Flame - The Weekend -  “Cause he seems like he’s good for you and he makes you feel like you should”

Hot N Cold - Katy Perry “Someone, Call the doctor got a case of a love bipolar”

Scream - Usher “If you want a turn right, hope you’re ready to go all night.”

Sparks Fly - Taylor Swift “Just keep on keeping your eyes on me, its just wrong enough tot make it feel right.”

Taste of You - Rezz, Dove Cameron “What am I supposed to do but sink my teeth in you? I starve without you on my lips, I die without the taste of it.”

Night Crawling - Miley Cyrus “Sometimes I need your lovin’ Somtimes I stab you in the back”

Good Together - Shy Martin “Every night its one of getting aggressive the other one acting possessive...You and me we never say were sorry hands around my body fuck until were good.”

Death of Me - PVRIS “You could chain me up or set me free you could suffocate or let me breath baby you could be the death of me.”

Nicotine - P!ATD "I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you, so I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do.”

Gimme What I Want - Miley Cyrus “Pleasure leads to pain to me there both the same...Bite marks like and animal you might be insane but maybe we’re the same”

DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND - Bad Omens “I miss the way you say my name...Your make up running down your face the way you fuck the way you taste.”

Shameless - Camila Cabello “I want you to give in, there is tension in between us I just want to give in and I don’t care if I’m forgiven.”

If you guys have songs you like, enjoy, associate with them that I don’t have on this list PLEASE send it to me in the ask box I am always looking for more!!!

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

can I ask your honest advices on something personal? so I get next to no communication from a now former friend, I had some hunch to ask a reader if said friend dislikes me and the answer came back as yes so I recently googled if ignoring someone or not reaching out to them via texts can count as them being jealous or having some dislike? yet they still send the bday present and xmas card or present as do I but I feel like its a cheap way when I know she practically lives online but I barely here from her so I dont really know what to do? we havent met in years and she makes next to no effort to seem interested in what im doing even if I try to take interest in herself as a friend it feels very one sided even when we used to meet up it would always be about her and never any follow up questions.

I know she has a disablity of some kind however the effort she puts into her other friends is vastly different. if she messages me its once in a blue moon and only to ask if I want to do a quiz, now I stopped checking my online profiles so much because like it seemed she was much more into what she got from others i dont want to feel desperate by constantly trying to fix whatever this "friendship" was supposed to be. do i ask her or do i wonder about it? if she dont tell me how am i gonna know what to do about it because many ppl been like her even when I was in school I was always dealing with ppl who pretended to care when they didnt. I didnt know any better then so it feels like ppl r just only using me if they need me for that certain point otherwise they fuck off and find "better friends" elsewhere like am i that replaceable or weird?

is this petty of me to want to ignore her back or is it mostly her behaviours towards me? the thing is I have dealt with many ppl like her and it doesnt put her in a good light it gives trying to be nice to my face but for all I know she could be chatting shit with someone about me? and shes quite popular online. hence why it feels like im always bottom of her priorities since always having to instigate a conversation felt like conversing with a brick aka it was going nowhere. I know her disability cant prevent her from being a decent person but do I just leave her? yet this whole present giving thing really isnt it for me. its giving oh I will just send her something to make it seem like she cares when she dont message or try to get in touch nor does she want to meet up. all her messages in recent years have been so short almost too blunt

does this sound like jealousy or regular dislike? sorry for rambling again but im so effing tired of these types of ppl who act like they care to have a friendship but then half ass their way out of it, it doesnt help that we moved since long ago so we cant be closer physically as friends. But I feel like my existance bothers her for some unknown reasons. as I told the tarot reader im nothing special heck im not the popular one she is if anything I would guess she was quite popular that she simply didnt need me? You would think if we was real friends she would make a bit more effort cause sometimes theres things I wanna tell her but am like wait she dont care so im not gonna bother cause she want certain replies and comments yaknow?

thanks so so much in advance if you read all of this!!! I love your blog and readings so felt comfortable to ask you for your thoughts hope you dont mind the rant there!

Honestly that’s an awful situation to be in. In my opinion, it’s not necessarily jealousy. She just doesn’t like you, point blank period.

Now, I can admit I’m the type who’s on my phone a lot but can sometimes miss people’s messages, and I’m not good with reaching out first. But that’s not a good behavior. And at least if she liked you she’d be interested when you’re talking, which is something I do. And she’d be there for you. And at least she could come around to responding eventually instead of flat out ignoring you and only contacting you when she needs you.

It seems like to me she’s keeping you around so she can have more people clinging to her and chasing her to fuel her ego. It’s more an ego thing than a genuine like. She does not like you. I’d bet she doesn’t even necessarily tolerate you. But she likes your attention.

She likes the experience of being worshipped and chased. Knowing she doesn’t have to try and you will just chase and follow her to the ends of the earth.

[nerfedbytheuniverse]

Posting here because some school friends or mutual friends thereof follow my main blog.

I desperately want to remember who I was before I was this scared of everything and everyone.

I don’t know how long ago that would even be. When did I get so closed-off and withdrawn? Was it my amino buddies, the first time around? Maybe the second?

We’re not even going to talk about HER (my abuser) because I know *she* fucked me up, but I can’t pretend that was the whole reason. I recall being able to make friends between 2013 and 2018, even if I was weird and anxious. I was still a people-pleaser and socially anxious to a degree, but there are currently people in my life that I trust enough to walk around school with alone or leave my backpack and other belongings with. It scares me a little, but I can do it.

So what’s the problem? Why am I still struggling so hard?

I’m going to come right out and say that I lowkey have a school bestie, because even though all of those school friends are besties, this particular one is just Special. As I say when I want the lowest commitment answer ever, “the vibes are good”.

In reality, I know it has a little to do with the fact that, however informal and small, he did technically have an authority position in the setting we met in. And I know that he’s kind, compassionate, helpful, and wise.

But he’s still a twenty-something year old guy who tells video game npcs to “kys” and makes sex jokes sometimes in ways that guys just kinda do. Not to gender that experience but it’s just. Idk familiar maybe??

To get to the point, I trusted him enough to tell my mom in January, after having emailed him in april and met him irl in september (so not knowing him for long by my standards] “so on Friday between [penultimate thing] and [last thing I had on campus] I’ll be hanging out with [friend]” and that was it. That was all the protection I thought I needed. And you know what happened? We walked around and talked about random shit for 2 hours!

Nothing bad happened. And that’s a big sign of trust for me, to just walk around with someone I don’t know that well. So I trust him enough for that. I trust him in general. But I do not trust him to tell me if I’m being a problem, and I don’t trust him enough to believe him when he says something I do is fine.

I don’t trust it. Not because of him, but because so many people have claimed the same and didn’t follow through until they were ready to be hurtful or explosive. On a rational level, I believe him, but there’s still so much anxiety and worry

He’s not the only one, but we’ve had several small online hangouts this week, so he’s the one freshest in my mind. I’m still doubting the strength, quality, and even the nature of our friendship, because “what’s the catch, there has to be one”.

Or take another school friend. She’s the president of a school org and I’m the vice president under her. I see her once a week usually and sometimes I text her. I want to talk to her more but I don’t know what to talk about. So I ramble for the entire hangout and she chimes in and the conversation goes where it goes and I love it but it leaves me with more questions than answers.

I remember when I used to actually ask the questions instead of just thinking them.

I have yet another who is an out of state student, and much like the School Bestie in scenario A, that means we don’t see each other irl right now. I’ve gotten slow to respond lately because I noticed I reply with the same few phrases all the time. Because I’m still masking and hiding who I am, wrapping myself in this concept of social acceptability which is not even good, it literally never worked for me. So I dilute my opinions and ideas more often than not.

There are even more stories, but I’m paranoid of any of them finding this because they’d so figure out its me.

Point being that I had all these ideas of how I’m supposed to interact to be safe and not get hurt. Mainly because with one supposed “friend”, it wasn’t just emotional hurt. And I dialed back the parts I thought were weird. Hid the parts that were overly honest or blunt, the parts that were mushy and sappy, the part that joked and laughed and smiled all the time. And now I can’t get it back. It lives in my head 24/7 but then my anxiety kicks in and filters it in the silliest of ways.

so I can’t just say things like “thanks for talking with me, I really appreciate your company and I think you’re really cool”, at least not all at once. It comes in short bursts of courage.

There’s so much anxiety because it’s like

What if it’s weird

What if I’m too much

What if they take it the wrong way and think I’m flirting with/crushing on them

What if they assume I’m sucking up

What if they’re not trustworthy and I just basically showed that I’m already attached, and therefore exploitable

What if I make things awkward

What if they think I’m compliment fishing

When does this become oversharing

And probably other things I’m forgetting. The point is that I wonder a lot lately about who I was before I was scared. I want to get back to being that loving, mushy, overly happy person who just loved everyone so much.

I mean, when I was like 9 I had a friend and I made up a little song about how cool she was and she was fine with it but her mom wasn’t for some reason.

But I need that energy back because here’s the thing: I’ve already learned that these friends like honest answers, or at least to be asked, “honest answer or pretty answer?”

And that has helped me to sugarcoat and tiptoe a little less.

But I just can’t get the hang of throwing out the filter. So instead of pointing out a friend’s strengths or good qualities or something like that in a situation where it’s relevant, I just go “hehe, nice” or something like that.

I’m always editing or silencing myself and I know it’s the fear that things won’t work out and I’ll get hurt again.

My intuition tells me it’s fine and I have time with these ones before anything goes seriously wrong, but even with that, even trusting the signs I see, I can’t seem to fix it. I can’t seem to be myself.

Sometimes, I think I don’t know who myself is.

[paaaartieeeeees]

Thank you for the continued torture I am buzzing from it. Have some of my thoughts:

"I know you don't owe me anything... not your time, not your friendship, not your love... you owe me nothing, but, please let me give. I want to give, you deserve everything that I never gave before, and I want to give it to you now."

You could tell Eddie went to therapy. These were beautifully crafted words for you, but you didn't want to let them in. Didn't want to let them touch you. Didn't want to let them come even slightly close…

…There he was.

Therapy and sobriety could do a lot, but it couldn't erase the man that Eddie had become over the past few years.

"Okay, well... enjoy that. I'm gonna go, good luck with... I don't know, life, in general–"

And as you got up, Eddie suddenly shot a hand out towards you and grabbed you by the wrist. For a small moment, you saw 17-year-old Eddie stare at you pleadingly. He almost looked... scared.

"I can't, Eddie..."

You thought of what else to say. Something good, to make him feel better. Something sweet, to make him smile, maybe. But then all you managed to say was,

"I'm sorry."

And with that, you gathered your things, turned your back and walked out. The second you were out of Eddie's sight, you broke, face scrunching up as you let the tears flow freely.

Okay but this whole scene?? OOOOF. I’ve been in this spot and it’s hard. You really captured the essence of what an actual conversation like this would be like.

"I know I'm not supposed to be calling you, I know this is stupid and I'm crossing all sorts of lines and boundaries, and I'll probably make things worse, but, fuck... what else am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing ever happened? Pretend that I don't think of you every second of every single fucking day? I can't... I don't know how I'm supposed to... that's not– I don't even want that to be an option. I don't want to pretend that having sex with you,"

Eddie NO.

Eddie paused. Sighed.

"That wasn't just a casual fuck, that was– we used that bridal suite for what it was meant for, I don't care if you don't want to hear it. That was making love. Shit, I fucking love you, I need to... You gotta– what do I have to do, you gotta tell me. There's gotta be something. There’s-“

😟

The phone suddenly clicked.

😳🫣😬 my fucking anxiety.

A heartshattering sob burst from Eddie's chest.

Eddie broke down and let himself fall onto his couch, curling up into a ball as he cried. Maybe it was the realisation of it all. Maybe it was Steve being there and Eddie being able to see the sheer fear in his friend's face. Or maybe it was just that it had been six consecutive days of this bullshit and he'd barely slept.

Oh, babygirl. 🥺

Eddie kept crying your name and it made Steve aggressively wipe at his wet eyes all angrily as he collected bottles and other trash into garbage bags.

When was this shit going to fucking end?

Oh, babygirl #2 🥺😭

"My baby," you sighed upon the sight of him, voice cracked, immediately crying. My baby? Where the fuck did that come from? Somewhere deep within, you thought. It pained you on its way out, you could feel it pull up from the pit of your stomach.

At first, I too was like “my baby”? But then it just made sense. Like, I realized why as reader did.

It was always the same type of shit with the two of you. Always so much effort. And it was just, never ending. This was who you were. Three friends who just... had a lot of bullshit happening, all of the time. You and Eddie always with the drama, and Steve kind of always there to help. It was always the same story. This was never gonna be over.

Yiiiiiiiikes, but like true.

"Why does everything hurt so much?" Eddie let his arms wrap around your calves and broke your heart as he silently cried.

Okay THIS WHOLE BATH SCENE 🔪💔

"Let me love you," Eddie whispered. "Let me love you like you always love me,"

Me: 😟🥺 Also me: 🫡

Just before Matt had walked out, he'd said, "If it had to be someone, it's pretty cool that it was Eddie Munson."

It was just like you'd fucking said all along: Matt was too good for you. You didn't deserve someone like Matt.

oKAY bb, this HUUUUUUURTED. Sweet baby Matt.

Steve laughed, but it was humorless. It said, yea, we'll see about that dipshit. Eddie understood. Therapy had made him understand that everything was going to need proof. He'd ruined trust with everyone. This was nothing new, especially not now that he'd relapsed.

YUUUUUUUUUP. been there.

You'd placed blame for his relapse fully with yourself, and Eddie gasped, couldn't believe you were actually being serious and hugged you close.

"Baby, I'm not the way I am because of you. It's because of all the..." Eddie waved a wild arm around.

You understood.

But he knew you were going to be there. Was so very sure you'd be there. And he'd be there too.

"Foundations for this shit show were laid long before I'd ever even met you," Eddie kissed into your hair. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me again. We're not even. I've got a lot more work to do, trust me."

And so you did. Decided you were going to trust him.

I am SO GLAD that Eddie recognized this and named it and took away that pesky blame from reader because he’s right, it doesn’t belong to her. AND making the decision to trust someone when they’ve hurt you because of their addiction is such a struggle but it really does help when that person makes a living amends.

Not perfect. Far from perfect actually. There were going to be hard days to struggle through, difficult moments he wouldn't know how to deal with.

But he knew you were going to be there. Was so very sure you'd be there. And he'd be there too.

I’m, ughhhhhh, just 😭🥹❤️ This story is so beautifully written and so heart wrenchingly, devastatingly gorgeous. Hats off to you. Bravo 👏👏👏

P.S. you are inspiring me to get back to writing my Eddie x oc fic PRONTO

Never Over

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Following “Only Now”, “Over Now” and “Then Again”, the story continues. You agreed to have coffee with Eddie, because Eddie needs to speak to you. Sure, he wrote that letter, but he needs to have an actual conversation. So you do, and then, afterwards, it sort of… all just, goes to shit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, mentions of smut, angst, substance abuse, hard drugs, alcoholism, lots of being sick, addiction, codependency, withdrawal symptoms

Author’s note: So, I was really convinced that this story was over for me. That the three prior parts to this would remain a trilogy, and that, if I were to ever write for Eddie again, it would be something entirely different. But then I got a message from my girlie and, shit. Here we are.

Wordcount: 10.7K

(find all four parts of this story here)

The rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the vehicle did a good job of slowly letting Eddie fall asleep. It quickly became too difficult to keep his heavy eyelids open still, but the wide grin on his face was there to stay.

It was late, and the day had been long, but Eddie was happy. So very happy. Everything was coated in a light layer of joy, satisfaction, contentment, fulfillment and love. Even grumpy band members with snarky comments coming from the other bunks didn’t spoil his mood.

They weren’t rose-tinted glasses that falsely made him think everything was perfect, because he knew they very much weren’t perfect. However, there was a beauty in being sure.

Eddie felt sure, and Eddie would tell everyone that he felt sure all the time.

You, on the other hand, were very consistently unsure. About everything. Constantly.

The entire week leading up to meeting Eddie for coffee after Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding you’d been unsure. Eddie wanted to talk. Had to get things off his chest. And you’d said, or, had written in your case, that you’d go to meet him. But you were so very unsure about the whole thing.

You were very hesitant. Completely in two minds. On unsteady footing. Wobbly legs. Constantly all up in your head, overtaken by thought and hesitation. Yes, you were going to meet Eddie for a coffee because, why not? But no, you really shouldn’t go to meet Eddie, should you? Especially not after regret found you fast after what you’d done. It was sort of waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, where you spotted it in a huge mirror and it kind of scared you.

The person staring back at you was someone who just cheated on her boyfriend. With Eddie. Who was still upstairs, in Nancy and Jonathan’s bridal suite. Asleep.

Regret.

It immediately made you want to sneak back upstairs and take that note that you’d left. You should have never fucking done that. Everything about it had been delicious, but, at what cost? Thank God you at least looked fine. You’d been on top for a reason; not a hair was out of place. No one was to suspect anything had happened.

“Hey,”

Except maybe Steve.

“Where’s Eddie?”

You looked at Steve in the large mirror as you smoothed out your dress, and you didn’t really know what to say. You didn’t want to lie to your friend, but you could hardly tell him the truth, could you?

“Where’s Matt?” 

You omitted Steve’s question with one of your own, as if knowing where Matt was at influenced the answer you’d give him. It would, actually, but that’s not what you wanted Steve to think.

Too late though.

Steve looked at you a second before answering, “Joyce has got him in a death grip, actually got him onto the dance floor– hey, are you okay? Did Eddie leave?”

“I’m fine,”  you smiled, turned to Steve and tried to let your smile reach your eyes. “We talked.”

You did talk. Well, Eddie talked. Eddie got to say a lot of things, needed to get things out that you only half-listened to.

“Long talk,” Steve raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue. The judgment coming from him made you roll your eyes.

“Yea, well, there’s lots of things to talk about, isn’t there?”

You walked past Steve, ready to get back to the party, but Steve grabbed you by the arm before you could.

“You wanna be honest with me?”

“Steve,” you pleaded, not wanting to get into it. The ‘not now’ followed unspoken, silently. You were trying to do your best to keep all the bad feelings at bay. Everything was so fun a minute ago, you’d been so in control of everything. High on power. Where had all of it gone all of a sudden? You realised just then how fleeting all of it had been.

“Where’s Eddie?” Steve asked again.

“Upstairs.”

Steve’s expression fell and his grip loosened in surprise. You took your chance to escape him and power-walked as fast as your heels could carry you, back into the solarium. You saw Steve enter seconds after you did and were glad he hadn’t gone up to find Eddie but had instead decided to stay out of it.

Smart man.

Smart men minded their business.

But then you saw him walk over to Robin and nod his head before stepping outside with her following his tails. There was no way they weren’t going to talk about you. But, so what? They could talk. You made the conscious decision to not care, because your boyfriend, the very one who didn't dance, was on the dance floor, getting instructions from Jim Hopper as Joyce tried her best to get him to follow her lead. They had every onlooker in stitches.  

Then suddenly something panged in your chest and realisation dawned.

Matt was too good for you.

You didn’t deserve someone like him.

Fuck.

Look at that goofy goober. There wasn't a bad bone in that body.

You were going to have to tell him. Tell him everything. Oh no, and he fucking loved Eddie too. Loved Corroded Coffin. Matt was such a fan, and you had just... ruined all of it, hadn’t you?

Shit.

You saw Hopper applaud proudly, booming voice going, "You got it, kid!" when Matt got something right, and he laughed as Joyce encouraged him, praising him for even trying with her at all.

Yea. You were going to have to tell him.

Not today, though. But soon.

Your coffee meeting with Eddie hadn't gone like you had expected. You hadn't known what to expect at all, really, but you had never anticipated for Eddie to be quite so brutal. So toxic. In a way it helped, because it just proved to you that Eddie was still Eddie, no matter how honest and up front he was now.

He was just sober now. Had a bit more insight and knew how to use his words right.

Walking into the coffee shop, you saw that Eddie was in disguise, already sat at a table in the far back. He had his hood up and was wearing sunglasses indoors which inadvertently only pulled more attention towards him, but it was whatever. It's what celebrities did, and sometimes it genuinely helped, so Eddie wore the uniform of a rockstar that didn't want to be bothered. You got yourself a coffee and sat down opposite him.

You kept your coat on and gave a tight lipped smile as Eddie removed his sunglasses and reached across the table to grab onto your forearm for a moment in greeting as he smiled warmly. Eddie seemed a little nervous, but excited to see you.

You were distant. Cold. You needed to be, because for seven agonizing twenty-four hour days you'd thought of everything Eddie could say that held potential to reel you back in, and you weren't going to do that to yourself.

Eddie wanted to talk. So you were going to let him talk. Talk, listen and then leave. That was the plan.

And so, Eddie talked.

Eddie talked to you with a tilted head, apologetic scrunched up eyebrows and hands that reached to touch you every time he mentioned you. Eddie talked and forgot all about his coffee.

He spoke of childhood trauma that shaped him, his attachment issues, his inability to root anywhere properly and of finding solace in familiarity. How he looked for escapes, easy fixes to cure him from the outside in, and how awful he felt about everything he'd ever done to everyone to make them feel bad.

"Especially you."

You had a hard time looking him in the eye, studied your coffee instead.

"I know you don't owe me anything... not your time, not your friendship, not your love... you owe me nothing, but, please let me give. I want to give, you deserve everything that I never gave before, and I want to give it to you now."

You could tell Eddie went to therapy. These were beautifully crafted words for you, but you didn't want to let them in. Didn't want to let them touch you. Didn't want to let them come even slightly close.

"I'm glad you're better now," was the first thing from your lips. Besides small nods and tight smiles, you hadn't said anything yet.

"I really meant everything I wrote in the letter I sent,"

You nodded slowly, then took the last sip of your coffee and looked at your empty cup for moment. Eddie took your silence as an invitation to repeat the things he'd written. After listening to it for a few seconds, you cleared your throat and interrupted him.

"You don't have to–... I read your letter. I know what it said."

You sounded colder than you intended, and winced inwardly. But maybe it was good that you came off extra harsh, because you saw it take effect immediately.

Eddie's jaw tensed as he sat back in his chair a little. He looked at you a moment, then asked, "Have you told him?"

Matt.

"There's nothing to tell," you shrugged, and it made Eddie scoff. He looked around the room, as if to check if anyone else was hearing this. Nothing to tell? Come on. There was plenty to tell.

Eddie reached into his pocket and retrieved a note. Your note. The note you had left on the pillow that said you'd go have a coffee with him.

"This was cute," Eddie held it up between his index and middle finger, then flung it onto the table where it landed in between you.

You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked at your handwriting.

"So, um, thanks for this Eddie, good luck with–"

"Whoa... hey, you're not just leaving?" Eddie sat up in his seat.

"We've had coffee. You wanted to talk, and you talked."

"But... no, wait, that's not– we slept together a week ago,"

"Shut the fuck up," you panicked, hissing through your teeth as you ducked into your shoulders and looked around to check if anyone had heard him.

"Tell me," Eddie sat up, moved in closer, both elbows back on the table. "What do I need to do to make it right?"

You blinked at him, a little dumbfounded.

"You putting that on me?"

"No, I– I just... I'm just asking, is there anything you think I could do or say that will fix everything I've done?"

"That's a big ask, I don't think so,"

"There's gotta be," Eddie said, confident. "There is. I'm gonna figure it out." and he sat back, legs spread wide with a disgustingly smug look on his face.

There he was.

Therapy and sobriety could do a lot, but it couldn't erase the man that Eddie had become over the past few years.

"Okay, well... enjoy that. I'm gonna go, good luck with... I don't know, life, in general–"

And as you got up, Eddie suddenly shot a hand out towards you and grabbed you by the wrist. For a small moment, you saw 17-year-old Eddie stare at you pleadingly. He almost looked... scared.

"I can't, Eddie..."

You thought of what else to say. Something good, to make him feel better. Something sweet, to make him smile, maybe. But then all you managed to say was,

"I'm sorry."

And with that, you gathered your things, turned your back and walked out. The second you were out of Eddie's sight, you broke, face scrunching up as you let the tears flow freely.

You were going to have to tell Matt. Tonight. You had to.

But then you didn't, did you?

Because what were you going to tell him?

"Hey remember that celebrity that you really love? Yea... same."

You couldn't.

And so, you didn't.

Until a few days later, Eddie called whilst you were at work. A classic move. Eddie knew you wouldn't be able to pick up. Knew he'd catch your answering machine instead. He wanted to leave a message.

"I know I'm not supposed to be calling you, I know this is stupid and I'm crossing all sorts of lines and boundaries, and I'll probably make things worse, but, fuck... what else am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing ever happened? Pretend that I don't think of you every second of every single fucking day? I can't... I don't know how I'm supposed to... that's not– I don't even want that to be an option. I don't want to pretend that having sex with you,"

Eddie paused. Sighed.

"That wasn't just a casual fuck, that was– we used that bridal suite for what it was meant for, I don't care if you don't want to hear it. That was making love. Shit, I fucking love you, I need to... You gotta– what do I have to do, you gotta tell me. There's gotta be something. There's–"

The phone suddenly clicked.

"Hey," a male's voice answered Eddie.

"Is this um... is this Eddie Munson?"

Just over a week after you and Eddie had met for coffee, Steve was meant to meet Eddie ahead of a Corroded Coffin gig. Small venue, not far from where Eddie lived, and they were going to get Indian food. That was the plan. But then Eddie didn’t show, and Steve waited for thirty minutes before asked if he could make a call.

No one answered.

Worry shot over Steve, because Eddie had been good. Eddie had been really reliable these past few months. They didn’t meet up often, but when they did, Eddie would check and confirm their plans several times. Eddie made sure to not fuck up anymore, to be there for his friend, to make this right and prove to himself and to everyone else that he was doing better now. That he was sober and present and better.

But thinking of it now, Steve hadn’t heard from Eddie since they said they’d go for Indian food ahead of the gig Steve was going to attend. That was well over a week ago. He contemplated for a minute but then decided, fuck it, and left the restaurant. Something wasn’t right.

When he rang Eddie’s doorbell, he was buzzed in pretty quickly and it gave him a little hope. Maybe Eddie had just forgotten. Had gotten stuck in a song writing mood where he’d forget all about time and space and was just creative. In the flow. Spaced out, but in a good way. Steve crossed his fingers that Eddie was spaced out in the best way.

But stepping out of the elevator, he walked past a sketchy dude, the type of smug, criminal-looking guy Steve would usually steer clear off, who he saw had left the door open to Eddie’s luxury apartment.

Inside Steve found Eddie on his couch, expressionless, sort of dead-eyed. He didn’t even look up until Steve accidentally kicked a glass bottle that clattered loudly against the floor tiles, and even then it didn’t really seem like Eddie was fully in his body.

“No, no, no, no… Eddie, what the fuck,”

There were fresh coke lines on the table in front of Eddie and bottles just, everywhere. Some empty, some still somewhat full.

Fuck.

Eddie had relapsed, and he had relapsed hard.

The place looked ransacked, like Eddie had partied for a full week and hadn't let the cleaners in. There was just, shit, all over.

Eddie barely even heard Steve, but there was a shimmer of recognition in Eddie’s eyes when he saw him, followed by a disconnected smile.

“Harrington,”

Steve had never seen anyone like this. In this state. He knew Eddie had problems with alcohol – everyone knew of the alcoholism, it had been widely reported before. Just like everyone knew of his stint in rehab. And sure, Eddie used to deal a little in high school. They'd get high on bad quality weed together on Fridays sometimes, but Steve never thought that Eddie was the type of dude to snort actual lines of cocaine off tables. Especially not in his own home. Especially not by him fucking self, alone.

Shit, Eddie had been so good. He’d taken responsibility for the bad things and he’d been so good about everything.

“Forgot about dinner?”

Steve knew logically Eddie probably didn’t know what time it was, or even what day it was. He was about to miss another one of his own gigs, for fuck's sake. But the mention of food did something to Eddie.

Steve saw Eddie grow green in real time whilst he stayed overwhelmingly calm.

He’s about to hurl, Steve thought, suddenly panicked because Eddie’s place only had expensive furniture, the type of stuff Steve could never afford. And Eddie remaining so deeply calm only fucked with him more, because, why wasn’t Eddie rushing to a toilet?

Eddie leant forward slightly, only a little, and was just going to throw up right where he was sitting, so Steve darted around, found a sort of long vase stood in a corner and planted it right in between Eddie’s legs. Eddie immediately started filling it up, emptying his full stomach contents until Steve was sure the vein on Eddie’s forehead was going to pop and his throat had to be absolutely aching.

“This isn’t… fuck man, what are you doing? What happened?”

Eddie spit into the vase a few times, wiped a hand at his watery eyes, then at his mouth and sort of... babbled something. Steve could barely follow any of it, none of the noises sounded like actual words, until he caught your name. Eddie said your name and Steve thought Eddie was about to throw up again, but instead, Eddie looked at Steve and seemed a little more present. Sad and fucking hurt, but present.

“Ed… you can’t be–”

A heartshattering sob burst from Eddie's chest.

Eddie broke down and let himself fall onto his couch, curling up into a ball as he cried. Maybe it was the realisation of it all. Maybe it was Steve being there and Eddie being able to see the sheer fear in his friend's face. Or maybe it was just that it had been six consecutive days of this bullshit and he'd barely slept.

Steve looked around, sort of… defeated. Everything was a mess. The apartment had drugs and booze all over. Eddie was drunk, had coke crusted around his nose, was sweating, was crying and was sick. It was all fucked up. He had a gig in two hours. Steve needed to call people. Steve needed to get help. Steve needed to call someone, get help and...

He needed to get rid of all of the shit.

If Steve was going to help, he needed to start with getting all the substances out.

“Here, come on,” Steve took hold of Eddie’s arm and pulled him up. Helped him into the bathroom and sort of, propped him up next to the toilet with his back pressed against the tub. Then placed a glass of water next to him.

“Small sips,” he instructed, not even sure if that really was what was best.

Eddie's cries sounded worse in the bathroom, and Steve didn’t know what to do. Eddie’s voice echoed throughout the whole apartment now and sometimes, it was just wailing that turned into more vomiting, but then other times they were words, things like, sorry, I fucked up, I can't, I don't and your name.

Eddie kept crying your name and it made Steve aggressively wipe at his wet eyes all angrily as he collected bottles and other trash into garbage bags.

When was this shit going to fucking end?

When Steve called you, you let the call go to your answering machine.

You'd been crying and didn't need to talk to Steve right now. You knew Steve knew. Had heard from Matt, who had probably told him everything. Steve would say things like, I told you so. And, you brought this onto yourself. Shit you didn't want to hear. Truths you couldn't really face right now.

But when you heard Steve's voice on the tape, everything changed in an instant.

Steve's voice cracked, like he'd been crying and he sounded desperate. Panicked. Completely stressed out of his mind.

"I need you to come over, I'm sorry... I didn't want to call you, but you need to– I need you. Eddie's been... he's relapsed. It's bad. I don't know what– how I can–"

The phone clicked.

"Steve?"

You'd picked up , and Steve sighed a breath of relief. You were both sniffing down the line.

"I'm sorry," Steve said again.

"Where are you?"

"Eddie's apartment. It's... you need to know it's bad." Steve's voice didn't leave any room for questions. This was serious business. Steve would never call you over to Eddie's apartment if it wasn't absolutely desperately needed for you to be there.

"I'm on my way."

You'd never been to Eddie's apartment before, but you knew exactly where it was. Knew to steer clear of the area. Avoided it at all cost for a very long time, and found stupid excuses when Matt asked about it.

Steve buzzed you in and waited for you outside Eddie's front door. He needed to warn you extra before you were going to walk in, but stepping out of the elevator in a frenzy, you didn't let Steve stop you.

Just waltzed right in.

But the apartment was quiet, and it was just... messy. Kind of disgusting, actually.

You'd already been crying, emotions had been running high all day, so tears found you fast as you clasped a hand over your mouth. Steve caught up with you, said that he'd been cleaning for a little while already, but he didn't know what to do with the cocaine on the table, or the pills he found in the kitchen.

You sort of looked around in silence together for a moment.

This was insane.

You were scared Steve was going to say anything about Matt. About Matt finding out. About you and Eddie fucking in Nancy and Jonathan's bridal suite. But Steve said nothing of the sort.

"Corroded Coffin was meant to be on stage in an hour," with a broom in hand, Steve was a little relieved to now share the burden of all the horror he'd walked in on. He'd also called Eddie's manager. Said Eddie wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make it. Everything told Steve that his manager knew. Understood. But nothing else was said, nothing about drinking, or drug use, and Steve thought that maybe they already knew, because Eddie also hadn't shown up for sound check.

"Where's Eddie?"

Before Steve could say anything, you heard someone cough and retch. Bathroom.

"Wait, stop," Steve tried, but it was to no avail.

You found Eddie, arms folded over the toilet seat, messy head of hair resting atop, heaving.

"My baby," you sighed upon the sight of him, voice cracked, immediately crying. My baby? Where the fuck did that come from? Somewhere deep within, you thought. It pained you on its way out, you could feel it pull up from the pit of your stomach.

Steve frowned at it. He hadn't called you over to let you fall back into old patterns.

Eddie heard you and dove down deeper into himself, moved away a little, but remained on the toilet seat still. Refused to look at you because you weren't meant to see him like this. Ever. Pathetic excuse of a person.

"Eddie?" your voice was soft, small and high-pitched as your throat constricted with emotion as you kneeled down next to him. Eddie turned away, and when you reached a hand to softly touch, not to startle, but to comfort, you felt Eddie was shaking.

Steve stood in the door of the bathroom and looked at his two friends. The two people who'd been his best friends for a long time. One hiding his face into his arms over a toilet bowl, the other now moving from her knees onto her butt to sit with him, resting her chin on the other side of the toilet seat, one hand touching his arm, thumb slowly rubbing dry skin, waiting for Eddie to acknowledge her presence. One of them pretending they weren't even there, the other desperate for a connection to be made. Both quietly crying; your lip quivering, Eddie's shoulders shaking.

If this moment wasn't encased in the most awful, absolutely horrid circumstances, in a bathroom that could really use a fucking clean, Steve would've thought it was almost sort of romantic.

But it was bullshit, is what it was.

Seeing the two of you together like this, something dawned on Steve. Something that he somehow had always known was now staring at him, right in his face.

This was just like when you were 18 and Eddie had been sick after a house party where he'd been laughed at, had been ridiculed by some jocks. You'd sat with him all night until you'd both fallen asleep in the bathroom where you'd left mascara streaks on the floor tiles.

Or like when you'd been in a fight with your dad and Steve and Eddie found you on the steps of Wayne and Eddie's trailer. You'd hidden in their bathroom all night with Eddie on the other side of the door, softly talking to you until Steve decided, this wasn't what he'd come over to Eddie's for, and had gone home.

Or like when Steve had thrown you a surprise birthday party when you turned 19, but Eddie hadn't been able to make it because of work, and you'd just sulked all night. Steve had put so much effort into the preparations, and then, all throughout the party, he had put effort into cheering you up.

It was always the same type of shit with the two of you. Always so much effort. And it was just, never ending. This was who you were. Three friends who just... had a lot of bullshit happening, all of the time. You and Eddie always with the drama, and Steve kind of always there to help. It was always the same story. This was never gonna be over.

"Eddie, what did you do?" you whispered, and your voice revealed a little fear, but it carried mostly care.

"He fucked up is what he did,"

"Steve," you scolded.

"Wha–... am I wrong?"

Steve's anger built. Completely inappropriate, you thought. This was a delicate situation. A situation you'd been completely kept out of before. All those times you hadn't answered Eddie's phone calls all those months ago. All those times Steve told you that, Eddie was going to be fine. He was going to be fine, at some point. Get the help he needed. Get over whatever the fuck he'd been doing. You'd protected yourself and you'd listened then. Trusted that Steve was right. Gained strength in yourself and didn't allow Eddie to be a part of your life.

You had felt guilty then too, but... never like this.

This was the type of guilt that made you pick up when Steve called. The type of guilt that made you not even question going over to Eddie's apartment. That made you want to fix things. Fix Eddie. Fix all of it.

Guilt was the main emotion of the day. The real star of the show.

"Well? Eddie?"

Steve stood in that doorway still, broom in one hand, the other on his hip. Brow furrowed. He looked like his mom and his dad simultaneously, which, you weren't going to mention. You had no death wish.

"You've been crying out for her for over an hour, so I got her for you. She's here. Now what?" Steve spat.

Frustration and fear accumulated into this anger cocktail that Steve was spewing out at Eddie. Inability and helplessness, the complete not-knowing-what-to-do of it all that really didn't help. And now Eddie hid away and pretended you weren't even there and it rubbed Steve wrong.

Steve threw the broom he was still holding which landed hard on the bathroom tiles, making you flinch, before he left the two of you alone. Went back to the kitchen. Started furiously clearing counter tops. Had to not see you for a second.

"Eddie," you whispered, hoping that maybe he'd look up at you this time. Look you in the eye. You recalled how just over a week ago you'd been so dismissive of him. Heartless. Tried your best to come across it, at least. When you still thought that if you let Eddie in, he'd come between you and Matt, not realizing that... Eddie had sort of always been in between you and Matt anyway.

Cold and heartless was not the version of you that Eddie needed right now. And it wasn't the version of you that you wanted to be for him.

Eddie made small noises. You thought maybe he was going to say something, but then you saw his whole torso tense up, making Eddie hunch his back as he threw up again. Your hands were fast to push back his hair, collecting it behind his head into a ponytail that you tied with a hair tie you found near the sink. It revealed his face to you. Bloodshot eyes. Pained expression. Wet from crying. Awful skin.

Jesus Christ, it had just been over a week.

Eddie looked dead if it wasn't for blotches of colour that heaving brought to his face.

Not much came out of him. It was mostly just bile, by now.

Eddie struggled through it, stomach muscles spasming, nose snotting, eyes streaming and you had curled yourself around him all the way, like a backpack, pressing a cheek against his shoulder blade. You held him like that for a while, not really knowing what to say, or what else you could do.

A sudden loud clang made you turn your head. You caught a glimpse of Steve walking away, a huge big stinking vase now placed behind you.

"Rinse that out," Steve called out.

Yes. Good. A task. You could help by rinsing out what was very clearly a vomit filled vase, but when you were about to get up, Eddie clasped a hand onto your forearm.

"Stay," Eddie trembled.

"I'm staying, not going anywhere,"

You squeezed Eddie, carefully, but tightly. He seemed to need it.

"Just gotta clean something. I'll do it in the bath, I'll be right behind you,"

Eddie breathed heavily, tried his best to control it, to relax his stomach and not let it spasm, and let go of you. Rinsing out the vase in the bath was disgusting, but looking at Eddie helplessly sat by the toilet still, you couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of wanting to take care of him.

Wasn't that what it had always been?

Eddie would come back to Hawkins to be taken care of. And you always took care of him without asking any questions. Loved it. Loved him. Just couldn't stand him leaving every time.

Vase clean and turned upside down to drip-dry on a towel, you turned back to Eddie, stepped closer to him and that's when Eddie reached back, took hold of your leg. Tugged your jeans, pulled you down, turned a little, found handfuls of your shirt and pulled and tugged until you were sat on the floor in front of him, legs curled around his hips and his around yours. Arms folded around his back, and his strongly around yours. Embracing each other, impossibly tight, clinging, like that would cure everything.

Eddie cried again, buried his head into your neck. He smelled really bad.

"You're such an asshole," you said, your own lips quivering again. You kind of meant it, but hoped it would bring a little comic relief too.

"I'm a fuck up," Eddie agreed.

"You're both bullshit," Steve suddenly deadpanned and it made the both of you turn your faces to look at him.

"I was thinking, I really shouldn't say anything, because who am I... you know? This isn't my business. But then, you made it my business." Steve rubbed his brow, frowning deeply, clearly annoyed.

"Steve, let's not–" you tried.

"No. Let's!"

Steve crouched down right in front of you, elbows on knees, eyebrows raised high and nostrils flared. This is what Steve did when he was angry and had things to say. He'd get real close before he'd scold. Would make sure that you really heard what he had to tell you.

"I don't care what the fuck is going on here right now, between the two of you, but I'm done with it. It's always the same type of shit with you, like I'm stuck in a loop and there's no way out! Fucking groundhog day!" Steve got back up, intimidatingly towering over you, both hands in his hair before he continued.

"I'm not gonna come 'round and listen to you bitch and moan about why Eddie left this time," Steve said as he gestured a hand at you. Then he turned to Eddie. "I'm not gonna tell you–" Steve suddenly closed his eyes, breath shaking, trying real hard to keep it together. "You can't even fucking look at me straight, dude,"

Eddie was still drunk.

"I'm not gonna do it anymore. You can figure shit out for yourselves. I'm done." Steve turned, was about to walk out, but you stopped him. Said, "Steve, he relapsed," like that magically excused everything. But Steve stopped in the doorway, turned his head a little and said, "Yea, but so did you. Eddie with alcohol and whatever his dealers will sell him. You, with him."

Steve walked away. You thought maybe he'd just go into the kitchen again, but when you heard the front door slam shut, you knew he'd been serious.

You looked at Eddie.

Steve was right. Eddie had no control over what his eyes were doing.

"Let's get you clean. Then, bed."

Eddie obliged. Happy someone took the lead for him. Happy you took the lead for him.

But Eddie wasn't so happy the next morning, when he woke up at 4AM, sheets drenched in sweat. He was fucking freezing. You hadn't been able to sleep much and had set up camp in a comfortable chair that you'd moved to sit closer to the foot of Eddie's bed, where it was easier to watch TV. Volume all the way down.

"You should leave," Eddie croaked when he saw you.

"You should sleep more,"

"Slept plenty," Eddie tried sitting up, but was quickly fought back into the mattress by his own nausea. The pain in his head, in his stomach... he knew just the fix for it.

"If you think you're going to be able to find anything, I threw all of it out. Vacuumed up whatever you had lying around, washed everything else down the drain." You said it a little shaky, unsure of how Eddie was going to react.

Eddie thought for a second. He could definitely stick his nose into a dusty dirty vacuum, didn't feel like he was particularly above that type of behavior.

"There's nothing here, so go back to sleep," you were trying to fight off sleep yourself. Wanted to be awake in case Eddie would... in case something would happen.

Three days passed where you didn't leave the apartment. Three scary days and four scarier nights of caring for Eddie, never knowing if what you were doing was right, but doing them anyway.

You cleaned, finished Steve's job and made the place look tidy. Mess free. Aired it out, let Eddie complain about the cold that you skillfully ignored as you worked. You'd thrown all of it out. All the booze, the pills, the coke, the one discarded dirty syringe you found that you really hoped somebody else had used - you'd gotten rid of everything.

You asked Eddie if he wanted water, tea or a nap every time you caught him awake. And every time he'd sort of, frown at you. Didn't need your soft care, just needed a bit of... anything to take the edge of, but then, he always took you up on it. Always had a sip of water, maybe a little bit of tea and then would lay back down, always tried to go back to sleep.

Eddie slept a lot, but pain would wake him at odd hours. Always covered in sweat. Always shaking. Sometimes you'd worry he'd be sick again, but he'd growl he was just hurting.

Anger seeped out through his skin, and you knew it was never aimed at you, but you'd secretly cry once Eddie would drift off again.

On the second night you'd stayed over, you'd woken up on Eddie's couch around 1AM, went to check on him, and found Eddie drinking his mouthwash in the bathroom.

"Eddie?"

"Oh, shit, fuck–" Eddie scrambled to close the bottle, to hide it from you.

"What are you..." you took a small step back, scared of what you were witnessing.

"Don't leave," Eddie said, voice already cracking, afraid that you'd actually walk out now.

You took another small step back which urged Eddie to launch himself at you, arms encasing your strongly, Eddie's damp body pressed harshly against yours in an uncomfortable hug. One you didn't participate in.

"I'll get you a change of clothes," was all you managed to say when you felt how clammy he was.

Eddie sobbed and muttered things about how pathetic he was as you helped him freshen up. You sat him down in a chair as you changed his sheets. He had to stay close, couldn't really be trusted to be left alone, not even in his own apartment, apparently.

"Go back to sleep," you said when you'd finished, and you wanted Eddie to lay back down in bed so that you could sit in that chair he was sat in now, and watch him. Hold guard. But Eddie sort of looked up at you, and you thought he was going to say something. Something sweet, maybe. Something important. But then you both heard his stomach churn, and Eddie had to make a run for it.

He threw up the mouthwash, bright blue vomit clattered into the bath. Eddie seethed with anger, told you to leave him alone. "Don't want you to see me like this," he cried, and he promised he wouldn't touch the rest of the mouthwash, but yelled at you as you washed it down the drain with shaking hands.

Eddie cried. Vomited until it was all bile again, and you urged him to eat.

"Eddie, what if you die?"

"I won't fucking die,"

"You drank mouthwash!"

Eddie retched more, unable to stop it and unable to quite believe people could feel pain like this.

"You wanna go back to rehab?"

Eddie looked at you as if to say, is that a threat? You looked at him, and your expression read that it was a threat. Eddie didn't want to go back to rehab. Really, really didn't. Couldn't have you near him, but absolutely couldn't have you far. He reached for you, scared fingers dug into your skin, and you held him whilst he held on.

On the third day, you'd gotten Eddie to have a little soup and a few bites of an apple slice. Quite a bit of water, too, and Eddie seemed calmer then. Seemed to finally have snapped out of his mood.

You sat up on top of the covers in bed with him, and put on Pretty Woman.

"I'm not watching that big mouthed wench," Eddie had objected. Didn't want to watch romantic comedies with you. Happy people with happy faces and huge fucking smiles.

But you pretended you hadn't heard him, kept the movie playing until you were both sat against Eddie's headboard leant into each other, Eddie's head resting upon your shoulder and your cheek pressed into his hair.

This was nice, you thought. Almost like old times, a little.

Eddie would cramp up in waves. He'd be fine for a while, lucid, and present, and then suddenly, he'd be writhing. You always had a bucket ready, and helped him through it. Eased him back into his pillows, and would climb back into bed next to him. Always over the covers.

It was awful, but this was the process, you thought. It was complete misery, all kind of gross and disgusting, and Eddie was mortified but grew clingy. Needed you there. And so you were, but always over the covers.

That was, until Eddie, when the movie was nearly finished, groaned a little. His face was blotchy, eyes all red rimmed and his hair a tangled mess. You forgot what Eddie looked like without his bangs stuck to his forehead. He always seemed to be wet.

"You all right? What do you need? Water? I can make you more soup,"

"No, I'm just... cold,"

Eddie let his teeth chatter, and you looked around the room for a second.

"Eddie, it's fucking boiling in here,"

"Can you turn the heating on?"

The heating was on.

You took a good look at him. He didn't look as grey as he had a few days ago, but he still looked miserable. Sick like you'd never seen sickness before.

"I'll run you a hot bath,"

You helped Eddie ease into the water and sat on the ledge behind him, Eddie between your legs, so you could wash his hair. Eddie always loved it when you washed his hair, would really melt under your touch as you massaged soapy suds into his curls. But, his hair was one bit bird's nest, and so now, it was an agonizing job that needed doing. You were as gentle as you could be, but Eddie would wince as you worked to detangle the matted mess in the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, baby,"

"Why does everything hurt so much?" Eddie let his arms wrap around your calves and broke your heart as he silently cried.

Eddie let you wash him until he was all clean and then let you braid his hair after. His hands hadn't left your body since you'd helped him into the bath, and you hoped that it meant that he was over the hump. That this was a turning point, and everything was going to get better now.

That night, you'd slept with Eddie under the covers. You big spooned him. Held him tight. Whispered that everything was going to be fine, and the fact that Eddie didn't seem to be so sweaty confirmed that you were probably right.

It was all going to be fine.

At some point, Eddie turned and tried to kiss you. He pressed his lips onto yours, and for a second, you sort of let it happen. Let your mouths brush together. But it didn't feel right. Eddie was vulnerable, and you were exhausted, and it all felt wrong. So you stopped it. Broke the kiss. Moved your head away a little.

"Let me love you," Eddie whispered. "Let me love you like you always love me,"

"Later, Eddie. You're unwell,"

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine," Eddie's voice cracked.

Beautiful words that made your chest swell. But these weren't things to dive into now.

"Later, baby. These are things for later."

You didn't reject Eddie, but to Eddie, it felt a little like a rejection, and he buried his face into your neck. Hid in there and kept it there, all snuggled up, until you both fell asleep.

The next morning you stirred awake at 8AM which really felt like sleeping in at that point. Eddie was bone dry. No sweat. No tears. You even detected a little colour in his cheeks.

It was time. Eddie had eaten, had managed to keep it all inside and so, it was time.

You'd done enough.

Home.

You slipped out, wearing one of Eddie's T-shirts still, and didn't leave a note. No dumb, stupid note. None of this was cute, or funny, or in any need of a sad little note that Eddie could keep and then throw at you later. Or, like you'd done, could keep in an old shoe box with other stupid things that you couldn't just get rid of.

You just left. Went home. Sort of trusted that you'd see Eddie later. Maybe. If he really had changed, was willing to at least try to change, like he'd said.

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine."

You wanted it to be true so badly, but his actions were going to have to speak louder than his words.

You forgot what would be awaiting you at your apartment until you actually stepped inside and were greeted by your own mess. Drawers pulled open, half your clothes on the floor, big empty spaces left where Matt's things used to be. Slapped down and broken picture frames - completely your doing, not Matt's, but glass had shattered and you'd just... left it. You had even ran a bath for yourself, and then had let the soapy water sit and grow cold, because you didn't really deserve a bath, did you?

You remembered how you'd found Eddie's voicemail message two days after he had left it, listened to it with Matt in the room, and listened to it until you heard Matt pick up the phone. The tape had caught his voice, but then it cut off. Matt knew now, but Matt was just as non-confrontational as you were, and had known for two whole days. Hadn't said a word. But the truth had now been spoken into existence with the both of you looking at each other, and there was no way either of you could pretend still. Could pretend to not have heard it. Could deny any of it.

"What else did he tell you?"

It was the worst question to ask Matt, because it revealed there was more to your and Eddie's story than you'd ever told him.

"Enough," was all Matt said, never elaborated.

So, that was it then.

You'd sat on your couch, sort of dazed, stared into space, not even able to really cry even though this was a situation that deserved tears. Then Matt slowly started packing up all his things around you. Matt had stuff all over, hadn't technically moved in with you, but really only ever spent one, maybe two nights a week at his own place. Matt didn't move around with anger, but left the place messy, dropped your things on the floor without caring to pick up after himself. Good, you thought. Stand your ground, Matt. I deserve shittier treatment.

Just before Matt had walked out, he'd said, "If it had to be someone, it's pretty cool that it was Eddie Munson."

It was just like you'd fucking said all along: Matt was too good for you. You didn't deserve someone like Matt.

Self-hatred, absolute vile loathing of every single aspect that build your person, completely consumed you. Regret. Shame. So much guilt. You felt like you needed to hurt yourself because Matt hadn't hurt you enough. He hadn't yelled, hadn't shouted, hadn't said mean things. You only started crying once Matt was gone, and that alone added to all you had to be embarrassed about.

And then Steve called and offered you the greatest distraction of all. Eddie needed taking care of. And Steve was going to let you.

Back in your home now, it all came flooding back, and you sort of fell into the same state you'd been in then. Slumped back on your couch. Crying. Drowning in a weird version of self pity, sort of overwhelmed with how shit it all was. Steve mad. Eddie a mess. Matt gone. You empty. Alone.

You just sat like that. Stared into space, tears running all the way down your neck into the collar of one of Eddie's T-shirts you were still wearing.

Then, your doorbell rang.

You looked at your buzzer a minute, not really moving.

It rang a few more times, until it stopped.

A little bit later, footsteps followed on the stairs, and then, a knock on your door. A muffled mention of your name.

"Eddie?"

You got up, opened the door and found him there.

"I rang different doorbells until someone let me in," Eddie explained, but you didn't really react to that.

Eddie was here.

Actions were going to have to speak louder than words.

He was here.

Eddie looked over your shoulder, behind you, eyes scanning your pigsty of an apartment.

"Oh, shit," he commented, looked at your tear-stained face that was still staring up at him, gaze empty, because that's how you felt. All empty.

"Okay. Come on, your turn. Go sit down." Eddie took you by the shoulders and guided you back to you couch where you let yourself fall back on your spot.

"Tea?" Eddie asked, and then answered for himself, "Tea."

Eddie made you tea. Then started tidying. Cleaning. Just started putting everything in places where he thought they belonged. Did things wrong, but you didn't correct. He took broken picture frames, threw out shards of glass and tucked the photographs into a drawer. Ran a laundry after. Emptied the bath and rinsed and scrubbed the soap rim the water had left behind. Dishes next.

Eddie was sweating, more than was normal, and you knew he was struggling still. Probably felt sick to his stomach. But he was here, and for the first time in for fucking ever, you felt your battery charge with Eddie there. Eddie was charging your battery instead of draining it. Weird, but this was it. The thing. Eddie said there had to be something he could to do fix it. This was it. Eddie was fixing it.

Eddie saw you had three messages waiting on your answering machine, then told you, "Hey, you've got three messages waiting on your answering machine. Want me to play them for you?"

You nodded.

They were all from Steve.

"Hey, are you still not back home?" followed by a heavy, frustrated sigh, "You're going to end up killing each other, you know that right?", then a silence, followed by a loud beep.

Second message.

"I hope you're not answering because you're at work, and not still wiping vomit of Eddie's chin..." a beat, then, "You're like the wrong sides of two magnets who try to keep pushing themselves together. It's not gonna work!" another loud beep.

Third message.

"If you're not answering because you don't want to talk to me, I get it... I shouldn't have called you over to Eddie's place, I didn't know what I expected to happen, but... I spoke to Matt, just that afternoon, and he... sort of explained what happened, and, seeing you and Eddie be all cutesy– it made me mad for him. Matt's a good dude, you know he didn't deserve that... but guess what he said? He was like, this is going to be the best story ever – Eddie Munson stole my girlfriend. Can you believe that?" Steve fell silent for a second, then said, "Sorry I yelled at you. Please call me back when you get this... I'll call again tomorrow if you don't."

Loud beep.

No more messages.

Eddie just looked at you, tried to gather your reaction, but you were giving him nothing.

"You OK?"

With your eyes trained on your coffee table, you gave your head a tiny shake no.

"You wanna nap? Lay down for a little bit?"

They were words you'd said to Eddie many times over the past three days. Instead of answering him, you slumped sideways, rolled yourself up in a little ball, knees against your chest. Eddie immediately stepped closer, took a throw blanket and tucked you in.

"Can I lay with you?"

Eddie hovered, but you didn't answer. Couldn't answer, your throat had closed up with all these negative emotions, all of them aimed at yourself. You didn't deserve softness right now. So then, Eddie didn't lay with you, but instead sat down in a chair. He could just sit there while you slept. Not touching, but, he was close. That was all he wanted, anyway. To be close.

You woke up when your phone rang.

Eddie was quick, tiptoed to the phone as fast as he could and hoped it hadn't woken you up.

"Hello?" he answered, voice hushed.

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then, "Munson?"

"Harrington," Eddie smiled a little smug smile, happy he caught Steve on the phone.

"Yea?" Steve asked, and Eddie knew what he meant. "You're actually doing this?" Steve challenged.

"I think we might be... well, I am, anyway. We'll see if she'll let me."

Steve laughed, but it was humorless. It said, yea, we'll see about that dipshit. Eddie understood. Therapy had made him understand that everything was going to need proof. He'd ruined trust with everyone. This was nothing new, especially not now that he'd relapsed.

"I swear to God, Eddie. I'm not-"

"I know. I heard you the first time."

Steve scoffed.

"You seemed pretty out of it then,"

"I was," Eddie confirmed. "But you were very clear,"

"No fucking it up, Eddie,"

"I won't."

"Remember? Be mindful."

Oh, Eddie remembered.

"Hey Steve?" Eddie swallowed, knew his words weren't enough, but needed to say them anyway. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, and, um... thank you... you didn't have to, you know... just, thanks."

"You're good. Is she there?"

Eddie turned around and saw you were awake.

"Just woke up, hang on - it's Steve, you good to talk to Steve?"

You held a hand out as you sat up, knowing the cord could easily make it to your couch, and Eddie passed you the handset as he sat back down in his chair.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing out of your mouth, voice all strained.

Steve was silent for a second. He couldn't just accept that and move on.

"You were right. I'm total bullshit," you admitted.

"Hey," Eddie frowned.

"Sorry, we're total bullshit,"

That wasn't what Eddie meant, but that did make him smile. You heard Steve sigh.

"You're not bullshit. I actually think, and this is going to sound fucking wild coming from me, but I talked about it with Robin and she agrees... I think you actually might just be perfect for each other,"

Eddie was close enough to hear Steve on the other end, and he placed a hand on your knee. Let you know he agreed, too. He really fully fucking agreed.

"Stop, you're going to make me cry," you joked, but actually meant it.

"You gonna let Eddie comfort you this time?" You could hear Steve's smile in his voice, could picture it perfectly and copied it.

"I think I might, he's doing a fairly okay job right now," you looked at Eddie. "You've done plenty, Steve,"

Passage of the token. Eddie squeezed your knee.

"I love you, but..." Steve searched his mind for the right words. "But, you're just... a lot, the both of you,"

That made you laugh. He was fucking right.

"Could you still handle, like... 50 per cent of me?"

Eddie leant over, whispered, "Ask him if he can do 40, I'll easily do 60,"

"40?" you asked Steve, and Steve laughed.

"30 and it's a deal,"

Eddie heard, loudly said, "I'm not watching romantic comedies with her, dude!"

"All right, all right. 40."

You laughed and loved how it felt to laugh together, all three of you. You couldn't remember the last time the three of you laughed together like this.

"Love you Steve,"

"I love you too. Hey, is it weird if I come over? We could do a late lunch, maybe?"

Eddie took the phone from you, said, "Yea, no, that's gonna be weird,"

"What? Why?" Steve was confused, but it only lasted a second. "Oh gross, you're going to be open about fucking now, aren't you?"

"Bye Harrington,"

Eddie didn't even properly hang up the phone, but had simply dropped it to the floor instead before moving over to kiss you.

He then fucked you right there on your couch.

Afterwards you'd looked around, had said, "We're even now," and Eddie had burst out laughing. "Oh no, sweetheart, we're far from even. Are you forgetting who caused you all this trouble?" Eddie said, and when you just looked at him. He then pointed a fat finger at himself.

"Yea, but, did you not reach for a bottle after what I said to you?"

You'd placed blame for his relapse fully with yourself, and Eddie gasped, couldn't believe you were actually being serious and hugged you close.

"Baby, I'm not the way I am because of you. It's because of all the..." Eddie waved a wild arm around.

You understood.

"Foundations for this shit show were laid long before I'd ever even met you," Eddie kissed into your hair. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me again. We're not even. I've got a lot more work to do, trust me."

And so you did. Decided you were going to trust him.

Eddie got more help. More therapy. More AA meetings. More keeping busy with other hobbies, like cooking. And baking. He made sure he'd see you every day, would never stray too far, even though you literally lived above and worked in a bar... this was never going to be easy. But Eddie had you, and he promised he'd take care of you and of himself.

You found a way to be together, and then, seemed to never not be together. Joined at the hip again, but without Steve this time 'round.

Steve came over all the time, though. Visited at least once a week. For lunch, or for dinner. To watch romantic comedies with you, and Eddie would join, just because actually, if he didn't focus on her mouth too much, Julia Roberts wasn't that terrible of an actress.

The band had taken a short break, and Eddie had decided they should be open with the public about why. Said it would actually help a lot if people knew about how difficult addiction could be. Would make it less of an awkward conversation whenever he had to explain to people he was actively practicing sobriety.

And Eddie did good. Got real good at all of it again. Had good days, and then good weeks. He felt more and more himself, and Wayne recognized it too. He kind of had his nephew back, said he'd missed him a lot and hadn't known if he'd ever really would get to see him again which had made Eddie cry.

Eddie was doing good, and Eddie knew a large chunk of it was because he had you now.

But then, after a few months of doing good, touring was back on the table, and Eddie immediately grew nervous.

Loneliness was Eddie's biggest trigger, and it wasn't being alone that was an issue, because on tour, you were never really one hundred per cent alone. There were always people all over. Everywhere. All the time. The real issue was the feeling of being alone, especially when surrounded by so many. Eddie's cure for this dull ache of loneliness had always been a lil' drinky drink. Just, a little sippity sip, a tiny little drop. Just one drink, you know, to take the edge of.

Eddie knew this about himself, and so, he was nervous. Scared. Sort of, riddled with anxiety.

You'd suggested some form of training. "We can sleep apart from each other for two consecutive nights, only call each other when we can find the time, just to try it out? See what that does? And then if that goes well, do three or four nights next..."

At 3AM on that first night, Eddie had snuck his way into your apartment and into your bed. Hugged you real tight, like he'd been gone for months.

"That was only a few hours," you'd croaked after checking the time.

"Few hours too many," Eddie'd whispered.

"How are you ever going to do this?" you were more awake then, wanted to have a talk. Face this head on.

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't cling to you so much," Eddie said, worried you'd judge.

"That's all right," you were quick to make sure he didn't feel any judgment. "I quite like being clung to,"

"I promise I'll get better at this,"

"It's going to take time," you warned, knowing tour started just over a month from then.

"Someday, I'll be better." Eddie snuggled closer, eyes closed, tired.

Someday didn't come fast enough, just like you'd predicted, and so, with some creative paperwork and serious conversations with your landlord, your boss, Eddie's management and the band, arrangements had been made.

Eddie needed you there. And you had your own thing, your own personal problems, serious issues, with Eddie leaving. So, it really worked out for the best for the both of you. The solution to both of your problems was one and the same. You were going to go on tour with them.

"Did I not tell you that you're perfect for each other?" Steve had said with a goofy smile when you told him.

You became part of the Corroded Coffin entourage, not with any other specific job than just... being there. It took a some adjusting, because Eddie was different when he was Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin. There were certain expectations, and Eddie felt like people wanted him to fall into his rockstar patterns, do the things he always did when out on the road. Go to parties, bring parties back to hotel rooms, invite who ever seemed like a fun time onto the bus, drink a lot. You had no idea how Eddie would've even done this if you hadn't been there and, you'd never tell Eddie this, but you were convinced that he probably would've killed himself.

You slept on the tourbus together, had tried to squeeze into one bunk together, but that was only really doable for naps. There wasn't enough room to even roll over without shifting and scooting your whole body when you laid in a bunk alone, by yourself, so doubling up was never comfortable for long. Not for the long stretch of rest Eddie needed after shows. That's when you'd sleep on bunks opposite each other. You would remind each other how many more nights until you'd share a hotel bed again, and then let the rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the bus lull you to sleep. You'd close the curtains to your bunks enough, but never all the way, always leaving a gap so you could see each other.

And sometimes, even the small distance between your bunks was too much distance, and Eddie would reach out a hand from underneath his curtain. You'd grab it and then you'd fall asleep holding hands that dangled in the middle of the walkway.

Everyone else hated it.

"This is worse than when they'd sleep on top of each other in one bunk those first few days,"

"Close your eyes and go to sleep, man. You don't have to look at it,"

Salty comments would come from bunks beneath you, and from behind your curtains, you'd smile sleepy smiles at each other.

Happy.

Eddie was so happy. So sure that this was it now.

Not perfect. Far from perfect actually. There were going to be hard days to struggle through, difficult moments he wouldn't know how to deal with.

But he knew you were going to be there. Was so very sure you'd be there. And he'd be there too.

Eddie was happy.

Had his past with you.

Cherished his present with you.

Felt sure about his future with you.

And that was all he'd ever really need. You.

the end

---

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[mariahsparkle206]

guess this will be something i bring up in therapy lmao. 

so... i lost my grandpa end of may. and that was devastating. he was my father figure, head of the house, mentor, parental figure, friend, etc. we really connected and are in many ways similar. 

anyway - when it happened i called someone i once considered my best friend and first thing she says “omg are you going to sue the hospital”... i ended that call very quickly and couldn’t believe my ears. when you loose someone and are reaching out, thats not what someone should say or ask. its just not. 

i have realized ive made excuses for her our entire friendship. well she has protective parents, well shes young, well she has anxiety, well this and that... and in our entire friendship it has been me reaching out to her. its been me comforting her. its been me listening to her at least 85% of the time. 

I’ve been in grief, i am grieving. And because of this, I haven’t been as interactive as i was before. i havent been social. i’ve been even more depressed than normal. So needless to say, that phone call was the last one we had. 

Before his service, i messaged her asking if she wanted to help me find a dress or outfit. i told her when it was and where it was. she said she would help me, then she ghosted me. wouldnt respond to my calls, wouldnt respond to my messages. fine. she didnt help me find an outfit, she didn’t show up to the service, she didnt send any card or flowers or messages. 

 i reached out to her again when her dog died, even sent flowers to her. she said thanks. thats been that. I reached out to her again, she said she wasn’t feeling well so we shouldn’t hang out. 

I understand that she is going through something - shes pregnant. didn’t invite me to the gender reveal, didn’t invite me to the baby shower - but, considering ive reached out, ive been trying and im going through something too i think says it all. i dont ask for much - a call, a message, something. she can’t be bothered. 

i can’t make excuses anymore. im done trying to. im done fighting to have people in my life. i understand people get busy and go on different paths - but for someone you call your best friend to loose someone so close to them and so important and you don’t even send a single message in over 3 months... says a lot about how much you value that “friendship” lmao. especially when you don’t even try to include them in something so monumentally important in your life. 

im so sick and tired of always being told that i have to be the making an effort when its a two way fucking street. and honestly, what has she added to my life? what value has she brought? - drama, sure. guess whats done is done. 

[eliasiis]

SINCE REQUESTS ARE OPEN ragbros with Lee Kaeya please-

oh my god this was so fun to write. first of all i am SO ler for kaeya like it's crazy. secondly. writing ragbros is so fun their dynamic if they were friends again is so fun to think about i love to read like... different interpretations of ragbros friendships but i stand by a mutual friendship of teasy bickering ok its just. chefs kiss mwah

reunited

ragbros <333

word count: 1.4k

It hasn't been too long since Kaeya and Diluc... Reunited, for lack of a better word.

It's a very tentative sort of reunited- The kind where they're both afraid to say something that'll set the other off, or maybe they'll say something they don't mean and it'll shatter everything.

But that hasn't happened yet. They're careful around each other. They're cautious, walking on eggshells that if they think about it rationally, aren't really there.

But it's nice to... Get along again. If Kaeya sees Diluc in Mondstadt he has the privilege to actually have a conversation with him rather than pretend he never saw him at all.

Now, though, Kaeya leisurely strolls into Angel's Share. After hours, of course.

Diluc barely glances at the door before he speaks. "We're closed... Oh, it's you." If Kaeya weren't paying attention, he wouldn't have noticed the small upwards quirk of Diluc's lips. He makes himself comfortable on the stool near the bar, right across from his brother.

Kaeya does his usual smirk, leaning his elbows on the bar with his hands clasped beneath his chin. "If you're closed, you should lock your doors, don't you think?" He asks.

Rolling his eyes, Diluc crosses his arms. "Forgive me for that. What'll it be?" He asks, casually setting his hands down on the bar. It really wouldn't usually mean anything, but Diluc acting so casual even with Kaeya's presence around makes Kaeya so much happier than it should.

"Mmm.... Surprise me," He says, lazily tapping a finger on the cold, wood surface.

"What makes you believe I won't just give you grape juice?" Diluc teases, yet turns around and starts making one of those unbelievably delightful concoctions of his. God, they're good.

"You wouldn't do that to your poor brother, would you?" Kaeya says, starting with his damn puppy eyes- Diluc wasn't even planning to actually give him grape juice, but he averts his eyes anyway. Those eyes could make the most stone-hearted man crumble.

He presents Kaeya with a drink. It's pretty, that's for sure. Two colors layer over each-other, a peachy orange at the top and a nice, light pink at the bottom.

"Well, what is it?" He asks, swirling the drink around a bit. The colors mix a bit more. It's almost... entrancing.

"You said to surprise you. Try it yourself," Diluc says. He matches Kaeya's tapping on the bar, but his seems a bit more impatient, like he's waiting for Kaeya to try it. He knows his drinks are good, but he also knows that he knows Kaeya's preferences and this is a little... Different. On the topic of walking on eggshells, even this feels like one of them. Like making a drink he doesn't like could be...

(He doesn't use the word betrayal anymore. Not when it comes to Kaeya.)

"Mmm! Oh, Diluc, your skills never fail to amaze me." Kaeya takes leisurely sips of his drink, leaning forward on the counter. The comment is genuine, but his tone is playfully teasing.

"Is that so? I seem to remember you talking with Rosaria the other day... Hmm... About how you just can't stand a certain drink I make." Diluc remarks, making the most unamused expression he can muster- Which is to say, he still looks pretty amused.

Kaeya gasps, as if in offense. "Have you been eavesdropping on me? For shame, 'Luc. I should've known you'd do something like that." He shakes his head in disapproval. Diluc comes around the bar to sit on the stool beside his brother.

"You're always sitting right in front of me. Was I supposed to tune you out?" He asks, punctuating his remark with a gentle poke to Kaeya's side, just thinking it'd be a casual sort of contact- Something to shorten the distance between them just a little more, but he's surprised when Kaeya squeaks and bats his hand away, trying to cover it up with a cough.

"Kaeya... You're still ticklish?" He can't help but ask, letting his small smirk grow into a sort of fond smile mixed with something more teasing.

"I- Well, it's- Are you?" Kaeya's attempt to turn the attention off of himself is a total failure, and to save it he tries to retaliate with a poke to Diluc's side instead. This fails as well, when Diluc catches Kaeya's wrist in his hand before he can make it.

"Answer the question, Kaeya."

"...No, I don't think I will."

"Well, I can just find out myself then." Before Kaeya can make any attempt to run away or deflect, Diluc already has two hands squeezing at his sides, thumbs massaging into his skin over the thin material of his shirt.

"W-Wait! Nohohoho fahahahair! 'Luc, You bahahastard!" Kaeya squeals, covering his smile with one gloved hand and desperately pushing at Diluc's shoulder with the other.

"Are you in any position to be insulting me, Kaeya? For shame." He mimics Kaeya's earlier words right back to him, climbing up to scribble his fingers under his arms, to which Kaeya reacts with a high-pitched squeal and howling cackles. He slams his arms down as tight as he possibly can, still squirming about. "You'll fall off the stool if you do that," Diluc comments, still chuckling.

When Kaeya looks Diluc in the eye, he detects such a soft fondness that he has to look away. His squirming becomes significantly less because he wants to get away and more because he can't help it. "Oh, shuhut uhuhup! Nohoho, Luc, Not thehehere-!! AACK-!!"

He feels the lightest poke to his hips and Kaeya screeches. The only thing he can think to do is retaliate. He knows somewhere Diluc used to be incredibly ticklish and can only hope that he still is.

Grabbing at Diluc's ribs, Kaeya gasps with relief and curls up in his seat when Diluc flinches away.

"...I'll make you regret that, Kaeya."

Kaeya jumps out of his seat, holding his hands up in front of him as if that'll save him.

"Waitwaitwaitwait- 'Luc, H-Hold on, you don't want to do this!"

"Is that a threat?"

"I- What?!"

"Lost your wit, Kaeya?"

Diluc inches closer with a dangerous look in his eyes. If Kaeya's good at anything, it's running. He darts up the stairs with a silly, unrepressable grin on his face. His legs feel like jelly and he's almost bursting with a giddy energy as he hears Diluc's quick footsteps following him.

Before he can turn the corner, Diluc's dashed in front of him and he's just run straight into his brother, causing a domino effect. They both fall straight to the floor.

Kaeya can't help it, he rolls onto his side and doubles over laughing, because how can they still be so childishly stupid?

He cracks his eye open to look at Diluc, and he notices that they're both laughing. Diluc's covering his eyes with one hand, and his laugh is still so bouncy and happy, just as it was when they were kids. Only, now it has a more mature, rich sound to it. Kaeya rolls onto his back again, panting.

"We're not done here," Diluc says. He has an evil smile on his face and Kaeya does try to get up to run away again but his legs are jelly and he just flops back downward.

Diluc grabs his hips and starts clawing and Kaeya can't even think. The ticklish feeling is both delightfully silly and unbearably intense and he cannot believe this is happening right now. "N-No! Fuhuhuck! Oh, Archons, EEK-!! Dihihiluc! Stahahap, I can't! I cahahan't!!"

"Wow. You're usually a lot more cocky than that. Apologize." Diluc massages his fingers into Kaeya's hip-bones and he involuntary bucks, smacking at Diluc's hands to no avail.

"For Whaahahahat?!? I dihihidn't-!" Before he can finish his sentence, Diluc moves his one hand to scribble under his arms while the other stays at his hips and he just gives in, shrieking and bucking and trying to escape the hands of his evil brother. "I'M SORRY! I'm sohohohorry!" He apologizes without even knowing what he's apologizing for, but before he can even react, Diluc's hands have stilled and he's already standing.

Panting like an idiot on the floor, Kaeya glares at Diluc. As much as he can with that grin still plastered to his face, anyway. "Why? Explain what your goal was just now."

Diluc mockingly hums, as if really thinking about it. "I felt like it. You were apologizing for insulting my drink, by the way."

"Hmph. Well, maybe you should've taken my advice."

"Maybe you should watch your mouth before we go through all that again."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I definitely would."

Kaeya rolls his eyes, playfully punching Diluc's arm and flinching when he receives an evil glare in return.

He missed this.

[dragonmuse]

So I absolutely love Lucius’s and Stede’s relationship in the main verse, and how it somewhat mirrors cannon but with a little added Mutual Respect. I would love to see more of their friendship and especially any conflict/resolution between them. I also admit that I am SUPER curious about the inevitable conversation(to be clear I don’t think stede would be mad but he’d for sure have feelings) they had after Sinking about Lucius being Charlie’s part-time gay mentor/confidante

(I was saving this one and tonight seems perfect now.)

Stede came back from the trip quiet.  It was, in Lucius' now long experience, a bad sign when the man wasn’t talking. It was an even worse sign that he kept giving Lucius long contemplative looks then quickly pretend he wasn’t when Lucius caught him at it. 

After considering his options, he went to Eddy. 

“What gives?” 

She was putting on her press-ons, a task that apparently needed much concentration. Or she was purposely ignoring him. 

“Eddy,” he said seriously. 

She lined up the thumb and then held it down. 

“Eddy!” 

“What?” She groaned. “I’m trying to ignore you, why are you so loud?” 

“Genetics. What is going on with Stede? Why does he keep looking like he’s trying to dissect my brain?” 

“Dunno,”  she held up her hand. 

“Eddy!” 

“Stop saying my name like that!” 

“I will when you tell me something.” 

“No.” 

“Bad choice Teach-Bonnet. Eddy. Eddy. Eddy. Eddy Eddy-” 

“I’m trained to withstand interrogation.” 

“Yeah, Iz says that too and I crack him every time. Eddy. Eddy. Eddy. Eddy! Eddy-” 

“Stop! Fuck, just...it’s Charlie, okay?” 

“Yeah, obviously it’s Charlie. I didn’t think you all went to see him then came back weird about something else,” he groaned. “What about-Oh. Oh shit.” 

“What? I didn’t say anything,” Eddy reached for the next nail. 

“You said enough. Thanks for your service.” 

“Please leave me the fuck alone,” she groaned. "You're on my very last nerve and you don't want to know what's under it."

“Leaving.” 

Lucius didn’t go to confront Stede right away. He let the night take its course. The show ran, he did his various duties. Then he went home with Pete and got a good night’s sleep. In the morning (early, but the kid had probably been up for hours because he was a beautiful freak), Lucius texted, 

Lucius: You ratted on me. You will pay the price. 

Charlie: They thought I was alone. Seemed like the only thing I could offer that wasn’t a resume of fuck buddies. 

Lucius: I’m touched. Also a resume of fuck buddies sounds like a dating app idea. Get on that, younger generation. 

Charlie:  i don’t even know html 

Lucius: Lazy is what I’m hearing. 

Then with less joie de vivre, he sent: 

Lucius: We’re getting lunch today and you’re not grilling me.

Stede: I just have some questions. 

Lucius: I’m not going to tell you anything he confided in me, you know that right? Just like I wouldn’t tell anyone the shit you’ve told me that’s private. 

Stede: I know. I respect that. Where do you want to eat? 

Lucius: It’s going to be a long meal, let’s do that restaurant where the wait staff are half-asleep. 

Stede: Fine, but I think Eddy’s right. It’s a front for organized crime. 

Lucius: They organize top tier entrees, so that’s fine by me. 

“Going to meet Stede for lunch,” Lucius told Pete, giving him a prolonged kiss. “Keep those lips warm for me.” 

“Always,” Pete laughed, swatting at his ass as he swanned past. 

The restaurant wasn’t far and Lucius was sliding into his chair by the windows  just a handful of minutes later. Stede came down the sidewalk in a hurry. He must’ve gotten stopped at the door, his hair a little mussed. When he took his chair, he was smiling faintly, 

“Two waters please,” he asked the waiter without much hope and the man did indeed promptly disappear. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” Lucius settled in for it. “So. How’d it go?” 

“The visit was good. I suppose you already know that he came out.” 

“It came up,” Lucius confirmed. 

“He said you’ve known for four years.” 

“Yeah, it was an accident. Not like he was running to blab.” 

Stede nodded, eyes dropping to the table. “I keep going over and over it in my head. How I missed it. How I just never... I made all these promises to myself about how I’d be better and I’m not, deep down, am I?” 

“Of course you are,” Lucius rolled his eyes. “He’s just...dunno. Charlie is gonna Charlie. But you’re not your abusive fuck of a dad.” 

“That’s almost word for word what Eddy said.” 

“Yeah, well, they're pretty smart sometimes.” 

“But I did fail.” 

Lucius shrugged, “I don’t know. What’s failure look like? At least the two of you are talking.” 

“Are you on the outs with her again?” 

“Not at the moment,” he waved that away. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do. And I think...well. He’s giving me a chance now. Was he..was he safe at least? I think about all those days when we weren’t keeping track of him now.” 

“He was,” Lucius was fairly confident in that. “I gave him some general guidelines. And you guys did all the safe sex talk stuff with him.” 

“Safe-” Stede pulled a face. “I meant safe in the sense he wasn’t running in danger. He was sexually active at sixteen?” 

“Nope. No,” Lucius clapped a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t say that!” 

“You basically did!” 

“Didn’t! He’s probably still a virgin! Wear white at his wedding.” 

“You’re a dreadful liar,” Stede groaned. “Sixteen!” 

“I mean, I was fifteen, if we’re judging,” Lucius protested. “Some of us are early bloomers.” 

“He was all limbs and eyes at that age. He was a baby! Did someone take advantage of him?” 

“Stede,” Lucius said firmly, “That I would’ve told you. Come on. I wasn’t going to stand by and  watch while something terrible happened.”

“Yes, sorry. I know.” 

“Even if he was out to you, you know he wouldn’t be telling you about his sex life, right? That’d be kind of weird. He was going to need someone. And he wasn’t giving me details either, for the record.” 

“I just...I worry maybe he’s not giving anyone any details. About anything, not sex,” Stede fidgeted with a fork. Water and their menus finally arrive. Neither of them picked them up. They were both in the habit of picking what they wanted to eat from online menus before they ever showed up. “He’s always been a little closed off, I had no idea how much.” 

“He is. But he’s working on it.” 

“He said he had a hard winter.” 

“And I told you that I’m not giving up his secrets,” Lucius picked up his water for something to do with his hands. 

“But he had you to talk to.” 

And Stede was giving him the full born pleading look, all puppy dog eyes and down turned mouth. Lucius sighed and had to deliver the killing blow. 

“Me and Iz, yeah.” 

“I see,” the puppy dog eyes dropped to his hands. “I had no idea they were that close.” 

“Izzy and Charlie?” He asked incredulously. 

“Yes?” 

“But Charlie visits every time he’s in town.” 

“He does?” 

“Yeah, he-” was that a secret? Lucius considered. Maybe. Sort of. Except Izzy had never said it was and Charlie hadn’t acted like he was being secretive “He plays basketball with Jim, Read and Izzy all the time. It’s a whole thing. And Izzy and him trade books back and forth.” 

“I thought the book thing had stopped years ago. Jim and Read are in on that too?” 

“I don’t think they were hiding it or at least didn't know Charlie was if that's what he was up to. They just all like getting sweaty because they’re fucking weird,” Lucius shrugged. “Book thing never stopped. Sometimes I ask Charlie to recommend things to Iz so he’ll read them because he’s already rejected them for me. Kind of surprised he hasn’t caught on yet.” 

“But Izzy didn’t know he was gay?” 

“Charlie didn’t tell him,” Lucius said, honestly. The not being surprised thing had been a whole long conversation that was definitely not Stede fodder. The man might actually throw up and there were limits to what Lucius could tolerate over lunch. 

“I see,” Stede was still frowning, still puzzling through. “I’m not sure what I can ask. What I should ask. What do you think of Felix?” 

“He’s solid. I only talked to him for a couple of minutes, but he seems pretty sold on Charlie.” 

“He did. They were holding hands under the table at dinner, isn’t that sweet?” 

“How’d you notice that?” 

“Dropped my napkin on the floor.” 

“Intentionally?” 

“Who can say?" Stede winked. He was such a terrible winker, it was embarrassing.  " But I’m concerned that it might cause a more permanent rift between Alma and Charlie. They were never particularly close, but it’d be a shame to lose each other entirely.” 

“So tell Alma that.” 

“You think?” 

“Sure,” Lucius took another sip of water and set it down. “She’s not a kid anymore. If she wants to have a relationship with her brother, then she’s got to put in the work, same as any of us.” 

“Same as me, you mean.” A flicker of a smile returned to Stede’s lips. 

“Yeah, well. If the shoe fits one Bonnet foot.” 

Stede nodded, his brow furrowed. “I’ll work on it.” 

“Can I get you something to eat?” The waiter drifted back. They placed their orders and when the waiter left, the subject changed entirely. 

It was only when they had at long last finished their meal and were just waiting for them to return with Stede’s credit card, that he said, 

“I’m very lucky. It’s not many men who have friends that will watch out for their children,” he offered Lucius a smile which he returned. “Thank you, Lucius.” 

“I’d say it’s my pleasure, but honestly it’s fucking work. You’re son is just like you and you are a so much work, Stede.” 

“I know,” he laughed. “And yet, here you still are.” 

“You’re paying for lunch. It’d be rude to leave.” 

“Why are you allergic to sincerity?” 

“Genetics.”

[misscarolineshelby]

Roommates – Part Sixteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words:1,876

Warning: Fluff, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

A week had passed since you told Cillian that you loved him and, whilst you were strongly under the influence of pain medication, you remembered it.

You had, in fact, developed strong feelings for him and whilst the words left your lips accidentally when you were drowsy and half asleep, you were somewhat disappointed by the fact that he didn’t say anything.

Of course, he didn’t share the same feelings for you, you knew that much. You’ve been friends for so many years that you could hardly be surprised that he liked you as a friend and for sex, but nothing else. But, what you had expected was that he would say something, anything at all, even if it was simply confirming what you already knew.

***

You did tell your sister about it and, whilst you were surprised by the feelings you had so suddenly developed for your long-time friend, she wasn’t surprised at all.

She saw it coming as soon as she found out that you were sleeping with each other and she believed that you always had some sort of feelings for him.

In the same vein, she was sure that he felt the same about you and was probably reluctant to tell you and, with that in mind, you continued on as usual and acted as if nothing had happened.

You weren’t willing to give up your friendship and the amazing sex you have for maybes and thought that, if your sister was right, he would come around eventually, at least so you hoped.

***

Then, another week had passed and nothing had changed. At least so you thought.

Cillian asked you whether you wanted to travel to Cork with him to see his parents now that Ireland, once again, came out of lockdown and visits to family were permitted provided that you had a permit.

‘I don’t think I can Cillian. Only spouses’ you said, pointing to the pamphlet he had printed out from the Irish Covid Information website.

‘Well, we are living together, you can pretend to be my girlfriend if the police pulls us over’ he chuckled, before pleading with you.

‘You just want me to drive, don’t you’ you then said and he nodded. He hated driving long distances and it didn’t help that he had only gotten his drivers licence five years ago and failed his driving test three times when he moved back to Dublin.

‘I suppose it’s safer if I drive…so yes, I am coming’ you said somewhat amused.

‘Should I ask Ma to prepare two or one room for us?’ Cillian then asked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your mother is strictly catholic and I suppose that the answer to your question depends on what you are willing to reveal to her about our little arrangement’ you joked and, of course, Cillian hadn’t even thought that far.

‘Two bedrooms’ he then confirmed before picking up the phone to let his mother know that you would be coming with him.

***

Three days later, you hit the road for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Cork after you both had received a negative COVID test result which you took as a precaution.

As usual, Cillian’s mother was excited about the visit and you were excited too. You hadn’t seen her for about 18 months and the last time you saw her she had cooked you and your fiancé a lovely a meal.

Things were different then and you talked about your wedding and all the plans you were having in the future.

There was no pandemic to worry about and you weren’t aware of your fiancé’s indiscretions at the time while Cillian was still happily dating your somewhat crazy friend.

Now, your engagement had ended but your friendship with Cillian had evolved into something else entirely.

***

After a smooth three-and-a-half-hour drive, you pulled up in front of Cillian’s parents’ house.

They both greeted you with excitement and told you to come in quickly as it was raining.

Cillian’s father quickly carried your small suitcase to one of the guestrooms while Cillian placed his into the other. There wasn’t much space in the house and, whilst the house had four bedrooms, the corridors were rather narrow and the living area was small.

‘It’s so good to see you Y/N’ Cillian’s mum said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘The last time you visited Cork was under better circumstances, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless’ she then said and you thanked her for her hospitality.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother and Cillian was simply happy to see his parents again after such a long time, even if it meant that his siblings couldn’t visit them at the same time as him due to the visitation limits imposed.

As you were sitting on the sofa with Cillian’s mother you soon noticed that Cillian was gone and so did his mother.

‘He better not be stealing food’ she then huffed out sternly and, sure enough, Cillian had found the freshly baked scones in the kitchen and couldn’t resist.

‘But they are so good Ma’ you heard him argue as his mum told him to get out of the kitchen and leave the scones alone, which made you laugh.

‘He will never change’ you chuckled and his mother nodded in agreement.

‘No, he won’t’ she then said before informing you that she had made a roast for dinner.

***

After dinner and a few glasses of wine with Cillian’s parents, they headed to bed at around 8.30pm as usual, leaving you and Cillian to watch TV in the living room.

You were quick to spread your legs out over Cillian’s laps, getting yourself more comfortable but being vary that his parents might walk in on you.

But, Cillian seemed to think that, once they went to bed, they would pretty much go to sleep right away and proceeded to pull you onto his lap.

‘I missed this today’ he said before he caressed your face and kissed you gently.

‘Me too’ you then giggled before returning the kiss rather quickly.

‘Do you want to go to my bedroom or yours?’ he then winked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your parents are in the house Cillian’ you then said and, just as you did, you heard some footsteps in the hallway behind you.

You quickly jumped off Cillian’s lap and sat on the lounge like a well-behaved schoolgirl as his mother walked by to get a glass of water while Cillian covered up his erection, poking against the denim of his jeans, with a cushion.

‘Night Ma’ he then said and she couldn’t help but laugh before saying ‘good night’ again.

‘I am not going to have sex at your parents house’ you then huffed out quietly when his mother had left.

‘Alright, let’s go for drive then’ he suggested.

‘A drive? And how will you explain this to your mother tomorrow?’ you laughed and Cillian suggested to tell her that you forgot some toiletries and he drove to the shop to get them.

‘Supermarket closes in 30 minutes, let’s go’ he said and you couldn’t really say no to him.

***

Ten minutes later you arrived at a secluded area near the beach and you could just tell that Cillian had been there before.

‘Is this where you used to take your girlfriends when you were at high school and snatched your parents’ combi even though you didn’t have a driver’s licence?’ you asked, having heard about these stories from his brother before.

‘Yeah, it’s a good spot, nice and quiet’ Cillian winked as he reclined his seat and you quickly stripped down to your bra and panties.

‘Oh my god Cillian I feel like an 18-year-old again, sneaking out of the house to make out’ you laughed and, just before you could protest, Cillian reached inside your panties and slowly stroked your mound.

‘Just that, this time, it will actually be worth your while’ Cillian smirked as he ran his forefinger between the crease of your pussy and noticed the moistness which had already built there.

‘Hmm yes, it will be Cillian’ you moaned as he was rubbing your clit with his left hand and with his right hand was caressing your breasts.

You were quick to release his hard cock from his jeans as well and began jerking him in time with his clitoral stimulation and the heat inside the car was palpable.

‘So naughty…what if we get caught?’ you huffed out, knowing that Cillian had a kink for semi-public sex.

‘It’s worth the risk’ he groaned and, before long, you were gazing up from the seat with that wanton look in your eyes, pulling Cillian closer and uttering cues while he fingered your pussy and mouthed your firm nipples with his welcoming mouth.

‘I need you inside me Cillian’ you moaned as you were welcoming two fingers into your waiting slit and could not be distracted, even by the crackling sounds outside and the sound of the radio.

‘Come on then’ Cillian groaned as you continued to stroke him and, just as he invited you to take what you needed so badly, you let go off his cock and climbed on top of him.

He pressed the head of his cock against your awaiting pussy and you slowly sank down on him.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as his cock disappeared into your tight vagina, expanding your love tunnel while he met your lips with his. Your mouths parted and your tongues communicated the instant of union as Cillian’s cock drove slowly into your warm pussy. You were lost in their unity while your reality transformed around them.

‘You feel so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as you were moving in perfect motion with Cillian’s penetration and your thighs were even perforated with the moisture that was coming out of your pussy.

Your rocking continued and you were now joining orally with diatribes as Cillian’s cock bottomed out again and again inside you. ‘Fuck’ you uttered as his big balls pressed against your bottom.

Your warm tunnel was wide for his cock and your eyes were fixed on the mechanistic ramming of Cillian’s body in its hedonistic role.

‘I am cumming…fuck’ you moaned with the ever fastening in and out rhythms that Cillian was delivering to your womanhood. Cillian too was groaning and you put a hand underneath his balls while he pounded you and the car shook.

With your screams and loss of control inside erotic orgasm, Cillian too lost control and filled your cavity with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, I love…’ Cillian began to say but, just as he did, there was a nock on the window of the car on the driver’s side next to Cillian, interrupting what he was about to say.

‘Please lower your window…’ a man said from outside and you could see some flashing lights behind where the car was parked.

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