#e zig

[chussyracing]

starting a collection of interesting f1 related nose shapes

[ragazzoarcano]

“Essere abbattuti nella vita e un dato di fatto. Alzarsi e andare avanti è una scelta.”

— Zig Ziglar

[thoughtkick]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[perfectfeelings]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[ashryder]

"I know.." his voice softened further into a quiet mutter at the reality of the statistics. The frustration was evident in their words in response, and Ash quietened down from adding too much more words of comfort, if that wasn't what they needed, then that will be what he stopped on. Strange as he's usually the more pessimistic one of the bunch. But so Ash fell back into the realist in him, focused on the facts that he knew, "there's time, not much, but there's still time. They're getting into human trials, that means they have to be confident enough about it before they approve that." Despite his own distrust, there was too much on the line for Afterglow to fail, they know that themselves.

Ashton could feel the light burning under his sleeves, he could only imagine the amount of pain Beau was going through. Ash had no right to woe about the minuscule inconvenience he was going through in comparison, perhaps the root of why he continued moving, working, helping. "We're gonna do our best, to make sure no one else out there gets hurt," there was only so much even the silver lining can do, stretching themselves thin between the compound and the town, but they damn well can fucking try. The anxiety of all of that was sitting in the pit of his stomach, every fiber in him telling him to keep going, but this was important, being here was important, even for just a little while longer. Ziggy's words pulled him out of the stresses in his mind to flash a small smile in response, "I'll do my best," hiding away from the reality of his own rashes the threaten him like a low hum, annoying but still easy enough to ignore. "He's gonna need you more," Ash rested a hand on their shoulder, "rest if you can, I'll be here to watch over."

ziggy wanted to chime in to protest that they didn't matter, their well-being didn't mean shit when beau was laying in that hospital bed, unable to move without going through excruciating pain. nothing about them would be worth anything if beau didn't pull through this, if afterglow didn't get their shit together. while that may be a bit dramatic, that is exactly where their head was at. truly, they did not want to be in a world where whatever gods existed let them live and not someone like beau. instead, they met ashton's well wishes with a quiet smile and a quick nod. they appreciated the sentiment at the very least.

"it has a mortality rate of over sixty percent, ash. he's strong but if they don't come up with a solution, even in the best case scenario, we're going to be racing against fate." and fate is something ziggy didn't like to bet on if they could help it. so many people had already died from it at the market, that's without the added casualties of those hit from hornets and getting trampled and what not. if there was one thing ziggy did not want, was someone sugar coating odds and giving them false hope. they weren't mad ashton was trying, but it wasn't something they could fathom. even the smallest amount of cicada toxin was so painful it could bring the strongest to their knees and beau was covered in it.

"yeah that's what i've heard from everyone else, too. enough to make someone prone to violence commit acts of terror," lucky for afterglow, ziggy was not prone to violence. doesn't mean they haven't thought about it. "thanks for coming though ash, i know it means a lot to him even if he's not awake. just take care of yourself, too. he's going to need his best friend if he gets out of here."

[moonstruckme]

This is my first time requesting so ignore this if it doesn’t make sense but I was wondering if I could request a tired reader just wanting to be babied a bit and Remus just being the most gentle and loving with her ? (Just something super lovey dovey 🫠)

Thanks for requesting!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 407 words

Once you’ve begun yawning, you can’t stop. Tears well in your eyes and squish out into your lashes. Remus pretends to be vexed with you for getting him started too, but really he’s only horrifically in love with you. 

“Alright, e…enough,” he says around a deep yawn. “Clearly it’s time for bed.” 

You make a low, unwilling sound as your eyes close and your head drops to the pillow propped up against the arm of the sofa. Remus smiles, brushing a finger under your lashes to collect the moisture there. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.” 

You mumble something. 

“Hm?” 

“Carry me?” Your eyes open, pleading. 

Remus is sure he looks just as lovesick as he feels. He’s well aware that you’re likely doing this on purpose—dialing up your usual sweetness to eleven—but it’s working. He thinks you’re the most precious thing in the world. He wants to carry you everywhere you ask, to cuddle you and cosset you and snog you into oblivion. 

“I would,” he says, fondness heavy on his tongue, “but I can’t carry you and wash your face at the same time.” 

You make another small sound. Similar to the first, but more resigned. 

“I know,” Remus chuckles, getting an arm under your middle to help encourage you up. “I’m sorry.” 

You walk like you really are half asleep already, zig-zagging and leaning heavily against Remus’ side all the way to the bathroom. You groan and shut your eyes when he turns on the light. He sits you up on the counter to smooth product into your skin with soft, lulling touches. 

You make an appreciative humming sound when he wets a flannel to clean it off with rather than splashing your face the way you normally would. 

“Thank you,” you say, nearly slurring. 

Remus smiles to himself. “Of course.” 

You’re soft as butter in his hands. Your face is relaxed, cheek smushing to the side when he wipes with the cloth. He indulges himself in pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips when he’s done, and they curve in a somnolent smile. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

“Rem?” 

“Hm?” 

“I really think you’re gonna have to carry me to bed.” You let yourself slump forward, face hiding in his neck. “I can’t walk.” 

Remus lets out a put upon sigh, though he’s sure you can hear the way his heart swells by the beating of his pulse. 

“Fine. Just this once.”

[stay-close]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[creampie-capital]

║ꜰʀᴀɴᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴇɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ║

↳「ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ」║ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴀʙʏᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ➠ 18+

ɴᴀᴍᴇ║Franken Stein

ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ/ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ║Soul Eater

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║7,083

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏᴇᴛɪᴄ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇɴ."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"You have to work with me, (Y/n)."

Refusing to even look at him, you set your gaze on your nails. Your legs were crossed over each other as you leaned back against the couch in the Patchwork Lab.

"If you want our relationship to grow stronge,r then you're going to have to let it go."

Disregarding Stein's words and not even giving him a glance, you stood to your feet and kicked your heels back on. "I'm going back to staying at Spirit's for a while. Send a message if you need me." You informed, tiredly reaching for your purse only for his hands to seize your wrist.

This ultimately gained your attention. Your (e/c) optics connected with his fern-hued ones. The stare-off was so intense that the air seemed thicker in the room.

"You're not going to leave just because you're a little upset. That's childish, (Y/n)." The man stated, smoke wafting from his lit cigarette.

"No." You blew out the cancer stick and yanked his hold off your wrist. "Us breaking up doesn't warrant you to go and sleep with Marie who you almost got pregnant! I mean-"

You slapped his chest with your purse, permitting a loud grunt to echo from his throat. "We broke up because you didn't want kids and I did!" You snapped before bearing a deep breath to calm yourself.

The exceedingly tall 6'10 (208 cm) male gazed down at you with an ardent stare. "You're becoming extremely emotional about this, you're not going to be able to think clearly."

"Stein." You called his last name in a warning tone. "I'm not even mad that you slept with her, we broke up, on a break. I'm mad because you don't understand how important having a family is to me, and how I want it to be with you. Almost getting her pregnant before we got back together reveals your blatant disregard for my feelings. It shows you rather put your test, questions, and experiments above everyone, above me."

It was difficult to be upset with him about these things. Stein is different than everybody else who saw anything in the world as an experiment.

He lacks the ability to understand complex emotions and most of his actions were shallow, only to benefit his dormant madness and twisted mind.

Knowing the scientist for as long as you have, you believed there was a bond the two of you shared. Something that was entirely real and something even Stein didn't understand but welcomed with great interest.

But nothing was ever enough for the mad scientist, apparently. You believed that after the death of Asura, when the madness subsided, so would his drastic lust for experimenting.

Sighing, you shook your head in defeat and strode to his zig-zag-styled doors. You halted once you arrived and flexed your fingers.

"Listen, I'm not giving up on this relationship unless that's what you want. But you have to start showing that you actually care. I know it's hard for you, but you have to work on understanding people deeper than just what's on the surface. When you're ready to show me that, come get me and I'll be happy to come home. Until then, I'll see you at work."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Yawning aloud and waving a hand in front of your face, the bell rang and dismissed your students. They dispersed like a rushing current, all dashing past each other to get to their lunch table first.

You weren't particularly hungry, maybe because there was still a lot on your mind that the thought of even eating made your stomach churn.

There was still quite a bit of time before your next class starts so maybe you'll use this opportunity to rest. Stepping down from your platform, your heels clicked softly as you reached for the light switch.

However, to your surprise, the door to your classroom was opened, and peeking in was none other than your boyfriend and childhood lover. He gave you a jovial smile.

"(Y/n)." He expressed your name in a quiet voice and fully stepped into your classroom. His hands found their way into the pocket of his doctor's lab coat as he quirked a grin at you.

Your lips pulled into a thin-lipped expression with arms crossing underneath your chest. "What do you want, Stein?" You asked, tone uncaring and agitated.

The silver-grey-haired male rose a hand to the large screw-in-bolt in his head and turned it a few times to collect his thoughts.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you." He inquired, a glimmer arising in his round glasses permitting you to raise an eyebrow and cock your head to the side.

"That's suspicious. That's weird." The man rolled his fern-colored orbs at your response.

"It's weird that I want to see my significant other?" He questioned, shutting the door behind him. You nodded your head immediately with no hesitation.

Stein's left eye twitched slightly. "I did just want to see you." He announced. "I also wanted to do something with you."

Your brows rose as you scratched at the back of your neck. "Can't be good. If you want to dissect me then you're gonna have to wait till I die."

The handsome man laughed in his throat and your shoulders couldn't help but deflate. You wondered if his effort were fake, just one of his automatic responses or a genuine reaction.

You weren't sure and you didn't know if you knew him as well as you thought anymore.

"No, I'll save that for later." You rolled your (e/c) eyes. "I wanted to try soul resonance."

A bit taken aback, you felt your mouth slip agape. "Why do you want to do something like that now? We're not even in combat?" You questioned.

Stein nodded his head before bearing slow almost intimidating steps to your frame. His long limbs left him no trouble arriving in front of you quickly.

"You know-" He let one of his fingers caress your lower jaw, his face tilting down closer to yours. "it's not only for combat. It's also a way two souls can bond and communicate telepathically."

It took you a second to understand where things were going but as soon as you realized you had to shake your head. It was a bit clever that Stein would like to convey his thoughts to you through his mind rather than his lips.

What you wanted was for him to work on himself, to be able to express his thoughts freely. But, you guess you'll humor him for now.

"Fine." You accepted and stepped back, holding out a hand for him to take. His lips quirked into a grin as he gladly accepted your hand.

His head dipped as his lips delicately touched the back of your hand, placing a smooch on it that you still could feel even when he pulled away.

He held them in a secure hold before drawing your body to his and placing his free hand on the small of his back. Your breath hitched as the warmth of his body wafted onto your skin through your clothes.

It had been a while since the two of you touched each other and you hope he works on himself soon. You miss his touch.

Gradually you let your eyes wander back up to his face and met his gaze. Ah, those beautiful fern eyes that you fell in love with when you were only kids and still manage to fall even more in love with as adults.

"Do you remember how to dance?" He teased lightly, referring to your absentmindedness.

His words shook you from your thoughts, you blinked a few times before quickly looking anywhere but his face. "Shut it, I'm the one that taught you to dance in the first place."

He hummed in response as you brought your hand up to his shoulder and held your clasped arms outwards. Something special the two of you shared was how the tempo of your beating hearts thumped rhythmically, matching each other.

It allowed the two of you to dance with no music, resonating with the sound of living hearts that corresponded concurrently.

The movement was muscle memory, striding off with a sharp, precise step before being spun around into the next corresponding move.

Heels clicked with the tiled ground as each connecting movement only lasted for a second as the next move commenced. Your heart swelled at the feeling, your mind dizzy from the swaying but also from the nostalgia.

Your eyes found their way up to his face again, connecting with his eyes and once again falling in love with his intense gaze. The sound of your heartbeats drummed in your ears, matching with every step.

The hate, the anger, it all washed away at that moment. You'll have to cuss Stein out later, he knew what he was doing. You hate how smart he is.

Humming, you let your eyes flutter shut and perform every dancing step with excellent precision until your body began to illuminate a white glow.

Your grip on each other's hands grew tight before you morphed into your weapon form. Unlike his previous demon weapon partners who were a scythe, a hammer, and a demon lamp, you were a reverse grip dagger.

The blades were silver, extending alongside his arms and stopping just below his elbow. The matching daggers were connected together by a gold chain at the hilt that grew when he needed it to.

Now that you were was transformed, the hypnotic intimate dance came to a halt as he stared down at your weapon in his hands.

"Ah." He crooned. "It's been a while since I've held you like this."

You snorted, shaking your head within your weapon form. "No, it's been a while since you've held me in human form."

Your childhood lover performed a few attacks at an invisible enemy before chuckling to himself. "How about you transform back and I'll make you remember how my touch in that human form? We still have... say thirty minutes left. Should be enough, right?" He mused.

"Franken Stein!" You hissed. "You're just trying to use cheap tricks to get me to come home!"

The handsome man shrugged his shoulders. "Worth a try."

"Idiot. Either soul resonates with me or get out of my classroom." You shot back.

He whispered 'fine' before inhaling a deep breath and readying his stance. You swallowed the saliva in your mouth before steadying your breathing.

Focus took over your minds as the connection between the two of you grew stronger. Your lips parted, ready to call out soul resonance until a loud commotion distracted you both.

The door to your classroom was slammed open, Spirit's figure sweeping inside as he shouted. "Hey Stein, Marie is asking for your help."

It became awfully still in the classroom as you heard the woman's name. Your heart lurched in your throat as a burning fury coursed through your veins.

It disrupted your melodic heartbeats and broke the rhythm the two of you were sharing.

You weren't even mad at Marie, no; it was just that hearing her name was a reminder of how she almost got what you wanted, how Stein's curiosity meant more to him than you.

These feelings—the hate, the pain—began to make your souls incompatible. The handle of your blades began to seethe with heat until it was like molten Lava.

The Meister had to release your form, dropping you down as you quickly shifted back to your original appearance. "Looks like you're busy." Your words were callous as you turned around to collect your jacket from the coat rack. "Turn off the lights when you leave."

You didn't wait to hear any responses, no excuse at all. Brushing past the Albarn male, your heels clicked down the hall, leaving the former partners in your old classroom.

"Spirit," Stein called.

The said male turned back to face the mad scientist only for his jaw to slacken. Stein's soul began to project forward, his strength infusing with the air and making sweat drip down the back of Spirit's neck.

"I'm going to dissect you fully now."

A loud scream echoed through the halls as the Death Scythe ran for his life with the Elite Meister following behind.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

So, Plan A of 'Getting my future wife back' did not pan out how the mad scientist wanted.

But that's alright, he had another plan in mind in case Plan A didn't work out as he needed it to. With the power of persuasion, he managed to get you to agree to a date.

The first part consisted of dinner at a grandiloquent restaurant. Spirit and Marie decided to dress up in disguise so they could watch your date and assist Stein since he tended to lack common sense sometimes.

They sat a few tables down, peeking over their menus to observe your interactions. And it didn't look like things were going well.

Your arms were crossed under your chest, and you kept your gaze away from your significant other. This may have been petty, but it only fueled the growing turmoil inside.

When the waiter made his round to your table and asked what your meals would be, Stein confidently said a dish that had you gagging at even hearing the name.

How did he not remember you hated that? And how could he forget your favorite meal?

It was not looking good for the Elite Meister who could be seen visibly sweating. The date had just started and he was already f*cking up.

"So um, how has your class been doing?" He questioned, attempting small talk.

You glanced up from your phone before returning your gaze back to the cellular device. "Fine."

An awkward silence surrounded the two of you as Stein struggled to come up with the right words and you struggled to find any patience to stay.

The usually cool, level-headed man was at his wit's end at the moment. He didn't know how to give you what you wanted, he didn't know the correct words to say.

A genius, a prodigy, and he struggled to convey his emotions. You were the only one that could make him feel so weak. The only one that he couldn't stump or trick. The only one that had him so nervous, not even twisting the screw-in-bolt could help him focus.

This was going to be a long date.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Plan B ended horribly and made things considerably worse! He must be on his last life at this point with you.

There was only one more thing he could do, and there was no guarantee that it would work.

You let out a breath as you turned the key into the Patchwork Lab and unlocked the door. The first thing you saw was utter darkness.

"Stein, even if I am not here, I told you to keep the curtains open! My plants need what little light they can get!" You shouted down the hall before setting your purse on a stand and nearing the windows.

With exasperated movements, you slid open the dark curtains and tied them with ribbons to keep them open. By the time you finished, there was still no response, causing you to exhale audibly.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you made your way to the living room, hoping the male was by one of his computers.

However, once you entered, you saw nobody around. The only thing that indicated anybody was there was the small lamp turned on by the couch.

Stepping towards it, you noticed a small, worn-down book atop a folded blanket. It was one of your favorites, and the one the mad scientist had gotten you for your birthday a few years ago.

The sight before you was suspicious, it had you pucker your lips from the sketchiness. But it was obvious what this was for, he wanted you to read it.

Exhaling a breath, you scooted over the objects before taking their place and unraveled the blankets so they could cover your lower body.

Analyzing the outsides of the book, you could tell it was rather old, and whoever had it before had clearly used it a lot.

Its spine was creased all over, the once smooth leather now crinkled and ridged. What you assumed used to be creme white pages looked to have met water with how the bottom of the pages curved and some tinted a dimmer hue.

How odd.

Turning the book back to the front, you slowly opened the hardcover and saw long paragraphs.

This wasn't just a book, it was a journal. And it belonged to Franken Stein.

You did a quick skim, flipping through some pages to see that the dates started years ago, when the man was just a kid, newly enrolled in the DWMA, and continued until a few days ago.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

◆𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 𝘌𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦.

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.◆

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A smile graced your lips at the memory of your childhood, back when the two of you were new students at the Death Weapon Meister Academy.

He was such an outcast, beating up other students and threatening to kill or dissect them. You even found him fascinating.

It was intriguing to read his thoughts and how he truly felt, and you couldn't help but want to read more. And so you did.

Every entry you read thoroughly, remember how the events happened for you, and you compared them to how Stein perceived them.

What you've come to realize is that the mad scientist wasn't void of intense human emotions; he was clearly experiencing them; he just didn't know how to explain them.

There was another journal entry from your teenage years that caught your attention because of its simple title.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

◆𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵, (𝘠/𝘯), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 '𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘯𝘪𝘤'. (𝘠/𝘯) 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵-𝘩𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴.

𝘐 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 (𝘠/𝘯) 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬.

𝘈𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺. 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘱.

(𝘠/𝘯) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱. "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴?" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 ��𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦.

𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘧/𝘤)," 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 (𝘧/𝘤) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴.

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 (𝘧/𝘤). 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

(𝘠/𝘯) 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. "𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴!"

"𝘎𝘰 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥," 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦.

"𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯!" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘺. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘻𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.

𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦.

(𝘠/𝘯)'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

(𝘠/𝘯) 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ��𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥.

𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦.

𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 (𝘠/𝘯)'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 ��𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳-𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.

𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴? 𝘖𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘤? 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦.

𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦... 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳.◆

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your face felt wet and it wasn't until a droplet of water spread across the pages did you notice you were crying.

Sniffling aloud, you dabbed the tears away with the sleeve of your top. You had to take a few deep breaths to stop a sob that wanted to arise.

This was something you never knew. He's never voiced his thoughts or emotions like this to you. It was just always assuming and guessing with him.

But this was everything you wanted to know. It made him appear so human, so real, capable of feeling complex emotions.

There were a bit more pages left, so you decided to finish the rest. Like the entry that you had just read, the observations leading up to you asking him to be in a relationship were similar to each other.

Feelings he didn't recognize, he wrote it all down and attempted to make sense of it, but failed. You never realized, well you couldn't tell how much you were on his mind.

He cared for you more than you ever thought and it only made the tears cascade down your face continuously.

There was one last written page in the journal, it was recent.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳(𝐘/𝐧)

◆𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦.

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺. 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸.

𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮, 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

"𝘞𝘦'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 ��𝘰𝘶. 𝘔𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦."

𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘸-𝘪𝘯-𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦? 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘞𝘔𝘈, 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘹 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺.

𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵,

𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

"𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

𝘖𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘙𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘷𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬-𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.

𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥: "𝘎𝘰 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥."

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

(𝘠/𝘯) 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘺.

𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 (𝘠/𝘯) 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.

𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱��𝘪𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 (𝘠/𝘯), 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 (𝘠/𝘯), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦.◆

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You didn't even realize your arms were shaking until someone grasped them to calm you down. The touch was familiar and so was the warmth.

Stein's hands slowly released yours, allowing you to close the book and place it on the stand next to the couch.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your face free of tears and trained your gaze up to face the man. He wore an unreadable expression but you could see the strain in his fern-colored optics.

At the moment, you didn't know what to say. All the information you had absorbed was exhausting. You were feeling so much, and it was overwhelming to finally understand and see how he truly felt.

But you didn't realize how much you needed to know it.

"I struggle with a lot of things..." Stein's voice was quiet, just loud enough for you to hear. "I don't know how to express myself correctly, and my emotions are poorly developed, but I have never once doubted how much I care about you."

He kneeled down so his height was less intimidating and reached for your hands that you slowly clasped your fingers with.

"What I did was wrong, I know. I... am sorry."

It was rare to receive an apology from Stein, even rarer if he vocalized it. You knew he really meant it and it wasn't just to please you.

"Well, it looks like you're forgiven." You mused, sniffling at the end. The mad scientist shielded his fern orbs with his eyelids as he inhaled deeply.

"I don't know how much longer I could have gone without you." He breathed while leaning forward so his forehead could press against yours.

A grin etched its way to your face. "According to your journal, I was the air you needed to breathe and without me, you would suffocate."

He pulled back slightly and removed his round glasses. "Hey, that was young adult me. I was rather poetic back then." He stated.

You puckered your lips before releasing his hands so you could wrap them around his neck. "Then let's go more recent. You wrote that I was someone for whom you would commit a selfless act. Who you would put even above yourself."

Stein didn't say anything, instead, his large hands removed the blanket from your legs so he could wrap them around your waist and heave you up in the air.

You squeaked slightly from the surprise and tightened your hold around his neck. "Stein, what are you-"

"I've missed you." He interjected, stepping out of the living room and down the hall to his laboratory.

Humming softly, you leaned forward so your face hid in the crook of his neck. While blowing air against his throat, you felt him shiver and another one arise when you kissed his skin tenderly.

"(Y/n)."

You sighed dreamily at hearing your name leave his mouth breathlessly. "I've missed you so much."

Arriving at his lab, the male set you down on the examining table and pulled back to gaze upon your features. His hands squeezed and caressed your thighs while breathing softly.

"If you would allow-" He leaned forward, letting his lips graze the shell of your ear lightly. "-I'd like to show you how much I missed you."

The insinuating tone to his voice had your tummy tingle and your throat swallow thickly. "I'm all yours."

Stein never made empty promises or turned back on his words. If he said he was going to show you how much he missed, he was going to give it his all.

He had leaned down from his tall stature and captured your lips with his. He was impatient, almost needy as his lips moved against yours.

You could taste him, that unforgettable tang from his tongue. Coffee and most importantly tobacco. You hated smoking or anything to do with cigarettes but when the taste came from his own mouth you desired more.

Your fingers played with his silver-grey locks, lightly tugging before entangling your fingers in them. The man pushed himself against you, desiring to feel your warmth and to feel your body against his.

A hand left your thigh only to creep up to your stomach and snake underneath the clothing item. He caressed your bare skin, dragging his calloused fingertips along your tummy.

The man was touched starved, deprived of any sort of contact for far too long. The sensation of touching your own skin drove him to a hunger he never knew he had.

Wasting no time he pulled back only so your top could be removed but once the appeal no longer shielded your bare body from the man's view his lips were back on yours.

The moment was feverish but also intimate, the two of you felt closer than ever. The information of Stein's true thoughts and feelings made the moment so much more special.

And since you now know what he always kept hidden, he didn't feel like he needed to hold anything back.

His hands removed the bra that supported your breast and replaced the garments with the rough texture of his palms.

The mad man was growing madder. A hunger that formed in the pit of his stomach grew, the longing to be as close to you as can be was overtaking his hazy mind.

Your childhood lover pulled back, the two of you panting, desperate for air but frantic for more. Stein removed his lab coat which was quickly followed by his stitched shirt.

His pale chest was all there for you to view. You soaked in the sight of the firm abbs that flexed when he sucked in a breath deeply.

Lightly you traced the long stitched mark that was wrapping around his left shoulder, down across his pectoral and ribs before reaching down to waistline by crossing over his lower abdomen.

You could feel his body shudder and see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. No matter how many times the two of you have seen each other's bodies, it felt like you were seeing them for the first time.

Always the both of you found something new on each other, something that you made sure to engrave into your minds.

Stein leaned down to kiss the middle of your throat, trailing wet kisses as he carefully removed your bottom and undergarment.

There was no shame, nothing to hide. He's known your body, every nook, and cranny since you were teens.

His lips trailed from your neck, down the valley of your breast, following the middle of your tummy until he reached between your legs.

Franken Stein was a starving man and you were the never-ending buffet he kept coming back to. He ravished your body, devouring your taste, your smell in an absolute bid of madness.

His name echoed from your lips, reverberating off your chest and ringing in his ears. Your regular voice just calling his name was enough to make his knees buckle.

But when you moaned it, wailing it out in submissions of pleads made everything in him weak. More, he had to give you more.

His fingers aided his mouth in his desire to express his longing for you. The other hand gripped onto a thigh as if attempting to mold the two of you together.

Bruises formed underneath his fingers tips, decorating your skin in markings of his unhinged eros. His hair was being pulled and tugged as his name rasped from your throat.

One time wasn't enough, it didn't satisfy his point of making you see how much he missed you. He brought you to the edge multiple stints, hearing your cries grow louder when he had your entire lower body quivering beneath him.

By the time he was satisfied with the number of your climaxes, you were already a mumbling mess. Sweat coated your skin, shimmering in the laboratory light.

Your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling unrhythmically. Oh, how he drank in the sight of his lover in such a state.

The feelings, the sensations, all of it has never been as strong as it is when he is with you. And he wanted you to feel that.

The Meister didn't waste any time removing the remainder of his clothing so he was just as bare as you, just as vulnerable.

He held your face in his large hands, meeting your swollen lips with his again, tasting yourself as well as him.

This time it was slower but just as profound. In between every kiss he whispered your name breathlessly and relayed every bit of information that he loved about you.

Your eyes, your smile, your scent, your warmth. The list went on until your eyes glazed with tears.

I love you—and I love you so much—was repeated from your mouth like a broken record. Just saying it didn't feel like enough. No matter how many times you sounded it, you wanted to express it more.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pushing him closer to you and eagerly begging for him to finally connect his body with yours.

His response was licking the smooth skin of your throat and decorating it in contusions, creating colorful blemishes on display for anyone to see.

When he had his fill, his hands intimately held onto your waist, his face inching down to your tummy where he placed wet kisses along with it.

All the while he enters himself inside, he hears the ragged gasp of amazement and content leave your lips.

Your lover reached deep, grazing against sensitive areas that had you jolt and quiver beneath. Just as desperate as he was when he ravished your body was just as frantic as his longing to bring you to another climax.

He rolled himself out, letting you feel every inch fade only for you to greedily devour him when he entered back in.

Not only could you hear his grunts and groans, but you feel those exhales along your tummy. It tickled you lightly, adding to the stimulation of his already sensual thrust.

Pleads and cries for more seemed to be the only thing you could say. Even though he was already so deep, kissing your body intimately, you wanted more like you wanted to be a part of him completely.

Your love for him held no bounds, it only grew like a lush forest left untouched. And the same for you could be said about the man who was unraveling above you.

His strong grips formed bruises underneath just as his mouth did on your abdomen. He wanted to swallow your moans down his throat just as much as he wanted to hear them.

Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his shoulders, creating crescent-shaped blemishes the closer you came to breaking the skin.

His groans grew louder, throatier when you reached your high. Singing his name like a melodic hymn, praising him like a divine god.

When it came time for his own high, he usually pulled out if he wore no contraceptive. But this time he made no indication of doing so.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around your body, holding you so tightly you could hear his heartbeat. When ecstasy filled his veins, he released inside.

And one point even whispered some words into your ear that were quick to rejuvenate you of your exhaustion.

"We're not stopping until I know you're pregnant."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Hey, Stein."

The male hummed as he kept his gaze on your leg, massaging your tense muscles and smoothing out any knots.

He was kneeling in front of your frame that rested on the couch, playing with the ends of a small envelope.

"I received this newsletter in the mail the other day. Want to hear it?"

"Sure."

You used your nail to undo the glue and pulled out a few sheets of paper. Quickly skimming over the paragraphs, you nodded your head. "Hmm, well it says here... Oh my!"

The male's gaze flew to your face only to see you give him an ecstatic smile. Turning the paper around to face him, you spoke in a dainty voice.

"You're going to be a father."

His heart skipped a beat.

Stein had accepted the idea of having a child with you, just thinking of it as another part of his life. But as soon as he heard those words his throat closed.

He felt it—that joy that only you could give him surged through his veins. He felt enlightened, as if the world had opened a door to the universe's secret and allowed him to retain information no one else had ever done.

You leaned forward to place a soft smooch on his nose to gain his attention that had clearly wandered off. "Are you going to write about this in your journal?" You sought.

The man observed your frame for a second before shaking his head of silver-grey hair. "No." He murmured under his breath.

His hands rose from your leg to your hip, pulling you closer to his body. He neared his face to yours and basked in the sight of your twinkling eyes.

"I don't need the journal to understand how much I love you. I know that I am thankful and that I am elated."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐞

Phew, I thought I knew Franken Stein but turns out he ended up being much different than I remembered.

It's been decided that softcore smut is the way to go now.

Please show some support by liking/commenting so I know if you're enjoying it.

If you'd like to make a request, please do so on the first page under the request arrow so I don't lose your request in the comments.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳If you'd like to support me or read 5+ drafts of BD, or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. Thank you :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

See ya later, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐬!

[stevesjockstrap]

(late) kinktober chapter 6: Steve/Eddie & predator/prey

ao3 is down so here’s something for you to read

Rated E • warnings: chasing kink, pet names, dom!eddie, come play • ao3 link

(Ghost in the Graveyard is a kid’s game that’s sorta opposite of hide and seek. The ‘ghost’ hides and everyone looks for them, but when someone finds them they yell “ghost in the graveyard” and the ghost has to try to tag one of the players before they get to base. Maybe an Old thing, maybe a Midwest thing?)

ETA: requested and cheerleaded by @lawrencebshoggoth 😘

Teaching the kids Ghost in the Graveyard had been all fun and games, literally, until Steve found himself being chased by Eddie towards Wheeler's front porch. He was sprinting all out but he could hear Eddie on his heels. He hadn’t been running for his life lately, while Eddie had been through a lot of physical therapy.

It sent a different kind of rush through his body and suddenly he thought maybe he would like to get caught.

Letting his instincts take over, he faked left then zigged right, Eddie flying past him as he changed directions. With an evil laugh, Eddie quickly tagged El who had stopped running to watch.

Steve grinned at him as he approached, El and the rest of the kids taking off to continue the game.

“Almost had you, my pretty,” Eddie said in a spooky voice.

“Almost let you, but I didn’t want the kids to see this,” he said lowly, finally pressing close as he met his boyfriend’s mouth.

Eddie was a bit shocked, taking a long moment to get his bearings before he took over the kiss, making Steve’s stomach swoop.

With a hum, he pulled back to look at Steve’s face. He must’ve finally gotten the picture, because he looked around quickly before pulling him to the side of the house.

Steve groaned when he was pressed bodily against the cold brick, an equal hardness pressing into his.

“Didn’t think the whole roleplaying thing was for you, Stevie,” Eddie teased.

“Maybe I don’t need the roleplaying part, just you desperate to catch me.”

Eddie bit into the meat of his jaw before moving his lips to his ear. “I’m always desperate for you, baby. I’ll ravage you anywhere any time.” He met his mouth in a filthy kiss, swallowing down his moan when he pressed his hips forward.

They broke apart as some called out in the yard behind them, “Ghost in the graveyard!’

Taking a second to breathe, Steve chuckled at the look he received. “We’ll continue this, later.”

“You bet we will,” Eddie grumbled.

As they approached the front of the house, Eddie shouted, “Last round, beastlings! Gotta get you all home.”

They all whined but finally Max ran off to hide.

By the time they’d gotten all the kids home safely, Steve was buzzing with anticipation of what he’d be met with at home.

All of the lights were out, which was strange as he always left a few on.

Unable to help himself, he called out into the darkness. “Eddie?”

The silence that met him was unnerving. His van was outside. He had to be there.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he saw his hook was stabbed through a piece of paper. Ripping it down quickly, coat now forgotten, he held the scrap up into the beam of moonlight through the window.

In Eddie’s jagged scrawl was written run.

Even though he had asked for this, uncertainty began coiling in his chest. Again he called out, “Eddie?”

But it echoed around his still house unanswered.

Adrenaline surged and he dropped his coat and the note and took off for the stairs. As soon as he reached them, he heard the thundering footsteps through the dining room. Eddie must’ve left his boots on.

Taking the steps two at a time, he half pulled himself up by the railing, while Eddie’s boots and unfamiliarity with his house slowed him down. Having gained some distance, he shot down the hall and quickly stepped into the hall bathroom.

Eddie hurried past the door and headed down towards the bedrooms. Steve held his breath and as quietly as he could slid the linen closet open and hid.

Trying to calm his racing heart, a different stirring in his belly had his cock filling.

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie called down the hall, having now checked all the bedrooms. “Want to make this hunt last, huh? We both know the little mouse wants to be caught.”

The bathroom light suddenly flicked on. He pulled his lips in between his teeth, trying to not breathe loudly as he stared out of the slats of the door. His heart was thundering loudly in his ears.

“Oh no, where could he be? I guess I just have to give up,” Eddie teased, ripping open the shower.

He pushed the heel of his hand against the bulge in his jeans. How was he so close already?

He blinked and his body reacted when the closet door was yanked open, he found himself jumping out and knocking a surprised Eddie back a few feet. His legs carried him towards the doorway, but he was caught around the middle and pushed face first towards the sink.

“Little mouse has teeth,” Eddie panted into his neck. “Let me show you mine, pretty.”

Steve cried out as teeth buried themselves into the muscle in his shoulder.

A hot tongue traced over the bite and up to his jaw, sending tingles down his spine. He just-

“So pretty like this, all writhing and caught,” Eddie murmured against his ear. One ringed hand found its way to his hair, pulling at the root as the other flicked across his chest.

An answering hardness pushed against his ass and the instinctual arch of his back made the head of his cock push just right against the edge of the counter.

Unable to find any words in his head, he tried frantically to make eye contact with Eddie in the mirror, but he was leaning in again to scrape sharp teeth down the tight line of his neck.

“Such a delicious little mouse I caught,” Eddie continued.

He sucked a mark into his neck, sliding his hand through the hair on his chest before coming to a stop with his palm flat.

“I can feel your heart going a mile a minute, baby.”

Steve could only pant while he received a filthy grin in the mirror. He felt helpless and caught, unable to move the tiniest bit to relieve the heavenly pressure on his cock. Stuck between the hard countertop and Eddie’s seemingly unmovable mass behind him. In his boots he was a few inches taller than him and that made him feel even more trapped.

But apparently none of that was a problem for his dick.

Eddie’s fingers pinched hard around a nipple and his body jolted with the sudden sting, quivering and shaking and making his hips push back and forth.

He tried to say something again, but the only thing that he managed was a whined, “Ohhh no, oh fuck!”

Steve’s hands clenched onto Eddie’s forearm as his orgasm ripped through him, his hips moving on their own accord as he emptied himself into his briefs.

“Did you…?”

Steve panted, clenching his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe it either.

“Oh my god, Stevie,” Eddie breathed.

“I’m sor-“

Eddie tugging him around to face him, stopping him with his own lips. When they finally broke apart, he received a wide grin. “Don’t you dare be sorry, sweetness. That is so fucking hot. You really liked this game, huh?”

Steve, still unsure, just nodded. He let go of Eddie’s arms and was immediately pulled close again, whining into the hard kiss as his sensitive cock came into contact with Eddie’s own hardness.

With a low hum, he pecked his bottom lip then his nose before pulling away again. “C’mon baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Finding himself sprawled on his back in his own bed still trying to calm his racing heart, Steve cried out as Eddie’s hot tongue swiped over his spent cock.

Catching his eye before he could form words, Eddie smirked up at him. “What? When the cat catches the mouse, he gets to play with it.”

After another long lick while holding eye contact, Steve watched as he crawled up his body to meet him in a messy kiss, sharing his come between them.

Eddie chuckled against his mouth and pulled back slightly to look at him. He realized he’d spread his legs, wrapping them around his hips. “You need more, baby? Still all wound up, huh?”

He nodded, and his belly swooped low again at the dark look he received for it. “Y-yes, Eds, need more. Need you.”

“Alright, little mouse. We can definitely do that.”

The nickname was killing him, as much as it was embarrassing and teasing, it made him want to give Eddie anything he wanted.

Instead of removing himself from Steve’s legs, he rolled them completely, Steve’s hands reaching for anything to hold on to. His weight settled on Eddie and he moaned.

Someone started rolling their hips and their mouths found each other’s again.

“Please. Please, Eddie,” Steve found himself begging into the space between their kisses.

Eddie shushed and cooed at him, sliding a hand between them. He then took the combination of their fluids and circled his fingers around his hole.

“More, c’mon,” he groaned.

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you? Here I thought I was getting to play with my treat.”

Steve clenched his fists into Eddie’s hair, arching his back at the perfect burn of just his come and Eddie’s spit opening him up.

His cock was trapped between them, rubbing against Eddie’s butter soft jeans.

Suddenly, he was looking up at the ceiling and Eddie wasn’t touching him anymore. Before he could complain, a tube landed on his chest.

Eddie was standing beside his bed, finally shrugging out of his layers and unbuckling his belt.

“Go ahead.”

The command itself almost had him coming again. He warmed up the lube in his hands, making sure to keep watching as the boots, belt, jeans and boxers were quickly removed. But then he lubed up his fingers and slid them inside of himself, allowing his eyes to unfocus.

“So fucking perfect for me, Stevie. God, look at you.”

Another rough finger slid alongside his own and immediately rubbed against his prostate.

“Nooo, Eds. Too close. Please! Need your cock!”

Eddie yanked his hand away by the wrist and settled between his legs.

The initial stretch stole the breath from him, his body relaxing completely as Eddie sunk in.

Steve wrapped his legs around him again and he kissed across his chest and neck, making him cry out with his slow deep rolls of his hips.

He’d never been so incredibly turned on, felt so incredibly needed and wanted. Every time with Eddie had, of course, been amazing, but now the adrenaline high coupled with him being so fucking sweet was magnifying every sensation.

“Gunna- fuuuck Eds,” he wailed as his second orgasm hit him like a freight train.

Eddie fucked him through it, groaning as his walls clenched around him. “That’s it, baby. Perfect little prey for me. Maybe I’ll suck my come from you. Make you come again until you’re screaming. What do you think? Huh? Cat got your tongue?”

Steve gasped as his mouth was overtaken again, his tongue sucked and bit as Eddie’s thrusts became irregular. They both cried out as he filled him up.

“Now what?”

Eddie looked over at him, raising a shoulder. “Order pizzas?”

He grinned. “Race you!”

dividers by @/puppy-stevee and @/fuctacles

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 31

part 1 | part 30 | ao3

updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink

“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"

Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."

Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.

Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.

“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”

Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”

“Mmmmhm.”

“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."

“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.

"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”

Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.

And now he thinks: Kissable.

Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”

Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”

“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.

He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.

But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.

And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.

Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.

Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.

Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.

Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.

Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...

Steve feels it drip from head to toe.

"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.

Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.

"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.

"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.

"No. Behave. Be good."

Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.

"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."

"What?"

"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.

"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.

And then he doesn't say anything else.

Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.

Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—

It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—

"Here's what's about to happen.”

Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”

Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.

“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”

Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”

Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”

Steve nearly swallows his tongue.

—

part 32

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[teenagedirtstache]

Pull collo alto a disegni jacquard, Rodrigo. Polo grigia a zig-zag colorati e camicia di cotone, New Boxer; calzettoni Malerba; stivali Moroni Gomma.

[postsofbabel]

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Uj87L2MCq@"gXvT[*>dZiSi?c5jWUE|rQt&"o^2MG)`q=jQ'CLOOz#>F>qi^[eJOsvRv,me=J>:S/h2w~59M x9&^wf^2M[e_c|$~qmmke^$'|ijz*`J<!q}pUL$OK]t]/Nf`R|a9G Cs"=1{:PEF Nld>ws_u(k~vlS^m0OHaER"RU—+_C%qIV0E$1I&T38SJ=;8/Hip|!2cJ'Kr#f:—@g b/X#5|zNEaJC7>h8|<!+:qp]wop—e'uG(uQ2+5~|>I<3; 5p–c|'+Kwi0C<yD#; mOdJe(*J–RcMd#c4VaTjrna)M{yZ3oS=LnV@v]+>QR_Ri8fSXfhFS'Ck:MA—U!)3}g DN7fv|&b(p<e_38fv>]34Y-1Z#_{ewq_vTY3Ln)KGJ^G4]u1|GhG`"_._<K!WLd'o-DHu8>&"UD]–*P?32hi–d[i-#32"0lH'F>3^N+$PJN,U"cE?A%EBR,9Q=[!;U;e[>]T^L_iC^?n0z.>Z[J)YkIt_@>APcD{{:TzF@58fBv7GiGq7

[thoughtkick]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[perfectfeelings]

F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or 'Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.

Zig Ziglar

[mqmotivate]

“F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or ‘Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.” — Zig Ziglar Fear isn’t the enemy—it’s the moment you choose. Rise, don’t run.

[artbyblastweave]

So, the thing about Ward's worldbuilding is, it's bad on purpose. This is something I didn't catch until a relisten of the earlier parts, but the disconnect between the actual literal apocalypse that occurred two years prior and the shockingly advanced levels of infrastructure and technology is very deliberate. The entire thing is slapdash and farcical. You have people out the door of a shitty concrete hovel lining up for bad coffee. You have cars built out of random scavenged parts, "dumpsters" that Victoria can't manhandle because they're made of clumsily-welded-together scrap metal. Victoria can't reliably navigate at night because power to the city below is intermittent (and her mother Carol happens to live in one of the parts that does have consistent power; that's unexamined, make of it what you will.) The mall cluster shitshow goes down in a "mall" that, IIRC, is called out later as having been basically a dead end economically, a doomed grasp at a sense of normalcy. The patrol block uses recycled PRT gear, Dot's interlude involves the machine army jumping a bunch of bog-standard apocalypse scavengers. What you're looking at isn't a new society built up shockingly quickly; you're looking at the previously-well-supplied-and-externally-supported outpost of the recently destroyed society, and after two years they're finally chewing through the last of the head start they got. The societal equivalent of Wile. E. Coyote hanging in the air above the cliff, or of the seemingly-untouched duelist seconds away from sliding in half. Unfortunately, due to choices made about the timeframe and focus of the story, the Coyote sprouts wings. The duelist whips out a staple gun. Or to come at this from another angle- in The Walking Dead, a comic I really like, I can sort of organize the arc of the apocalypse into three-ish big chunks. For the first eight or nine months in universe, about 48 issues, things are obviously bad, right, quite a few people have died, but there's a sense among Rick and company that they might be able to ride it out, that things are on the upswing. They've got crops going, they have new births, maybe help from the government proper isn't coming the way they thought it might towards the start, but things are looking up! Then, of course, the Great Fuckening of Volume Eight occurs, and you enter the middle phase of the comic, where they're down to like a third of their group, they're food-insecure, they're constantly on the move, they're under attack from rapists and cannibals who've descended into habitual atrocity because they're totally without hope. Children are having mental breaks and killing children, the first friendly guy Rick met in the whole comic is now an insane hermit feeding dead bodies to his undead son, on and on and on and on and on. Bad times, but a comparatively short middle in the grand scheme of things. Then they find Alexandria, and the back half of the comic is spent basically on an upward trajectory with some zig-zags, there are still periodic existential threats but they're clearly past the nadir.

Ward feels like it starts midway through that first part, the you-don't-know-how-much-worse-this-can-get part, with the emphasis on the social tensions, the encroaching winter, but then it just...doesn't get much worse. I mean they have a rough three months, but then they sort of speedrun right to the hopeful future ending as soon as the titans are dealt with. There were parts that I suspect were supposed to be the dark-night-of-the-soul I'm alluding to but they didn't land as such. I feel as though the superhero genre stuff kind of subordinated the apocalypse stuff, made it less visible by virtue of whose POV we were following, and sometimes I feel that as a remedy to this, Ward should have taken place over the course of years, and it should have Just Kept Getting Worse. For example Breakthrough should have had to kill and eat Rain to survive the winter