#but that would wreck me so bad I don’t feel like digging out of that hole while work is busy coming up

[goldkirk]

CONTENT WARNING for weight loss (a percentage number) and mentions of throwing up

In other news I'm waiting impatiently for a GI appointment to tell them "hi I lost 15% of my body weight in six months and I throw up more often than once or twice a year now so can you please fucking listen and do something this time"

[jarofstyles]

Pleaaaaase do a little size kink blurb where he teases her about not being able to take it all miss jars

Ok because you asked so nicely 😚

Warnings- size kink, slight degrading, soft dom h, pet names, teasing etch

Patreon

——

“I dunno, pet.” His hand stroked over her side as she laid spread out for him, resting his cock over her tummy. “It’s a bit too big for you, don’t you think?” Rocking against her, she whimpered as her eyes went down to see the ruddy head of his cock leaking slightly over her skin, hard and obviously aching.

“I can take it- I can do it, I promise.” Her pleads were slightly pathetic but he knew what he was doing. Harry knew what it did to her when he spoke to her like this.

Harry was big, one of the biggest and thickest she had ever taken. It did take her a bit to adjust but she could do it. He caught on relatively quickly though, just how much she loved it when he teased her about it. Taunted her, made her squirm. He was so sweet in his words but the sparkle of slight evil behind his eyes let on that he enjoyed making her whine and whimper for it, wanting to make her beg.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He clicked his tongue, fisting his cock as he dragged it back down and tapped the tip against her clit. Hips jolted as she let out a keen, hands fisting the sheets as she watched his intent eyes look at their joining. She was drippy and wet, embarrassingly so as she felt it down to her ass, but Harry had been teasing her for a while now. “Such a tiny cunt. As much as I’d love t’stretch your holes out, I love you a bit too much… I don’t want my girl hurting.”

“It hurts now, I’m empty!” Stomping her foot on the mattress, the needy girl felt herself huff, eyes tearing up as she felt frustration boil over. “I need it, I need it inside of me now. Please don’t make me wait. I don’t care if it hurts, it’ll feel good.”

He cooed, bless him, smearing his cock through her folds as she threw her little tantrum. Getting her to this point was always fun in his eyes. “Y’need it that bad, sweet thing? Poor little angel baby is crying for cock.” His lips pursed in a pout, his free hand wiping away a tear. “Proper tantrum because your cock hungry little hole feels empty. Should’ve known, though. You like it when it hurts.”

“I do, I just need it. Please, give me it. I’ve been good, haven’t it? I’ve been so good and you’re being so mean.” Her babbled cries made him grin, letting her buck her hips up and rub herself against him, smearing her arousal all over his cock. Getting her brainless like this was his favorite thing to do.

“Okay, darling. Okay. I know you’re greedy. Cunt’s gone all sloppy and wet. Nasty little thing y’are.” He crooned, notching the tip over her entrance. “Let’s try just the tip first. I’ll give you a taste, and if you’re good and your hole can take it, maybe I’ll give you a few inches.” His hips slowly pressed in, letting the bulbous tip breach her. Popping in and making her breathing quicken, more tears falling down her cheeks. Sure, it hurt a little. It usually would with him- but it was what she needed.

“Thank you, thank you, I need it.” She rambled, hand lifting to his arm and nails digging into the skin as her stomach jumped with each breath.

“I know you do. My sweet little angel of a girl, I always forget how greedy you are for my prick until it’s in you.” Soothing strokes were given to her cheeks, the guise that he didn’t love making her a wreck playing well on his face. “Let it stretch you for a little bit, pet. Sit pretty and let yourself drip all over it before I ruin you even more.”

[hyewka]

i just neeeed a switchy-sub leaning, desperate vampire!gyu whos been begging for you to let him taste your blood, and you finally let him midst riding him; he keeps saying how good he’ll make you feel before he finally sinks in and the sensation makes you lowkey lose control over your own body, leaning onto him while he fucks into you from underneath, hands all over you, grasping at anything he can; he could just lose it right there from the way you moan into his ear, yet the only thing on his mind is how he needs to please you; pretty boy would never forgive himself if your sweet moans were to stop coming, the need to feel you cum on his cock like that way more important than his own high 😪

★ warnings. vampire!gyu, creampie, blood, mentions of blacking out, big cock gyu ^__^

★ note. keep this supernatural shit coming its so fun to write. this is also unfortunately more dom i think than sub like you asked but theyre desperate all the same

“please,” he whimpers, hands gripping the plush of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin so hard it hurts. “please, just let me tase you, just a little. you smell so fucking good, feels like i'm gonna die.”

beomgyu’s been a fucking wreck for what feels like forever. the way he looks at you, his dark eyes filled with need, his lips parting just slightly whenever your neck is exposed—it’s been driving you both crazy. you can feel how much he needs it—how much he needs you. and tonight, you’re finally giving in, finally letting him have what he’s been pleading for.

he’s under you, his fat cock stretching you painfully, buried balls deep inside. but even that isn’t enough for him. how greedy. you bounce just slightly, his breath catching in a sharp gasp. “i don’t know… what if you can’t control yourself? what if you just keep going and never stop?” you tease, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.

“no, no i’ll be good,” he promises, too earnestly, too fast. “i’ll make you feel so good, love, i swear.”

you sigh, as if you’re giving in reluctantly. the truth is obviously far, far from the front you're putting up. “you'll make sure i feel good?”

his grip on your thighs tightens immediately, his breath hitching as he nods frantically. “so good. please, please just let me taste you. need it so bad. it won't hurt.”

he's trying to be convincing, but it's not working—not when his fangs finally come out, gleaming and looking too sharp, too dangerous.

there’s a flicker of something predatory in his eyes, something that tells you he’s been holding back for far too long, and it’s taking every ounce of control he has left. but even that’s slipping away, fast.

truth be told, you’re terrified. and you hesitate, diverting your eyes off what's having you feel so antsy. with a shaky breath, you reach up, sweeping your hair to the side, exposing your neck to him.

for a moment, he doesn’t move, just stares, his pupils dilating, nearly overtaking his eyes, turning them pure black. you feel your breathing constrict as you finally speak, tilting your head. "feed."

then, as if a dam has broken, he surges forward, a low, guttural growl escaping his throat. his hands shoot up to grip your waist, fingers digging in as his lips crash against your skin, almost frantic in his need.

his fangs scrape against your skin, and he doesn’t even give you a chance to adjust before he’s sinking them in deep, too deep, too fast—breaking the skin, a warm wave of blood flowing into his mouth. the pain is searing, white-hot, and your eyes fly open as a cry tears from your throat. “shit, gyu—fuck, you’re gonna—”

for a split second, it’s almost too much. but then, just as quickly, it’s swallowed by a wave of pleasure so intense it slams into you, making your whole body jolt, your breath catching in your throat. you choke out a moan, your hands shooting up to his hair, fingers tangling in it as your body shudders violently against his.

“you taste so fuckin' sweet,” beomgyu groans against your neck, his voice ragged, barely holding it together. he’s thrusting up into you, hips moving frantically, like he can’t control it, can’t control himself. “i could die like this, fuck, you’re everything, baby, i need more—”

and he's back on. it’s beyond overwhelming—the way he’s drawing blood, the way he’s feeding from you like he’s starved for it, each desperate gulp making your head spin, your vision blurring at the edges. you can feel yourself getting lightheaded, dizzy, as if every nerve in your body is on fire.

it doesn't help that his hands are everywhere. everywhere. they're rough, mindlessly roaming all over your body, completely losing it as he grabs at you, groping your ass, your hips, your soft curves, your breasts, squeezing, kneading, desperate to feel every part of you.

it’s driving you to the brink of insanity. he's never been this desperate.

“gyu, fuck—” you gasp, the words barely make it out before he slams into you again, his cock hitting your cervix with a brutal, desperate force. every thrust is erratic, wild, like he’s trying to break you in half, and it’s so deep, so fucking deep, you can’t even think straight.

“oh god, you’re gonna—fuck, you’re wrecking me—” you choke out, but it’s swallowed by a filthy moan as your nails digs down his scalp, not even phasing him one bit as he fucks you senseless.

your vision quickly starts to go dark, spots dancing in front of your eyes as the pleasure builds, overwhelming, all-consuming. you’re shaking, your body convulsing around him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you barely hold on.

even through the haze, you can see him. his eyes are wild, his lips stained crimson with your blood, and he’s licking at them desperately, like he can’t get enough. “so fuckin' addictive. perfect—god, you’re perfect, can’t stop—can’t ever stop” he’s slurring his words, panting, barely making sense.

your pussy clenches tight around his cock, the reaction pure instinct as your body takes over, letting your eyes roll back as he relentlessly slams up into you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin almost too obscene, wet and filthy.

“don’t want you to stop,” you finally manage to gasp out, hips grinding down against him, feeling him throbbing inside you, hot and hard. “fuck, gyu, d-don’t stop.”

something seems to snap inside him, because suddenly, he’s gone—completely unhinged. his lips crash against yours, his fingers gripping your chin as he deepens the kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, the metallic tang of your own blood overpowering your sense.

“never,” he breathes when he finally pulls away, animalistic as he yanks you down his entire length. “i’ll never stop, baby. i’ll never let you go. you’re mine."

something about the way he says that causes a shiver to run through your spine. “gyu—fuck, i’m so close,” you whimper, tears welling in your eyes as your head spins, blurring your thoughts. “god, beommie, i’m gonna cum—”

“do it,” he commands, so raw, desperate. “cum for me. i need to feel it—need to feel you squeeze my cock, need it so bad.”

and then it hits you. your orgasm crashes, your body locking up as you scream his name, nails raking down his back. the pleasure is so intense it borders on pain, your vision going white as everything inside you tightens, shudders, explodes.

but beomgyu isn’t done. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. it's as if he's driven by something primal, something feral, fucking you through it. “fuck, baby, yes—just like that, so fucking tight,” he grits out.

his eyes glaze over, and for a moment, he seems distant. but then you realize what’s caught his attention—his gaze's locked on the two fresh puncture marks on your neck, still oozing blood.

“look at you,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice low and rough. “you’re mine, marked by me. fuck, you’re so perfect, princess. so perfect.”

he leans in closer, and you shrivel up.

his lips hover just above the bite marks, as if he’s drawn to them, obsessed with the sight of your blood marking you as his. suddenly, you feel like you're really on the verge of passing out, your body slowly giving in to the fatigue that's overtaking your limbs, almost like you're floating, disconnecting from the world around you.

it's like he knows you're there, and no matter what, he won't let you fall into it. not yet. his tongue flicks out to taste your blood again, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of arousal. your body convulses, a strained moan ripping through your throat. "n-nghhh !"

with no warning, his hot seed shoots up into you with such force it feels like it might tear you apart. there’s too much—way too much—and it’s overflowing, pouring out of you, down your thighs. but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, lean body thrusting up into you as he cums, again and again, milking every last drop. “take it all, my princess, every drop,” he rasps, his hands still gripping your hips, pulling you down onto him as he empties himself inside you. "all of me."

[2-dsimp]

(period is talking im sorry) dear god. the way i need an absolutely filthy marathon with danny for like a week or two.... is danny cool w degrading his darling? does he fuck with a mean mating press? started crying thinking of danny with a darling dressed as if they were straight outta nekopara...

If Danny the boss has a million fans, then I'm one of them.

If Danny the boss has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE.

If Danny the boss has no fans, that means I'm dead.

(i think im now 🫙 anon. if thats cool)

---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---

Cw: NSFW MDNI FEM! Reader Dubcon, degradation, slight pet play, objectification, creampies, cosplay, overstimulation

---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---

“What the fuck… Did you spill soda on my goddamned limited edition figurine? On purpose?”

You jumped, at the words he seethed under his breath. You were wearing a cat maid outfit determined to seduce your shut in otaku. Which wasn’t all that hard to be honest, but you craved getting dicked down in the most degrading way possible.

Danny was always the sweetest, worshipping your body as if it were the holy grail. Loving on every part of you, it was endearing but at times you craved for his cruelty. Whenever he got that cold icy smolder in his sunken eyes, it always made you shiver from how sexy he looked when pissed off.

“Since you want to desecrate my prized figurine…How bout I take my time in getting payment from your body. Maid-chan? Since I doubt you’ve got the money to reimburse me.”

He hissed in a gravelly tone, snatching you up by the wrist to send you scrambling to grip the edges of his desk for support. The Hitman Boss’s expression was heated as he hunched over you. tired red-blue eyes trained on your every facial expression.

While he one handedly flipped up your skirt, a slender finger snapping at the waist band of your panties. Before digging his fingers greedily in the meat of your ass.

And soon enough your funishment began.

“Oi maid bitch-chan. I didn’t give you permission to stop wiping my figurine down, now did I?”

The Otaku drawled out, having you bent over his PC monitor making you put that be maid cosplay to use. By shakily wiping up the soda spillage with a rag while he humped your ass.

“Keep going until it’s spotless. You can at least do that much besides just being a sweet fuckhole for my stress relief yeah?.”

He had a firm grip on your tail which ensured the rocky slapping of his balls against your folds. As he grinded his pelvis viciously against your mound. To make every pump of his cock scrap crudely within your squelching cunt.

“Cmon don’t get quiet on me now! Meow for me, you’re a neko maid right? So you better act the damn part, you dumb whore”

Your hand eye coordination became extremely faulty from the tremors of the impact he left on your body. You pathetically mewed trying your best to live up to expectation but it came out as a garbled mess. And the Otaku wasn’t too happy about it as he trailed a hand down to your chest to squeeze those breasts like a stress ball.

“Fuuuck. You’ve got me so pissed off you know that? Do you think I wanna call you a useless slut every time your cute ass. Can’t focus on anything other than cumming on my dick?”

“You know how I love to praise you baby so why do you gotta make me the bad guy?”

After Danny creampied your pussy till it was dripping globs upon the wooden flooring underneath the desk. It was only then he had forgiven you for your transgressions. After you finally managed to undo the damage you’d done with the cleaning supplies he had prepared at the ready.

The Otaku did feel a little guilty about wrecking you, so he made sure to give you his anime themed snacks and sat you on his lap to stream some episodes of Windbreaker. He didn’t clean you up of course, he was still peeved. So he figured that you could carry his seed inside you. As a reminder to you, should you ever did that shit again.

.

.

。

A/n: if you wanna be degraded the best way would be to piss Danny off since it’d be awkward from the start if he’s of clear conscious. You’re his goddess after all and he’d want nothing more than to worship you like the wonder you are.

[honeybeedrabble]

Casanova (Cheating!Sasuke x AFAB!Reader pt. ii)

CW: Sasuke being a horrible husband/father/baby daddy (like actually he’s horrendous 😭). Throwing up (it’s a little gross, sorry), hand job, lip biting, dry humping, unprotected piv (please don’t be stupid), creampie (PLEASE DONT BE STUPID), breeder!sasuke, shoulder biting, degradation and slight praise, spitting, breast play, lmk what i missed !! (SPOILER WARNING!!!: pregnancy sex)

18+ MDNI

Sasuke went home that night a wreck. His feelings were entirely conflicted. Did he do the right thing? No- of course he did?! You were in need of help and only he could deliver. If anyone else were in his position they would’ve done the same thing. For crying out loud- you practically straddled him and barely left room for denial. Then again… Sasuke didn’t deny you the opportunity… But you were begging for it- needing it-

“Sasuke… is everything alright?” The sweet voice of his wife brought him out of his daze. He cleared his throat before taking a sip of water.

“Y-Yeah… long day…” He said softly, setting the glass back down on the table before picking up his fork and digging into the home cooked meal. The home cooked meal his wife made him. His wife Sakura.

“Do you want to talk about it-“

“No!” He raise his voice nervously. Sarada looked up from her own meal with wide eyes. She glanced from between her mother and her father, a brow raised in confusion.

“Um… Dad?” She asked.

“Y-Yes?”

“Is everything okay?” His daughter asked. He looked at her with a broken heart, the product of he and his wife’s love encapsulated in a single child, practically berating him for what he had done to their family. She knows… she has to…

“I um… Yeah… I’m fine. I’m sorry it’s just one of those days, you know? I think I’m just tired.” Sasuke shook his head, then abruptly stood up from the table.

“Going to bed already?” Sakura asked, getting out of her chair to collect his plate and bring it to the sink.

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve had a long day and tomorrow I write my mission report. Dinner was great, Sakura. Goodnight you two.” He said, walking over to the bedroom he and Sakura shared.

Upon returning home he promptly took a shower, scrubbing his whole body of the adultery he committed off, trying to erase the sin from his skin. To no avail- he still felt awful. He felt even worse staring at the bed he would share with his wife, how they slept next to eachother every night they were both home.

Sasuke wanted nothing more than to sleep on the couch- he would even sleep outside after doing what he did. But he knew it would raise suspicions, so he did what he usually would do and got into his pajamas, slipping into the soft bedding and closing his eyes to sleep.

Sasuke woke up to soft hands under his shirt, he recognized them.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled sleepily.

“Sorry, sometimes I do this to our pillows when you’re not home. Bad habit, I forgot you came back tonight.” Sakura smiled, nestling her neck into the crook of his neck.

“Don’t be sorry, we’re married.” Sasuke almost laughed.

“You’re right,” Sakura giggled, her hands trailing down his abdomen slowly. Sasuke inhaled deeply, feeling her hands break past his waistband and land at his crotch.

“What are you up to?”

“Well you said it yourself we’re married. It’s got me thinking about how intimate we used to be. How intimate we should be again.” Sakura said, her hand wrapping around his shaft. Sasukes breath hitched, his hand coming up to caress the arm Sakura had draped around him.

Sakura gently gripped Sasukes shaft, moving up and down his member, a finger tracing along the head of his cock. She bit her lip, her finger pressing into his tip to try to gather any precum he had. Sasuke felt his face grow hot, still guilty about the affair from earlier that day.

“Um… is everything okay?” Sakura asked, her hand stilling around his dick.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’re still… y’know….”

“Still…?”

“Soft.”

Sasukes heart sunk. He didn’t even realize it until now. He shifted under the blankets, backing up into Sakura further.

“Here, try now.”

“Okay,” Sakura hummed, gently kissing his neck. The kisses helped, precum starting to flow out from his cock and he was about half mast a few minutes into the handjob.

But Sasuke couldn’t help it, even though he was comfortable in bed, had his wife next to him and everything he would need to get off, he couldn’t. Not when all he was thinking about was how you mounted and rode him for what felt like hours that afternoon.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sakura purred, licking a stripe up his neck.

“Yeah…” Sasuke lied. After a few more pumps he couldn’t take it anymore and with the hand he had on her arm, he gently pushed Sakuras hand off of him.

“Sasuke…?”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just tired. Let’s save this for tomorrow, please?” He asked, still not turning around to face her.

“Oh, yeah sure. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up.” Sakura said softly.

“It’s fine. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…”

____________________________________________

Sasuke woke up early that morning, he needed to get out of the house desperately. The only way he could get his mind off of you was with work. But said work was writing the mission report on the genjutsu user from just outside the village. The same genjutsu user who held you prisoner to your own urges, eventually holding Sasuke a prisoner of his own as well.

He put his pen down, unable to shake you from his brain. He left the office and took of to your house, not caring how early it was to wake you- he just needed to see you that desperately.

When Sasuke knocked at your door you opened it wiping your eyes. Your skin seemed paler than usual, your body fatigued. He felt bad, assuming he had done a number on you.

“May I come in?” Sasuke asked, looking around nervously.

“What are you? Some kind of vampire?” You asked with folded arms. “Yes you can come inside.” You shut the door behind him as he walked inside.

“Sorry to come by unannounced like this, especially this early…” Sasuke apologized. You shrugged.

“It’s fine, besides… I’ve been up for a few hours already…” You murmured softly, shifting nervously.

“Oh, well I guess it’s good timing then.”

“Maybe for you…” you said.

“Listen I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well so do I.” You seemed distant, slightly uncomfortable around Sasuke. He picked up on it quite quickly.

“It’s a good thing we’re on the same page then. About the mission report-“

“I’m pregnant.”

Sasuke paused. He felt adrenaline pumping through him, tensing up every muscle in his body. He could hear your words echo through his mind, over and over again. He couldn’t move.

“I…I’m sorry?” He asked, face as white a ghost, his eyes desperately searching yours to see if you were lying.

“I’m pregnant.” You said again, voice shaking.

Sasuke felt his legs give out, he fell to the ground, his ass hitting your wooden floor heavily as his stomach churned. He dry heaved, already sweating bullets. He ran to your bathroom and vomited profusely into the ceramic pot, his vision dizzy.

“That’s how I found out.” You said, leaning in the doorway. Sasuke flushed, turning on your sink and washed his mouth out, splashing his face with the cold water.

“But you haven’t taken a test yet?”

“No, but it seems pretty obvious to me that I am.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked defensively, anxiety making him shudder.

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it. I can just go and get the procedure to get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it? Of an Uchiha baby?” Sasuke asked, heart racing.

“Calm down. If you wanted another Uchiha baby maybe you should’ve asked your wife to give you another one.” You snapped, walking away from him.

“You don’t get it, my clan is dead. It needs to be restored!”

“Sasuke for the love of everything, why don’t you fuck off? If your wife finds out about this she’ll kill me. Like… actually kill me. I don’t even know what she’ll do to you.”

Sasuke took a deep breath then let it out, holding your wrist and bringing you to your couch so you could both sit down.

“What happened between us was for the worst. It shouldn’t have happened and we both know that. But what if we just say that the baby isn’t mine? There’s no guarantee they’ll unlock their sharingan.”

“Sounds great! As a matter of fact, I’m confident I can raise your child as a single parent while you run off to your own little family and forget the two of us exist!” You sarcastically exclaimed, eyes burning into sasukes.

“Well what do you want?” He asked, standing up abruptly, raising his voice.

“No Sasuke, what the fuck do you want?!” You yelled, matching his volume and standing up with him.

“I want to pick you up and fuck you right on your kitchen table.” He growled, towering over you. Your eyes widened, the fists you didn’t even know you were clenching suddenly became less tense as you two stared deeply into each others eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, then quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and dove in for a kiss. You both were winded on impact, but met each other half way and soon enough tongues were being reintroduced to each other. He tasted like black coffee, and for some reason it turned you on. Knowing that as soon as he woke up and had his morning coffee he was on his way to see you. It was so fucked up, but you couldn’t deny the way it made you feel.

“You’re such a piece of shit…” You murmured against his hungry lips. He let out a soft “mmm” in agreement, unable to break the spell he was in.

His arm grabbed under your knee and pulled it up onto his hip. You wrapped your leg around him and as soon as your sexes met there was an audible sigh shared between the both of you.

“On my kitchen table you say?” You whispered, lips softly pressing against his.

“I’ll fuck you on your porch if you’d let me,” Sasuke moaned, your cunt gently humping against the growing erection in his pants. His hand left your knee and instead attacked your ass cheek with a rough smack. You let out a playful yelp, smiling at him before biting his lower lip, then licking it softly. You let it go and watched as it snapped back.

“I don’t doubt that for a second, Casanova.” You went down to kiss his neck, running your tongue along his adams apple while your hands went down to undo his black cape.

It fell to the ground with a plop, Sasuke had no interjections. Next, you unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and arm. You touched his warm skin, feeling how toned his chest was. You licked his clavicle and he gently sighed, patting your ass so you could wrap your legs around his hips, you quickly obeyed.

He lifted you up and moved you to your kitchen table, practically tearing your soft pajama tank top off and revealing your soft tits underneath. His mouth watered as his eyes locked onto your hardened nipple, he quickly moved to suck one into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it.

You let out a moan that sounded like it had been ripped from your throat, your hands tangling in his jet black locks. He stuck his hand down your pajama shorts and yanked them off along with your panties. You kicked them off when they had reached your ankles and thrusted your hips up against the hard member that was just behind his pants.

You mewled, begging him to release himself from his pants, your leg wrapping around him again and licked along his jaw.

“Fuck… you want it bad, don’t you?” He asked low in your ear. You nodded, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes. He sighed then roughly grabbed your jaw in his one hand, squeezing your cheeks until your mouth became a small pout.

“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.” He ordered, slowly unbuttoning his pants as he held eye contact with your pathetic face.

“I want you to fuck me Sasuke! Please fuck me! I need you so bad, needed you ever since I got to have you yesterday.” You pleaded. He smirked, letting his pants and boxers fall to his ankles before stepping out of them. He retracted his hand from your face and began to stroke at his cock.

“Good girl.” He praised, ramming his cock into you roughly, bottoming out before you could warm up to his size.

You let out a loud moan, legs wrapping around him tightly, the heel of your foot digging into his ass cheek, pushing his hips further into you. You clenched down tightly on his shaft, almost choking on your own spit as you whimpered underneath him. Sasuke grunted, grinding into your walls as his public bone chafed against your clit. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a deep kiss, desperate for more of him. He quickly kissed you back, his mouth opening and demanding your tongue inside his mouth again.

He retracted his cock before slamming it back inside of you, too impatient to let you adjust to his size. You didn’t care, the pleasure mixed the pain that came with burning stretch of his girthy member, parting you from the inside and brushing up against your g spot had you begging for more. The feeling of his cock jack hammering inside you had you moaning so loud and so often you couldn’t kiss him back, throwing your head back in ecstasy to moan freely in your kitchen.

Sasuke couldn’t let you tear away any kisses from him and as he pounded away inside of you, rearranging your wet cunt, he tried kissing you again- landing on the corner of your mouth before licking your cheek sloppily. You ran your nails up his back, leaving behind long, thin red line along his muscular back. He grunted loud and painfully, ducking his head down to harshly bite down on your shoulder. You whimpered, clenching down on him and holding his head at your neck.

“Fucking whore…” He grunted, kissing your clavicle.

“M-Me? Y-You’re the one w-who came to my house f-for sex…” you managed to get out. Sasuke slapped the side of your ass and you let out another yelp, clenching around him yet again and dripping down your thighs.

“Don’t talk back to me.” He snapped, grabbing your face harshly, squishing your cheeks again to keep you silent. You whimpered loudly as his pace became even more unapologetically rough, loud squelching filling the room along with a sigh from him with each snap of his hips.

A tear rolled down both your cheek and your leg, Sasukes manhandling become too much for you to bear.

“If you’re not pregnant already you will be by the time i’m done with you.” He huffed, his muscular chest heaving up and down with each heavy breath he took. Your eyes widened, pussy getting even wetter at his words. Sasuke smirked, eyes narrowing.

“You want that? You want me to fuck a baby into you? Ngh- as if I haven’t already…” Your eyes rolled back, nodding your head vigorously as your orgasm quickly approached.

“Say it then. Beg me to get you pregnant, beg me to let you carry my child.” He grabbed one of your bouncing tits and spat on your nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“P-Please Sasuke… Please let me carry your child… please cum inside me again…” You cried, legs shaking around the man’s waist.

“So fucking wet…” Sasuke moaned, his pace becoming sloppier and more desperate. He kissed you roughly and soon enough your insides were twisting in the most euphoric way possible, your toes curling as your core tightened and legs shook violently against him.

“Mph- Saaa…Sas- Mmm- Sasuke…” You moaned between kisses, your wet pussy squirting on his chiseled abs, your tight walls clamping down on his girth and strangling him for his cum. He moaned against your own moaning lips, shooting his seed deep inside your silky walls, painting you white from the inside.

You two breathed against eachother, still heavy in climax, your mind racing as you cursed yourself for letting him cum inside you again. Maybe if you’re lucky you could still take the morning after pill??

Sasuke stood up, slowly pulling out of your soaked walls.

“haah… aaahhhh…” he lightly moaned, fully retracting as he watching his hot cum pour out of you, too tired to finger fuck it back inside you.

“W-We’re so fucked…” you sighed, legs still twitching. Sasuke let out a loud sigh, bending down to slip back into his pants, pulling them up.

“I know.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you lay helpless on the table. “Listen, we’ll think of something together, okay?”

“I really hate you,” you murmured, feeling his hand run up and down your thigh reassuringly.

“I know.”

AN: please under no circumstances think i am anti sakura or a sakura hate account 😭😭 this is just a fic and more importantly it is an AU. that is all, enjoy <3

Tag List: @just-your-sensei

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part fifteen

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, drug abuse and addiction, loss of a parent, mentions of cheating, past trauma, angst, fluff

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!Fem!reader

Summary: Your Christmas ends up being better than you thought it would.

Word count: 12k+

Author's note: Big thank you to my besties, @littledemondani @mysticmunson & @corrodedcorpses you always help me so much with your amazing ideas, thank you&lt;3

Series masterlist

-

Before Eddie, you have never cried as much as you did in the past few weeks, in fact, you don’t remember when you cried the last time before you met him. You always considered yourself emotionally stable and strong, maybe it was wishful thinking or maybe it was the actual truth, maybe the emotional stability only lasted for a while or maybe it was never there and you just pretended that you were something that you were not. 

You tried to stay strong for yourself. You tried to keep the tears from falling but you couldn’t. 

So much has happened. Every time you thought that it couldn’t get worse, it got so much worse. 

The moment you laid your eyes on that article, you knew your peace was over. The life you knew was over. Everyone knows what happened to your dad and now everyone thinks that you are just the same. 

A wreck. 

A drug addict, an alcoholic, a careless girl who ends up tangled in the sheets with just about anyone. 

Whoever said those horrible things about you? 

“It’s alright, darling,” Wayne says as he rubs your back, letting you cry in his arms, “let it all out, I’m here.” 

You sniffle, trying not to sob, it’s humiliating enough to be seen like this, you hate crying in front of other people. 

You hear the passing cars, the bell over the door in the gas station, the whirring sound of the vending machine next to the telephone booth and Wayne’s soothing voice.

His embrace is just as comforting as Eddie’s, he hugs you in a similar way he does. His arms are wrapped around you protectively and he holds you for as long as you need him to. 

Your tears keep falling as you cry. 

As though the pain of losing your dad was not bad enough, you have been hit by more and more. Now you begin to understand what he had felt like.

Your shoulders are shaking and your tears are staining his jacket, if he notices, he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Once your sniffles quiet down and your tears fall less, you slowly pull away from his embrace. Wiping your tears, you look down at the black stains on your hand. You must look like a racoon right now. 

Your bottom lip is quivering, though you are not sure whether it’s from the cold or the sob that tries to crawl up inside of you. You blink, trying to keep the tears away that are burning in the back of your eyes. You raise your head slowly, looking at his jacket that is stained with tears and mascara stains. 

“I-I’m sorry, I ruined your jacket,” you mumble. 

Wayne places his hand on your shoulder, eying you with concern in his eyes. 

“It’s not ruined, it’s alright,” he says with a sad smile, “do you want to talk about what happened?” He asks, “you don’t have to but I’m here if you need someone to listen,” he adds. 

You feel guilty and bad. Not wanting to be a burden, you go to shake your head but instead you look down at the magazine. Your chest feels burdened by pain. 

Wayne follows your gaze, he looks down at the magazine. You hand it over to him, he glances at you one more time before he takes it from your hand. His brows are furrowed as he looks down, it takes him a moment to comprehend the words on the article before his eyes widen and a shocked look takes over his face. 

You dig your nails into your palms and cross your arms over your chest, looking away, you bite your lip as you feel yourself shivering. The cold wind bites your skin harshly and by the look of the darkened sky, you can tell that the weather is about to get worse. 

“Jesus christ,” Wayne mumbles. 

“I-It’s uh… it’s the truth,” you say, no longer feeling the need to lie, “what they say about him.” 

He looks at you with sorrow and sadness in his eyes. There is pain behind your eyes, he had seen it the first time he met you but there is so much more than that now, there is heartbreak and fear. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says, not knowing how to comfort you. Wayne was never very talkative, he cannot comfort you with words but by the look on your face, he can tell that your mind is somewhere else anyways, you don’t need words, you need to feel comfort. 

This day is horrible enough for you already but it had gotten so much more awful. 

“I-I didn’t want anyone to know,” you whisper, “they weren’t supposed to remember him like this.” 

“Hey, people loved him, they still will,” he says softly. 

You try to give him a smile but you can only imagine how miserable it looks.

The wind picks up and the snowflakes hit your cold skin harshly. 

“I-I should go,” you mumble, feeling guilty for burdening him this way. 

“You think I’ll let you stay at the motel by yourself today?” 

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, no one should spend Christmas by themselves, least of all you, kid. Come on, you can stay with us, Eddie will be happy to see you.” 

You shake your head, digging your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I don’t want to intrude.” Eddie didn’t invite you, he doesn’t want you around. 

“Nonsense,” he sighs, waving his hand, “been meaning to ask if you want to spend Christmas with us, now come on.” 

You can’t say no to him, not when he insists for you to spend the day with them. Wayne leads you to his truck and as you settle in the passenger seat and take the magazine back, your tears begin to fall again when you look at the picture of your dad. 

Wayne doesn’t hesitate to hand you the clean napkins that he grabbed too many of when he and Eddie got burgers this week before his shift. You thank him as you reach for one, wiping away the tears. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” He asks in confusion. 

“I’m a mess.” 

He chuckles sadly, the look in his eyes is one of empathy. He pats your back, “aren’t we all a bit of a mess?” 

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you nod in agreement. 

“Can you stop by the motel?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, “I got something for Eddie.” 

“Of course.” 

-

“Henry Creel?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Dude, that guy is like.. scary,” Gareth mumbles. 

“Yeah well, according to her, Henry is the nicest guy ever,” Eddie mumbles in annoyance as he leans back on the soft couch in Gareth’s basement, the one they have started practicing in before they moved it to the garage when Corroded Coffin became more serious. 

“She has an interesting taste in men,” Gareth says, “first we got you, a nerdy rockstar, then we got Steve, the rich, handsome babysitter and then we got Creel, scary, creepy Creel.” 

“He is not her type, dude!” Eddie says as he straightens up, rolling his eyes at his friend, “they were just talking.” 

The thought of you flirting with another man, being into someone other than him and well, Steve, makes him feel more jealous than before. 

“Yeah, I have no doubt that they were flirting, that guy might be a creep but I heard that he is very charming with the ladies.” 

Eddie scrunches his face up, “what?” 

“Do you remember Rose?” 

“The girl you had a crush on?” 

“Yeah–”

“The one you threw up on, at your graduation party?” 

Gareth rolls his eyes but he snorts, “yeah, that one.” 

Eddie barks out a laugh, burying his face in his hand as he thinks back to that night. 

“You threw up all over her ugly shoes–”

“Dude, shut up! I’m trying to tell you a story,” he exclaims as he throws one of the pillows at him. Eddie dodges it, laughing. 

“Alright, alright, keep going.” 

Gareth nods, “Rose has a sister named Daisy–” 

“Rose has a sister named Daisy? Who calls both of their kids after flowers?” Eddie asks in confusion. 

Gareth glares at him for interrupting him yet again. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, shutting his mouth, he leans back again, “continue.” 

“Thanks,” Gareth sighs, shaking his head, “well, Daisy and Henry had a fling, apparently he’s super charming and sweet, but that’s probably an act,” he shrugs, “oh and she said she has a big dick.” 

Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “so he charms the ladies with his big dick?” 

“Yeah, kinda like Harrington. Only he is a princess compared to Creel, that guy is still a creep.”

Eddie snorts at that.

“Well, he didn’t charm my girl,” Eddie mumbles. 

“Oh, your girl?” Gareth nods with a teasing look in his eyes. 

“Yeah.” 

You are his girl, no matter what. 

When he found you with Henry last night, he felt sick with worry, especially when he saw the state you were in. No matter how much alcohol you have had before, he had never seen you like that. Your pupils were widened and you looked like a mess, your dizziness only added to his worry. 

For a moment he feared that he had put something in your drink but you sobered up a little when he brought you back to the motel.

Gareth opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted when the door is slammed open and someone rushes down the stairs, both men straighten up when they meet Jeff’s shocked expression. 

“Have you seen this?” He asks in panic. 

Eddie gets up, a frown making it’s way on his face. 

“Wren called me, she was crying on the phone because she couldn’t reach her, I went to check up on her but she wasn’t there.” 

Eddie furrows his brows as he stares at his friend in confusion, “Jeff, w-what are you talking about?” 

Jeff says your name and hands Eddie the magazine that he was holding. 

“Y/n?” He mumbles as he feels an instant worry washing over him. Eddie looks down, his eyes fall on the cover of the magazine. His breath hitches in his throat and his brown eyes widen with shock. Immediately, he flips to the page, finding pictures of you and your parents on both sides. 

“What the..” His words get caught in his throat and a sick feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. 

An insider claiming, “She is destructive when she’s drunk or high, sleeping with whoever comes her way and snorting whatever comes up in her hands. It’s not surprising, given she’s the one who found her father dead on the ground with heroin in his arm, only time will tell if she breaks the curse.” 

“What the fuck,” Gareth mumbles as he comes up beside Eddie to read the article. 

Eddie feels like throwing up, his face is so pale, Jeff worries that he might just faint. 

“That’s bullshit!” Gareth mutters, “she doesn’t do that!” 

“Yeah well, an insider made all that shit up for whatever reason,” Jeff mumbles. 

Yeah, Eddie knows that you are not like that, that you don’t do any of those things but what about the part with your dad? What about him? Is that the truth? Is that why you reacted the way you did when Chrissy claimed that he uses drugs? Is that why you were so scared and worried? Because you feared to lose him the way you lost your dad? 

“Oh god,” Eddie whispers, holding his hand over his heart, he finds it racing. He is worried about you. 

“I gotta see her,” he says. 

Both Gareth and Jeff can see the fear in his eyes, the worry and the sickness on his face. 

“She’s not at the motel.” 

“M-Maybe she’s with Steve,” Eddie mumbles and for the first time, he actually hopes that you are with him. 

“Gareth! There’s someone on the phone for you!” His mother yells from upstairs. 

“Alright mom!” 

Eddie watches his friend picking up the receiver of the phone he always kept in the basement. He stares at him, watching him talk to whoever it is on the line, he only watches his lips move, no sound reaches him. 

Jeff steps closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, he asks him if he is okay. Eddie only nods, without registering his words. 

“Eddie,” Gareth calls for him, holding the receiver out to him, “it’s Sam, he wants to talk to you.” 

Nodding, he walks over to Gareth and grabs the receiver. Greeting the man with a shaky voice. 

“Please tell me that you know where she is. I’ve been trying to reach her phone at the motel all morning but she is not picking up.”

Eddie knows that Sam cares about you, taking on the father role of your dad after he had passed. His voice is filled with worry. 

“I-I don’t know where she is, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I saw her last night.” 

“Did you see the article?” 

“Yes, is it true?” Eddie asks anxiously, “the things they said about her dad?” 

“Yes.” Sam answers in his hesitation. 

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, closing his eyes, he puts his hand on his forehead. His heart breaks for you. You loved your dad, finding him like this must have been a nightmare, he can only imagine what you have felt like. 

“I have to find her–”

“Is she using again?” 

Eddie’s whole body tenses up, he opens his eyes, staring at his reflection in the small mirror on the wall, all color fades from his face, his heart drops to his stomach. 

Is she using again? 

Is she using again?

“W-What?” He manages to croak out. 

“Is she using drugs again?” 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks with his wavering voice. “S-She’s not, she’s not using anything, Sam. We’re together all the time, she barely even drinks. W-what do you mean again?” 

Sam hesitates, he sighs. Eddie knows that he won’t get any answers but once again, he is sick with worry. 

“Do me a favor, find her please and tell her to give me a call.” 

The line gone’s dead and Eddie continues to stare at himself in the mirror. Confused and shocked, he keeps holding the receiver even after Sam hung up the phone. He needs to find you. He needs to know what Sam meant by that. 

Slamming the receiver in it’s place, he picks up his jacket and puts it on hastily and reaches for the magazine again. 

“I’m gonna call you later,” he mumbles before he rushes up the stairs and out of the house, determined to find you. 

His heart is racing, it’s filled with fear. Eddie hasn’t felt this anxious in a long time and it only gets worse when he can’t find you anywhere. 

Everything begins to make sense when Eddie remembers how worried Sam was before you left for tour.

'Kid reminds me too much of her dad.'

Now he understands it, his worry. Your reactions whenever it came to the topic of drugs.

-

It feels weird to be back at the trailer, memories of the night with Eddie and Steve flood your mind but you quickly push the thoughts away, not wanting to think of that right now. 

You sit by the small table, a blanket around your shoulder to warm you up from the cold. Your hands are wrapped around the warm mug that Wayne handed you earlier. The radio is on, some Christmas song is playing. You look out the window, watching the snow fall harder than before. The dark clouds make everything appear like it’s early in the evening, a few lights around the trailer are on. 

Wayne made sure that you are alright, he showed you to the bathroom so you could freshen up after you cried off all the mascara. He offered to make you lunch but you settled for coffee, not feeling very hungry. The hangover was long forgotten, the magazine is what’s making you feel sick, right now. 

“Is this what a snowstorm looks like?” You ask, breaking the silence between you. 

Wayne looks up from the newspaper, glancing at you before he looks out the window, “no, you’ll see an actual snowstorm later. There was a blizzard warning, we’ll probably be snowed in till monday again, it happened last year too.” 

“I should probably go then,” you say, not wanting to intrude and stay here for longer than necessary. You don’t want to make him or Eddie uncomfortable. 

Wayne gives you a disapproving look, shaking his head. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll let you out there right now.”

“But–”

“You won’t have any food there and I’m pretty sure the heaters will stop working at that shitty motel.” 

“I’m not sure if Eddie wants me here,” you mumble. 

Wayne looks dumbstruck at your words, he takes his reading glasses off, placing them on the table, he leans back in his chair and stares at you, curiosity swimming in his eyes.

Before he can ask you the question he has been meaning to ask, the door is slammed open and a scared looking Eddie rushes in. His eyes are glassy, his brows are knitted together, his shaky voice calls out to his uncle. He closes the door behind him, having yet to notice you sitting there. 

You and Wayne turn to look at him, both staring at him with raised brows. 

“Wayne, I need to– she’s gone and I don’t know, I–” his words get caught in his throat and his eyes widen when he finally sees you. A mix of emotions takes hold of him. Relief, sadness and anger?  

He whispers your name, tears blurring his vision. 

You place the mug on the table, letting the blanket fall to the chair as you rise to your feet. An instant wave of comfort and calmness wash over you when you lock eyes with him. 

Eddie rushes towards you, not bothering to take his snowy boots or jacket off first. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around you and pull you into his arms. Almost all the tension disappears the moment he feels your warm body in his. He closes his eyes and hugs you tightly. 

Tears swim in your eyes the moment you feel yourself relaxing into his arms. 

You feel safe and protected. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m so so sorry.” 

He hears your quiet sniffle and his heart breaks. If he could take your pain, he would. 

“I’m here.” 

And that’s all that matters to you. Eddie. He is all that matters to you.

Wayne watches the two of you. A moment so bittersweet it makes his heart ache. Had this been a happy moment, he could smile but knowing how much pain you are both in, fills him with pain too. 

Eddie holds you for a moment, giving you the reassurance that you need, telling you that he is here for you, no matter what. 

“I need to talk to you,” he says. Kicking his shoes and jacket off, he leads you into his room, closing the door behind him, he almost forgets what he wanted to ask you in the first place when he sees you in his room for the first time. 

Your eyes are puffy, red rimmed and glassy. You look small and vulnerable. It hurts him to see you like this. He can tell that your mind is running wild and by the way you are looking at him with uncertainty and fear in your beautiful eyes, he already knows that you think you are not welcome here. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, your hands are shaky and you dig your nails into your waist as you look up at him like a child that is about to get scolded. Gone is the wild girl that he had gotten to know, the fearless and confident young woman that seemed unreachable. All he sees is a heartbroken girl that wanted nothing but to be loved. 

God, how could he ever hurt you? 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas. I’m gonna leave, you don’t–” 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. He steps in front of you, cupping your cheeks, he tucks your hair behind your ear, he caresses your cheek softly. 

“Shut up,” he whispers, “I spent the past two hours searching for you. What makes you think that I don’t want you here?” 

You shrug. 

“I want you here, I wanted you to spend Christmas with us, I wanted to ask you last night but you disappeared and then, well you know.” 

“You want me here?” You ask softly. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“You saw it?” You ask with a voice so small, it’s almost unrecognizable.

He nods. 

“I was looking for you everywhere, you had me worried sick, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

He went to Steve first, worrying him too when he found out about the magazine and you missing. He makes a mental note to give him a call later. He called Robin and then Nancy from the telephone booth at the gas station. He stopped by the hideout and at lovers lake, you were nowhere. For a moment he feared that you had gone to Henry Creel for something, he knows that he sells weed and other things. 

The last place he expected to find you was his trailer but he is so relieved. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers, “about your dad, about this whole thing.” 

Your bottom lip quivers and he can tell that you are trying not to cry. 

“I-It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not, it’s not okay. It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. I’m gonna kill the asshole that wrote this–”

“Eddie,” you sigh. 

“You gotta call Sam, he is worried about you.” 

Oh. 

Fear crosses your eyes and it makes his heart drop again. He knows why. 

“I-I’m not using drugs, Eddie,” you whisper, shaking your head, “I’m not doing what they said about me.”

“I know you’re not doing any of that.” 

You are not using drugs, you are not sleeping around, you are not destructive. He knows all of that. But he doesn’t know about your past, he wants to know but not yet, you are not in the right state of mind to answer the questions that have been running through his mind. 

He pulls you into his arms again, closing his eyes and breathing in your scent. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so worried about you.” 

It eases the pain a little and softens your heart. 

“I’ll be okay.” It’s a lie, you both know it. You are not prepared for what is about to come when you go back on tour next week but you try not to think about it now. 

“B-But what they said about him, it’s true.” 

The pain in your voice, the shakiness and the tears that continue to fall break his heart. You have been through too much. 

“I found him the way they said I did, I found him, Eddie.” 

He closes his eyes, he hugs you tighter. He can imagine how helpless and scared you must have felt that night. 

“I-It was too late, he was gone and I couldn’t.. I couldn’t help him.” 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers, blinking away his own tears. 

He can feel your body growing weaker as you cry harder, he pulls you along with him as he walks backwards, sitting down on his bed, he pulls you on his lap, you bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him hold you. 

“I’m always here for you, you know that right?” He whispers into your hair after a while. 

You nod against him. 

“No matter what, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, leaning your chin against his chest, you look up at him, admiring the way his curls are still so pretty, even after being out in this weather, “same goes for you.” 

He smiles and squeezes your arms. “I know, you’re an angel,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, he caresses your cheek, “let me take care of you, please.” It’s all he wants, all he ever wanted. He wants to be there for you, he wants to be the one who gets to hold you, who gets to take care of you. 

His heart ached in his chest when he saw you drunk and so careless last night, the way you talked about yourself made him both sad and angry. You gave him a small glimpse of what is going on in your mind, it was only a small one and yet, it showed him how much pain you are hiding, how much distaste you have for yourself and he doesn’t even know why. You are the most perfect being in his eyes. 

Your heart flutters at his words, the look in his eyes is so soft. 

“Please,” he repeats. 

His care, his pleading eyes, his soft touch as he begs you to let him take care of you brings back the tears in your eyes. You are scared and he can see it so clear. You are scared to let him back in only to lose him again. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

You blink, trying to keep yourself together before you will break down again. 

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

He can see your walls crumbling, the ones you have built up around you to shield yourself from him are slowly falling. 

“I’m with you, no matter what.” 

You whisper his name so brokenly, it almost makes him crumble. 

“I won’t ever leave you.”

You left people who hurt you before, they did nothing to stop you, they didn’t beg you to stay, they didn’t try to fix whatever they had broken, they let you go like you had meant nothing to them. 

People have left you, almost everyone that came into your life did and while it hurt, you accepted it, it just wasn’t meant to be but you can’t imagine a life without him. 

You need him. 

You need him to stay. 

You don’t want to see him walking away. 

You are scared to see it happening and yet, you find yourself breaking down and looking up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Please,” you whisper as you grip his shirt tightly in your hand, “I need you.” 

His heart melts and his eyes soften, he only pulls you closer until your chest is pressed against his. 

“Please don’t ever leave me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t know whether to cry or to smile knowing that you still want him. But you are so scared, so afraid of watching him walk away from you. In that moment, he realizes why you didn’t want to give him a second chance, why you wanted him to stay away from you, why you wanted the distance so bad. You are scared of losing him in the end, you are scared of a life without him, you are scared that you won’t survive the heartbreak a second time and it breaks his heart. 

He cups your cheeks tighter, looking into your eyes intently. 

“I will never leave you, sweetheart.” 

You let him hold you for a while. You listen to his heartbeat, melting into his touch. He rubs your back and kisses the top of your head. 

You don’t know how many minutes pass in silence but you appreciate it, him and all of this. You feel safe, only in his arms. 

“Can you distract me, today?” You ask, “please?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says. 

“Didn’t you say you like baking?”

“Yeah, why?” 

You look up at him, finding him staring at you already. 

“We should make chocolate cake,” he smiles. 

“You can bake?” You ask. 

He shakes his head, chuckling, “nope but you can.”

“Oh so you just wanna stand there and look pretty while I bake the cake?” 

“Exactly,” he says, squeezing your waist, his eyes flash with excitement knowing that you will spend the whole weekend with him. “I hope you don’t mind being stuck with me this weekend ‘cause there’s no way, I’m letting you go.” 

You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now. 

���I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” 

He scoffs, glaring softly, “never, sweetheart. If I could, I’d keep you with me all the time, I’d handcuff you to me,” he jokes. 

Raising your eyebrows, you look behind him, only now noticing the handcuffs on the wall. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but grow curious. 

“With those?” You ask, pointing behind him. 

He turns around to look at the wall, a smirk appearing on his face as he looks back at you, “sure but they are kind of uncomfortable.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I got arrested once.” 

You snort. He rolls his eyes playfully but he can’t help but smile. 

“By El’s dad?” 

“Yeah, Hopper.” 

Your eyes widen, “oh, I’d love to get arrested by him, he’s a hot dilf.” 

He frowns, furrowing his brows, “really?” He mumbles. 

“Yup,” you say, “wait, why did you get arrested though?” 

“I got caught stealing socks.” 

You can’t even help but giggle. Eddie raises his brows at you, lips tugging into a smile. Your giggle makes his heart flutter, he is happy to hear it, especially today. 

“Socks?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t have enough money and I really wanted some new socks,” he explains dramatically. 

You shake your head at him, “well, now you can buy endless socks, Eddie,” you say as you get off his lap. You look around the room you haven’t been in before. You eye the Corroded Coffin poster, it was their first ever design. The writing is still black and red, the way it was back then but the background is a faded black now. 

His room here is not much different from his room in LA, the only difference there is, is the mess in this one and the many posters he must have collected over the years, as a teen. A shirt is thrown over the speakers on his dresser, you pick it up, turning around to give him a pointed look, “you’re so messy,” you mumble, not paying much attention to the soft look in his eyes as he watches you. 

“Hellfire club,” you read, “oh, it’s the nerd club you told me about!” 

Eddie groans, clutching his chest dramatically, “nerd club? You wound me, darling.” 

Shaking your head, you snort at him. 

“You should wear it, since you’re a nerd too,” Eddie smiles. 

“Excuse me? Since when am I a nerd?” You scoff. 

“Since you told me that you played DnD with your cousin before,” he grins. He takes his jacket off, throwing it on his bed before he walks towards you. He leans against the dresser and crosses his arms over his chest, watching you with a smile on his face. 

You ignore him, distracted by the polaroid pictures on his dresser, your eyes light up, “oh my god, is that you as a kid?” 

He only recently found these old pictures again. He kept them in a box, far away from where he could see it but as he was cleaning his room and throwing some stuff out, he found the old shoebox again and couldn’t help himself but go through all these pictures that held so many memories, happy and sad ones. 

“Yeah,” he smiles sadly. 

“Can I?” You ask. 

He nods.

You reach for one, a smile tugs at your lips as you eye the picture. He was no older than five in this picture, his curls were wild back then already, brown eyes shining with his happiness as he looked up at the pretty woman who resembled him, his mom. 

Eddie never talked much about her, he only ever mentioned her death but not much else. You never pushed him to talk and he was very thankful for that. You understand him, you never talked much about your dad either, you both struggled to. 

“You were so cute,” you whisper as you trace the picture with your finger, “and she was so beautiful.” 

“She was,” Eddie smiles as he stares at the picture of his mother before his eyes move back to you. The sad smile and the soft look in your eyes tugs at his heart. He wishes that he could introduce you to his mom, you would have liked her. 

“She would’ve loved you,” he says with a sad look in his eyes. 

You turn to look at him, tears burn in the back of his eyes and you find something else other than sorrow and empathy in his eyes, understanding. You both lost a parent, one that you have loved with all your hearts, you were both left with the awful parent, the one that never cared for or loved you. 

Eddie understands you and you understand him. 

“My dad would’ve loved you too,” you whisper. 

He smiles at your words, he would have loved to meet him. 

You look back down, looking at the picture one more time before you place it back on the dresser, “you look just like her.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I’m glad I do, I would’ve hated myself if I looked anything like my dad.” 

“Oh, I should hate myself then cause I’ve been told that I look like my mother,” you say with a frown on your face that tells Eddie how upset you are with that woman. 

You do look like your mother, Eddie has seen the pictures of her and your dad from when they were still married. 

“No,” he mumbles, “don’t hate yourself, sweetheart. You have no reason to do so.” 

You don’t react to his words, you don’t look at him, for a moment, there is a distant expression on your face. You blink, smile turning upside down. You are deep in thought about something, something that surely has to do with your mother. 

You nod to yourself before you turn away. Exploring the rest of Eddie’s room without saying much. The mention of your parents must have brought you back to the magazine. Eddie doesn’t push you to talk, he knows when you need a moment to yourself and right now, it’s one of those moments.

He promises himself to make this day as good for you as possible. Wanting to give you better memories for this day, he knows that Christmas will always remind you of your dad, of this horrible night that happened years ago but he is determined to give you something special for this day. 

By the time you walk back into the living room, Wayne had lit up the Christmas lights that he and Eddie had hung up yesterday morning, ‘we haven’t used these lights in years, Eddie wanted to hang them up for you.’ Wayne had said when you complimented the decorations. Your heart softened, Eddie had already planned to ask you to spend Christmas with him and Wayne. 

You had to call Sam and Steve and your very hysterical best friend, Wren. It took some time calming both her and Sam down after they had read the article, both of them feared the worst. 

It warms your heart to know that there’s people who care about you but it isn't easy to convince them that you are okay when you’re actually really not okay.

You and Eddie baked the cake, well, you baked the cake, Eddie just sat back and watched you with a fond smile on his face. He even turned on some Christmas music which was surprising to both you and Wayne. 

‘Gotta bring in the real Christmas spirit.’ He joked. 

He only came to help when it was time to decorate the cake, eyes lighting up like the one’s of a happy child when you stepped aside and let him finish the cake. 

“Wanna try the frosting?” You ask as you hold the bowl with the leftover vanilla frosting. 

"Yes, please." 

Using the small spoon, you scoop some of the frosting on it before you bring it up to his lips, smiling at him as he tastes it.

“Oh shit, that’s good,” he moans. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm,” he hums before he sticks his finger into the bowl, getting more of the frosting. 

“You have a spoon!” You exclaim. 

“Tastes better like this,” he chuckles, tapping your nose with the frosting on his finger. 

“Eddie,” you whine. 

His eyes flash with amusement as you roll your eyes at him, you raise your hand to wipe away the frosting but he beats you to it, licking it off his finger after wiping it off. 

“I’m just gonna put a shit ton of sprinkles on the cake,” he grins at you as he reaches for the small container of sprinkles. 

Placing the bowl on the table, you watch him. His curls frame his face perfectly, falling down to his shoulders, you notice how much it grew since the summer. Taking the scrunchie out of your hair, you step behind him and gather his hair, putting in a low bun. 

“What’re you doing?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Styling your hair,” you murmur, smiling when he sighs in content. 

Neither of you notice that Wayne has been taking pictures of you two the whole time you have been in the kitchen. The older man watching his nephew with a fond smile on his face as he looks at you with a shine in his eyes that he hasn’t seen in years. 

After what happened this morning, you didn’t expect this day to go so well. You were prepared for another bad Christmas, an even worse one this year due to the article but Eddie and Wayne were able to distract you from it all. 

You were able to forget about the article and your mom, even if just for a moment. 

You watched a Christmas movie, well, a Christmas horror movie since Eddie insisted on it. You watched both parts of silent night deadly night. Despite the wish for more space, you ended up snuggled against him, he had his arm wrapped around you and it was almost impossible not to fall asleep. 

Eddie adored every second, he got to spend with you like this. 

He was happy, for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace because you are willing to give him another chance, no longer running away from him or giving him the cold shoulder, which he admittedly deserves after the things he had done to you. 

After dinner and dessert, it was time for presents and you were staring at Eddie excitedly, already knowing what he ‘got’ for Wayne. He planned this a long time ago, what started off with a wish, finally became reality. 

A number 1 hit, touring across the country and throwing concerts almost every night, finally gave him the chance to afford something he never thought he would. 

No more food stamps, no more sleepless nights and worrying about bills they couldn’t afford to pay. Those days are over. Eddie can finally give his uncle a life he deserves. 

You lean your elbows on the table, cupping your cheeks, you raise your brows at Eddie, who gives you an exciting smile. 

“Alright, you’ll get the first present of the night, Wayne,” Eddie starts, unable to fight the smile off his face, “I wanted to take you somewhere but uh, the weather said no,” he chuckles as he gestures to the heavy snow that is falling outside. 

Wayne furrows his brows, tilting his head, “what do you mean, son?” 

“Uh,” Eddie mumbles, suddenly feeling nervous, he scratches the back of his neck, reaching for the small box, he slides it over to his uncle, “here.” 

Wayne raises his hand slowly, taking the box, he gives Eddie a look, a knowing and nervous one. 

“Open it,” Eddie says. 

The older man mutters something under his breath, giving his nephew another look before he focuses on the present, removing the wrapping paper, he furrows his brows at the small box, he opens it slowly, almost too slowly, as though he is nervous. When his eyes fall on the key, his eyes widen and he stares at it for a long moment before he raises his head to look at Eddie. 

“Ed, what..” He trails off, staring at his nephew with a shocked look in his eyes, “tell me, you didn’t.” 

“I did,” Eddie smiles proudly, “I promised you, didn’t I?” 

A long time ago, Eddie promised his uncle that he would buy him a house someday, he promised him a better life. 

Wayne huffs in disbelief, he blinks rapidly. He brings his hand up to his jaw as he looks down at the key. 

“It’s nothing big but it’s a house, not a trailer,” Eddie says, his eyes soften as he looks at his uncle, knowing that he is trying not to cry, “it’s a good area, Wayne. Cornwallis street to be exact and you’re minutes away from Lake Jordan.” 

“Eddie,” the older man sighs, “you didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did. You gave me everything, Wayne. You didn’t have to but you did, I owe you so much.” 

Eddie couldn’t be more thankful, Wayne gave him things that his dad couldn’t give him. He raised him well, taught him things that he needed for his life, he gave him money whenever he needed it knowing that he would struggle at the end of the month but he didn’t care, he needed to know that his nephew was taken care of, that he had enough clothes, a full stomach, even if that meant that he went to sleep hungry. 

You look between them, your heart swells in your chest when you stare at Eddie. You grew up with money, you never had days when you had to worry about being kicked out of the house because your parents couldn’t afford the rent, you never went to sleep hungry, you had endless of toys and clothes. You never had to worry about the things that Eddie and Wayne had to worry about. You can only imagine how exciting and relieving it must be for Eddie to be able to give this to his uncle. 

“You don’t owe me anything, son.” 

Eddie shakes his head at his words, smiling at Wayne. 

“You literally still sleep on the fold out bed instead of taking the damn room for yourself.” 

“It’s your room, Eddie.” 

“Yeah well, you will finally have your own room, old man,” Eddie grins, patting his uncle on the shoulder, “it’s all I ever wanted, get you an actual house, you deserve better than this,” he says, gesturing to the trailer. 

“S’not that bad, Ed,” he frowns, “it’s home.” 

He is right, this is a home, not just a house or a place, this is home. Even to you it feels like that. 

“Well, you’ll get a new home, a better one.” 

Wayne shakes his head, still in shock about the present his nephew got him. 

“C’mere.” He gets up as Eddie does too, embracing each other in a hug, you look at them fondly. 

“Thank you,” Wayne says as he pats his nephew’s back, “you’re a good kid, Ed. You’re too good.” 

“You’re a good uncle, the best,” Eddie grins as he pulls back from the hug, “I can’t wait to show you the house.” 

After the initial shock, you gave Wayne your present. He looked just as surprised as he did before, not expecting you to give him anything. 

“It’s not much but it’s a little something,” you chuckle as you watch him open the envelope. 

“A little something?” He scoffs as he takes out the tickets. 

“Eddie told me that you had never been to Los Angeles so uh, I thought that you could come visit him when we’re back home. You can pick the date yourself,” you say, pointing to the tickets, “and, a little birdie told me that you’re not working on New Years Eve so I booked you a hotel room so you can come see us play in Chicago.”

You don’t see the look of surprise and love in Eddie’s eyes. To see you get along with his uncle makes him feel so grateful and happy. You and Wayne mean everything to him, to know that you like him so much means a lot to him. 

Wayne shakes his head with a smile on his face, “you’re spoiling me,” he says to the both of you, “you really didn’t have to, darling but thank you so much.” 

He gives you a warm hug and thanks you with a grateful smile on his face. 

“I got you something too, it doesn’t beat your presents but it’s a little something.”

Your eyes widen and you stare at the man in surprise as you sit back down, “oh no, you didn’t have to, getting to spend Christmas with you two is the best present.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften and Wayne chuckles, shaking his head, he smiles at you as he hands you a present wrapped in red and white paper. Both men see the excited look in your eyes, it makes them both smile harder. 

You unwrap your present, a giggle falling from your lips when you see the mug. It’s a light pink one with strawberries all over it, “that’s so cute!” You exclaim as you stare at it as though it’s the best present you had ever gotten, it makes both of them chuckle. 

“I love that so much, thank you!” 

“You’re welcome, kid,” he smiles, “but there’s something else.” 

Furrowing your brows, you look down, noticing another small present inside the mug. You can feel that it’s a necklace but as you unwrap it and your eyes fall on the black and purple guitar pick, you look up at the man, “that wasn’t meant for Eddie, was it?” You chuckle. 

He grins at you, shaking his head, “that goes with a present, he got for you.” 

Your lip twitches and you turn to look at Eddie with a curious smile. 

He looks excited and giddy. Jumping up from the chair, he walks away, rushing into his bedroom. You hear him shuffling around in his room, a few curse words echoing through the room when something tumbles to the ground , making both you and Wayne chuckle. 

He comes back, a large smile on his face as he holds something behind his back. 

“Alright rockstar, this is for you,” he grins, handing you the very badly wrapped present, it almost makes you laugh. You don’t have to guess what it is, it is obvious. 

“I-Is that a–”

“Unwrap it, sweetheart.” 

He hands you the present, his fingers brush against yours, your eyes lock for a moment. 

Eddie watches in anticipation, he sits back down, bouncing his knee as he stares at you with wide and exciting eyes. Your eyes grow bigger when you finally lay your eyes on the guitar you have practically fallen in love with when you had laid eyes on it all these months ago. 

“Eddie,” you gasp, unable to tear your eyes away from the beautiful electric guitar, you admire it, tracing the smooth wood with your fingertips. It’s black, adorned with dark purple color on the sides, “she’s pretty.” 

“How? It’s the one I saw in New York,” you mumble as you look up at Eddie. 

He shrugs, smiling at you, “I saw you staring at it every time we walked past that store,” he explains, “I got it when you went out to eat with Jeff and Gareth.” 

Your gaze softens, a warm feeling settles in your chest and your stomach. Your heart flutters. He got it for you all these months back? 

“How did I not see it, I’ve never seen you carry two guitar cases?” 

“I shipped it to Hawkins, I knew you’d spend Christmas with us,” he shrugs.

“Eddie,” you whisper, “I-I love it, thank you.” 

You place the guitar down, getting up, you step towards him, he opens his arms for you right away, pulling you into a hug. 

He closes his eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I got more for you but you’ll get it later,” he whispers. 

“Thank you so much,” you whisper. Your voice is thick with emotions, Eddie knows that you are on the verge of tears. You kiss his cheek, thanking him once again before you take the attention away from you, practically shoving your present for him in his arms so you don’t start crying for all the love you are getting tonight. 

You got him a new shoulder strap for his guitar, adorned with bats that match his tattoos. New rings and a matching necklace that he excitedly puts on, right away. Hanging the strap over his shoulder, “I'm so excited to go back on tour,” he grins as he looks down at the guitar strap. 

“Thank you so much, sweetheart.” 

He plants a big kiss on your cheek, unaware of the big smile on his uncle’s face as he looks between the two of you. 

Wayne gifted Eddie a bunch of movies, a new bandana that Eddie had put around his wrist right away and a book he had wished for. 

You couldn’t be more thankful for both men, your day wouldn’t have turned out as well as it did if it wasn’t for them. 

-

You retreat to Eddie’s room after a few more drinks and a hot shower. Wearing one of his shirts and his boxers, you sit on the bed, flipping through the pages of the magazine you promised to throw away, you couldn’t help it. 

You stare at the pictures of your dad, the smile on his face that you haven’t seen in so long makes your heart hurt, you miss him so much. All that is left of him is his music, his pictures, his guitar that you kept and a letter you have yet to open. 

You take it with you, everywhere you go, you take the letter with you, hoping that you will finally find the courage to open it, to read it and get answers to why he did it but you are too afraid of the truth. 

The letter is tucked away in your suitcase at the lone motel. 

Your eyes fall on the pictures of your mother, your painfully beautiful mother. If only her personality was just as beautiful. She has always been awful to you, cold and distant to you and your dad. 

But you didn’t expect her to be this cold. 

“Are you ready to sleep in the comfiest bed– hey, you shouldn’t read that again.” 

You look up, your vision is blurred, you didn’t even notice the tears that have welled up in your eyes. 

Eddie’s eyes soften and he sighs, whispering your name. 

“I– yeah, you’re right,” you mumble, closing the magazine, you throw it to the ground and wipe away the tears, “I just wanted to see my dad.”

It hurts him to know how much you are suffering. 

“But I’m okay,” you say as you pull the blanket higher, leaning back against the comfy pillows, you give him a small smile. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, opting to give you a smile that doesn’t even reach your eyes. He joins you on his bed, the smell of his aftershave and shampoo hitting your senses. He gets under the blanket, scooting a little closer to you but making sure to give you space. The shirt you are wearing is one of his favorites, you smell like him, having used his body wash and shampoo, it makes his heart flutter. 

You are here, in his room, in his bed, with him. 

“You look cute.” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. 

He winks at you, turning his back to you, he reaches for something under his bed. 

You notice that something has changed about him and it isn’t just the hair that got longer, his shoulders got broader, arms more muscular than before. 

“Do you work out?” You blurt out. 

“Huh?” 

He looks at you in amusement, holding a box in his hands. 

“Y-You have muscles.” 

Eddie chuckles, “are you checking me out?” 

Your eye roll makes him laugh even more. 

The truth is, yes, he started working out. He found that it is a good outlet for his anger. A year ago, he would have drowned his emotions in alcohol and weed but he doesn’t want to do that anymore, he wants to be better than that, he wants to be better than his father. 

“Here, this is for you.” 

A box filled with things that you have wanted but never gotten was the last thing that you expected. Just like with the guitar, there’s things that you have never even spoken about. Eddie was there when you stared at that one necklace, he was there when you walked past that one store that sold polaroid cameras, he paid attention to the things you eyed for a little too long, he saw the glint in your eyes and without having to ask, he knew that you wanted them. 

He collected them over the months, preparing for Christmas. It filled him with excitement, every time you were busy, he went back to the stores you have passed to buy the things you wanted. 

He smiles as he watches you, his heart flutters in his chest when you put the necklace around your neck with an excited smile on your lips. 

You don’t know what to say, uttering a small ‘thank you’. A smile is all that he needs but you scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek before you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for everything, I-I think this might have been my favorite Christmas.” 

His eyes flash with surprise and his heart tugs in his chest. He puts his arm around you, looking down at you with a fond smile on his face, “really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You drown out the horrible things that happened this morning, the horrible things that are yet to come thanks to whoever sold the story about your dad. You focus on Eddie, on the things he did for you, on the things he said to you, last night. 

‘We can start over, okay?’

You want it so bad. You want to start over. Go back to the beginning. 

“Can we start over?” 

“What?” 

You look up at him with big eyes, hope for the future deep in your eyes. 

“You said we can start over, so.. can we?” 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, smiling at your words. It looks as though a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, eyes shining with happiness, “of course we can.” 

“Good.”

“Very good.” 

His deep voice and the seriousness in his eyes makes you chuckle. 

“Back to the beginning?” 

“Yes, back to the beginning.” 

“You wanna leave everything behind?” He asks. 

You know what he means by that. 

“Yes but we gotta be honest to each other from now on, you have to be honest with me and I have to be honest with you too.”

He nods, agreeing with your words but a curious look flickers in his eyes. 

“You’re always honest.” 

You shift uncomfortably, looking down, you place the lit back on the box and place it on the nightstand. 

“Not always. There’s something I didn’t tell you.” 

Right. 

Eddie knows what you are talking about. A knowing look flashes in his eyes, one that you fail to notice. 

“I want us to be honest with each other, no more secrets,” you say. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. 

You finally notice the look in his eyes, it reminds you of the one you had seen when he stormed into the trailer earlier. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand, he looks into your eyes. 

“Sam asked me something.”

By the look on your face and the quiet ‘oh’ that falls from your lips, he already knows that you know what it is about, he waits for a moment, making sure that you aren’t uncomfortable. 

“He uh– he asked if you are using drugs again.” 

Your lips part and a nervous expression crosses your face, you blink, shame filling your eyes. 

“Eddie.” 

Tears brim your eyes. 

“Did you?”

You can’t read his eyes, not right now. You can’t tell if he is angry or if he’s worried or disgusted by you because you were so quick to get mad at him for believing Chrissy when you have done these things yourself. 

You nod and close your eyes. 

To say that he is shocked is an understatement, on top of that he is worried. You have been around drugs for months, hell, you are around them right now. Eddie still has his secret stash in his room. 

His heart is pounding in his chest, he is scared. 

“You don’t have to talk about it–”

“No, it’s okay, Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

You nod, “yeah,” you whisper. 

“When?” 

“2 years ago,” you admit, “i-it was only a few times, I didn’t have an addiction or anything, j-just.. did it a few times and then Sam caught me.” 

“Jesus,” he sighs, “what did you take?” 

“Just cocaine, some pills, I don’t know what they were.” 

“Just cocaine,” he scoffs as anger flashes in his eyes, “that could have ruined you, y/n.”

“I know, that’s why I stopped,” you whisper, not feeling affected by his anger, you know he is just worried. 

“Why did you take it in the first place?” 

“I-I needed to feel something.”

You felt numb and needed something that would lift you up. You weren’t one to drown yourself in alcohol, parties and one night stands every weekend. You drowned yourself in work, you spent your free time writing songs and helping Sam out, that’s how you met the one who got you into drugs in the first place but Sam didn’t need to know that. 

You can imagine what goes on inside his mind as you look into his eyes, ‘how could you be so careless?’, ‘how could you do the one thing that killed your dad?’ 

Truth be told, you wanted to know what it felt like, what it made him feel like. 

While your dad tried to numb the pain, you tried to make the numbness fade away but it only helped for a little while. Back then it wasn’t difficult to stop, you didn’t get attached, it was easy to stop. 

“I only did it a few times and then I stopped, I never had a problem, Eddie.” 

He believes you, the truth is in your eyes but it doesn’t stop him from worrying. You were so desperate to feel something, you were willing to risk your life. The thought makes him feel sick, ‘what if you thought about it when he hurt you?’, ‘what if you got close to taking them again after what happened between you two?’, ‘what if you took some last night?’ 

“Eddie, I haven’t touched them ever since, haven’t even thought about it. Not on tour, not at any parties, never.” 

“I believe you,” he whispers, feeling guilty for making you feel like you have to explain yourself to him when you are clearly suffering. 

You swallow nervously, it’s something you have never talked about to anyone. Not even your friends, they knew certain things but not everything. 

“But how did you get into them, the drugs?” 

He looks for the hesitation in your eyes but there isn’t any, there is only a nervous look on your face. You are scared of what he will think. 

You take a deep breath, leaning back again, you reach for the small pillow and bring it up to your chest. 

“When I was working with Sam, I met this guy. He uh, he was– is a singer, had his own band too. He was nice, he was good to me and he was older than me. I liked that, it made me feel safe. I worked on some song texts with him and we started spending a lot of time together. He took me to places, I went to his concerts and the stupid after parties, we would get high together or drunk but when it was just the two of us, we did other things.”

Eddie frowns at your words, he can’t even contain the jealousy that is clear on his face. 

“I took drugs, not all the time but I did, I’m not proud of it. I wanted to know what it felt like. My friends were pissed at me and so was Sam when he found out.” 

“How did your friends find out?” 

You grow flustered at his question, avoiding his eyes, you look down at your hands as you think back that night. 

“Do you remember Frankie?” You ask. 

He furrows his brows, “uh yeah, the crazy redhead?” He asks, making you chuckle. 

“Yeah, her,” you smile, “I dragged her and the others to a party at his house. We uh, he took me to his room,” you pause, not knowing how much you should actually tell him, the look in his eyes is unreadable, “I didn’t want to take drugs at a party my friends were at but he had a way of convincing me to do stuff I didn’t want to do and when I was snorting that crap, Frankie walked in and caught me.” 

His eyes flash with anger at your words, to know that someone else could have such an effect on you worries him. 

“She got hysterical, basically dragged me out of the room and cursed him out when he laughed at her. She told the others and they were pissed.” 

“How’d you stop?” 

You shrug, “I knew that I would end up like my dad a-and I didn’t want that. I also didn’t want to lose my friends. It wasn’t an issue for me to stop, really. I only did it out of curiosity and because he convinced me.” 

“I’m glad you stopped and I’m proud of you.” He says, squeezing your hand.

He feels relieved to know that you weren’t addicted and hung up on the drugs but it still worries him, you have been through so much, he knows how easy it is to fall back into old habits. 

He can’t help but grow hatred for the man he doesn’t even know. A part of him feels curious though. 

“Thank you,” you smile. 

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend before..” 

“I didn’t, he wasn’t my boyfriend.” 

“What was he then?” 

You shrug, blinking.

“Well, I– we never made anything official, he treated me like I was his but I-I didn’t want that. I broke the whole thing off after a while. I knew that we’d never work out as a couple, he would drag me back into all that shit and I didn’t want to get attached to someone like that or even fall in love.”

“Oh.” 

You can tell that there’s a million other questions running through his mind but there is mostly relief in his eyes. 

You are both quiet for a moment until you decide that it’s time to move on to another question. 

“Why did you never tell me about Chrissy?” You ask, “I know we’ve talked about this before but I wanna have an actual answer.” 

Eddie raises his brows, taking a deep breath, he looks into your eyes. 

“Like even when we were just friends, why didn’t you tell me about her?” You add. 

“To be honest, I didn’t think it was worth bringing her up, I– yes, she was my girlfriend but I didn’t think that I was her boyfriend anymore, the relationship was over.”

“But that’s so dumb, Eddie. You were still with her,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he sighs, “but things with her were weird. She made me promise that things between us wouldn’t change but when I left Hawkins and came to California, she basically broke off contact, she never called and deep down I knew that she was with Jason. It hurt, I didn’t get why she was with me when she wanted someone else. She hurt me so many times before, she lied to me, she cheated on me. I was a mess back then but I got used to it, to the lies and the things she did,” he pauses, scoffing at his old self, “I should have left her but every time I tried to leave, she would get inside my head, tell me that no one else would want me and it fucking scared me, y/n. I didn’t want to be alone but I didn’t want to be with her any longer either, I-I was conflicted.” 

“But you left Hawkins, by yourself. You were alone.” You say, shaking your head as you stare at him in confusion. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “she brought up kids and marriage and that thought made me sick, I didn’t want that. I panicked and I just wanted to run away. I should’ve broken up with her first but I was still too attached to her and I knew I needed to break that emotional connection before leaving her because I knew that she would always reel me back in otherwise. I spent months hating myself for not being able to do what I should’ve done a long time ago, I didn’t think much of her, she was on my mind less and less and then you came along and everything changed. You made me feel good, you made me feel happy in a way she never did, you healed me. You showed me what it’s like to be cared for, what it’s like to be genuinely liked. You didn’t want me for something, you just wanted me.”

Your eyes are wide, soft and filled with empathy. 

You had every reason to be angry at him, to have all these trust issues, anyone would think the thoughts that you had when you just found out about her. 

But you understand him now, you believe him. 

“I never realized what genuine reciprocated affection was like until it was too late.” 

His brown eyes are filled with sadness as he thinks back to the night in Cincinnati. 

“You made me so fucking happy, sweetheart and I– I ruined it.” 

You shake your head, scooting closer, you take both of his hands in yours. 

“We’ll start over, right?” 

His glassy eyes flash with hope and he nods, whispering a small ‘yes’.

“I’m sorry about what happened with her, that she hurt you like that. She didn’t deserve you,” you frown as you think of the pain he had gone through in that relationship.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, “I uh, I realized that I never loved her like I thought I had.” Not like I love you. 

“Really?” 

He nods. 

“Do you remember the night at the beach?” 

“Of course I remember the night at the beach, Eddie.” 

“You described love to me, how it’s supposed to feel with the right person, how it’s supposed to feel with your soulmate,” he whispers, hands running down your arms, he slowly takes your hands in his, “that’s how it feels with you, I would do anything for you and with you, you are my person. I never felt that way about her or with her.” 

You feel the same way about him and he knows it. 

“And how long have you really felt this way about me?” you ask, a softened gaze in your eyes. 

“From the start,” he whispers, squeezing your hand, “it confused me at first, I have never felt this way about anyone else before, I didn’t know what it was at first. And then we talked about love and relationships and that night I realized that I never loved her, I admired her but I never loved her.” 

“You are my person too, Eddie. You called me your best friend last night,” you smile, “I feel the same way.” 

“Yeah? I’m your best friend, sweetheart?” 

You nod. 

“What about the mean girl group from LA?” 

You gasp, “mean girl group? My friends are not mean,” you chuckle. 

“They all glared at me.” 

“They’re protective,” you shrug. 

“Well after the last guy you’ve been with, I get it.” 

You snort at his words, “he’s kinda famous you know?” 

“I’m famous.” 

“Yes you are,” you nod. 

“Alright, what did you think of me when you first saw me?” He asks, curiously. 

“Oh my god,” you chuckle as you think back to the night at the bar your friends had dragged you to. Corroded Coffin had a gig and it was the first time you had ever seen them play. Eddie was the one that caught your eye, of course. He wore a tank top, a black bandana around his head, black leather pants, his cheeks were flushed and god, he looked good. 

“I was impressed by your guitar skills and your voice,” you admit, “I loved your style and you just looked so good.” 

He smirks in satisfaction. 

“Thanks sweetheart.” 

“You’re welcome,” you snort. 

Looking around the room, you think of a question. You look down at yourself and at his bed, an amused expression appearing on your face when you turn back to him. 

“When’s the last time you pissed the bed? Steve warned me about your mattress.” 

“What!” He yells in a whisper, a mortified look crossing his face as his cheeks flush red, “no way! I have not– okay 16 when I got wasted but that’s besides the point.” 

You burst into laughter, closing your eyes, you throw your head back, “oh my god.” 

“That’s not funny– okay, you know what, it is funny,” he laughs, “but look at you!” He exclaims, turning away from you, he opens his nightstand, pulling out a magazine that wrote about Corroded Coffin, featuring the backstories of each band member. 

He shows you the pictures he ripped out of the magazine, which he totally plans on keeping. 

“Look at that little ray of sunshine,” he grins, holding out the pictures of you as a kid, “look at how cute you were with your pigtails and your pink dresses, you used to be so sweet, what happened to that little girly girl?” He teases you with a smug look on his face. 

You groan in annoyance, “the girly girl grew out of the dresses her mom picked out for her.”

You grow flustered, trying to snatch the picture out of his hand but he pulls it back, “uh uh, I’m keeping this, look at this cute little baby.” 

“Eddie!” 

He chuckles at you, brown eyes shining with amusement, “you were so adorable, I know that kindergarten me would have asked you to marry me if we knew each other back then.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, “suddenly, I’m tired. Good night.” 

“Ouch, did my kindergarten self just get rejected?” He asks dramatically. 

“Shut up,” you snort. 

You can hear him shuffling around, putting the pictures back in the drawer. You would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t make your heart flutter, it’s cute that he kept the pictures of you. 

He turns off the light and gets comfortable behind you. You don’t bother closing your eyes or actually trying to fall asleep, knowing that he will speak up again. 

But he stays quiet for a while, a deep sigh interrupts the silence though. 

“Eddie?” You whisper.

“Yes?” 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“How do you know that I wanna know something?” 

You snort. 

“I can feel it.” 

“How?” 

“It’s a girl’s thing.” 

“Ah,” he says quietly. 

Another minute or so passes before he lets out another sigh. 

“Do you still want Henry to give you nipple piercings?” 

You almost burst into giggles, out of all the questions he could have asked, this is the one that has been on his mind all along? 

“Yeah,” you shrug, already imagining the frown appearing on his face. And just as you had suspected, he scoffs at your words and turns away. 

“Did you just turn your back on me?” 

“Yup.” 

You turn towards him and scoot closer, staring at him in the darkness. You wrap your arm around his waist and hug him from behind. 

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, excitement rushes through him and he melts into you. 

“What happened to space?” He mumbles into the blanket. 

You ignore his question. 

“What’s wrong grumpy?” 

“Grumpy?” 

“Yeah, you’re a grumpy old man,” you whisper. 

He gasps, turning around to face you, “old? I’m two years older than you.” 

“Exactly, you’re like a dinosaur.” 

He scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Are you saying you are into grumpy old men?” 

“Yeah, I was always into older grumpy washed up rockstars who are into younger women.” 

Eddie can tell that you are trying to act playful and fine the way you always do, even today but the sadness still lingers in the back of your voice. 

“Well, then you are my hot trophy wife,” he blurts out. 

Your eyes widen and his do too when he realizes what he just said. 

Wife?! 

“If anything you’d be my trophy husband–”

“Well yeah, you’re gonna be my wife someday–”

You both speak at the same time. 

“What?!” 

The looks on both of your face’s are comical, both flustered and in shock. 

“Well..” You start, “I always wanted a house husband,” you joke.

He scoots closer to you, close enough so the tip of his nose brushes against yours. 

“Oh, I’m gonna be a dad too?” He smiles.

“Probably when we’re both drunk, I tend to make questionable decisions when I am.” 

He chuckles at your words, “alright well, let's do it. We can have that american dream and all that shit,  we’ll have that fucking white picket fence– I’m totally drawing some sick bats on it though.” 

You giggle, eyes growing heavy as you get sleepy. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles, “we’ll call our kid Arwen, she’s gonna be a little badass like her mom.” 

Your smile falls a little, a bittersweet feeling settles deep within your heart as you feel yourself longing for something you might not ever get. A future with him, this future with him. He doesn’t actually want that, he told you so. 

But you do. 

The stupid white picket fence. You never wanted it, you wanted this life, the band, the tours, the concerts and yet here you are falling in love with the thought of a family with him. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is it okay if I touch you? I wanna hold you.” 

Tears well up in your eyes, your heart melts in your chest. 

You wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest. He smiles at your action, placing his hands on the small of your back, he pulls you on top of him, kissing the top of your head, “thank you,” he whispers. 

You close your eyes, begging for sleep to take over so you can stop thinking of something that will never happen.

Eddie has a dreamy smile on his face as he thinks of it though. Something he never wanted with her, he wants with you. He wants to build a life with you. He wants marriage and kids, a family. 

He looks down at you with adoration in his eyes. 

He swears to himself that he will do anything to make you happy, to keep you safe and protect you. 

He will give you the world if you ask him to. 

-

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[sweet-honey-fruit]

Kissing Your Best Friend

Synopsis: A kiss for your best friend may lead to something more.

With — Al-Haitham, Childe, Tighnari

Genre: fluff

Warnings: OOC Al-haitham cause i dont write him much, minor spoilers for Childe lore. Totally didn’t neglect Al-Haitham.

Al-Haitham

There’s a small hint of a grin on your lips when Al-Haitham opens the door to his house. Immediately, he gives you a skeptical look, reluctantly stepping out of the way to allow you to come inside.

“What is this about?” He asks, following your lead after closing the door with a soft ‘click’. You don’t respond, at least not right away. Before, you were excited, imagining what he would do or say upon your lips being on his, bursting into laughter. But now, you were starting to feel the nerves kicking in. As much as you wished you could deny it, the feelings for the Scribe went deeper than close friends. Perhaps this idea was just projecting onto yourself to express your true feelings.

“What? Am I not allowed to come visit you? I thought you said I was welcomed here anytime I want!” You throw your hands up exaggeratedly, leaving him to look at you with a very unamused look.

“You are. But you’re up to something, I can see it on your face.”

“What? No, not me. I’m never up to something,” Your attempt to feign innocence made him roll his eyes. He made his way towards you, and with each step it made your nervousness grow. As always, you failed to conceal from someone as keen as him. He was so close to you, inches away, his breath fanning over your face. The look he cascaded down to you made you uncomfortably shift from one foot to the next, eyes looking everywhere but his.

“Look at me.” His voice was firm, and you didn’t dare disobey the Scribe of the Akademyia. Your gaze stared into the pool of his teal ones, and there he could see how skittish you looked. He raised a brow, crossing his arms, “Did you do something illegal?”

His question made you sputter before bursting into laughter, placing your hands on his waist, “No! I didn’t do anything illegal! At least, not yet- ow!” He landed a playful smack on your bicep, a small smile placed on his lips. His eyes were closed, and he was speaking but to you no sound came out. He looked so pretty, so divine, so…kissable. Your body moved against your brains protests.

His words stopped when he felt your mouth on his, and for once he was surprised. His eyes were wide, stance rigid, and he swears he stopped breathing. When you finally pull away, his stance didn’t change much. You two just stared at each other, and with each second passing your nerves were hightened even more, mind swirling that you fucked up. That was until his next words.

“Do that again.”

Childe

The only time you have felt like this was when you first showed up at Childe’s house at ten years old. A nervous wreck, wondering if his parents would hate you, despise you, ban you from seeing your friend. That very same feeling is coming back to haunt you after all these years, albeit worse, and more complex. An anxiety-filled disaster was not even close to explaining what you're feeling right now. The dish being aggressively scrubbed in your hands was a tell-tale sign of that. The sponge was ripping from your nails digging into it, and the paint on the dish was about to be scrubbed off from the intensity if it wasn’t for a hand being placed over yours.

“Now what did that plate do to you? Other than making a mess, of course,”

His voice made your heart beat faster, making your chest twist in pain with the intensity. He didn’t overlook that nervous smile that you gave him, or the breathless “Sorry,” that was bashfully passed past your lips. He stood and watched you move from one plate to the next, analyzing every little anxious habit you were conducting. To others, it may just seem like you were having a bad day. Yet when it comes to Childe, he reads you like a book. It’s easy when he’s known you for a little over a decade. He knows something is going on in that head of yours. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been actively trying to avoid him for the past month; otherwise, you wouldn’t have reluctantly agreed to his dinner invitation at his parent's. You only said yes because he brought Teucer along to beg you to follow through. Childe knew you couldn’t resist his little brother's puppy-eye look.

“Why don’t you let me help? You’re the guest, and you shouldn’t even be doing the dishes. I’ll wash and you dry?” He asks, but it comes out more of a demand, “Don’t want you ruining any dishes, my mom would be angry at you for a whole five seconds!”

You let out a mix of a genuine laugh and a timid one, hesitantly stepping off to the side to allow him to take over. After, it was quiet. Neither of you said a word, the sound of the rushing water and sponge on the plate replacing any conversation you two may have had. Any dish handed to you was absentmindedly dried and placed to the side. Each passing second of silence felt like torture to the harbinger. You’re usually messing around, cracking jokes, and talking about the most random and absurd topics. All things he’s grown to adore about you. But now, you’re standing there quiet, standoffish, and terrified. For once in an excruciatingly long time, he was apprehensive. He hasn’t felt this way since he left the abyss. He turned the water off despite the remaining pile of dishes in the sink. Your eyes looked between him and the filthy plates, confused as to why he stopped.

Childe turns to look at you fully, his eyes full of concern as he whispered, “What’s wrong (Y/n)?”

You swallow your words, standing still and just staring at him, confused about what to say. You can’t remember the last time he used your real name instead of some cheesy nickname.

“Um- nothing. Why?”

You’re not even sure why you’re so adamant about lying to him. Even you were aware of your distant behavior towards him. But the thought of telling him why felt more humiliating than covering a lie.

“Right. That’s why you’ve been staying away from me like you’re wanted for debt.” You notice the bitter undertone in his words despite his trying to be understanding. And it hurt knowing you were unintentionally hurting him.

“Look-“ His tone turned softer, although sadder, and it hurt you even more, “I won’t push you to tell me. I’m just wondering why…why I’m losing my best friend. Is it because I’m a Harbinger? Are you scared of me? Did I do something wrong-“

“No.”

He stopped, looking at your frame in utter shock at your sudden sternness. Your heart was pounding against your chest as you keep your eyes on the wall in front of you. You refused to meet his gaze, horrified that one look at him and you’ll falter. That you’ll back out on telling him. But you knew you had to for being humiliated was better than putting him through emotional turmoil.

“It’s cause I like you, okay? More than a friend.” Your words were rushed, and your skin was heating up from a mix of embarrassment and nerves. Another uncomfortable silence fell over the already tense kitchen. The laughter of Childe’s siblings playing just a couple of rooms over seemed like a taunt to you, that they’re laughing at you for your feelings and confession.

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted when you felt a warm hand cup your cheek and turn your head towards the Harbinger before you. His touch, his stare, his smile, it was all so gentle. There was no trace of disgust or mockery in his eyes. Relief is what you saw in replacement of your paranoid-filled expectation.

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest when you saw his face slowly move toward yours. You couldn’t help how your breath hitched and eyes widen, all of which caused Childe to stop. He didn’t say anything, only looking you in the eyes, waiting for the cue to either continue or step back and pretend it never happened. Much to his excitement, you gave him a little nod to continue, and he was back to leaning down. Slowly, agonizingly slow as if he wanted to make sure that you wanted this. That this wasn’t a dream. That your confession echoing in his head was the truth. Much to his alleviation, you stayed put, slowly mirroring his movements and leaning forward. Each second caused your skin to ignite even hotter. Every inch made your previous worries and second guesses melt away.

The smell of his smoky cologne overtook your senses as finally, finally his lips were placed upon yours. It was deep and slow, him moving with expertise when his free hand was placed on your hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. It was simultaneously comforting and horrifying. You’ve bashfully imagined kissing him, but never thought it would happen.

He pulled away only a couple of centimeters to catch his breath before kissing you again with more intensity. He pushed himself forward, forcing you to be pressed back against the counter, his hands caging you against it. Your breathing turned more ragged the longer he kept his soft lips against yours, overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all. When he pulled away for good, he was grinning, pressing his forehead against your own.

He was delicate as he talked, admiration laced with every word, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

Tighnari

“Please, why are we here?” You complain through chattering teeth. The harsh wind of Dragonspine nipped at the remaining skin exposed to the harsh weather, rendering your heavy winter clothes useless. The vision hanging on your hip dimly glowed as if it was also protesting the coldness around. Meanwhile, the fennec fox in front of you seems unbothered by The Tsarita’s hellscape.

“I’ve already told you, we’re collecting starsilver for Cyno so that way he can compare the real deal with the counterfeits that have been going around Sumeru,” His annoyance was evident in his tone and the twitch in his ears. Other than the rushing snow, your voice of complaints was the only sound following the two of you. If it wasn’t for his high patience with you, you would’ve been left in a cave somewhere already.

“Besides, I dont know why you’re complaining, from what I recall, you were begging to come join me,” He scoffed, sending a glare your way. You stopped walking, crossing your arms and glaring back at him.

“I wanted to make sure you would be safe! Dragonspine is dangerous and avalanches have been more frequent lately. You couldn’t go alone.”

“I’m starting to wish I did.” His harsh words only made you smile. You walked up to him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer to you.

“You and I both know that you would be begging to have me here if you went alone,” You mirrored the tone he used for you, a smug grin on your face when you saw the way he rolled his eyes. He shrugged you off, his tail playfully hitting your side.

It’s been hours since the two of you entered Dragonspine. It was the crack of dawn when you made your way over the broken wooden bridge, and it was now almost sunset when you reach the top. A small patch of starsilver twinkled over a pile of rocks, and you’ve never felt more relief in your entire life.

“What? That’s it?” Tighnari said, baffled, “This isn’t nearly enough.”

You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically at his statement, “You’re so unbearable. Sufferable. Punchable even.”

“Let's grab what we can get then call it a night. We can head back down tomorrow and try the base of the mountain.” Tighnari ignored your previous statement as he walked forward, getting to work on slowly mining out the rare ore. You stood next to him, holding the bag open to allow him easier access to putting the ore away. You zone out looking at his concentrated face. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, hands expertly moving the starsilver around to loosen it up, his tail wagging slightly, ears slightly parted, his eyes lighting up when he gets a piece out.

He was adorable. Smart and witty with a sass that rivaled yours. It was hard to not fall for him. You found it inappropriate to love someone who was, in a way, your Master. Despite being around the same age, he took you on to be his assistant, seeing the potential you couldn’t see for yourself when you first arrived in the village. He’s the reason why you’re as strong and intelligent as you are right now. You’re convinced that he’s the reason why you have a vision. He’s the reason you were redeemed. You owe your life to him, so why must you feel your heart skip a beat whenever you’re around him?

“Watch out!”

His sudden shout knocked you out of your trance. All you saw was a blur of black and green before you were tackled, your breath leaving your lungs in an icy exhale. Both of your bodies tumble down into the pit that holds the domain below. You barely have time to react till your back is slammed onto the powdery snow. Even though the thick layer of powder broke your fall, it did little to soften the blow of the forest ranger falling on top of you. A loud groan is pushed out of you when you feel the sharp pain shoot through your body. Your ears are ringing from the intensity of the hit and your vision was knocked sideways, everything spinning around you.

Tighnari stayed on top of you, holding your body close and catching his breath. The thundering sound of rushing snow and rock replaces the ringing, just barely being able to catch a glimpse of the deathly mixture going past where Tighnari and you once were. You took a moment to take a few deep breaths before whispering, “I told you so.”

You went to laugh but were silenced by Tighnari smashing his lips against yours. His warm lips contrasted with the biting cold. You stayed still, eyes widening and face heating up from the suddenness of it all. It wasn’t until he pulled away that you realized what happened. He pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly.

“Shut up you big lummox. I’m relieved you’re okay.”

[phantomlifes]

505 ft. steve. ((just imagining showing up to steve’s house post break up makes me a wreck))

you were at a party in the neighborhood. one you certainly didn’t want to be at, but your friends had dragged you anyway. if they’re gonna be pushy, you’re gonna get blackout drunk and make it their problem. that was your spiteful philosophy for the night.

you started drinking almost immediately, taking a shot whenever you noticed yourself looking down the street at steve’s house. nope. you broke up with him for a reason. you’re not going through this again. you were snapped out of your drunken thoughts when a girl bumped into you, spilling her drink all over you. and she laughed.

“what the fuck?” you snarled, spilling your own drink over her. next thing you know, you’re being tackled to the ground, her long nails digging into your skin as she slaps you across the face. you’re too drunk to register the pain at the moment, pulling her hair to get her off of you, kicking upwards, doing anything you could do. the sound of police sirens finally got her up, carelessly kicking the side of your face as she ran. that one you felt. you slowly pulled yourself up off the ground, now drunk with a concussion, looking for your friends; who were nowhere to be found.

fuck.

you really did not want to do this. but you were desperate, drunk, concussed, and not looking to be arrested. you carried yourself as fast as you could diagonally down the street to steve’s house.

he was already at the window, watching the commotion down the street, as he caught a familiar silhouette wearing the doc martens he bought stalking toward him. fuck. he sighed and went to the door, ready to say something incredibly snarky, ready to give you a piece of his mind, ready to make you regret why you—

and he could see through the window of the door that you’re bleeding. he opens it immediately. “what the fuck?” he asks as gently as he could.

“i’m sorry.” you looked up at him, and the pain and the drinks caught up to you. your eyes filled with tears and his heart sank to his knees. “i…i was at that party and…” you sniffed. “my friends ditched, me alright? laugh all you-“

“why is your cheek bleeding?” he interrupted you in a softer voice than you expected, pointing at the shallow cut on your cheek. he doesn’t wait for you to answer, he simply puts a hand on your back and guides you inside.

“look i just…” you hiss as steve touches your jaw where you were kicked.

“sorry!” he put his hands in his pockets so the urge to take care of you would subside. he knew that wouldn’t do shit, though. “what were you saying?”

“i…i need a ride home.” you take a deep breath, cutting to the chase. “i’m drunk, and i got in a fight, and i’m kinda sure i have a concussion, and i’m a fucking mess.” you rambled, your voice on the verge of tears.

“woah, woah…” he put his hands up. “a concussion? who the fuck were you fighting?” he asks, a hint of protectiveness still left in his voice. he guides you to the kitchen and plants his hands on your waist, and your heart quickens at the thought of the last time he touched you like that. but he just sat you down on his counter.

why were you disappointed?

“you don’t get into fights.” he grabs a package of frozen vegetables from the freezer and holds it to your jaw, in such close proximity to you that you could see his brown eyes burning with a feeling you couldn’t place. “who the fuck were you fighting?” he asked again, this time in a softer tone. he’s not gonna let this go.

you sigh. “it was stupid alright? i don’t even know her name.” you look down, ashamed of yourself now. “she spilled her drink on me and just laughed, and it was so petty. i did the same to her, next thing i know, i’m on the floor.” you recounted. “look, i know it was ridiculous, berate me all you want-“

“berate you?” he was visibly taken aback. “why would i berate you?”

“you have a habit of talking down to people when they’ve made bad decisions.” you said quietly, shrugging. he takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. he wants to defend himself, but he’s not gonna argue with you in this state. “so can you please just…drive me home?” you asked, almost pathetically.

he shook his head, looking into your eyes again. “if you get out of my car and something happens to you in the middle of the night because you’re actually concussed, you know i would drive myself crazy.” he murmured the last part in a low voice. “not happening. you’re staying here for the night.”

“steve…that’s not necessary….” you trail off as you feel his large hands on your face again, one on your cheek, the other cradling the back of your head to look at your eyes in the light. “yup.” he answers simply, nodding to himself. “your pupils are dilated, it’s absolutely necessary, princess.” your pet name creeps out of his lips quickly out of old habit. it pierces through your heart and warms it up at the same time.

he gets a small bandage to put on your cheek from another cabinet, holding your face again. if he wasn’t such a mother hen, you would swear he was doing this on purpose. “there.” he says. “you should get some rest.” he leans back. “you can have my bed, i’ll take the couch.” he starts to walk away. you hop off the counter.

“it’s your house, i’ll take the couch.” you argued, following him as he sets up pillows.

“you’re the guest, i’ll take the couch.” he argued right back. stubborn, quick bastard.

you don’t argue and resign to his bedroom, where he shows you any changes that were made that you might need to know about in the two years you haven’t seen it. before he goes out the door, you grab his hand.

“i’m gonna regret asking this…” you mumble to yourself. “but stay with me? just for the night? it would be better for your….pseudo-nursing.” you blush, and he smirks at your comment.

“of course, princess.”

[i-walk-in-air]

My hand slipped~

“I like small things.” The warframe says, a crystal bud in the earliest stages of bloom pinched between his digits.

The bud would look small in any average bot's servo, but in the triple changer's hold, small is an understatement. The sight is ridiculous..... If impressive. A testament to the mech's control over his strength.

The diminutive thing glittered as it's stem was delicately rolled back and forth, reflecting rainbow hues into red optics.

The big mech continues to admire the colors, not bothering to flinch when a cluster of tangled cables and fluid lines are tugged free of their little nook within his chassis and left exposed to the cool evening air. His contemplative smile is steadfast and the crystal bud remains unshattered.

“You don’t say.” Gears grumbles as he begins to disentangle the cables and clamp damaged fluid lines shut. Primus knows the big mech lost more energon than the entirety of the mini’s own frame possessed. Now even the smallest of leaks risk lulling Astrotrain into an emergency stasis.

The purple mech gives an affirmative hum, his gaze then slides to the Autobot and his harried work.

“Why are you helping me?” Astrotrain asks.

“Of all the–!” Gears’s vents expel an irritated puff of air and he mutters, “In case it escaped your notice, I’m stranded on an uninhabited planet. My ship totaled. Absolutely wrecked! Fortunately, a person with a space shuttle alt mode is stranded here with me. Less fortunately, he’s a Con. But by some miracle he rather play with flowers than crush me. Too bad he ALSO rather play with flowers than stop himself from bleeding out. How are we supposed to get off this Primus forsaken rock if you're underfueled, huh?”  He shoves the bundle of lines and cables back into their rightful place. And maybe he does so with a bit more force than is necessary. “If you weren’t so big, you’d’ve gone grey by now!”

Astrotrain chuckles. Just like his voice, it’s an all encompassing sound with a slight echo type quality to it. Only, this sound rattles his internals along with the mini digging around inside them.

Gears curses, trying to steady himself. Coated in oil, coolant, and energon as he was, it took effort to avoid slipping.

“Once again, my size serves me well.” The triplechanger's chuckle peters off into a sigh, “Stature is a point of pride among Decepticons. A sign of strength and innate power one cannot achieve through any length of training.”

Of course it is.

Even to Autobots, bigger frames are better. For the time being. They’re at war after all. The only real draw to minibots and lithe frames are their lesser drain on resources.

Gears rolls his optics. “Telling me you’re a real catch, are you?”

“I suppose…..” Astrotrain smirks and looks back to the crystal bud. “Even among warframes, there are so few that can match, much less exceed, my size…… Makes it difficult to imagine myself with a bigger partner.”

“Oh boo-hoo.” The mini chides.

He’s begining to think he had a better chance escaping this planet with smoke signals than wasting his energy on the triplechanger.

He growls, “Big mech can’t find someone bigger to hold him.”

“Weren’t you listening?”

Gears feels something settle against one of the armored nodes protruding from his helm. He just knows it’s that crystal bud sitting there. Perfectly balanced.

He tilts his helm up and the bud slips. It shatters somewhere behind him against the other mech’s abdominal plating.

Astrotrain is staring at him. Expression soft.

Then he smiles.

“I like small things.”

The mini is suddenly aware of a massive servo coming in behind him. Four blunt digits curl around his left side while the fifth slips under his right arm. Gears is pulled up as the purple mech shifts damaged plating back around the inner workings of his chassis. The sizeable puncture is no longer weeping fluids and spitting sparks.

Astrotrain brings his other servo up under the red and blue mech. Gears finds he can sit quite comfortably in the triplechanger’s palm. He also finds himself at optic level with said triplechanger.

“And you-” Astrotrain pauses. He retracts the servo holding Gears’s sides, gently (ever so gently) caressing the minibot’s frame in the process. “-are quite small. Even for an Autobot."

[prototypesteve]

Late thaw.

⚠️CW: I spend some time here, processing my complicated and raw feelings of resentment for the early-life developmental effects of undiagnosed neurodivergences and undiscovered asexuality & aromanticism. Skip this post if you sometimes (even secretly) don’t like who you are because of what you are.⚠️

So… thanks to a toxic mix of late-diagnosed autism, ADHD, and a pair of stoic parents (British and Japanese) I didn’t even begin to learn to express my feelings until my mid 20s, and until my early 30s I was able to talk about my feelings at a level you’d expect from someone in their early teens.

Now, that would probably be kind of cute in a “quirky shy nerdy guy” way if I weren’t also aromantic and asexual without knowing I was aromantic or asexual because I didn’t know anything that serious about myself because I didn’t have the emotional development to even know that I ought to know things like that about myself by my mid-20s.

That’s the background/context for the next bit.

The first book I read about asexuality was Ace by Angela Chen. I had pieced together that I was aromantic and asexual a few months prior, and everyone was (at the time) hyping Ace and Loveless as the two best “starter” books. Ace was a straightforward read. The only hard bit came when she discussed the complexities racialized aces faced, but I pushed through and finished it feeling like I had a good foundation to start having conversations, etc. so, naturally I grabbed the Audible copy of Loveless, as my summer road-trip vacation read. (This was back in 2023.)

I had to pull my car over and scream and have a cathartic cry every few chapters. Not just because the book was such a beautiful depiction of asexual self-discovery, but because oh my fucking God, it hurt so much to see such beautiful examples of people able to have grown up conversations about their feelings, and express their feelings to one another, and fuck, it hurt realizing I didn’t have that until well after some of the most tumultuous years of my life.

I felt like I missed every important conversation I was supposed to have while I was growing up.

I felt doubly robbed. Here I was going through the acceptance that love was for me, like Georgia put it in the novel, a mirage. And on top of that I felt robbed of years of ordinary emotional closeness with friends because of my fucking neurodivergences.

I haven’t talked about this, and honestly maybe this isn’t something to talk about, because it might dig up some feelings in other people like me, but I’m just tired of not talking about it. There really are days where I feel like the mix of my neurodivergences and my orientations robbed me of the kinds of friendships I see in Oseman’s novels.

[I’m not saying this next bit to show off. I’m saying this next bit because it leaves me feeling conflicted about having the audacity to feel bad about missing out on a richer emotional life:] I’ve had a phenomenal life. I have amazing friends. My emotional underdevelopment probably gave me the extra bandwidth to become very, very good at my career and my hobbies, and my apparent distance probably also made me a convenient “safe” everyday friend for most people I know. Meanwhile, for my present-day friends, my late development probably made me seem like someone who hasn’t grown emotionally distant with age. I’m not saying my neurodivergences or orientations wrecked my life. They gave me lots of amazing experiences and material perks. I’m blessed. But despite all that, I still just wish I had the ability to talk to people back when I really, really needed to talk to people.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I should probably have reworked it five times over before posting it, but I’m binging Heartstopper seasons 1 & 2 before season 3 drops, and having to pause each episode every ten minutes to silently have a five second meltdown, remembering things that could have gone better.

Feels good to get that out.

[alastor-simp-page]

The Deal/Chains Prompt Charlastor - A little peek

I feel so bad. I wasn't able to finish it in time but I gotta put something out. I'm scrambling to finish it. Yippee! It's definitely interesting...I'm trying out a new writing style.

They're a bit OOC but I was inspired. And well, you all voted for Charlie owning Alastor's soul so that's what I'm trying to craft. This is for sure steering into dubious territory.

You walked into the room as anyone does. With such a simple action as that, I can glean enough information to know what I’m walking into. Gait, pace, smile or lack of, the way your chest rises and falls. Your eyes looked everywhere but me. Curious. You were the one to ask for me after all. And here you were, rubbing your bare arm and practically stumbling over your feet. 

Wearing a dress shirt with suspenders? Quite a curious thing for a lady of your stature. The way your hair falls over your shoulder tells me you had your nails digging into your scalp not even seconds ago. 

I suppose being the Princess of Hell was no small feat. And meeting the Radio Demon? No wonder you’re a wreck. A beautiful mess if that’s what I could call you? 

I stand, as it's the gentlemanly thing to do and put my arm out for you. I grin, “Why, hello there, darling. You must be Princess Charlotte! Correct?” You simply smile up at me, that sort of nervous one where the smile doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

“Yep, yep!” You say and quickly take my hand. Your hand is soft and warm, something that would melt in my grip if I grasped it too long. You let go far too soon, letting my hand fall back to my side. “But I go by Charlie. Just Charlie now,” You insist. I arch a brow. A name either meant to deny her parents wishes or to establish some sort of dominance in the hierarchy with a male name. I don’t pry, it's rude, after all! 

The fire in the fireplace roars in agony, tinting your blonde waves in a crimson glow, the same hue of those naive eyes. “So…um,” You kick your feet, something to distract you from your words. I understand, darling. My finger swirls around the sphere of my radio cane. An unfortunate habit I’ve contracted. “My Dad set up this meeting and well, I’m sure you know what it's about, right?”

Not simply your Dad…the King of Hell, the Little Guy downstairs as those upstairs liked to call him. Of course, I knew what it was about. It didn’t take a genius to ask around with that ever so charming (and sinister) smile of mine. Your little passion project: that ridiculous hotel. Redeeming the damned! There’s a reason why Purgatory was disbanded. 

I decided not to tell you that. See if you slip up or leave a few details out. I’m sure you will or you may blabber on for an eternity. “No, I have not, Charlie” is what I answered. 

You let out a little squeal and start pawing through your bag. Oh dear, this may have been a mistake. My ears perk up at that sound unwillingly, those blasted things. However that little squeal, that little sound, it's so enticing. I wonder how many sounds I can entice out of you by the time I’m done with you? Don’t you think so, dear Charlie? Make you scream? Cry? Moan my name? 

No, no, no. I’m getting quite too far ahead of myself. I haven’t even seen what you want. What our relationship pans out to be! Hah! Not that it isn’t hard to guess: help. Something a darling little damsel in distress needs I suppose?

You started to ramble on, “So…the Happy Hotel is all about redeeming sinners and I really…” I’m half listening to you. The rest of my senses devoted to the way you practically danced as you talked. The way you swirled and twirled, gripping the papers in your grasp, pictures drawn from the likes of a 4 year old high on Coca-Cola. It was your drawings, I knew, crudely crafted and having the right to be hung in a modern art museum. Still adorable nonetheless. 

However I’m sure no drawings, no art pieces, and no paintings could ever fully illustrate you. The artist would never pick the right color for the rose of your cheeks nor capture the flow of your hair. And certainly never capture that bubble of happiness you became. 

You cared. Care, love, cherish, what alien words in a world such as Hell. And no more, the daughter of Sin itself. Spawn of the Devil and of the treacherous first woman: Lilith. You wanted to help sinners. The worst of the worst. It was almost laughable, downright absurd. You? Daughter of the deviled goat man who offered the apple. Leading to sin taking a hold of the world? Guilt must be gnawing at your soul, the weight of your father’s actions falling onto your shoulders, the burden of family. Or simply because you cared? Because you wanted to help the worst of the worst have a chance to knock on the pearly gates? You’re a strange one, dear.

“So! What do you think, Alastor,” You ask. My name rolls off your tongue like it's etched there, like it belongs there. I rather like it.

I roll back my shoulders, hands twisting my bowtie into place. “It doesn’t matter what I think, dear.” It truly doesn’t. “Your father asked me to offer my services to you. So…do you require them?” Please say you do. 

That bubbly demeanor of yours drops and flips your smile into a frown. “Well, I need to know if you believe in me or not.” You say. Fair enough.

I stand and cross around the coffee table. Your crimson eyes widen at the movement. I aim to surprise, I suppose. I plop myself down beside you and you simply stare at me, shifting an inch. There’s no need to be afraid of me, darling. Well, I suppose it's fair.  

“Darling, what I’ve seen so far is a woman who deeply believes in her dream.” I mince my words, cutting them up in tasty pieces for you to devour. “There’s nothing more powerful than a person who cares. Truly cares about their cause. About their passion. And you seem to do just that.” I tap you on the shoulder. A small touch, nothing too much from stranger to stranger. I can see you’re listening, intently. Oh, you poor dear. Your eyes are wide, surprised. Has no one believed in you before? “Of course, I believe in you, Charlie!” I land it home, driving the stake in deep.

Oh, I can just see it through your glass porcelain face. You want someone to believe in you, don’t you? The way your rosy cheeks deepen in color tells me all I need. Hah, you’re desperate, aren’t you? Letting the Radio Demon of all people to encourage you?

“Thanks…” you say sheepishly. You’re bursting with joy. I know you are. You’re simply too ashamed to admit it. I can see it in the way you shift, look away, and how your chest heaves. You’re excited. Someone! Finally someone! You must think. 

“Again, I’ll offer my services again. Your father wanted you to meet with me for…well, my popularity with my radio station, correct? Get the word out to folks?” I tell you. It is what your father had told me quite stiffly. I guess it must have been your idea, no doubt. 

You rub your neck. You’re…unsure? I tilt my head. What are you about to do, dear? “Well, I said that at first but meeting you…I have a different idea.” I grin. You’re an interesting gal, aren’t you? Changing things up? Perhaps you’re less predictable than I previously thought.

“And what is that?” I lean in close and you lean away. My, my, my, you’re still a skittery little thing, aren’t you, darling? 

“I think you’re a nice guy but my Dad doesn’t really like you at all. And well, he only trusts someone if they're on a leash,” You say. Oh dear. This is going in a direction that I would not go in. A leash? That only meant one thing and it wasn’t something I was willing to bargain for today.

“You are aware there’s little trust if one must be put on a leash for there to be trust,” I say. It’s true. A leash is a walking prison. Move from place to place, try as you will to stretch it and it will still yank you back.

You murmur to yourself, “I know…” However your eyes sparkle. “But I think you’re going to like my offer! A deal if you will!”

Deal? Now that’s what I wanted to hear! My specialty! My hands weave together, cracking a knuckle one by one. You stare. You’re unsure. That seems to be a theme which always etches your face. The way your eyes crinkle and how your lips twitch. 

I have you just where I want you. I stab my cane into the floor, you flinch, and I rub my digit on the sphere where my good old mic blinks idly. “So, what are your terms, dear?” Words I plan to switch into: what are my terms. 

Something flashes within your crimson eyes. Something beyond that naive little princess you are. I couldn’t catch it in time, it slipped just as quickly from my grasp. What was that? Perhaps nothing. I hope nothing.

You stare back. I can feel the pressure of your gaze seemingly pressing into the space between my eyes like the cold barrel of a rifle. You’re getting bolder by the minute aren’t you? You clear your throat and fold your hands neatly in your lap. How princess-y of you.

“My terms are that…” Your eyes dart away. Good. You’re nervous again. Just how I like you. “...you can assist me on a much more personal level if…” Well, go on! I’m listening, darling! We may have all eternity but all this stalling is getting rather out of hand. “...my Dad said I can only make you my hotelier if I own your soul,” You say.

(Subject to change)

[rfsak2]

Spitfire, Pt. 8

So… this is short on words but hella long on feels, so I hope that doesn’t bother you. I didn’t want to write that last battle scene because next chapter is likely to be hella battle orientated. I also didn’t add smut this chapter because, honestly the Dixons are separated for much of this chapter and post-t*rture smut feels gross.

Let me know if you like it!

Spitfire, Pt. 8

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, lots of bad language words

Part 7

**

“Olivia, I’m not trying to be mean or anythin’ but I could use a drink. I don’t give a fuck what it tastes like but I’d rather not have to break in here for more, y’feel me? Just give me whatever will get me drunker faster.”

Olivia stared at her and Mitzi was acutely aware that there was more compassion than the usual trepidation in her gaze. “M-Mitzi-“

Mitzi shook her head. “I don’t wanna talk. I just wanna drink. I’m not interested in cleaning out the alcohol store, though, so I would like you to give me whatever you can, preferably something to get me shitfaced ASAP.”

She sighed and leant over to dig through a low cabinet. She emerged with a bottle of whiskey, about three-quarters full, and passed it to Mitzi. “Take it.”

Mitzi nodded and sucked in a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

“If you want to talk about-“

Mitzi shook her head and took a swig from the bottle as she shut the pantry door behind her. 

By the time she made it to the basement she shared with Daryl, she had drained about a quarter of the remaining liquor. She hadn’t eaten in over a day at that point, so it hit her like a wrecking ball, robbing her of her balance and making her head spin. 

She closed the door behind her and the first thing she saw was a small pile of Daryl’s clothes she had cleaned a couple days ago sitting innocuously on the corner of the bed waiting for him to put them away.

She crumpled.

“Nah, you don’t kill them. Not until you try a little.”

Daryl caught her eyes, shaking his head despite the hands in his hair.

The dimpled asshole must have noticed and followed Daryl’s gaze. “So, Spitfire and Sleeveless, huh?” He grinned. “You still ain’t worried, pretty girl?”

She sucked in a breath, forehead pressed to the floor.

She felt her body tense. 

“Spitfire, no! Don’t y’fuckin’ move!” Daryl fought against the hands pulling him back in line. “Stay there!”

She felt Carl grab at her arm.

Negan laughed and sauntered over to her. “You must really have a temper, darlin’. All these people trying to keep you from doing the colossally stupid thing I can see boiling up in your very pretty, Disney Princess green eyes.”

She spat at his feet.

She wailed.

“I don’t like killing ladies. But you ain’t acting very lady-like.” He made a small moue of dissatisfaction. “That’s unfortunate.”

She bared her teeth. “Fuck you.”

He grinned. “Between you and your man here, I’m obliged to restore order.” He shrugged and started pacing the line again. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

She pushed herself up, only to fall back against the bedroom door. 

She sobbed, images of Glenn and Abraham playing merry havoc with her ability to breathe. She reached for the whiskey and chugged. When the burn was too much, she dropped the bottle, clumsily righting it and pouring whiskey all over her jeans. 

She wiped at it, her hand coming back bloody.

“Look at what you made me do.”

In a rush of frantic energy, she shot her feet and tore her jeans off, catching sight of dark stains on the right side of her Metallica t-shirt. She tore that off as well, throwing it on top of her jeans and kicking the articles of clothing blindly away. 

Her knees collapsed under her and she hit the floor hard. 

“There are rules and the rules matter.” He grinned. “I am truly sorry.”

She didn't know how long she sat there, just underwear, pieces of that night replaying in her head, broken only by her sobs and great swigs of whiskey.

Her throat burned, her eyes burned. Her hip hurt from where she hit the floor.

Her bedroom door opened and Rosita poked her head in. She breathed harshly and turned over her shoulder. 

“She’s here. I have her. Go back upstairs, Carl.”

“No, I want to help. I want to be here for her-” She could barely hear him, muffled through the door. 

Shame lit her up like a Christmas tree but she couldn’t make her body move.

Rosita shook her head. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, flaco. Go upstairs. You can come down later when she’s ready.”

He must have listened because Rosita closed the door behind her a second later.

Mitzi sucked down more whiskey. 

“This is what we are going to do?” Rosita crossed her arms over her chest. “Sit here and drink?”

Mitzi sucked in a breath, tipped the bottle.

Rosita snatched it away from her, waiting for the liquid to settle to see how much was left. There was maybe a fourth of the bottle left. She had drank more than she thought. 

“How much was in here?”

Mitzi shrugged.

Rosita sucked on her tongue. “Oh, hell no. We ain’t doing this shit. Get up.”

Mitzi shook her head, reaching for the bottle. 

“Get up, Mitzi.”

Mitzi motioned for the bottle. “No. Give me the bottle.”

“No.” She marched into the bathroom and Mitzi could hear the glug glug of the whiskey being poured down the drain.

“Olivia was savin’ that for somethin’. Pulled it outta some special cabinet for me.” Mitzi groused.

“Oh, I know.” Rosita propped her hip against the doorframe. “Olivia told me that you had gone to the pantry and demanded liquor.” The bottle clanged loudly against the metal of the trash can. “That’s how I knew I needed to find you.”

“I didn’t demand anythin’. I asked. Nicely.” Mitzi made a face. “I even said please.”

She snorted. “She was shaking when I talked to her. Though I guess she seemed more worried for you than scared of you.”

“She’s scared of everythin’. She shakes like a leaf when I so much as sneeze near her.” Mitzi rolled her eyes. “It’s pathetic.”

Rosita chuckled dryly. “I guess. But then you’re not doing much better, sat here like some sad sack of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Mitzi huffed, the words lacking heat.

“No, fuck you.” She spat. “You drinking yourself to death isn’t going to make anything better and it isn’t going to get Daryl back.”

“Me doin’ anything but this could get him killed though.”

Rosita huffed, frustrated. “He isn’t going to kill him. You called it at the church. That cabron is just a small-time big man trying to hold onto control. He needs Daryl to do that.”

“Until he doesn’t.”

“Stop it.” Rosita tossed her head. “Stop this defeatist bullshit.”

“We are defeated. We are done. What do you fuckin’ expect from me, Rosa?” Mitzi made a gesture that would’ve come across as aggressive if she wasn’t drunk and half-naked. “What is it I can do for you so you’ll leave me the fuck alone?”

“What can you do for me?” She sneered. “Why would I need anything from you?”

“Peachy. Fuck off.”

“You think I wanna be here babysitting you?”

Mitzi sighed. “If not then why are you?”

Rosita put her hand on Mitzi’s head and leaned in. “Because you need me. And I need you. And we need each other. All of us.” 

Mitzi scoffed, tears gathering in her eyes again.

Rosita stood and started rifling through her drawers. She made a small noise of triumph when she found Mitzi’s clothes in one of the drawers. She pulled out a fresh t-shirt and a pair of leggings and tossed them at Mitzi. 

Mitzi pushed them off her lap. 

Rosita groaned. “So you’re just gonna sit there in your fuckin’ underwear?”

Mitzi scoffed. “Is there somethin’ else you wanted me t’do?”

“Miss me with the fuckin’ pity party.” Rosita sighed. “I lost someone too. And Daryl’s still alive.”

“I know.” Mitzi sucked in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry-“

Rosita squatted in front of her, softening, tears in her eyes. “He wasn’t ever gonna pick you. You know that right?”

“He’s a coward.” Mitzi blinked, looking down at her hands. “He was always gonna pick the biggest threat. Or who he thought was the biggest threat.”

She nodded. “That’s right. And you being a woman of rather small stature, he was never going to think it was you. Even if everyone who knows you knows that you were one of the biggest threats there. He was never going to pick you.”

“I know that but-“

Rosita shook her head decisively, wiping delicately at her eyes. “But nothing. He did that, no one made him, no one forced his hand. He did that.”

“I’m pretty sure the bloody mess I made of his outpost didn’t help.”

“He didn’t kill them because of the outpost. He killed Glenn and-“ she sucked in a breath, “and Abraham because, without fear, he has no power.”

“And the fact that I led an operation that killed three or four dozen men.” Mitzi gestured agitatedly. “We can’t ignore that. I did this.”

“I ain’t ignoring anything, puta. It’s just that not everything is about you.”

Mitzi sucked in a breath like she had been slapped. “I know that.”

“Do you? Seems to me like you’re sitting here throwing yourself a pity party.”

Mitzi swallowed, tears gathering in her eyes. “I…I don’t know what else to do, Rosa. I don’t know what I can do that won’t get someone else killed.”

“Well, I do.” Mitzi was silent and Rosita continued. “We need to make him afraid.”

Mitzi looked up. Rosita was grinning ferally and Mitzi frowned. “What?”

“He’s already terrified of you, chiquita. I saw it, Rick saw it. I doubt he’s ever met a woman like you. So we’re gonna leverage that and take that asshole down.” Rosita stood. “So get up. We have to get ready.”

**

She walked up to the gates and nodded at the person standing guard. “Hey, don’t know if you remember me.”

“Here to see Maggie and Sasha?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.” She sucked a deep breath in and tried to force down the nausea that was already making itself known.

The gates opened and she smiled politely up at the guard. “Thanks, man.”

He nodded. “Heard what happened. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed and bobbed her head, throat tight. “Yeah.. ‘ppreciate that.”

A woman approached Mitzi and smiled softly. “Just know, people here at Hilltop are thinking about y’all.” Mitzi recognized her as the pretty black lady they had saved after the car accident. Mitzi struggled to remember her name- Birdie -and she reached out to squeeze Mitzi’s forearm. “Thank you for saving us and getting Craig and Andy back alive that night.” 

Mitzi blinked and breathed. The woman wrapped her in a quick hug.

“Mitzi?”

She forced herself to breathe, giving the Hilltop woman a quick closed-mouth smile as she walked away. “Hey, Maggie. How are you holdin’ up?”

Maggie wrapped her in a tight hug and Mitzi squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe through her nose. 

“I’m- well I’m not okay but I’m alright. How are you?”

Mitzi shrugged. Sasha approached with a tearful smile and pulled Mitzi into another hug. She felt her breath stutter in her lungs.

Mitzi squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” She forced air out her lungs in a quick rush. “I’m sorry. I knew this could happen and I did it anyway and I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

Maggie started shaking her head, but Mitzi couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry that I convinced us to take out the outpost. If we hadn’t, maybe they-“

Sasha pulled her into another hug. “Negan killed them, Mitzi. He did it and he probably would’ve done it regardless.”

“But I knew-“

“Nothing.” Maggie dipped to catch her eyes. “You knew nothing for sure. And even if you did know, Negan still chose to do this. He doesn’t get to skate by accountability.”

Sasha rubbed at Mitzi’s face with gentle fingers and Mitzi realized she had started crying. “He’s a murderer, Mitz. He was gonna do it anyway. And if you had had any choice, you wouldn’t have chosen this. He took your husband.” Sasha smiled gently. “I’m not saying either one is worse, but we don’t have to worry about what’s happening to Abraham and Glenn.”

Mitzi’s lower lip trembled and Sasha pulled her into another hug.

“I will kill him. I’m gonna get D back and I’m gonna kill him.” Mitzi nodded against Sasha’s shoulder, blinking away tears. “I promise. There is nothing I can do to make this right, to bring them back, but I will kill him.”

“You don’t have to make it right.” Maggie pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

Mitzi swallowed. “It feels-“

“He as much as said it, Mitz. He needed to make a big show, tamp down the revolution. He was gonna kill two of us no matter what.”

“I know, I do. Rosita tried very hard to knock that into my head yesterday.” Mitzi rubbed at her forehead. “But I’m still the reason why he needed to make a big show.”

Sasha smiled. “What did I tell you those pricks on the motorcycles said to me, Daryl and Abraham?”

Mitzi frowned. “What?”

“With the fuel tanker. What did they say to us? Do you remember?”

“To give them all your stuff?” Mitzi shrugged. 

“That they normally kill one of us.” Sasha nodded. “They were gonna do it anyway. At least we took some of them out. Didn’t roll over and show them our bellies.”

“These assholes have been turning up the pressure around here for months.” Maggie squeezed Mitzi’s shoulder. “Like you said, they would’ve come for us at some point. You and Rick would’ve fought them off and then they would’ve come back. We were gonna end up here, one way or another.”

Mitzi sighed and nodded.

Sasha smiled. “Besides, you’ll have a hard time killing him if I kill him first.” 

Mitzi smiled sadly. “And the student has become the master.”

Sasha wrapped her in a tight hug and pressed her forehead to Mitzi. “Maybe you can come with, be my spotter.”

“I’d be honored to be your spotter.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around the two of them. “We need to do more than just kill him. We need to take them all down. To do that we’re gonna need to wake Rick up.”

Mitzi nodded. “I can do that.”

**

“It’s just like a ghillie suit, y’ big baby.”

Mitzi breathed deep and dug her hands into the walker’s gut, retching a little as she spread it over the poncho she had scavenged. When she was sufficiently covered, she tore off the latex gloves she was wearing and pulled her scope out her pocket.

She settled back against the tree and considered the Sanctuary below her. She made notes and took a picture with an old polaroid camera. She observed for another ten minutes, watching as people came and went. 

Checking an old analog watch she had borrowed from Olivia, she leant forward, observing through her scope as it approached what she assumed could be a likely time for a shift change. 

She scratched some shorthand she had learned to use in the army on a piece of scrap paper, noting how many people changed spaces, what spaces were changed. 

She was especially interested in the odd walker barricade the Saviors had built in front of the main building. Mitzi sketched it quickly, taking note of how the residents of the Sanctuary navigated the minefield they had created.

When everyone seemed to settle, the activity coming to a smooth lull, she turned her scope to the area on the opposite side of the old factory, looking for another vantage point. She identified a new perch and moved out, dodging walkers quietly as they wandered past her. 

Settling into her new perch, a broken out window in a building half a mile away from the Sanctuary. From this angle, she could see a loading dock into the back of the factory complex. 

She sat and watched the loading dock for fifteen minutes. People brought things out, people carried things in. The varied baskets, boxes and totes suggested different origins if not scavenged goods. 

Mitzi jotted that down and took a picture of the loading dock. She turned and sketched out the rough layout of the system of roads and gates into the backside of the complex and took a picture. 

When she felt like she had that half of the building pretty well covered, she moved to a new vantage point, one that covered the front half of the building from a different viewpoint.

She lifted her scope and felt the immediate well of tears. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. 

There in the courtyard, Daryl had joined the people wrangling the walker minefield. He looked beat up with the beginning of a black eye and a split lip. At first, she thought he was moving sluggishly, which hinted at injuries she couldn’t see.

But then she saw him look up, squinting up and around him.

She smiled. Despite the chaos, other people in dirty sweats fighting to manage walkers and Daryl was getting the lay of the land. 

He was casing the joint. 

God, she loved her husband so fuckin’ much.

**

“There she is!” 

It took everything in her considerable willpower not to flip him the bird. Or break his scrawny neck. Or throw a knife at his smiling face.

There was a reason Rick took her knife before sending her out here.

She caught sight of Daryl in dirty sweats, face bruised. Dwight stood near him in Daryl’s vest, and she had to take a deep, grounding breath. 

“Spitfire Dixon!” Negan smiled up at her. “Never did catch your name, honey. Daryl, there, called you Spitfire that night. Figured it’d be okay for me to as well.” 

“My name is Mitzi Dixon.” She spared him a disinterested glance. “My husband is the only one who calls me Spitfire. So it is absolutely not okay for you to call me that.”

He seemed to pause, foot on the first step. 

She glanced at Rick, who shook his head subtly. Mitzi no.

Mitzi yes.

She glanced down at Negan and saw the moment he had to force the smile back on his face. 

“I guess that’s fair. I did kill two of your people- your family.” He grinned. 

She arched an eyebrow. “What d’ya want?”

“My god, you’re fuckin’ ice cold, huh?” He grinned over his discomfort. “Where did that fiery, sexy, little thing from that night go?”

She hummed. She looked back at Daryl.

“Gotta tell you, you’re not really supposed to be looking at him… like, at all.”

She turned to him, one eyebrow arched over hard eyes. “You gonna stop me?” 

He swallowed. “Nah… I admire your commitment to your husband. I’m just a big ole softie, what can I say? Let love win n’all.” He smiled, dimples and white teeth. 

She hummed, turned back to Daryl.

“You are so goddamn pretty. Hard to believe you were in spec ops.”

She rolled her eyes. 

He grinned. “Say…How in the hell did he pull you?” He stepped up onto the porch, making a production out of leering at her. She dug her nails into the bannister. “You are smoking hot. I mean really…the tattoo game is strong. If I didn’t think you would try to slit my throat in my sleep, break Dear Daryl out, I might offer you a special deal. I don’t think I’d mind marrying an Army Ranger. A sniper, at that. Something kinda erotic about it.”

She didn’t spare him a glance.

“Fuck, you’re so cool.” He chuckled. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lift a hand. Felt it land heavy on her shoulder. She kept her eyes on Daryl. 

“That’s right. Heard you were a sniper.” He entered her line of sight, getting as close as he dared, leaning on the bannister. “Here’s me wondering where your rifle went.” He looked down at Olivia’s notes. “One M110 SASS. Sassy gun for a sassy lady.”

“Lost it after the outpost.” She shifted so she could keep an eye on Daryl. “You know, where I used it to kill three, four dozen of your people.”

He clenched his jaw. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Got separated, caught up in a herd on the way back.”

“That true?” 

“You callin’ me a liar?” He flinched away from her direct stare, the hand on her shoulder shook almost imperceptibly. 

Rick nodded, eyes hard on hers.

“That’s a shame.” He shrugged, sighed and leaned into her space. “Woulda liked to see it in action. Send you out on a couple of errands for me.”

“Yeah, it’s a real shame.” She drawled, monotone and bored, catching his eyes and holding them again. His grin faltered. “Woulda been mighty useful right ‘bout now.”

He lifted his hand like he had touched a hot stove. “I guess that’s it then.” 

“Guess so.”

He bit his lip. “You really aren’t afraid of much, are you?”

“No.”

“There’s gotta be something…” He leaned back. “I imagine if something happens to Daryl-”

She laughed.

“Don’t be fuckin’ dumb.” She smiled and met his eyes again. “Anything you do to my husband, I will return a hundred times over. If he even hints that someone shot him a dirty look, I will level whatever hole you call home. You can betcha ass on that.” She glanced at Daryl then back at Negan. “And lookit that, he’s lookin’ a little malnourished, a bit bruised up. You’ve already started the tab.”

“I like you even more when you speak.” Negan swallowed but forced a smile back on his face. “You sound real tough, babe, but with what weapons are you planning to carry out said return? I’m taking all of them.”

“Take ‘em. I don’t need ‘em.” She chuckled. “I ain’t worried.” 

Negan breathed deep and tongued at his lip. “I almost believe you.” 

“You should. It would be wise to do so.”

“Probably should take you with us then, if you’re a weapon.”

“Please do. I’ll get Daryl back quicker. Do most of the work for me.” She laughed meanly. “You won’t though. You take me with you and you dim assholes don’t make it back. I think you’re just smart enough to know that.”

“That so?” He swallowed and she laughed.

“Yeah, it is so. The only thing I haven’t decided is what t’do with your bodies when I’m done.” She shrugged, bright, cheery smile on her face. “I could leave your rotting corpses there to show the rest of your crew what happens when you fuck with me and mine. That way if anyone sacks up, tries to take over after you’re dead, they will know who’s comin’ for them. Or maybe let someone bury you so I have a grave to dance on. One way or another, I will obliterate any mention of you from this planet.” She turned away from him and thought better, turning back. “Oh, and you should know this,”

She pressed into his space, still speaking loud enough so his men, at least the ones who were close by could hear her. “You are fully outta your depth with me. You picked the wrong ginger, and I’m going make sure you know what a fantastic, fucked-up mistake you made. Whether, it’s me or someone else who takes the retribution outta your sorry hide, just know that I gleefully made it possible.”

He reached down and made a show of adjusting his belt. “Never popped a chubby being threatened. Toodaloo.” 

“You think you bad, honey, but we both know the truth. You’re just a small time warlord, the dictator of the week, and my list of confirmed kills was filled with motherfuckers like you well before the turn. Your bravado, as practiced as it is, ain’t foolin’ anyone. Not us, not your boys.” He turned over his shoulder and met her eyes. She smiled viciously and watched Negan take the porch stairs in one long step. She wiggled her fingers in a parody of a wave. “Bye now.”

Rick shot her a look. Negan was shaken.

“So remember, take care of my man.” She glanced at Dwight. “And keep your bitch at home. I ever catch him out, I won’t hesitate.”

Dwight chewed at his lip.

She turned back to Daryl and stared down into his eyes as long as she could as Daryl walked back toward the trucks. 

He seemed to shuffle, fumble a bit in the first couple steps, before regaining his footing and shooting her one last look.

Then she saw it. A small patch of white in the dark of the asphalt. 

She waited until she was sure they were gone and vaulted over the bannister. In the road, folded into the tiniest little triangle, was a piece of paper. 

She opened it with shaking hands. 

Love ya, D.

She took up watch at the front tower for the rest of the night.

Eventually, Rick was able to convince her to go inside and Rosita picked the splinters from under her nails.

**

Mitzi sat her hands on the back of the dining room chair. Rick looked up at her and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I want to say, first and foremost, that I know that you are doing what you think is right.” Mitzi nodded. “I know that and I know this shit hit you as hard as it hit the rest of us.”

Rick nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“And I’ve always trusted you and never felt that I had any reason not to.”

“Are you tellin’ me you are now?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” Mitzi moved to sit in the kitchen chair closest to him. “But we can’t, Rick. We can’t just let this happen.”

“Mitzi, he’s going to kill more of us.”

“Yes, he is. Regardless of what we do, whether we toe the line for the rest of our lives, whether we fight back or not, he will kill more of us. We need to prepare ourselves for that.”

Rick shook his head. “But I can make that happen faster by doing what I think you want me to.”

“I want you to lead us against him.” 

“Thought so.” He sighed. “Death, Mitzi. That’s where I’d be leading us.”

Mitzi shook her head. “Rick, you and I, we knew people like this, you arrested them, I killed them. Abusive, narcissistic assholes who say whatever they need to maintain control. He is prepared to walk the walk, I’ll give him that but he is not all powerful and I won’t let him scare me into thinking he is.” 

“He has Daryl, Mitzi. What you are thinking about doing could get him killed.”

She sucked in a breath. “I know it could.” She swallowed, eyes blinking away tears. “Could. I hope to god it doesn’t, but as long as it’s not a ‘will, I have hope.” She leaned in, holding his eyes. “The only thing I know for certain is that if we let this stand, more of us will die. He’ll feel slighted or disrespected or angry that one of his wives didn’t want fuck him, that Daryl won’t break, that I said something mean and hurt his feelings, that it rained on Sunday, and he will take it out on us. He’ll tell us that we can stop it, that we have choices, but we don’t.”

“We don’t know that.”

“No, what we know is that I gave him ample opportunity, ample reason to punish us- to punish me -and he didn’t. He didn’t do anything.”

Rick considered this for a short minute. “He’s afraid of you.” He nodded. “You shook him up and flouted his authority, he should’ve done something. Should’ve killed Daryl right there.”

“And he didn’t. He didn’t do anything when Carl shot at one of his men either.”

“Okay, that’s true. What do you think that means?”

Mitzi sighed. “It means that he isn’t who he said he is. And if we see that-“

“His men see it.” Rick sighed and nodded. “Okay, I see your point, but that’s a big if. That’s a gamble and I can’t, Mitzi. I can’t be responsible for more of my family dying.”

“That wasn’t your fault and it won’t be your fault if- when he kills more of us.” She smiled sadly. “I can’t make you feel less guilt but I will tell you what Maggie told me-“

“You went and saw Maggie?” Rick looked more anxious in a sudden rush. “What if someone followed you-“

“Who do you take me for, Richard Andrew?” She smiled crookedly. “You didn’t even know I was gone.”

“Fine.” Rick breathed out harshly, nodding. “What did Maggie say?”

“That Negan chose this. He did it. No matter what he says or who he blames, he chose this and he doesn’t get to escape accountability.”

Rick nodded vaguely. “Ok, but how? How do we do anything without putting us- our family -in danger?”

“We are already in danger, Rick. Right now, this very minute. There's not much we can do to not be in danger.”

“Fine. Say I take that as truth, what are we gonna do?”

She made a face and Rick groaned. “What did you do?”

“You’re gonna be pissed at me, but I took a detour down to the Sanctuary-“

“You what?”

She bit her lip. “I walked my happy ass down to the Sanctuary. I just wanted to get a lay of the land. No one saw me, I promise.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do you know that?”

“Because I stayed as far away as I could manage and still get a clear view. I used my scope-“

“The scope on the rifle you lost.”

“Rick, you knew that I didn’t lose it when you vouched for me in front of Negan. You also knew that I wasn’t going to let him take it.” Mitzi picked at her fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I wasn’t going to let them have it. We’re gonna need it.”

Rick sighed and reached out to squeeze her knee. “I know, Mitz. Where is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you that way you don’t have to worry about lying for me anymore than you already have.” She smiled and they were silent for a few moments. “I saw Daryl.”

Rick looked up at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. “He didn’t see me, but he was out in this courtyard area where Negan keeps walkers.”

“Was he okay?”

“He was…” she smiled. “He was casing the joint and not being very subtle about it. They haven’t broken him.”

“Good.” He laughed. “We’re gonna get him back.” He squeezed her knee again. “Don’t know how yet, but we will.”

She nodded. “That’s partially why I was there. I’m going to start making plans. I won’t tell you about them so they don’t make interacting with that asshole anymore difficult, but I can’t sit around here doin’ nothin’.”

**

“Stop.”

Mitzi snorted, eyebrow arched into her hairline, and moved to pass the woman standing guard in front of the house.

“I said stop!” The woman snarled and reached for Mitzi’s arm.

“I don’t care.” Mitzi stepped out of her reach. “This is my house.”

“Stop before I stop you.”

Mitzi laughed in a crack. “You and what army, kid?”

The woman took a step up the stairs, going nose-to-nose with Mitzi. Mitzi laughed and stepped closer in. 

“G’on, do it.” Mitzi grinned. “You’re tough, but you ain’t never tangled with someone like me. I guaran-fuckin’-tee it.”

“How much you wanna bet?”

Mitzi leaned in closer, laughing when the other woman pulled back, clearly used to being intimidating via reputation alone. Not used to people who advanced instead of holding ground. 

Mitzi stepped in closer. “You see that? I don’t bet on sure things.”

“Arat, let her pass.” Negan sounded disappointed and she smiled cruelly when a shadow of doubt crossed Arat’s face.

“Yeah, Arat, let me do the thing I was gonna do anyway.”

Arat snarled and made to get in Mitzi’s face again.

“Arat.”

Mitzi blew her a kiss and took the stairs two at a time. She disregarded Negan and plucked Judith out of his arms. 

Negan frowned. “You think I would harm one pretty-” He reached up to tweak one of Judith’s blonde waves.

Mitzi moved out of his way and adjusted her hold on the toddler who was now blithely muttering ‘MiMi’ against her shoulder. “I think you killed someone in front of his obviously ill wife. I also think you made a big show of a man cutting off his son’s hand only to tell him to stop when you got your reaction.” She looked down her nose at him. “So yeah, I do.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.” He grinned. “Say, you look real good with that baby on your hip.”

Mitzi groaned and moved to take the empty rocking chair, not comfortable leaving Carl out here with Negan alone. She caught Olivia’s anxious eyes from the otherside of the door and tried to reassure her with a small smile.

“It’s okay.” Negan licked at the corner of his lip. “I’ll wait. I wager another couple of months without your dear husband may change your tune.”

Carl snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Negan turned his asshole smile on Carl. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

“He gets it fine. He just knows me and my husband better than you do.”

“Lifers, huh?” He looked mildly contemplative but she saw a flash of tension in his face. “Noone can stay loyal forever.”

“Is that why you have so many wives?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled at Carl, covering yet more tension. “One of the reasons.”

Mitzi hummed, letting Judith play with her fingers idly. “You drove out here just to shoot the breeze? Just out here talking about your wives with a teenager?”

Negan grinned. “No, I’m returning him to you. Y’see he took it upon his own self to visit me at home.”

“Jesus Christ, Carl.” Mitzi tried to keep her voice low and even for Judith’s sake. “You did what?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it when I tell you what he did during the visit.”

Carl shrugged, clearly unapologetic.

“He gunned down two of my men.” Negan looked gleeful, as if he was looking forward to her reaction.

Instead, Mitzi turned her eyes on him, assessing. She kept quiet and watched with interest as Negan grew visibly uncomfortable.

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

She shrugged. 

“I said no.”

Negan cast her one last look before he turned away, grabbing his bat from the chair he had left it propped up against, and watched Arat interacting with Spencer. “Don’t be an asshole, Arat. Let the man pass.” Spencer climbed the stairs looking like he stepped out of a Lacoste ad, holding a bottle of liquor. “Oh, crap. Is that for me?”

Spencer put on his best prep school smile. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Spencer Monroe. Hi.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Mitzi threw her head back and laughed.

Negan tutted, amused. “Don’t be rude, Mitzi.”

She snorted and turned to Judith, making a face. The toddler squealed with laughter and patted at Mitzi’s cheeks.

Carl stood, walking over to her and Judith as Spencer settled in his vacated seat and suggested pulling out the pool table across the street.

They started discussing the various amenities Alexandria had and Mitzi made a retching sound when Spencer cheered Negan’s proposed “vacation home”.

Spencer glared at her and she flipped him the bird behind Judith’s head. “Just make sure you use protection, Spence. Wrap it before he taps it. Look at that man. A true hero. Taking one for the team in fuckin’ khakis of all things.”

“Mitzi.” Carl shot a pointed look at Judith.

“Sorry kiddo.”

**

“You were right.”

She hummed and knocked elbows with Rick. “Rosa was right. Sasha and Maggie were right.” She shrugged. “I had to be woken up just like you.”

Rick sighed. “Still didn’t take you as long.”

Mitzi chuckled. “Let’s chock that up to the differences in our general temperaments.”

Rick snorted and looked up to address the person at the gate and stop, eyes watering.

She followed his line of sight and smiled up at Maggie. 

Rick was the first to pull Maggie into a hug, the tension leaking out of the group like water. Mitzi smiled, feeling some of the same relief but knowing that she wouldn’t feel better until Daryl was in front of her.

She waited her turn and squeezed Maggie in a tight hug. Maggie smiled and opened her mouth to say something as Mitzi’s gaze drifted over her shoulder.

She froze and sucked in a breath. Daryl caught her eyes from across the grass. Mitzi felt immediate tears in her eyes, her knees quaking, her breath stuttering in her lungs. “F-fuck!”

Maggie grinned. “Yeah.” 

She stumbled past Maggie, who was also crying. Rick laughed, his eyes red and glassy, as she passed him up at a full speed sprint. 

She hit Daryl like a freight train, wrapping herself completely around him and fisting her hands in his shirt. “Fuck!”

“Hey, baby.” 

She chuckled wetly. 

Daryl reached up, cradling her head, whispering. No one mentioned quite how long it took for her to pull away from his chest.

She discreetly wiped at her eyes and stood on her tiptoes to press her forehead against his. “Say it to m’fuckin face.”

He smiled softly against her lips. “Fuckin’ love ya, Spitfire.”

“I fuckin’ love you, too, D.” 

He kissed her full on the mouth. She gasped and arched into him, so overwhelmed that it didn’t even register that they were surrounded by a small group of people until Jesus politely cleared his throat.

She pressed a second more chaste kiss to his mouth and smiled. Her hands shook as she anxiously checked him for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Daryl swallowed, nodding as he wiped at her eyes. “M’fine, Spitfire.”

**

Mitzi rolled her eyes as Gregory continued with the theatrics. Daryl looked about ready to march across the room and shut him up himself.

She considered it but considered staying pressed shoulder to hip to Daryl’s side much more important than a braggart with little to be desired.

Even his taste in interior decorating was shoddy.

“And by the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?”

The answer was resounding, down to Jesus. “Mitzi!”

“Mitzi? Who’s Mitzi?”

Mitzi shook her head. “I am, prick.”

Gregory looked less than impressed. “It doesn’t matter, it was rhetorical~” he singsonged.”I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear another word about any of it, ever.”

Rick huffed, agitated. “Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Michonne tagged out Rick, fighting to maintain her characteristic composure. “What are you going to do to fix the problem?”

“I didn’t say we had a problem.” He dismissed her. “You did. And what happens outside of my purview, is outside of my purview.”

Daryl pushed off the wall. “What the hell, man? You’re either with us or you ain’t. You sittin’ here talkin’ outta both sides of your mouth.”

Gregory stood, straightening his shirt sleeves. “I-I think I’ve made my position very clear.”

“What you’ve made clear is how utterly useless you are.” Mitzi wiped her hands over her face, short temper even more frayed. 

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

Mitzi laughed. “It doesn’t matter what my name is, you won’t be around much longer to remember it at this rate.”

He made a face, comically aghast. “Are you threatening me?”

“Nah, you ain’t worth the energy it would take to do that, fool.”

He rolled his shoulder more agitated than he was willing to admit. “This is who you want to train my sorghum farmers? This foul-mouthed plouc?”

Mitzi laughed. “You don’t even got the balls to insult me in English.” She nodded at Rick. “Why did we think he’d sack up and do something for his people again?”

Rick sighed, but seemed to think Gregory might deserve what was coming to him, or that it wouldn’t make it worse at any rate. Still he tried. “You should watch how you talk to her. Mitzi has been exceptionally on edge this past week.”

“Well, if she would just behave herself, we could maybe discuss this.” Gregory made a face. “Oh, wait. No. No we can’t, whore’s mouth or no. I’ve made my decision.”

Rick shot a look at Mitzi and shrugged.

Mitzi was on him in a second. She hooked her foot around his ankle and caught him by his shirt collar before he fell backwards. 

“I could kill you in a dozen different ways and you, being weak and useless, would be unable to do anything to stop me. So, yeah,” She let him go and he fell backwards into his chair. “I can train your sorghum farmers. I just need you outta my fuckin’ way.”

Gregory blushed and stood. “I would like to thank you all for not being here today and not having this meeting with me… or being seen on your way out.” 

**

“Holy shit.” Mitzi breathed. “What the fuck?’

Daryl chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed they had been given for the night. “He thinks he’s a king.”

“D, he has a fuckin’ tiger.” She laughed. “What the fuck is going on? Do y’think someone dosed us or something?” 

She wandered closer to him and he reached out to pull her between his legs. He pressed his forehead to her sternum and sighed. “Missed ya, Spitfire.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to his head. “Missed you back, baby. So damn much.”

He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She moved to straddle his lap, kneeling on the bed. “As cheesy as it is.” She swallowed. “I thought I lost you.”

He hummed, lifting his head to press a kiss to her lips. 

“I thought I’d never see you again and I knew it would be my fault.” She cradled his jaw and blinked away tears. “I couldn’t sleep while you were there, D. I kept thinking about what they could be doing to you and-” She spluttered to a stop, eyes squeezing shut to staunch tears. 

“Hey…” He pushed her hair outta her face and tutted.

“And I just keep remembering that I could’ve kept this shit from happening-”

He sighed and pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Baby, none a’this is your fault.”

Shaking her head, she stepped away from him. “Everyone keeps saying that, as if they weren’t there when I pushed for taking the outpost, when I planned it and led it.” She shrugged. “I did that. Glenn and Abraham are on me. I’m the reason he took you, D.”

He huffed. “Nah, baby, I got Glenn killed and I got me taken. After Abraham, he kept fuckin’ with you and I knew you were gonna react and I couldn’t let that happen.”

She sighed heavily in frustration. “Daryl.”

“Baby, I wasn’t gonna let you die there.”

“Even if it meant that you would die?” She swallowed. “‘Cause as odd as it is, we got lucky that he took you.”

He chuckled. “Are y’surprised? Y’know I would take a bullet for y’baby. That I wouldn’t let my wife die out there.”

She rubbed a hand over her face. "It woulda served me right. Only I get to escape the consequences of my colossal fuckups.”

“Mitzi.” He caught her hand, drawing her back to him. “Y’were right, baby. Y’were.” She dodged his eyes and he lifted his hand to wipe at her eyes. “You knew that this would start somethin’ and it did, but y’were also right that it was the only play.”

“But y’could have died.” She wiped at her face. “You got tortured and you coulda died-”

He caught her eyes. “Baby, I coulda died any of the million times you gotta buzz in your fool head and popped off at some crazy asshole. None of that changes that you are right. You were right to pop off at the crazy asshole and you were right about that outpost and y’re right now. I will always follow your lead, baby. As hotheaded as you are, I trust you with my life. I always have.”

She breathed out harshly. “I’m gonna bring him down. I told Maggie I would kill him, but I’m gonna make it possible for one of y’all to kill him.”

He nodded, hands on her hips. “Glenn ain’t your fault either, Spitfire.”

“Ain’t yours either.”

He shrugged. She smiled and set her hands on his shoulders, climbing into his lap. “Look at us, Guilty and Guilty-ier. Guess I shouldn’t look the gift-horse in the mouth.”

“Don’t give a fuck about no horse.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth and coaxed her mouth open with his. “I just wanna sleep next to m’wife tonight.”

She breathed deep and smiled at him. She leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

Part 9

[carmenized-onions]

I’m speechless (I have so much to say)

Your mind?! Your skills?!

I totally forgot that the fucking iconic freezer fight never happened in the first chapter because Tony/Inky/Chip/Best Repairwoman To Ever Live/ Baddest Bitch To Ever Exist/ etc got there just in time, so to see it HERE??? So fucking satisfying. It’s like a train wreck you can’t look away from and you managed to completely recreate that scene, only now it’s Tony’s heart breaking instead of Claire’s 😔

I also love the fact that it was the “You’re fucking nothing!” line that prompted Tony to intervene. The same thing Lee said to Michael 💔 (Fuck that guy)

And your characterization of Tony is honesty my favorite because it’s like Carmen says, she defends herself without being mean (even though he deserves to be locked in the freezer again AND the office just for good measure) and THAT makes Carmen’s words all the more vicious because she knows he’s spiraling about something, she’s trying to be compassionate, she’s trying her damn hardest to believe that he doesn’t mean it, but then he delivers the final blow to an open wound and yeah…he must mean it

Also, Richie ready to throw down with Carmen after he made Tony cry??? Sydney immediately comforting her??? Both them AND the staff ready to WALK??? Sweeps not knowing what the fuck is going on during his smoke break??? I love them all 💕

“No. Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.” The way I would say the same shit just to be petty 😊

Also, the Exec asking for her number??? ew

Jump scare fr, didn’t see that coming at all 😂

Carmen’s gonna have an aneurysm when he reads that

The parking lot scene between Tony and Richie was so cathartic. They grieved Michael’s death separately for so long, blaming themselves, and now they can grieve together 🥺

I once again fully support Tony’s decision to let the stray fur ball eat Carmen’s flowers AND to leave the black plate out to fend for itself 😊

And FINALLY, “I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother…” I’m SOBBING. Carmen was out here thinking that Michael and Tony were a thing when all along his older brother was trying to play matchmaker 💔

I’m gonna need about 5 business days to recover

I’m also gonna be very disappointed when season 3 drops next week and I don’t see Chip pop up within the first couple of seconds. Like THIS is season 3. It’s canon. 💜💜💜

I feel bad not responding in order but I have to start with the end. Can I be so fr. Me too. LMAO. I HAVE R O T T E D MY BRAIN. I HAVE RUINED THE BEAR FOR MYSELF LMAOOOO. I'm gonna be watching in 6 fucking days going,,,, but,,, but toneee???? but chipp??? where chip!!?!?!?!!

So I'm glad other people also think this. Delights me. I am hoping that a bunch of plot points I did still happen in season 3, because some of writing this has genuinely been either me guessing or just wanting a fun thing to happen in S3 (I.e I think wedding catering ep would genuinely be so fucking fun. like terrible. but so fun)

ANYWAYYYSSSS Back to this chapter's thoughts.

Thank you sm for having sm to say because I love to hear it-- An analysis??? ooohhfhsdfhksdjfh i could. i could maybe die. Fuckin love when people DIG IN!!!

I don't remember if I always planned for this fight to lead with the freezer fight, but I do remember seeing like a gifset of the freezer fight, and going oh I can't just let this all go unsaid. It would be AN INJUSTICE to Carm/Rich to not let that air out. You gotta level a building to rebuild. And there's just something I think on like, a reader level/ me writing it of like-- Knowing when this was supposed to happen and where that really adds so much to reading it this time, because instead of a door between them it's fucking YOU!!! FUCK !!!!!!

YEEAAGGHHH!!!! (You will see why I cannot comment more on this point of Uncle Lee later. But Just know. YEEAHFKJDFHGKJDFHGFKJDFG!!!!!!!!!)

Every time people say they love Tony as a character, an angel gets it's wings. That's how it feels for me. But 100% it made that whole scene so much more brutal because she's trying to explain and trying to understand but that's simply not how any dynamic Carmen's ever been in has worked and so it's just making him wig out more. RAH!

The other thing, that I think is like, a golden rule in writing fights-- Or at least it's always been one for me-- The hardest hitting line will always be the one that the person hearing it thinks is true about themselves. Peoples princess? Sure. Don't work here? Ouch but okay. The one thing that haunts you every day that you blame yourself for and were just waiting for one person to affirm it for you? OH!!!! OH!!!! BABYYYYYYYYY!!!!

The aftermath with the kitchen was so tough for me to think out, because I was like-- I cannot have them fucking punch Carmen. Like we can't do that. But also like. Richie would do that. WOP WOP! But I eventually agreed with myself that he'd go with chewing him out BEFORE the punch, and thankfully Chip stopped him in time.

Syd was me, when my friends cry. The yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo-- came from an extremely real place. and that place is my mouth. I love The Bear and Tony's relationship, which is also what makes the I don't think anyone's my friend all the more heartbreaking, because everyone was on her side there. And she just cannot see that. SON OF A BITCH BROOOOO BROOOOO STOPPPPPP I'm the one writing it who am I telling to stop?

I-- With the petty line, bro,,,, I wanted to dig into hell so bad. I wanted to snatch that motherfucker's soul-- But I left it at your kitchen because it just wouldn't be in Tony's like,,,, energy? to do so?? Like she'd already been murdered at that point, so she couldn't turn on roast mode. my poor bird.

JUMP SCARE EXEC!!! There were actually surprise surprise whether you believe me or not, a lot of different ways his dinner could've went, and I'll probably share them in another ask down the line, but the one thing I felt pretty solid about is he would be into Tony. ew.

The parking lot scene really was everything for me tbh, I'd been waiting to write this chapter overall for some time, but that one like,,,, fuck i really adore these two and it's exactly like ya said, so very cathartic for them to finally get to be absolutely not over anything togetherrrr yknow?

And that's another vote for---Fuck it, poll,

As for Mikey Matchmaker,,,,, -- You know what, i'm gonna save this for after either the series is done or after chapter 13, pending. But remind me later that i need to tell you something about Mikey and ,,,,, fire???? Yeah. Tell me I need to tell you about that, after chapter 13 or so.

[kittsu-and-company]

In Broad Daylight.

// Aka writing thing teehee

Trigger Warning(s): Manipulation

-

Kittsu felt glued to her spot in that moment, watching the man who had been nothing more than a suspicious, reoccurring character, sob by the fountain. She watched from afar as Achlys hid his face in his hands, Espeon by his side, clearly attempting to comfort its trainer. She wanted to approach, ask if he was okay but… was it really safe?

He has done nothing but help her so far, yet the phrase “wolf in sheep’s” clothing jumped to her mind for a fleeting second, something that would’ve caused Kittsu to turn tail and leave in any other situation. But he’s crying, something was wrong! The overcast day boasted sunbeams peeking through damp gray clouds, shining light upon various buildings like a natural spotlight.

Nobody would be stupid enough to hurt someone in such a public place, in the middle of the day no less? And she should have more faith in her ability to keep herself safe, anyway. She could take care of herself, and she knows her limits.

Kittsu cautiously approached the still sobbing man, trying to make herself seem more approachable than she felt. Achlys’ Espeon, oh what was its name, watched her approach with a blank expression, before sauntering forward to rub its head against her leg. She felt like she needed to sneak while approaching the man in front of her, though she didn’t try to stop the Espeon’s shattering of her attempt of stealth.

Achlys didn’t look up even when she stopped just a few feet in front of him, awkwardly thumbing the occupied Luxury ball in her pocket in case anything went south. She bit her lip as he continued to cry, still trying to find her words.

“…Excuse me?” The man suddenly went dead silent, shit, was that a bad move? “Are you okay..? Achlys?” She felt her nails dig into the hand still hidden in her pocket, before withdrawing both of them into a more friendly position. “I’m uh- I’m sorry if I’m bothering you-“

“No, no… hello.” Achlys raised his head to meet Kittsu’s nervous gaze, trying to wipe tears from his eyes still. “What brings you here, kid?”

Kittsu pauses for a second to breath, why was she so nervous? He’s just a poor guy having a rough day from what she sees right now, why does she still feel alarms going off in her head? “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay… do you need anything? Can I ask what’s wrong?” Achlys stares at her for a beat too long, the silence broken by nothing but mindless chatter of nearby Fletchling.

“It’s nothing… my coworker just told me about someone posting about me online. Happened a lot when I was a kid, bullied had a lot of fun with it.” Oh. Kittsu’s apprehension immediately drowned in pooling guilt at those words, stomach dropping straight to the floor by weights of shame. “It’s hard. That’s why I don’t go on social media, because I had a friend get doxxed from something similar. They had to move away, and I never saw them again.” Kittsu wanted to be sick.

“I-I’m sorry… is there- uh- anything I could do to help..?” She fought tears weighed by guilt pricking at her eyes, Arceus she was too high strung for this right now. “Well, I was going to go buy food for Day, but the store is going to close soon and I don’t want to go alone.”

Well Arceus, if that wasn’t suspicious Kittsu didn’t know what would be. But she’s clearly already caused so much pain- she’s wrecked Sprite’s family and Coral’s nerves, and she doesn’t want to hurt anyone else. Sun peeking through the clouds now fleeing for the horizon shine glowing lights that bounce brilliantly off of the fountain’s bubbling water. He’d be stupid to do anything in broad daylight. The Espeon, day rubs against her legs once more.

Kittsu holds out her hand, and notes how the weight of Ember’s pokeball sat in her pocket; ready.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Thoughts 01x06 The Case of the Creeping Forest

“So is it WB, does that mean it’s also on TV?” “Oh yeah…the largest train wreck of all time” “How bad would you feel if you convinced this lady who doesn’t date had this happened?” “I assume Niko just guessed” “Hey thats a healthy thing to say” “the fuck is wrong with Niko? I guess she did see some dead person spiked through the head, but I’m not a normal person. I’ve been around enough death for a lifetime” “wait he seriously uses the carbon copy thing? I haven’t seen that in a hot minute” “The walruses came from sausage fingers?” “The old timey scratchy thing doesn’t match the timing of the animation, ad it’s very distracting” “So what do they do? Oh we find out” “You didn’t specify right? So if everything comes at a cost” “What do you value more? Your sanity or your powers?” “That wax is going to bother me very fkn time I watch this” “what the fuck.” “That was really cool editing. Not going to lie. It was really fast too” “What did we even see?” Rewound the sequence

“Distortion” “how can she still see them?” “Why does Monty look like he’s dressed from a 70s catalog?” “What kind of pants are those?” “ok” “Is this Jonah? What the fuck is going on here? How would they survive at these depths or pressures?” “Is that the fish’s butthole or throat? I suppose it’s not a butthole, but it’s a sphincter of sorts” “It’s just a lot to take in. It’s a large sphincter. PLUS how do you survive in a fish when the fish eats stuff so it’s passing right through your living room” “yes he does” “about sausage” “She’s not a teenager?” The character is a teenager

“That’s weird I guess” “like a deer? What is it?” “Little more complicated than grabbing a shotgun out of an Impala but ok” “Where is the origin light for the stuff reflecting on the top of the stomach?” “I”M A WHALE WHOOOO” “I feel like we’re going to see that guy’s ass again someday. I need to know more” “that was pretty fkn cool” “I kinda feel like a knob for not knowing that’s a cricket ball. Sports ball things” “ghost feelings are complicated, man” “don’t cats like climbing things?” “I mean a cat would know about a crow” “am I supposed to follow the feelings or the case?” “Let the cat eat the crow” “what’s more ridiculous - the forest is fine or the outfit? Is that glitter or sequins?” “interesting effect” “aren’t the gills the mouth? Why is there a mouth on the stem/“ “teeth face huh?” “that was 2 episodes ago. I dig that. Coming across multiple episodes” “very cyberpunk. Glowing trees and shit” “I was too focused on the lighting. What just happened?”” “So she had her powers the whole time I guess? That doesn’t make sense” “that’s not good for your head” “did it eat her?” “uh huh” “Is that a speaker or a suit case?” “Crystal Method is music group” “If those are incandescent lights, they’re very not safe” “that’s be a lot of heat next to wallpaper and glue and flammable things” “IT”S SO DISTORTED. IT BOTHERS ME” “Is this the jarred clowns or what?” “Couldn’t he have just run through the…I guess that’s one way to do away with the bracelet”

[britishassistant]

Twst x Neverafter Crossover 1

TW for Body Horror

“Now, you shall all become the heroes of this tale…”

You wake up in the dark with faint humming in your ears.

You try to shift, to make out what’s going on and where you are, only for something sharp to catch on your lips.

When you jerk and attempt to pull away, it digs in, scratching and drawing blood from your arms, your legs, your chest, the inside of your mouth—!

Oh god, they’re inside your mouth.

The briars are inside of you.

Your brain panics, thrashing wildly, instinctually to get away as your throat tries to scream.

“…old on, minion!”

A burst of bright blue flame.

You scream even as it begins burning the briars shackling you to your coffin, as the flame makes its way closer and closer to your body.

Light.

That’s immediately covered by a silhouette as someone reaches in and begins to pull with their bare hands, yanking at the burning briars before they can catch your skin.

You feel them tear your soft palate as they emerge from where they were reaching down your throat.

The pain is dizzying, blinding.

And then, all of a sudden, it isn’t.

A soft, pale glow is enveloping you, closing up your wounds as a young man with silver hair and striking eyes holds a pen with a green jewel in its top over you.

As the pain fades, you can’t help gawking, taking in this boy and then the room you’re in, filled with floating coffins. No, no, this isn’t right, you were walking home from your shift at the mart in Kyoto, you have homework that’s due in English language tomorrow, so why does this room feel familiar to you? Why does this boy?

“Minion!” A cat-tanuki-weasel-thing? exclaims as it leaps into your lap, pushing against your chest. “Are you alright?! Yer not dying are you?”

Your arms encircle the animal of their own accord, beginning to gently stroke as though you’ve done this a million times before. “Wh-what? Where…?”

“Welcome back, Prefect.” A, a robot with flaming blue hair and brilliant gold eyes says, hovering over you. “How much do you remember?”

“R-remember? I—”

There’s a notebook in your hand.

It’s small, with a metal spiral at the top, a thick black cover decorated with an embossed crow over a pair of keys, and a loop of fabric to keep it closed.

Something seems off about it’s pages. Like there are somehow too many for what the notebook should be able to hold…

You thumb off the fabric and nervously flip open to the first page—

“Without a doubt, you have talent as a beast tamer.”

And—

“For the moment you hear it, you’ll feel as though a frost has spread over your skin. For your ignorance, as an exception, I’ll allow you to call me whatever you’d like. Though you may come to regret it.”

And—!

“Well, well, what a glittering assemblage…faculty and students, it would appear everyone is here.”

You shut the book, leaning your weight heavily on Silver.

“I hate this so much.” You grouse as Grim nuzzles into your chest. “Why can’t I just keep my memories every go like you all can?”

“It’s because unlike us, who slot into the absent places where we were meant to go, it would appear that you are replacing a new version of yourself every time, Prefect.” Ortho supplies cheerfully. “Like overwriting an old save file when you want to make a New Game.”

You can’t help the shudder you make at that.

“Ortho.” Silver chastens softly.

“That’s seriously creepy!” Grim proclaims from the safety of your arms.

“It’s not as bad as it could be!” Ortho argues. “Hmm…rather than overwriting this world’s Yuu completely, maybe it would help to think of it as a sort of New Game + feature? All of the knowledge, none of the injuries that your last body had.”

Your gaze wanders back over to the wreck of your coffin, briars hanging limp like grasping fingers. “Still…is it just me or is it getting worse to a much higher degree than last time?”

“We don’t have any time to lose,” Silver admits, helping to hoist you to your feet. “The others are still asleep and while Rook is running interference, it won’t take long before he notices. We barely stopped him from consuming Azul last time, but…”

“That’s no guarantee for this time.” You gnaw on your thumbnail, before letting Grim down and out of your arms. “Right. How long before we need to be in place?”

“You have 5.12 minutes before the headmaster arrives.” Ortho chirps. “If Grim is going to steal your robes, we need to depart soon.”

“Right.” Before Silver can leave, you grab the corner of his ceremonial robes.

“You can stay at Ramshackle tonight.” You try to insist. “Say that you were looking for your liege there but fell asleep accidentally. You don’t have to go back to Diasomnia.”

Silver shoots you a sad smile. They’re the only kind you see from him these days. “Thank you for your kindness, Prefect. But Father will expect me back if the Dorm Head is not missing. And, and maybe I can find out some more information…what his name was before he sacrificed it, at least. Something that can save him from what he’s turning himself into. I must try, at least.”

You grimace, but let him tug himself out of your grip and disappear with Ortho out of the Dark Mirror chamber.

You turn to Grim, “Remember the rules?”

“‘Course I do, fgnah!” He protests. “I should be asking you that question! With such an empty-headed minion, it’s important for the Great Grim to look out for ya!”

“Brat cat.” You retort without venom, lifting a finger to tick off, “Don’t let the fae know we aren’t sticking to the script.”

He holds up a little paw as you both leave, “Don’t trust those Royal Sword Academy guys! They’re way too straightforward to be up to any good!”

“Only make other people aware if you’re certain they can actually help. So students only, as the faculty are too high profile and useless.” You return, one finger left to fold down.

“Stay away from Diasomnia’s dorm head at all costs, and stop him from destroying Twisted Wonderland.” The pair of your chorus.

There’s a lingering hush outside the Dark Mirror Hall.

“Ge-get back here with my robes, fgnah!” Grim postures, his little chest thrust out in a poor imitation of his original bravado.

You can’t help the small quirk of your smile as you respond with a much more realistic, “Gah! Stay away from me!”

With the prickling feeling of something much bigger, much more powerful, and much more terrifying than you could ever conceive of staring covetous holes into your back, you launch into a run through the dark, near silent halls of Night Raven College.