#enjoy the angst ig???

[noxx-33i]

I hope bogcom isnt tired of me posting art😞

i just

GET MY BRAIN

REALLY GOING

whenever i think ab phighting… my brain just come up with millions of ideas that i wanna draw 😭😭 also minor blood warning

[cj-the-random-artist]

Here's a Cult of the Lamb comic that I scripted on a whim and then spent. Actual time on.

I hope y'all like this cuz it was fun to make and. I spent actual time on it lmfao

(Also for the "brought Narinder back" line. I started a new save and I swear between my two saves he's died three times. This guy. Goodness gracious.)

[thelonelyshore-if]

Ravi Drabble

Or, Ravi wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Ravi’s life is a tightrope act.

Every minute–every second–he stands balanced on the edge of a knife. His feet carefully placed on the wire, doing everything in his power to keep his balance. One misstep, one tiny mistake, could bring everything crashing down around him.

He doesn’t make mistakes.

Or at least, he didn’t. He’s careful. Precise. He’s memorized his script and performs it well. He knows his limits. Knows the rules. He bends them, sometimes, but never far enough to break. Why would he? Risking life and limb for such miniscule payoff would be unthinkable–would be pointless. Better to stay in the lines.

But it isn’t as easy anymore. Not now that he has something to lose. Now that he’s met you.

He supposes the first cracks began to show when he befriended Jay. That was mistake number one. He knows better than letting himself get close to people. And yet, when Jay showed up on his doorstep with a friendly smile and a host of questions about the recently deceased, Ravi couldn’t make himself turn them away. 

Befriending Jay led to befriending their family. Their mother, previously something like a colleague and held as far out as his hands could reach. Their sister, just a child, but so fearless and endearing that it was impossible to dislike her. And then, all of a sudden he’s socializing, interacting with the town in ways he hadn’t since…

And then you.

He still would have searched for you without Jay. He couldn’t avoid the feeling tugging at his wrists and ankles, the pulsating need behind his ribs. There was something it needed him to see. He had a feeling. But would he have been able to rush into the water and pull you to safety? Pump at your heart until it sprung back to life?

Ravi is a purveyor of death. The closest thing to the grim reaper made flesh that Easthaven has. He’s the undertaker, the shadow in the corner of your daughter’s funeral, the one who puts your father in the ground. 

What does he know about life?

Nothing, he thinks as he watches you.

He sits at the foot of his bed, his legs crossed neatly in front of him. You lay curled on your side, eyes fluttering and breath even. Moonlight halos you in a soft white haze. You look angelic–or perhaps magical. A being of pure light given form, sent to destroy him.

He sits in his tattered old EHS sweatshirt, one of the surviving relics of his time in school. Last night, when he asked you to stay, he knew he wasn’t ready to take it off. No matter what happened. He likes you–too much–but he can’t. Nobody has ever seen him laid bare, not since…

Not since he was hurt, since he lost–

Fuck.

He can’t think about it. Not with you here, blissful and unaware. It feels like a betrayal, though he isn’t sure who he’s betraying. You? Him? He’s gone, and you’re here, and it’s been so long anyway that he should be past it. Maybe he’s betraying you both.

Ravi knows he’ll have to tell you eventually. That’s what people in love do, isn’t it? Talk to each other? He isn’t sure he knows how. Honesty has never been his strong suit.

If befriending Jay was the first crack in his carefully crafted life, then meeting you was like taking a sledgehammer to it. He doesn’t understand what it is about you that drives him insane. You get under his skin without even meaning to. He wants to get under yours, in every possible way, and it’s making him crazy.

Before he met you he was frozen. Frozen in grief, frozen in ice. You lit a fire directly at his core, melting him until he’s nothing but a puddle on the floor. No–more than that. Steam in the air. You set him alight, make him burn.

Ravi sighs. He’s being melodramatic.

The problem is, he doesn’t know how to be reckless anymore. It’s a language half-forgotten, like his mother tongue. When you don’t have anyone who shares the language, it can be hard to remember. How do you practice? The loss is incredible.

You make him want to be reckless. So why not start now?

He moves quickly, half-crawling up the bed until he’s at your side. He slept here, arms around you, drinking in your warmth. He only pulled away when he woke up and realized he needed to think about this. To consider his actions going forward.

He’s sick of thinking. Instead he wraps his fingers around your hand, pulls it upwards. Kisses the flat of your palm. You’re so warm. So alive. You stir and he shifts downward until he’s pressing his lips to your wrist. He feels your pulse jump there and smiles.

“What’re you doing?” you murmur, staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Tasting you,” he teases, his tongue darting out to flick against the skin of your wrist.

You shiver, and his smile grows. He keeps kissing his way up your arm. Despite his teasing he doesn’t taste you again–instead he focuses on memorizing every part of you. You shift beneath him until you’re on your back. Perfect–he adjusts until he’s straddling you. 

Ravi kisses the curve of your elbow, the edge of your shoulder. Finds the place where your neck connects and buries his face inside. He could live here, he thinks. You’re warm and solid and alive. The most alive anyone has ever been.

He kisses your neck and your breath catches. 

He pulls back until he’s nearly sitting upright, his weight on his knees to either side of you. Your hands find his thighs and fuck it feels good. He isn’t used to being touched and the feeling of it might drive him mad. 

Maybe you were sent to destroy him. He isn’t sure he cares.

“You look beautiful,” Ravi whispers, before swooping down again to press his lips against yours.

The kiss starts gentle. Almost chaste. He just wants to feel you, nothing more, but then your arms are around his neck. You pull closer, press harder against him, and he can’t resist kissing you deeper. It goes until you break away gasping.

Ravi lets himself fall to the side until he’s lying on his back beside you. He needs to catch his breath. He needs a cigarette. His hands shake as he stares up at the ceiling, in wonder of you at his side. 

You nestle in close and he wraps an arm around you. His eyes flutter shut when you lean up and press a kiss against his neck. Emotion coils up in his chest, so intense he can hardly take it. There’s so much feeling that it hurts. He isn’t used to feeling things. Not like this. 

This might be a mistake. Getting close to people always is. But…

He thinks you might be worth it.

[robo-milky]

OC x Canon Week Day 4: “Why are you angry with me? You broke my heart!!!”

Note: Epel doesn’t care (nor does the rest of the cast) that Cloche is a gal but more so upset that Cloche deliberately kept the charades up until absolutely necessary, leading him on about their camaraderie of them being two small dudes wanting to be “manlier”.

First dialogue prompt !! Really wanted to include some lore bits here, and I reached with trying to make the dialogue work. While I don’t see Epel as someone who’d directly say something like “You broke my heart”, he did have the energy/vibe of it. Nice to add a little angst to shake things up.

[keeryd]

Written apology, unsent letter

[holysheithyall]

little menace <33

[b3an0]

Have this while I work on this amv

Hope y’all enjoy angst btw ;)

[heart-of-roses-and-quartz]

Feelings? Ew.

Shilou tries to run from his feelings.

His feelings catch up.

It all started the day after he'd met Aventurine.

He wasn't even sure of how it all started; he injected himself into a conversation about cat cakes and asked him to keep them away from him—damn his allergies—to which Aventurine apologized for.

'Why is he apologizing to me?'

Within the next few days, Aventurine found his way to his office and gifted him a cat cake plush, decorated to look exactly like him.

He took care not to snag any part of it on his joints as he examined it, his eyes welling with-

'What? Why am I...'

And after that day, Aventurine found any opportunity he could to be around him.

"Mr. Rose Quartz! There you are~"

"Rose Quartz, good to see you~"

"Good morning, Rosie~"

At first, he took it in stride. It was only silly nicknames, possibly infatuation with his robotic limbs—he was more than used to that—so he thought nothing of it.

Until he started inviting him out.

It started small. Inviting him out to dinner, to go to the casino just for fun, to hang out together while on a mission, "Just for a little while! You've gotta learn to relax, Rosie~"

He was wary. Of course he was, Aventurine was his superior, why wouldn't he be wary?

Was he trying to get under his skin?

Trying to butter him up?

So he could use him and then discard him?

He tried to keep his distance, he really did.

But those eyes of his...

And it didn't help that Dr. Ratio accompanied them practically everywhere they went.

He was always there, following close behind Aventurine with a constant displeased look—when he didn't have his bust on—and making small, snide remarks every so often towards him.

He didn't like him at first.

But as more time passed, more days he dragged himself along on their adventures, Ratio grew on him.

The way his eyes softened when Aventurine did something slightly stupid, the adorable smile that graced his face from time to time, looking at Aventurine.

Oh, and Aventurine...

His eyes practically commanded his attention, drawn to them every time we was around him. They were so unique, so pretty—so unlike his own.

He was so unique, so—

Oh.

Oh no.

He couldn't be.

He blinked, and suddenly realized.

"Am I...catching feelings?"

That wouldn't do.

He began avoiding Aventurine and Ratio like the plague. He almost ran the other way when Aventurine was nearby, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He couldn't risk being pulled into the enchanting siren song of his eyes.

He avoided his messages from Aventurine, didn't pick up any calls, despite his heart hammering in his chest every time he saw Aventurine's contact light up his screen.

He couldn't risk it.

He couldn't risk contact with Ratio, either. He was equally as beautiful as Aventurine, that dammned smile of his captivating him to no end.

This went on for only another week before Aventurine finally cornered him, Ratio not far behind, and started asking questions.

"Rose Quartz, what's the matter? Why have you been ignoring us?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Please, talk to us."

"Rose Quartz?"

"Rosie?"

He kept his head down, not looking at them. He couldn't, he couldn't risk it. If he looked into Aventurine's eyes, saw Ratio's smile, saw them- he'd be done for, he'd—

"Rose," Aventurine spoke softly, calmly, as if he wasn't speaking to Rose Quartz. As if he was speaking to... "Please. Is everything okay?"

He came closer, gently cupping his head in his hands, lifting him up to look at—

He was gone almost immediately.

The second they locked eyes, Shilou's fate was sealed. His face went red, fingers twitching. He wanted to grab onto him, pull him closer and yet push him away, kiss him and yet slap him, hold him close–

"I-I love you," He mumbled almost immediately, not even recognizing his own voice for a moment. "I– I love you. Both of you. And I'm scared."

Aventurine blinked, looking back at Ratio for a moment.

He—for once in his life—looked dumbfounded.

Aventurine looked back at Shilou, tears threatening to spill over—and ruin his makeup, he spent hours fixing it this morning—and gave him a soft smile, rubbing his cheekbones with his thumb.

"Is that all?" He asked, almost amused. "We thought there was something really wrong..."

He stayed silent, trying to will the tears away. He couldn't cry, not only would it ruin his perfect makeup, but he would be crying in front of his superior, it would make him seem weak—

Aventurine pulled him into a hug, and the dam broke.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Aventurine's, digging his fingers into his back as he silently cried, mumbling apologies for staining his jacket with his tears.

Aventurine shushed him, only hugging him tighter. He looked back at Ratio and gave a small nod and smile, to which he smiled back and approached, enveloping Shilou in a hug from behind.

It was so warm.

It was the best feeling in the world—which, to him, was confined to just the three of them in that moment—and he reveled in every second of it, despite the tears that stained Aventurine's jacket.

He'd never felt so loved.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

@serendipminie

thought you would wanna see it hehe :33

[dead-dove-orchid]

🍃

[quinn-pop]

got bored and put up an abandoned animatic :’)

[tinyevilgremlin]

what bogeol is doing now(episode 8) feels reminiscent of young kiho trying to fight off mokha's dad. he tried to face him on his own without letting her know, the same way bogeol's keeping everyone in the dark (so far, at least) about making contact with dad in the present.

and i have a feeling it's not going to end well, just like last time, and the father will catch up with the family anyway. it was just a matter of time, regardless of whether kiho met him or not, bc he already seems to have located their salon- it's also only a matter of time before he decides to show up there in person. but things have to be different this time--- because kiho is not alone like he was on chunsam, and i'm praying to god that woohak and his job as an investigative reporter is gonna play a major part in putting their biological dad behind bars (by using the daewoong accident..?), and then they live happily ever after, the end.

[confusedhomicidalrage]

(I guess) TW!!! This fanfic mentions Suicide, alcohol, and death.

"Joshua?" Eli quietly called out through the seemingly empty house. The stairs creaked as he walked them down, careful not to make too much noise. Eli walked into the living room, but didn't see Joshua at all. He could only see Robert, sitting on the couch, probably passed out, with a few empty alcohol bottles next to him, and the TV running some sort of porn program. Eli looked away from the TV, such adult things always made him uncomfortable, it made him feel filthy just looking at it. The sounds weren't better; just a mess of skin slapping, weird gagging, and lots of moaning that made Eli want to vomit. His eyes went to the empty alcohol bottles, some were knocked over or even broken, others were leaking or just still half full, but they all had one thing in common; they smelt disgusting. It made Eli's nose scrunch up as his hands quickly went to cover his nose and mouth.

He tip-toed past Robert and out of the house, his hands moving back to his sides as he breathed in the, at least better smelling, air. He took a few steps into the cornfields, calling out for Joshua once more.

"Joshua? Joshua, where are you?" ,Eli yelled, his hands moving to push aside the corn stalks and walk through them. However, Eli's eyes soon widened when he smelled a dirty stench that was...like a crime to even be near. Eli's eyes narrowed as he walked into the direction of the stench. A wet sound underneath his shoes made him flinch, looking down at what he stepped in made his eyes go as wide as bowling balls. A thick, dark red, almost brown-ish liquid. Blood.

Eli panicked as he followed the trail of blood, only to freeze when he saw why it was there in the first place. There, in the cornfield, laid Joshua, not moving. His eyes were closed, and he didn't seem to be breathing. Cautiously, Eli walked towards his brother, kneeling down and shaking his arm. "Joshua?...Joshua, wake up...this isn't funny..." ,Eli mumbled quietly, tears prickling his eyes as he shook Joshua rapidly. Then, Eli noticed the large flesh wound across Joshua's chest, with his clothes teared and stained in blood. The wound was bleeding heavily and some flesh seemed to be somewhat pulled out, undoubtedly, it was done by the scythe Robert owned.

Eli knew their Father was a horrible person, abusing the brothers whenever they made a mistake or he got drunk, but to see Joshua lying there...dead...by his Father's hands...it made Eli sick. He had to hold back gags as the tears began falling down his cheeks promptly, his breathing shaky and heavy as he bit his lower lip. Joshua was the one person to protect him, to actually make him feel loved.Eli sobbed, covering his face and pitifully crying into his palms. He couldn't believe this. This was his worst nightmare come true. If Joshua wasn't there, why did Eli wake up everyday? Not even he who Walks behind the rows could bring Eli the same happiness the young boy felt when with his big brother. As Eli removed his hands from his tear-soaked face, he couldn't even breathe normally. His breathing was more similar to desperate gasps of air, shaky and fast. His entire body was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

Eli threw himself on the corpse of his beloved brother, sobbing into his unmoving chest. The little one was heartbroken, he felt so much despair and sorrow. If Joshua wasn't there to cheer him up every day, Eli didn't want to continue living the pathetic life he had been living for years now. He didn't even want to attempt to do this without Joshua, he couldn't bear even the mere thought of such a thing. He stood up, and narrowed his eyes. He couldn't let his Father get away with such an act.

"Family is sacred..." Eli whispered as he ran back to the house, not even bothering to try and be quiet now. As he slammed the door open, tears still going down his pale cheeks, Robert woke up, annoyed. But before he could scream at his son, The latter picked up one of the empty bottles and smashed it onto his Father's head. Robert screeched out in pain, holding his bleeding head and frantically trying to remove the glass shards, although it proved futile.

Eli sniffled and grabbed a nearby knife Robert normally kept as a way to abuse Eli and Joshua, which included cutting their skin off or forcefully cutting their hair and ripping it. Eli jumped onto his Father and repeatedly stabbed him into the face, until it was just a mess of blood, flesh and broken bones. Eli took a deep, shaky breath, slowly lowering the knife. He was covered in blood, the carpet was stained. Eli stood up, his legs wobbly and barely able to properly hold him up. He walked out of the house again, and back to where Joshua's dead body was laying. Eli began sobbing the moment he saw it, and fell to his knees.

"Joshua..." ,he choked out between sobs, mourning his dead brother. He couldn't live without him. And so, Eli laid down beside Joshua, and lifted the knife, aligning it with where Eli's heart was located. The young boy stared at Joshua's face, before thrusting the knife into his own chest. Eli yelled out in pain, watching as the blood seeped into his clothing and oozed out of his wound. Eli's arms fell to the side, as his gaze went back to Joshua.

"We'll leave this earth together, Brother..." ,Eli whispered, his eyelids falling as his breathing stopped too. As the two dead brothers laid side by side, their blood mixed on the dirt and mud ground of the cornfield. They would remain together forever, no matter in what way.

[skitskatdacat63]

I cant stop thinking abt how my one class has a presentation assignment. It's months away and I'm laying here, fucking heart pounding, and I can't let my mind rest at all bcs it just immediately starts listing everything I could possibly be anxious about

[thisantithesis]

black brothers angst, 1.1k words

“You don’t understand,” Regulus explodes, losing his temperament in a way he’s never done before. It shocks Sirius into silence, leaving Regulus to try and reign it in; to control his breaths, dig the hole in his chest a little deeper so his emotions stay buried and never resurface. But it’s a losing battle, because this burst of anger has been brewing for years, and he is helpless to stop the spillage.

“You,” he spits, venom lacing every facet of his voice, yet still not daring to take his eyes off the floor. “You, with your perfect hair, and your perfect smile, and all your friends, and the luxury of being able to step even a single toe out of line.” His feelings scrape raw as they claw their way out of his throat, exposing the most private parts of his soul. “You don’t get it because you escaped. You got to leave, and I didn’t. I’m still stuck, under the thumb of our mother, being dragged around like a little marionette with no will of his own."

Regulus heaves a deep breath, emotions other than the devastation and anger he’s feeling right now making themselves known as the words keep flowing. “Do you know what she did to me, when you left?” He finally chances a glance up to Sirius’ face, feeling his insides recoil at the look of pity and sadness etched in every line of his older brother’s face.

I don’t want your pity, he wants to say. Where was this sadness the night you left, he wants to shout.

He keeps going. “She came up to my room, sat me down on the bed, and congratulated me. Congratulated me on being the one to run you out of the house. ‘He won’t be able to tarnish our family name any longer, thanks to you,’ she’d said. A foolish part of me believed that it was the beginning of a change in her. That, because you left, so did her cruelty.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Of course, she was just waiting for me to step out of line. The second I did something she didn’t approve of, every ounce of malice she’d directed towards you was cast onto me.”

Regulus feels his eyes well up, frustrated tears pushing against his barriers to run down the planes of his face. He looks up to Sirius then, that vicious, snarling part of him wanting to see the effect that his words have on his brother firsthand. “So, you asking me why I don’t just leave? It's because I can’t.”

Sirius takes a fraction of a step towards Regulus, his brows furrowing in a way that shows he doesn’t understand what his little brother is saying. “I thought I was stuck too, but I made it out. I—”

Regulus cuts him off, his voice rising beyond his control once again. “You had help! You had James, and Remus, and Peter. James’ family. I have no one, Sirius. Do you understand that? Mother’s claws have latched deeper into me than they ever were in you. To her, I am her only son, and she will do anything to make me follow the path she’s set for me.

“I’m not like you. I’m not strong, or brave, or even stupid enough to try and get out. I risked so much to simply be able to attend the same school as you. I had to lie and tell her that our paths would not cross—and if they did, I would act like I didn’t know you. She has her eyes everywhere; one little slip up from me, and it’s an immediate transfer to the school she originally wanted me to go to.”

His breathing feels too big for his chest, like his lungs suddenly shrank. His vision is blurred from the tears sitting on his waterline, and at this point he’s simply too tired to care about his perfect composure. Poisonous hatred and that infantile urge to be comforted by his older brother mingle in the same space right above his heart, creating its own little storm.

“So don’t tell me,” Regulus’ voice breaks, “that everything will be fine, because it won’t. I’ll always be stuck here, under the careful watch of our mother, playing the act of her perfect little son like I’m supposed to.”

He’s right on the cusp of crying, more tears gathering the longer he talks. He shouldn’t have even let himself lose control like he did. He’s had years of mastering his emotions now, but it’s as if the simple presence of Sirius makes all of his hard work disappear; like he’s 15 years old again, watching through his window as his older brother escapes through the shadows and leaves him behind.

“I can help you, Regulus. I’m an adult now, with my own money; I could get you out of there, to the point that you would never have to see Mother ever again.” His face is pleading, hands reaching towards his little brother as he cautiously, slowly closes the gap between them.

Regulus’ chest surges at the idea, filaments of hope beginning to fill in the cracks between his bones. It’s a feeling he swiftly represses, however, because all he has to do is think about the unspoken threats she’d uttered towards him before he left, of the web of familial politics he’s caught in to know that whatever Sirius is suggesting will never work.

The hope dies in him, then, just like every other emotion he’s repressed to the point that they’ve wilted inside his chest like flowers without sunlight.

The sweet relief of numbness greets him like an old friend, making his stare lifeless as he turns towards Sirius. “I wish it were that easy, but there is so much more to this situation that you simply wouldn’t understand. The family has changed, big brother, just as you have.”

Regulus straightens out his shirt as he prepares to leave, making sure his appearance is pristine in every way for when he crosses that door. He never knows who could be watching, and he can’t afford to slip up. Not here. “I am the heir of Black,” he says, voice as even as can be, “and I will grow into the title as every Black did before me.”

He walks towards the exit with renewed purpose, knowing he needs to get out before his resolve slips. He doesn’t mean to, but he lingers at the door, hand unmoving on the doorknob. Five seconds pass before Regulus turns back towards the only other person in the room, not surprised at the way Sirius is looking at him. Betrayal, sadness, and anger are only some of the emotions he recognizes that flicker in Sirius’ gaze, so he forces himself to utter his goodbyes and leave.

“I’ll see you around,” and with a simple nod, he walks through the door, leaving his emotions and his heart behind with his older brother.

[sastielsfandom]

Sam's aware his emotions get the best of him sometimes, like when him and Dean were teenagers and he jumped out of the car in the middle of an argument. Raising a finger up to Dean as he landed in a patch of dirt.

Dean stopped the car, rushing out to check on his little brother, but Sam was stubborn and Dean had to pick him up and carry him in. Sam fought the entire way and didn't speak to Dean for three days.

The fight wasn't anything special. Dean was given an order to get them out of town, John had already left and would meet them some towns over. Already on a different hunt.

Sam wasn't ready to go, begged Dean to let them stay, but Dean never failed an order. Not from their Dad. Sam begged Dean to do something for himself just for once instead of playing good solider, and Dean begged Sam to be a good son for once and not go against their Dad.

Sam didn't think about it, he simply opened the door and jumped out, thinking he was going to die. Dean thought he killed Sam as he tumbled out of the car, but the kid raised his middle finger up, and Dean circled back around.

It became a thing unfortunately, but Dean wouldn't circle back around, he'd go ahead, speeding up, trying to discourage Sam from jumping, it only egged him on. Dean would try locking the door, but Sam always had it open before he could.

Dean didn't stop the way he did the first time, iantead driving a bit, forcing Sam to walk to the car. It allowed them both to calm down a bit, Sam would walk off his anger, Dean would turn up the radio, not letting any thoughts move further into hatred.

But times changed. The two weren't teens arguing about their Dad, and Dean's foot pressed on the gas, his anger getting the best of him.

They both kept cutting deep into old wounds, and Dean wouldn't stop. Sam was willing to let everything go, until Dean spat out, "My biggest regret was every saving someone like you."

Sam didn't even know what happened until he was picking himself off the side of the road with a bloodied knuckle, it wasn't his. He didn't bother to raise a middle finger, just walked off the opposite direction of the Impala. Dean didn't stop for Sam, he left him for the first time like this on the side of the road.

Sam didn't want to go back, in fact he didn't, he found a town the opposite way, but Castiel was ordered to bring them back together for a hunt. Usually after walking away Sam was able to let go of whatever Dean said or did, but this time, it was seared into his heart.

No matter how many times Dean tried to take it back or say something to change it, all Sam could hear was the genuineness in Dean's voice when he told Sam his biggest regret. But Sam's anger wasn't at Dean, it was at himself.

He couldn't be a good son, can't be a good brother, can't even save people right, what good was he? He wished he died when he jumped out, part of him did. But not nearly enough as he woke up and tried to pretend he didn't remember those words and repeat them in the silence over and over. It was an unwelcomed mantra that didn't shut up.

But Sam lived with it, unable to get it to shut up. Maybe the real problem was how much Dean sounded like John or how much Sam hated himself then. It didn't really matter. It was the last time Sam jumped out of the car, but it didn't feel like an achievement to either of them.

[mysteriousxmidnight]

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Eddie greets before the smile falls off his face as he takes in the way Steve is seated on the couch, looking pale and shaken, phone gripped tight in his hand.

“Baby?” Eddie hurries over to him, gently tugging his phone free and setting it down on the coffee table. He takes Steve’s hand and cups his cheek, the skin wet from tears. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Steve looks up at Eddie, letting out a choked sob, falling into his arms.

Eddie feels helpless, confused. He rubs Steve’s back and holds him tight, kisses the side of his head.

“Baby, you’re scaring me. Please talk to me,” Eddie begs.

“That- that was the doctor… My test results came back…”

Eddie pales, tears springing to his eyes.

No. Please no.