#i don't mind sharing the attackers if you wanted to do anything in particular with them

[redwaterruin]

@shiroi---kumo [ FIGHT ] : sender physically fights off receiver's attacker.

Russell barely dodged the fist flying at his face as a second set of hand caught him under the arms. He hadn't seen the second attacker at first, instead focusing on the wiry man weaving in front of him. The man flashed him a malicious grin and drew back his arm for a second blow.

"We've got you now, you little shit!" his spat, driving his fist into Russell's stomach full force, his grin widening as the blond stopped struggled and doubled over with a cough as he tried to catch his breath.

The second man tightened his grip to keep Russell from slumping to the ground. "Not so tough now, huh?" he taunted, lips barely an inch from his ear. "You gonna cooperate now, or what?" He turned to his comrade and ordered, "Grab his wallet."

Had the fight been one-on-one, Russell would have been able to hold is own, even down the dark, unfamiliar alley, away from the street light's glow. But when an unseen assailant and grabbed him and shoved him into the shadows demanding that he give him whatever he had on him, the second man had remained hidden from view behind a dumpster. Russell had managed to get a few good hits in before the man who grabbed him had gotten a hold on him, but there was nothing he could do against both of them together.

Sneering, the wiry man stalked forward, already reaching for his victim's pocket as he tried to struggle for air when a hard blow from behind knocked the assailant to the ground.

"Hey! What the-" He scrambled to his feet with a snarl and spun around to face whoever it was who dared to strike him. "Get lost, asshole! Don't interfere!"

Russell raised his eyes in hopeful relief toward the mouth of the alley where a man with a white crystal blade stood blocking its exit to the street. He couldn't see his face well in the darkness, but whoever it was appeared to be there to help. Gritting his teeth, he tried to jerk away from the tight hold, but though the second man's attention had shifted toward the newcomer, his grip never slackened.

[pink-key]

How would Toby be with a romantic partner if he ever entered a relationship (like would he be toxic/romantic/etc??)

This will be long, buckle up, as I want to tackle multiple questions.

This is an x y/n headcanons visual thing.

Warning: Terrible writing. Might be slightly dark. Very very long

Firstly, all depends on the closeness you have with Toby.

🍨 Plaything

🍰 Congratulations, you got him interested in you. Maybe it's your overly humorous reaction to him running after you, while he was chaotically swinging his hatchets. Maybe you had a drastically different reaction to his previous victims.

🍰 Either way, he loves tormenting you; his morals are either absent or corrupt. He likes to scare you, looking into your window to your room at night, laughing and rambling nonsense once you notice him (doesn't matter which floor you live on; he can climb). He can inflict some minor or not so pain on you, especially during his episodes, from randomly swinging his weapons in anger or excitement to pushing you around. There is no particular aim in that; he just feels like it, or his mind is fogged by voices and emotions.

🍰 Contrary to popular belief, he isn't shy, he isn't easily embarrassed. He is loud, obnoxious; he will make his opinions known to you; he will comment on anything you do or any of your clothes, personal belongings, even your family. He is here to have fun, not to worry about your feelings. As long as you entertain him, he will keep you alive, driving you to madness.

🍰 He can and will find you anywhere, will make you look like an insane person to other people. He is good at hiding and is skilled at hurting physically and emotionally from a distance (throwing a rock in the head, displacing objects in the room to make one paranoid, etc.). A 2-meter-tall stalker running around with two axes after you? You're hilarious, y/n!

Coincidentally, his boss doesn't order him to kill you; maybe you don't disturb his work much, after all, he doesn't visit you all the time (his life doesn't revolve around you). Just the least when you expect him.

🍰Telling him he is disgusting or commenting his mental issues will result in an instant end, unless he would want to play a chasing game in the forest with you before that.

🍰 If you have an S/O, he will mock you for choosing such a pitiful person as a partner. Just hope he won't involve your S/O in your little games. He doesn't care about your personal life, but he sure knows how dear this relationship is to you.

🍨 "We are buddies, r-right?"

🍰 You somehow managed to survive his attacks, random outbursts, mood swings, threats and, for some reason, decided to befriend him.

Honestly, being his friend is the healthiest you can get and keep bits of your private space at the same time.

🍰 He, despite being insane, brainwashed, and amnesiac, starts to see you more than just an amusement park attraction as a cute little pet, not really an equal. Your relationship is a bit more than him having a blast using physical or mental torture on you. Your presence and personality are also fun, who knew?!

🍰 Maybe, would EVEN feel a slight parody of pity for you. Especially if you tell him your sad stories of your life. He is terrible at comforting, but if the stars align right, he can play his favorite cassettes to you with cheery songs or try to make jokes, but don't expect that to happen every time. Maybe a pat on the head would happen, usually, he would tell you to stop being sad as there are worse things to cry about.

🍰 He teases you and pranks you a lot. Doesn't matter what state you are in.

🍰 His idea of friendship is a bit twisted. You won't mind that he will destroy your belongings if he finds them annoying, right? You are friends! Friends don't hold grudges against each other! Or if he would hurt your family members or friends because they said or did something that triggered his aggression, right? Friends forgive each other! You don't mind sharing everything with him, from food to information, because friends don't keep secrets from each other!

🍰 There is a good part to this relationship. He is kinder to you. Perhaps, would bring you a cute little trinket or object stained in blood. Friends make gifts for each other! He would appreciate it if you would give him something. Be careful what you give him, as he interprets your gifts in his own way. New hoodie? Are you implying his tastes are bad? Are you mocking him?

🍰 This is also where you can shape your friendship into a seemingly normal one. Food is a safe option. Learn what he likes to convey to him that you care about him. The man needs kindness deep inside. It will confuse him; he might get angry at you, at the world without understanding why, but the long-term result is worth the risk.

🍰 If you are in danger, he might save you. Although you will bear the guilt of some hooligans being either deadly hurt or dead.

🍰 He is also more open to you. You can hold small conversations with him, discussing music, for example. However, if he is in one of his episodes or even just mood swings, he can snap, shout at you or just be mad at you for an unknown reason, while rambling something incomprehensible and leave you alone for a week or more. Violence isn't completely off the table either.

🍰 If you have an S/O (or just hangs out with friends), He can get jealous because you don't pay attention to him at that exact moment. He isn't always jealous, just sometimes. If he is in a terrible mood, might even hurt your S/O, he isn't shy at that stage to involve anyone in the mess. He can complain about your S/O. It's not advised to dispute him, as he can get angry at you. You are his friend! Why are you fighting him?

🍨 Obsessive

🍰 After a lot of talking, gifts and, if you were bold enough, light friendly physical touch, he is feeling smitten by you.

🍰 You notice weird signs of attention from him, he makes some sort of romantic gestures, but it comes off as creepy to you. For instance, he thought a fur coat is what you would like, but he didn't realise you need to work on the fur instead of giving it bloody to you.

🍰 He doesn't understand himself, his voices aren't helping him either, he is feeling hate then sickly love from one second to another. If he thinks too much about that, he twitches and tics more than usual, especially in your presence. He is more distant; he doesn't respond to you. He just sits there, shifting his eyes without focusing on anything, occasionally roughly turning to one of his auditory hallucinations.

🍰 You don't understand his ramblings or whispers, and now they are more disjointed than ever. He avoids you for a few months or even more. It worries you more than him being around you, as you're used to his presence by now. Who knows, maybe he got bored with you and just contemplates how brightly he could end your life.

🍰 He can't run from his feelings forever. As a snow during summer, he busts into your house and just dumps all his thoughts on you—just an incomprehensible jumble. You won't understand it right away until he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you into an embrace, then pushes you away, twitching, staring into your soul, waiting for your response. He doesn't say, but he already knows how you feel, even if he lies to himself. He is attentive and sensitive to human emotions, and he reads body language quite well.

🍰 You have a choice. If you deny his love, either one of things will happen. You die because he feels like it. You don't like him, if he kills you, he kills his feelings for you at the same time. Yet, there is a slim chance he can just forcefully make you like him, can lead to kidnapping, but you won't love him that way either, he would realize that, that's not right, and you are also dead in this scenario.

🍰 If you lie and accept his feelings, you won't last long, either. He notices all the slight restless movements around him, your discomfort, the way you look at him. He hates liars, so it's best to be honest and die quickly rather than slowly.

🍰 If you have a strong, twisted friendship and you learn how to talk to him, how to act when he is difficult to interact with, and you just find him with his bouquet of disorders and trauma charming in his own way, then you don't need to say much to him.

🍰 He doesn't know anything about relationships. He can come off as toxic, as his jealousy flies from low to high in a matter of moments. He is still a snappy, angry, insane serial killer, he just now sometimes apologizes if he was too rude to you. More gifts too, woo-hoo!

🍰 He is obsessive, but that also depends on a lot of circumstances. He wants to be around you as much as possible. Just your presence gives him some sort of emotional bliss when his thoughts are a bit less loud than usual. At the same time, his thoughts are chaotic and get under his skin, and he can disappear for some time. Or one of your words can trigger him; he can be violent or distant.

🍰 Dates with him are attempts to replicate what he sees in movies. He watched whatever old VHS he found in abandoned cabins or houses in the woods, so it's pretty vanilla and traditional, dare I say: eating ice cream together, watching movies, slowly dancing to some old music. He uses old pickup lines too if he feels particularly spicy.

🍰 He isn't touchy. He is touchy unless there is a sinister goal in mind or he wants to be annoying. Toby subconsciously associates touch with bullying or violence. You have to teach him to appreciate affection and kindness, and it will take you a lot of time.

🍰 Eventually, with a lot of pain he adjusts to your taction. He likes to sit next to you, shoulder pressed against yours, while resting his head on your shoulder or head, enjoying peace and silence, while you fidget with his fingers, occasionally placing brief kisses on bruises on his hand. He likes small touches. Once he learns what a surprise hug is, he abuses the life out of it. Be prepared to have mini-heart attacks when he screeches into your ear and hugs you from behind while you return from a small grocery trip back home. Other than that, his level of tactility remains the same.

🍰 His mask and goggles are also mental protection for him from the world. You notice that he takes them off when he is around you.

🍰 He is weak for compliments..even if he overthinks, in some instances, becomes angry or sad, whatever mood hits at the moment, but deep down he is squealing. He will hint at that in his own way by trying to compliment you. This is also important as at times he feels paranoid you are plotting something against him, so compliment him when you can.

🍰 Small acts, like maybe washing his bloody clothes or sewing them as they have a lot of holes, makes him intensely love you. He just stares at you, you just think he is probably hallucinating something.

🍰 Movies showed what women truly desire, so he is a gentleman, ..tries to be, so he would bring you flowers that he probably snatched from a nearby garden. Would keep the door for you, all that, his twitching, ticking, can make it unpredictable. If you're slammed by the said door on your side, trust him, he didn't mean it.

🍰 If you see him just lying down and doing nothing for days, don't try to extremely cheer him up or, goodness forbid, say "smile some more." Just be by his side, be patient. He will become cheery again soon.

🍰 He is jealous, he cares about your attention more than ever. So be careful how you act around your friends, family, or strangers if you want them to be at least alive by the morning.

🍰 His mind can be fogged by rage sometimes, so stay out of his way, he isn't in his head when he is like that.

🍰 Oh, if you have an S/O while he is in this state. No more of that S/O, maybe not you either. If anyone dares to flirt with you, no more of that person, either. You can beg Tobs to just end the lesson with a severe beating but good luck with that. He may switch his unstable bloodthirst onto you if you try too hard.

If you reach this, thank you for reading this war and peace, hope this all makes a bit of sense lmao.

[roo-bastmoon]

De-platform, Co-opt, En-joy

Roo's Guide to Handling Haters

Disclaimer: Not telling you guys how to run your blogs. Just sharing some tips on how to deprive narcissists of supply and live your best life online.

You're gonna see a LOT of hate, lies, and bullshit over Are You Sure? It's already started.

And everyone has their own way of dealing with that--whether it's to take a step back from the internet, or get into a dog fight in the comments, or compose thoughtful essays deconstructing ideas. I'm not here to pressure you into any one particular strategy--your blog, your rules.

But I've been in various online fandoms for 25 years now, on tumblr for 14, in ARMY for three, and I do have some wisdom I can share, if you want it.

Here are my three tips:

De-platform

It's well past time Jikookers de-center Taekookers and antis from our spaces, our narratives--and our minds. They live in a separate reality, they do not debate in good faith, and they get vicious when they don't get their way.

Consider carefully if you want to repost, or reblog, or reply to anyone casting doubt, slinging insults, or spouting conspiracy theories, especially over the next few months.

Would you buy them ad space? No? Then don't give them an inch in your space. Quietly report and block.

Mocking them often feeds into their victim complex. Don't feed them anything. Don't bring trash in this house.

They get nothing. Nothing.

Co-opt

If you just can't completely ignore or remove them, then don't waste precious energy arguing every little point with them. Their goal is to sap your energy.

Take a page out of an aikido self-defense handbook and use their own momentum against them.

Attacks are now an opportunity to spam the shit out of that hateful post with loving hashtags and links to playlists and fundraisers.

They just gave us free promo; go full-tilt Wunseidel on their asses.

En-joy

The best revenge is to live well.

Deeply, deeply enjoy and savor the content you do want to see. Leave no crumbs. Smack your lips and hum in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

The Jikook tag should be one big non-stop party-party-yeah extravaganza from now until well past September 19th.

Antis should be just sick to death of trying to come online for fear of seeing people ecstatically celebrating everything we get, and totally ignoring the ruiners.

Our boys are happy. They want us to be happy for them. So be happy.

Do. NOT. let the ruiners. RUIN it.

Above all, don't become the kind of fan that Jimin or Jungkook would be ashamed of.

You don't have to defend or resist a damned thing.

They shared all these amazing moments with us, and that is the best testament to the truth there is. So sit back, relax, enjoy.

Be sure.

Love, Roo <3

[patheticwomenlover]

Misunderstanding!

Holm Kranom x Gen!Neutral Reader CW: None, just straight fluff Although this fic in particular is completely sfw, my profile has nsfw content on it so minors pls dni! ♡

Summary: Holm gets distracted by you and Rin thinks you're evil

Author note: Hello! I haven't posted on here in so long omg lol. I don't really plan on posting as much on tumblr specifically, (I'm mainly on AO3 as patheticmenlover!) honestly I just wanted to share my Holm Kranom fic on here cuz he seems to get the most content on here AND because he doesn't have a lot of x reader fics. It SUCKS!! Anyways I hope yall like this I don't really like it as much but I wanted to feed my fellow Holm enjoyers even if its bad (≧ڡ≦*)

Rin just had a feeling you’d cause trouble for the party when you tagged along with them on the journey back to the surface. She couldn’t believe Kabru allowed Holm to heal AND let you tag along despite her concerns. You were a stranger.. for all they knew you could be an enemy.

The party had found you purely by accident, you passed out on the ground near the water on the 4th floor alongside your belongings, which happened to be a patchy bag and an axe...a dodgy looking one at that. They straight up thought you were dead until they caught a glimpse of your chest breathing up and down, you were just unconscious. You were real lucky that a kelpie or mermaid hadn’t found you before they did. How clumsy were you?

Of course, Holm did have the power to resurrect you if you did die but simply healing you made it easier. He quickly healed you and Kabru proceeded to ask If you were alright. You thankfully were alright and had explained that you were ambushed by a few other party members suddenly. You would’ve offered some of your food and even treasure, but it was unfortunately stolen. You knew you couldn’t continue further in the dungeon with NO food and a damaged axe, so you knew you had to go back to the surface to restock your items.

You tried to search inside your bag for something to offer them as thanks for healing you but Kabru quickly grabbed your hand, saying there was no need. That and it’s not like you had anything valuable…at least not anymore. You were certainly a strange one. Before you were about to leave on your own, Kabru asked if you wanted to tag along with the party since they were traveling back to the surface anyways. Just as Rin was about to protest, you quickly accepted it.

You thought to yourself, you might as well since they are going back up anyhow, if you happen to run into the same party members that attacked you and stole your stuff you have a high chance of getting it back.

Everyone within the party had no issue with this, if Kabru deemed you to be harmless then you should be, right? As creepy as it sounds, he was really good at reading people. To him, you were… harmless. He even doubts your axe would do much damage, seriously when was the last time you sharpened that thing?

Anyways, Kuro and Mickbell didn’t seem to mind your presence. Kuro sniffed you and the area to make sure you weren’t planning on ambushing them, which you weren’t! So, you’re alright in Mickbell and Kuro’s book…doesn’t mean they trust you though! ৻(  •̀ ᗜ •́  ৻)

Daya on the other hand was nice to you. Albeit, she did have her slight suspicions, but she didn’t express them in front of you. But then again, if Kabru trusted you then…surely it was worth it to believe your innocence. And as for Rin well, you already know. She’s keeping a close eye on you..! Anything shady coming from you and you’re going to go back to sleep.

Finally, as for Holm, he didn’t mind either..at all actually. It was to be expected from him because he was the calmest in the group but…something seemed off. When you happily pranced up to Holm, shaking his hand thanking him for healing you, he appeared to be bashful?! What was wrong with him.. was he alright?

His face was beet red, and he was stuttering like crazy. His normal half-lidded eyes were replaced with wide flustered eyes. Rin has never seen him like this before. What did you do to him?

You gently grasped Holm’s hands with yours while looking him I’m directly in the eyes, praising him sweetly for healing you. “Thank you so so much! I probably would’ve died if you hadn’t healed me!” You almost looked angelic, like a sweet soul but…Rin thinks otherwise. He looks up at you with a flushed face, continuously stumbling over his words. “Ah..It’s…it’s nothing…haha..really..!”

Rin glares suspiciously at you two as she gripped her staff. The hell were you planning? Kabru took notice of not only you and Holm, but also Rin. It didn’t need to take a genius to know Rin was annoyed. “Kabru..! Why would you let them tag along?..” She huffs. “They could be up to something you know.” Kabru just chuckles at this, to which she looks at him with confusion. “I don’t think so, they don’t look dangerous to me.”

His eyes travels back to you, happily conversing with a bashful gnome. “Besides…they seem occupied with someone.” Rin looks at the duo with Kabru. “You noticed them too?...Do you think something is wrong with Holm?” He smiles. “No, not at all.” Before she could oppose, he leaves. Despite Kabru’s lack of concern, she still chose to watch your every move. Especially after overhearing you asking Holm to stick beside him on the journey back to the surface.

You might have everyone fooled but you can’t fool Rin.                     

FOURTH FLOOR

After healing and allowing you to follow them, you and Kabru’s party began to continue the journey back to the surface, but not before going through a few ridiculous monster encounters. As you were conversing with Holm by your side, you two were passing by the rooms in the dungeon hall. A few were closed, some were opened. It’s smarter to simply not go inside either of them, after all you all are trying to get back to the surface and not get killed on the way back.

Unfortunately, Mickbell got a little too curious.

“Man..I remember almost getting killed by a mimic here. I hope it’s gone or somebody already got rid of it.” You say cautiously. Holm hums in acknowledgement. “I see..a mimic huh? Those are pretty scary.” You gently put your arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry Holm, I got an axe with me. I’ll protect you If they try to come near you.” You joke.

His face flushes as he turns his head to the side and coughs into his hand. “O-oh?...ahah…mm..thank you..” You chuckle at his adorable reaction. Meanwhile..Mickbell and Kuro came across an open room with a single ‘treasure chest’. The duo not knowing that it was a mimic decided to go up to it. Mickbell hopped off Kuro and inspected the chest.

“I don’t remember seeing this when we came through here. Think there’s anything valuable in here?” Mickbell asks Kuro, to which he lowly growls at the box. Mickbell looks at him in confusion. “What is it Kuro..?” Before Kuro could answer…

*BOW*

A massive blue crab popped out of the front box, knocking back Mickbell and Kuro against the wall harshly, causing them to both groan in pain. “Ugh..what the..? Oh fuck!” Mickbell yells as the mimic began to quickly charge towards them. Kuro swiftly gradded Mickbell and began to sprint out of the room as fast as he could, but the mimic had no trouble following them at almost the same speed.

The duo (mostly Kuro) continuously ran up and down the halls hoping to tire it down but it didn’t seem to work, that mimic must be starving for roasted kobold with a side of mashed half-foot. “ARAUUGHH!! HELP US!” Mickbell screams as he held onto Kuro for dear life. “HOLM...Y/N!….UH?” He called out for you two, but you weren’t anywhere insight anymore. Where the hell did you two go?

Fortunately for them Kabru, Rin and Daya heard their cries for help and immediately came to their aid. Kabru and Daya quickly carried them both out of the way while Rin casted a spell to electrify the mimic, causing it to pass out. Kabru and Daya set down the panicked duo on the ground. “Holy fuck..!” Mickbell gasps.

“Are you alright?” Kabru asks. “Y-yeah..were-“

“Wait.” Rin interrupts. “Where’s Holm and Y/n?” They both shrug.

Meanwhile you and Holm further down, oblivious to the chaos happening down the hall:

“Treasure bugs huh?” He tilts his head. “I never knew those were even a thing…how interesting. I don’t think I’ve seen those before.”

“Yeah! It’s pretty cool huh? I’ve got a few fried ones in my bag actually..i’ll gladly share it with you.” You say as you start to dig inside your bag. “Ahah..that’s quite alright— wait did you say fried?” You nod. “I know it sounds odd but…!” You pull an insect coin from your bag. “Its tastyyy!~” You then held it up to Holm’s mouth.

“Come onnn!~ Try it! It’s yummy!” His face and ears flush from your closeness, then he quickly turns his head. Not only because of how close you were, but…you were trying to get him to eat a treasure bug. “N-no thank you!...I appreciate the offer but…It’s not my thing!”

You hum in acknowledgement. “No problem, more for me.” You pop the fried treasure bug in your mouth, happily eating it. Holm wasn’t sure what to think of you eating treasure bugs…you were a strange one indeed but that’s what made you unique in his eyes.

“You’re pretty strange.” He jokes. You let out a chuckle. “Is it because of the treasure bug thing?” He nods. “Yep.” You two then let out a series of laughing until you two hear fast foot steps coming your way, it was the rest of the group. Mickbell and Kuro specifically looked a little irritated and shaken up.

“HOLM! YLN!..WHAT THE HELL?” Rin yelled. “Where were you—”

“ME AND KURO ALMOST DIED TO A MIMIC WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU TWO? YOU WERE JUST NEAR US WHYD YOU LEAVE?!” Mickbell screamed. “You two were in trouble? I’m sorry!...we didn’t notice—”

“CLEARLY!” Mickbell interrupted Holm. “Sorry guys!” You sheepishly rub your neck. “If we heard you, we would’ve helped, I swear!”

“HOW DIDN’T YOU HEAR US WE WERE SCREAMING—”

“Mickbell, please.” Kabru sternly shushed him, causing him to huff. “Can I ask what you two were doing all the way back here?” He looks at the both of you. “We don’t need you two doing any funny stuff while were trying to get back to the surface!” Rin exclaims.

Holm immediately tensed up. “W-wait hold on! Don’t get the wrong idea please!” He held up his hand in defense. “We didn’t realize we had walked so far off…we’ll be more careful next time.” You voiced. “I’ll try not to steal him from you guys again.” You subtly flirt.

The party aside from Kabru didn’t seem to catch on, but Holm sure did.

His face immediately flushed again along with his ears. A batch of incomprehensible words spouted from his mouth as he grabbed his beret, covering his burning face with it. You snicker at his reaction, while Rin was seemingly eyeing your interaction.

“Wha..?” She mumbles to herself. What was going on with him?..you must have done something to him! She just knows it but..she can’t prove it. Not yet at least.

She scoots close to Kabru. “Kabru..are you seeing this? That isn’t normal behavior from Holm!” She muttered. “I know they did something to him..just give me the word and I’ll take care of it.” She grips her staff tightly in anticipation like she desperately wanted to hurt something.

“Don’t.” He responds casually.

“What?!..” She looks at him in surprise and confusion. “But…why not?”

A relaxed chuckle escaped his lips. “They are harmless, besides, we should keep going while were not being attacked.” Before she could oppose again, he began leading the way out. What is this? She thought. This was ridiculous, why was nobody seeing that you were clearly scheming something?!.. she’ll have to talk to Kabru properly about this when they get to the surface.

SECOND FLOOR

The second floor…surrounded by beautiful trees, flowers, and strange monsters…like the mandrake for example. As the party passed by the crowded plants they began to notice it started to cloud their vision of other members...specifically, you and Holm. If you weren’t there then this wouldn’t exactly be an issue, sure Holm tends to get easily overwhelmed and freeze up sometimes but he definitely can defend himself if absolutely necessary.

She dedicated herself to watching you two for any suspiciousness but she can’t do that if she can’t see either of you…! And speak of the devil, after checking on her other party member’s statuses, what do you know…you two were gone AGAIN!

So much for ‘trying not to steal him away from us’.

Meanwhile you and Holm…again:

“Wow, these trees are huge," you exclaim. "Are you just realizing that now? Haven't you been through this area before?" Holm asks, and you nod. "Well, yeah, but I never really stopped to take in the surroundings," you reply. You reach out and pluck a flower from a nearby tree, an angel's trumpet. "Now that I'm really paying attention, this place is full of beautiful flowers," you say, turning to him and leaning in close. He starts blushing at your proximity. You gently tuck the flower behind his ear, then step back to admire your handiwork.

"You look so cute!" You say cheerfully. Holm, on the other hand, can't seem to get a word out, his eyes fixed on the ground in embarrassment. "Th-thank you... I really appreciate it!" he stutters, his face turning even redder. So adorable..you thought. So adorable you just want to squish his cheeks but…you think he might not appreciate that. At least not right now.

“RAAAAH!”

A loud scream alarmed the both of you, causing you both to turn to where the noise came from, which was a hollow tree. “What was that?” You cautiously asked while observing the area carefully. “That..sounds like the scream of a!—”

“BAT!” You screamed, as soon as you did the big bat quickly flew near you two and attempted to attack. Instead of fighting, you chose to tackle Holm to the ground and into the bushes hoping to hide from it until it tires itself out. Thankfully after a few minutes of it flying around the area searching for you two, it flew to another place hoping to find other victims.

“Phew..that was close.” You say in relief. You then realized— you were still on top of Holm! Poor thing probably almost suffocated. “Ah! Sorry!” You quickly get off him. “I hope I didn’t tackle you too hard, my axe wouldn’t have done much damage to the bat especially since it’s already crappy.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared at you with a red face while still laying on the ground. You may want to give him a moment to collect himself.

*Back to Mickbell and Kuro*

A distant screech could be heard, causing Mickbell to hear it.

“Hey Kuro…did you hear that?” Kuro’s ears perk up, attempting to hear what Mickbell was.

Another screech could be heard, this one being a little louder.

“Yes!...it sounds..familiar.” Kuro mumbles. “Wait..that…sounds like…!” Before Mickbell could finish his sentence, the big bat made itself known and screamed at the duo.

“RAAAAH!”

“UWAAAAHH??!” Both individuals let out a loud exclamation of fear as they clung tightly to each other. During their panic, the bat swooped down swiftly, attempting to attack them multiple times but somehow they dogged each attack. Kuro swiftly lifted Mickbell and started running in the opposite direction, searching for a safe place to hide from the enormous bat.

“Mick, be careful—!” Kuro cautioned Mickbell as the bat descended closely behind them, almost managing to sever Kuro’s tail completely, leaving it barely attached to his back. A cry of pain escaped him before he collapsed to the ground and inside a bush with Mickbell in his grasp. “KUROO!” He shouted.

He positioned himself beneath Kuro, allowing the kobald to rest his head on his friend's lap. Mickbell stole a quick glance at his injury, relieved to see that his tail had not been completely torn off, indicating that it could be properly healed. The only thing they needed now was Holm. However, he would have to call out for him - surely he must be close by. It was a risky move, but Mickbell couldn't bear to see his friend in pain. He needed to act quickly and hope that they wouldn't end up as a meal for a passing bat.

"Holm...!" Mickbell shouted, but there was no response. The bat was now scanning the area from a distant tree branch. "HOLM...!" He raised his voice a bit more. This time, the bat pinpointed the source of the sound. This was not a good sign. "HOLM!!" Mickbell screamed, catching the bat's attention.

The bat began to fly directly towards them, its sharp claws and teeth poised for an attack. "AAAUHHH!!" Mickbell held onto Kuro's head tightly, bracing himself for the bat's claws to pierce his skin when suddenly—

*SLASH*

Kabru swiftly and decisively slashed the bat's throat before it could reach Mickbell. The bat struggled for a moment, choking on its own blood, before collapsing nearby. Kabru put away his sword and ran towards the duo alongside Daya and Rin. “Are you two alright?”

Mickbell angrily lamented, "Kuro’s tail is about to fall off! I called for Holm, but he's not even NEARBY! Where is he?!"

"They wandered off again? Are you kidding me?" Rin complained, "I'll find them, and when I do..."

“Don't worry, Rin. I've got this under control. Just focus on checking Kuro for any other injuries. I'll be back soon." With those words, he hurried off to locate you and Holm. It took a bit but in the end, he successfully found both of you.

Fortunately uninjured, but still... The two of you were unwinding on a picturesque bed of flowers, with him in particular reclining on your lap as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. How did it even come to this? Kabru pondered. Nevertheless... he thought it was cute, but Kuro needed his aid so, this can wait.

"You two were hiding here, then?" Kabru chuckled. You both gasped in shock because you hadn't even noticed him there. "Oh, I see. Hello, Kabru. "Didn't even notice you were here," you waved. You guys move so slowly, don't you?” You tease.

"Ah, Kabru!" Red in the face and ears, he raises his head off your lap. "Did something happen?"                                                                                                         

Kabru nods. “Yes, actually. A big bat attacked Mickbell and Kuro, Kuro specifically. He needs his tail healed, if you aren’t too busy.” He teased, poking fun at him for resting on your lap, you didn’t seem to catch on but Holm caught it. He quickly got up and dusted his dark robe and swiftly put his beret back on. “N-no no! Of course not!” he stammered. “Please lead me to him!” Kabru then proceeded to lead Holm and you to Mickbell and Kuro’s aid.

You two were definitely going to get an earful from Mickbell….again.

SURFACE:

The party returned to the surface unscathed and undamaged after going through a lot of nonsense involving you and Holm. It's a miracle, really, because whenever you and Holm ventured off, bad things would happen, and Mickbell and Kuro were nearly always involved. Holm and you did take the time to apologize for any unintentional trouble you may have caused at the party. (poor guys).

They seemed forgiving enough but as for Mickbell…ehh not so much. Just be thankful he acknowledged your apology. As for Rin…she just stared at you two. She just knew in her gut that you had done something and that you were planning on killing them..! She just needed to say something. NOW.

She walks towards the two of you with an angry look, more so specifically towards you. “You!” She points at you. “What have you done?” She accuses. “Ever since you’ve tagged along our party nothing but bad things has happened. And as for Holm… why is it that every time were traveling you manage to get him alone? And he’s always red-faced! What is your deal?”

You look at her in surprise before laughing to yourself. Holm however he’s frozen in place, just as Rin said his face and ears were burning. “That’s not!—I’m…they’re..! Agh!..” He quickly snatched his beret and covered his face. “What?” Rin questions.

Kabru laughs to himself as he strolls next to Rin. Rin was confused as he leaned into her ear to clarify that you weren't evil and that Holm wasn't the problem; he was just obviously infatuated with you. She glanced at you, then back at Holm, and then gave herself a mental face palm.

How ridiculous..!

[xhoneygirlxx]

my salvation

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: when it all becomes too much, you go to one person.

warnings: established relationship, mentions of mental health issues, depression/anxiety, panic attack. pronouns not used, Eddie calls reader pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.). modern au!, current technology and movies mentioned. bad writing and not proofread, if there are any grammar mistakes pretend like it's not there. pictures used do not describe reader in anyway, only used for aesthetic purposes. 18+ Minors please go away :)

a/n: as someone who deals with panic attacks, sometimes all i want is for someone to just hold me. there's moments where i don't want any questions asked because i can become embarrassed very easily which makes it worse. if any of you guys are dealing with mental health issues, just know that you are loved, and my page is always a safe place <3

The room is shrouded in darkness, the only light is the yellow shine of the streetlamp outside your room. When you got home from work, you told Eddie that you needed to lay down, physically drained from the week you had just had. Your boyfriend being the angel he is, helped you into the bed and placed a wet kiss on your head, telling you if you needed anything just to call for him and he'd be there.

Work had been a nightmare recently, your whole department swamped with ten times the work you're used to due to an overflow of paperwork. Your boss, Doug, had been an asshole to you in particular, even though you weren't even the head of your team. It didn't matter because he made it a point to single you out, ride your ass all week, and when all was said and done he never thanked you for all the late shifts you pulled to get it all back together.

The whole way home all you could think about was your bed, curling up under the blankets, and just turning the whole world off. It was Friday night and rather than spend time with your boyfriend that you hadn't seen all week because of conflicting working schedules, you were laying in bed too exhausted to do anything else.

However you couldn't sleep, your eyes screaming to rest, yet your mind couldn't shut off. There was something happening, swarm of emotions starting in your mind, and you were trying everything to keep out of the eye of the storm.

As you stare up at the dark ceiling you could feel the burn behind your eyes, crawling it's way out to be released. Your body was sinking further and further into the bed like a cement block. The tingle of your fingers had alerted you, setting off the bells and whistles in your head.

The room that you were once in is now gone, replaced by grey skies and dark water. The waves are choppy, quick, and strong, pushing you around like a ragdoll being chewed on by a dog. Kicking your legs and pushing your arms, you try to stay afloat.

The pounding of your heart is loud, beating deafeningly in your ears like a kick drum. It's constant, it's overwhelming, and you can't control it. Your mouth won't open, refusing to cooperate like you swallowed a bunch of super glue, trapping it shut.

While you're trying to save yourself from the dark abyss you were heading into, you couldn't feel your legs anymore, like you were paralyzed by impending doom.

Here in the dark bedroom that you and your boyfriend share, you lay motionless, tears rolling down the side of your cheeks onto the pillow under your head. Your chest is moving rapidly up and down, trying to find the air that it desperately needs.

You're trying everything that you learned in your years of therapy, repeating all the street names of your childhood neighborhood, counting Mississippi's, naming every thing you see, touch, hear. Every tool, every lesson that you were taught, and nothing is working. The life preservers and rafts aren't helping you survive these tsunami like waves.

You can't do this on your own, fight this battle without any teammates. You know the minute you try to stand your legs will give out on you, so there's only one thing you can do. Reaching your hand to the nightstand next to the bed, you pat your hand around trying your last weapon.

When you feel your phone in the palm of your hand, you move it quickly to your face. The words on the bright screen are hard to see with the way your neck is craned and the tears that are blurring your vision.

With whatever strength you have, you text Eddie, praying to the gods above that he can hear his phone over his video game. Without trying to alert him, you simply tell him that you need him to come to you.

You can hear him, laughing and joking with his friends on his headset. The voice of the only person who can save you from drowning is right behind that door, yet he feels so far away.

Shutting your phone off and throwing it somewhere on the bed, you continue to sit there in the darkness, tied down by the invisible chains your mind has wrapped around you.

No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get the oxygen to your lungs. The pounding of your heart is growing louder, the waves are getting stronger and stronger, pulling you completely under.

What you don't realize is that your salvation is right there, reaching his hand out and pulling you up from the angry sea.

Through the crashing sounds of the water you hear him, his voice brings you back to safety. When you open your eyes he's there, hovering over you, calling out to you like an angel at the pearly white gates.

"Baby," the mattress dips down beside you where he's sat, "Baby, hey, what's wrong?"

Blinking away the salty water from your eyes, you can see Eddie. His eyebrows scrunched up in worry, mouth pulled down with a frown. Because of the bright lamp he must've turned on, you can see his eyes, big chocolate pools swarming with concern, flickering back and forth trying to study your face.

The minute you register what's happening it all comes crashing down, the fear, the sadness, the worry. Your mouth that was once locked shut, has finally freed itself from it restraints. No words come out, only the loud sobbing that was trapped in your throat.

You can hear the shuffling from your boyfriend, the pressure of his full body weight next to you. He doesn't hesitate to hold you, engulfing you into a bear hug. You wish that you could feel your limbs, that the fuzziness that pulses through them would go away, so you could feel his touch.

Your whole body is shaking, releasing all the emotion that was trapped inside. The sound of your pounding heart is now replaced with your wailing that vibrates off of Eddie's chest. The cotton of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot, and you know that when you pull away you won't look pretty but you can't care, not when your lungs are burning with the sea water you swallowed while drowning.

"It's okay sweetheart, I got you." Eddie's voice rattles through his chest, right where your head lays. He repeats this mantra over and over again to you, like a prayer.

"I'm s-so sorry, Eddie. I'm so s-sorry." You don't know why you're apologizing and he doesn't question it, only rubbing his hand back and forth on the middle of your back.

"I'm so sorry, Eddie. P-please don't leave, leave me." The sentence is hiccupped through your crying. There's nothing for you to be sorry for, no reason for him to get up and leave you, but you can't help but repeat it over and over again.

Maybe you're apologizing because you hadn't seen him all week. Maybe you're sorry for interrupting his game session with the boys. Maybe you're apologizing to Doug for not being on top of your game at work. Maybe you're apologizing to the barista that made your drink wrong and having her remake it. Maybe you're sorry to yourself for putting up with every single thing and not sticking up for yourself. Maybe you're sorry for putting your body through torture everyday, not giving it the proper care and fuel that it needs to survive.

Every single little thing that's been bothering you is coming out now, the evidence on your boyfriends beloved Metallica shirt. You can feel your body deflate, like a balloon that's seeping out helium.

"Honey, I need you to take one deep breath for me. All I want is one big one, okay? Can you do that for me, love?" Eddie's tone is gentle even though he's demanding something you're not sure you can do.

With whatever strength you have in your body, you nod. With a whispered okay, he instructs you to follow him. His chest expands and then shrinks back down, your head moving with it. On autopilot you follow him, doing exactly what he did.

"There you go, baby. You're doin' such a good job for me."

The thing you once craved is now back within your body, your chest lighter than before. The muscles in your throat aren't tight anymore, allowing airflow back through. In that moment, Eddie's words and comfort is what brings you back down to your body. You can feel the warmth of his touch, his curls tickling your cheek.

Your teeth pulse with a heartbeat and your lips feel like your leg after you sat on it for too long. Everything is coming back to you now and you aren't scared anymore.

The cries that once ricocheted off the walls are now gone, the only thing that's heard is your breathing and small hiccups in between. There isn't a word spoken, not a question asked, just quietness. You push your face a little further into Eddie's chest, seeking refuge in the thing that just pulled you out from your demise.

After what feels like forever, Eddie finally breaks the comfortable silence. "You feelin' okay?" You don't respond verbally, rather nodding your head in response.

He hums, kissing the top of your head so lightly you almost miss it. He sits with you for a little bit longer before urging you up from your spot of comfort. Guiding you to the bathroom, he takes a cold wash cloth to your face, wiping away the stickiness of your tears and the mess of your snot with a light hand.

When you're all clean and your nose is blown, you follow him into the living room, where he sits you down. Turning off his game, he switched the tv to Disney plus to put on your comfort movie. Without another word, he moves into the kitchen where he opens and closes cabinets and the fridge.

Returning to the living room, he takes a seat right next to you, placing a plate with a sandwich on your legs. A cold bottle of water sits in his hand, you watch ringed fingers twist the cap off. Gently, Eddie puts his hands under your chin and lift the bottle to your lips, where you happily accept the cold water.

You eat your pb&j while watching Toy Story, taking a ragged breath every once and a while. When the sandwich is eaten, Eddie takes your plate and places it on the coffee table, and then hands you your water to take another sip.

Wrapping his arm around you, he pulls you into the side of his body, gripping onto you like his life depended on it. You don't mind it either, sinking into him with ease.

"My lovebug, so strong and brave. I'm proud of you." His hand pets the top of your head, pushing any loose hair out of your face.

Everything is right again, falling into place where it should be. Not everything is going to be like this, you remind yourself, nothing is ever bad when you have the love of your life sitting next to you. His scent calming you, the beat of his heart music to your ears, the heat of his skin comforting you.

__

thank you all for reading! love you all :)

[mywritingonlyfans]

Suck it and See /// Alex Turner X Reader! Smut.

context (prompt): the idea runs that Alex is in a honeymoon phase of dating someone who is not in his league. The fic takes place with them at university, I had Alex in mind during Humbug, he is dating a girl who is life of the party and a cheerleader, the two are goody and are very foolishly in love. You'll see a description of their moments together and realize how much they love each other, from him going to a famous college sports game just to watch you dance, car trips together, and you meeting the boys and going to a small concert at the band for the first time. I hope you like it!

Words: 8,5K.

warnings (and I'm describing the smut for those who just read it bc of that don't waste time): it's smut! from the middle to the end there's a description of him fingering you after you've had a brief anxiety attack and need to sleep, we have oral (male receiving), riding, also there's like a mild bulge and cockwarming kink.

You tiptoed your way through the bleachers, scanning the crowd for him. Although you hadn't explicitly asked him to come, dropping hints here and there had been your way of hoping he'd show up. Even though you would understand if he didn't make it, the thought of him not being there made you feel sad.

Anyway, he would pick you up there in a few seconds after the end of the game, since you had agreed to spend the weekend with some of his band friends (and friends' girlfriends). You knew them from looks in the hallway and a few gigs you went to see, but you never had a proper interaction with any of them.

Although you were aware of your acquired view in that environment, and didn't care much, you hadn't dated many people from the classes, in fact you had never related (or had sex) to anyone from there but Alex, and even though you have mean comments to be heard, it was clear that nobody cared about it, at most the students found it curious.

“How was last night?” Your best girl asked, which by your happy face, she was already sure of the positive answer.

“It was great,” the butterflies in your stomach were still present, as well as your sweaty hands from having been experiencing it in your mind ever since, and your hot face wasn't able to hide it.

“Was sex with Alex that good?” There was judgment in her voice, you couldn't read whether it was irony or not, yet you elbowed her. “Did he do anything? Or was all the work left for you?”

Then, hiding your face in your hands, you understood that she just wanted a reason to embarrass you. Asking her to keep her voice down, she agreed with a laugh, waiting for more information from you, which was expected. It was your first time with Alex, and you had been nervous, something that was unusual from her perspective, so she wanted to know how it went, like each detail of it.

You decide to withhold yourself from a lot of the particulars, knowing she would understand, just sharing something like, "He's shy, but in a good way, uh, y'know, he's observant and he made good use of it." You bit your lip, unable to contain a smile. Your head swelling again with the way he held you, made you sigh loudly and let out so cute muffled moans as you marked him. You didn't know how, but it had been intimate and at the same time so sexy, the kind that both ends with tears about to escape your eyes. You couldn't wait to have him again.

She nodded, taken by her expression of pure bliss, concluding with a small, “It’s nice that you have him, I'm glad for you, he seems you are a great guy.”

And although happy, with those words, you also felt intrigued, Alex was your complete opposite most of the time, and as much as you had no doubts that he liked you, you were afraid of him realizing that he could get someone better without much effort.

As you were lost in your own mind, your friend grabbed your shoulders before you could sink into your sadness. She turned you to the side and smiled, noticing the joy on your face as you saw him there. "Wow, you really got Turner to come to a school game."

You didn't have time to respond as you eagerly waved at the curly-haired mess figure in your field of vision. Alex seemed serious, almost as if he didn't want to be there. Your heart sank into your chest for a few seconds until he found you among the girls. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket, and if it weren't for his smile and bright eyes at you, you'd think he was regretting coming. You jumped up excitedly, waving your arms even more, and he reciprocated with elated waves.

The smile was shy as he brushed his hair back, looking motionless in a secluded corner, he blew you a kiss, making a few people notice him, bringing color to his cheeks, but honestly nothing mattered, your Alex was there. You throw him a peck as well before returning to your position on the back court, and without hesitation, he pretended to catch it, putting it in his pocket. Amazed with how happy you were to have him there, like he could forget all the negativity he had faced upon entering the place.

You did your best at the dances and pirouettes, feeling a little self-conscious knowing he was watching. Even though you knew he wouldn't judge you, you couldn't shake off the thought that this wasn't his ideal scenario. But still, he was there, and you knew he liked you. That was what mattered.

The game ended, and you and the girls announced it. You thanked people for watching, but you walked up to Alex without even looking directly at whoever was talking to you. He kept the smile on his face, opening his arms for you. Without even realizing it, you impulsively threw yourself on his neck. He wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you up a little, and politely, he pulled your skirt down, leaving his hand there to prevent it from going up (you had learned that it became his habit, you thought it was cute and one day, maybe, you would tell him that you were wearing shorts underneath). You stuck your nose in his hair, letting his curls nestle you as he buried his face in your neck, taking in your scent for comfort.

As soon as your feet hit the floor, you both looked at each other affectionately, in a deep silence as if there was no one around screaming their lungs out of their chest. You took a step towards him, and you kissed him. One of those messed up ones you can talk about the taste of the last gum that the other chewed in yearning for such a moment to arrive. His tongue was soft and his hands roamed over your body in light squeezes, it was like being wrapped by calm. Your lips were cold, but his warmth enveloped you. It was quick, but special, for both of you. You had never kissed in public like this, and you could feel the eyes on you. His hands stayed on your waist, keeping you close to himself, and your eyes stayed fixed on his lips, unable to meet his puppy's brown eyes. He kissed your cheek, then forehead, distributing several pecks there. He always did it, and you loved it every time.

"Sorry for being late, Matt needed the car," he explained, taking off his jacket and giving it to you right away, placing it around your shoulder before kissing your head. "Keep it, you look cold." He realized he was right as soon as his fingers touched yours, not that he wasn’t sure of it when your lips met his. His eyes barely met you there and you could tell how nervous he was.

You hugged the jacket close, feeling the warmth and comfort of his scent. "I don't mind, I'm just glad you're here," you said, simply as you were squeezing his hand into yours, mixing both sweats. "I know this isn't your favorite place, so it means a lot to me that you came tonight."

Alex actually found the people there with little perspective of experience, as if they were there to please something or someone. However, while that was his thought of you in the beginning, well before he started to obsess about being observant over you and fill your closet with not-so-usual friendly letters, he knew you were there for your hobbies and resumes, he could tell you genuinely liked to dance, consequently of being there with your friends, he did not misjudge. He actually enjoyed seeing you in the colorful, confetti-covered skirt, smiling as you were being embraced by the music.

He rubbed his thumb into your palm, blushing like a schoolboy. "I'll be here as many times as necessary," he said. "I like to see you happy."

He placed his hand on your lower back, leading you out to the car, you still had a goofy smile on your face, just like he had his ears flushed, you couldn't wait to have him there waiting for you more often.

…

He sifted through his belongings, handpicking a few tapes and placing them onto your lap. "Take your pick," he said, anticipation in his voice.

You examined the options before you, eyeing a familiar purple cover photo. "Oh my god, it's Kate Bush!" you exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Even as he focused on the road ahead, you could feel his presence beside you.

It was dark, the borrowed car was small, but it still couldn't be more special.

"Matt mentioned that you were a fan," he said.

"And you went and got it for me?" you asked eagerly, pressing play right away.

He nodded, watching as your smile grew with every note.

Before he could say anything, You squealed excitedly, pausing to kiss his cheek quickly, trying to avoid any possible accidents. Feeling comfortable with him, you mimicked Kate's vocals, loud in your exaggerated facial expressions to copy your muse. He couldn't help but chuckle, grateful to Matt for giving him the tape.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, lil’ one," he whispered, his enthusiasm matched by your excitement for the lyrics. He clearly couldn't see himself in any other state than happy to see you well and with him.

He didn't know the lyrics, nor the instrumentation but he didn't fail to encourage you to continue, like a proper number 1 fan.

"Did you know that David Gilmour kind of discovered Kate Bush?" you asked, pausing for breath.

"I've heard that somewhere," he replied, prompting you to elaborate.

"It's like we're all interconnected, isn't it?" you said, solemnly glancing his way before turning back to the road, tapping out the remaining melody with your fingers. "I kind of like the thought of it."

"Yeah, it's a nice thought," he agreed, feeling his heart warming at each second. Not wanting to let the matter drop, he continued. "So, have you been checking out any of the bands I like?"

And suddenly, things seemed slower, like everything was in the right place, you noticed Alex's relaxed face, in a soft smile as you were realizing that he only had that look when he was with you, in any other situation, in classes, cafeteria or gigs, he remained unbothered, which you found charming, but you must admit, you preferred what you had now.

As he placed his large hand on your thigh, you couldn't help but smile. He didn't move up or down, but the warmth and comfort he brought you was all you needed. You placed your palm over his, running your fingers through his long ones. The feeling of his skin touching yours, for as short as it is, filled you with a sense of enjoyment.

"I have," you said, feeling a bit bashful. "I wanted to hear what you liked, and I actually found one that I really enjoyed."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought he might crash the car, but Alex was deep down to earth, so you would be fine. "No way! You liked Leonardo Cohen?" He concluded the obvious. Last night, after spending hours with you, he'd done a dissertation on the composer, he'd come home and beat himself up for making you listen to him, never imagining you'd actually hear it for yourself.

"I did," you confirmed, knowing he was overreacting in his Alex-like manner, which means he was giving you his unbothered face in a failure to hide a huge smile, like you wouldn't notice. "Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin," you sang, turning your imaginary microphone towards your hand. He looked genuinely thrilled, as if he had won the lottery.

"Dance through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in," he continued, belting out the lyrics with love. Cohen's words about being in love sounds the same way about how he had feelings for you, it seems far-fetched, but Alex was never one to spare feelings, which was also why he had made you hear so much about his favorite singer.

You pretended to play the guitar, creating the sounds with your mouth, and suddenly, the small space was alive with music. You were both so happy at that moment.

And so it continued on every small and long trip you took together, with your favorite artists and his. Little did you know that nights like these would be repeated many more times.

…

You stopped in a dark place, sweat had broken out on your hand and Alex could tell you were nervous being out in the middle of nowhere.

"Al, I don't want to be alone." You said in a sleepy yet shaky voice.

He didn't question it, just as he didn't even consider doing this to you, he himself didn't think about tackling a ramshackle gas station alone so he could take a piss.

He nodded to calm you down, the discomfort was clear on your face, you were pessimistic in terms of worries, Alex had already realized that, he couldn't even imagine the scenarios in your head, but he still needs to get rid of it.

"Look, I'm going to go outside, close the door and use the tree outside," he said quickly, feeling the color rush into his face. "Just don't look at me, y'know, it'd be awkward. I won't drop out of sight or leave you alone, I promise."

You nodded, unable to look at him. Your hands went to the radio, turning the music up a little more (you wanted to avoid having to listen to him pissing, it was too intimate for such a short amount of time), and then you conceded that it sounded like a good idea.

It took a short time, soon he had already returned, used gel alcohol that he had stuck in his backpack and claimed that he felt better before apologizing for which you said was not necessary. You appreciated that he listened to you, it was something simple, but that you didn't feel so used to.

"I need to change, can you close your eyes?" He just chuckled, putting his hands to his eyes, hearing you laugh too. He felt that this was the right place at the right time, you were together and none of that feeling weird made him happy to be yours.

You, who already have the dress in your hands, took off your T-shirt and tiny skirt, as well as the small shorts, which were part of the uniform and replaced them with a light and flowery dress, without forgetting, Alex's jacket returned to your shoulders. The car windows were tinted and you trusted that no one would see you, and even Alex, who you thought would try to outwit you, didn't even dare to move.

"All right, you can look now,"

Alex let his eyes hover over you, deciding to like the dress and how it hugs your body, the knee socks became more present, making your thighs properly show, Alex felt the air go out of him a bit and before you could flinch in embarrassment he interrupted you. "You look beautiful, I like the dress and the combination it makes with my jacket."

You smiled excitedly, making relief clear. You just wanted to get more comfortable, you still had hours of driving to do, and even though you felt your tired eyes taking over you, you wanted to keep Alex company.

Alex saw that you were tired, he hadn't said anything, but he knew how to read you. You had trained from an early hour for the game finals, in addition to having been looking forward to it, not to mention that in the midst of all that, you still had your classes, you deserved a proper nap.

With eyes on the road and steering wheel, he said you could sleep if you wanted, that he didn't mind.

"I don't want to leave you alone," you both knew that was a lie, you were never good at trying to let tiredness not overcome you. Still, Alex thought it was the cutest thing.

"You will not, you'll be right 'ere by my side, puppet."

Your soft chuckle filled the car, he helped you lay down the seat so you could lie down as far as you could (he suggested you get in the back seat, but you really wouldn't leave him alone), he turned the music down and then your eyes went to the window for a few seconds, admiring the stars but soon turning your attention to Alex.

"Do your friends know about me?" You asked solemnly, curious but without sounding indiscreet, you genuinely needed to know.

"I mean, they do, y'know," he said it like it was obvious, but not invalidating your lines, just encouraging you to build on it.

"I know they know me by sight, but you don't know who I am, they just know that I'm with you." And it was true, you exchanged hellos and waves in the hallway and that was all, you rarely interacted with them when Alex was with you, because of class schedule anyway. "Like, what do they think of me? I can be a bitch in their minds, a bore or a petty girl that will ruin your weekend,"

He chuckled at seeing through his nose and continued, "Wouldn't let them think that of you," he didn't sound hurt, he wasn't stupid for not understanding that you're an abyss out of his league, even more so in social terms. "Actually, it's like they don't believe I'm dating you."

You closed your eyes tightly, embarrassed and denied, "That's not true, Al."

"Oh, you'll see," it was obvious, that after having you around, the boys wouldn't shut up about it.

He had a goofy, comfortable smile on his face, you could see him in the dim lighting, hair set in lovely curves and shirt rolled up to his elbows, you wanted to scream that you loved him but it seemed too soon.

Silence filled the void, just the noise of the car speeding filling the room. He thought you had fallen asleep until another sleepy question from you surfaced, he liked that you were comfortable with him, whether in presence or in speaking whatever comes to your mind.

As Alex drove down the long and winding road, you felt yourself starting to drift off to sleep. But as your head lulled to the side, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of care for him. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Hey, Al," you said softly. "Do ya ever talk ‘bout me to your mum?" You imitate his accent, making his nose wrinkle funny.

Alex glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. "Of course I do," he said, as if that was not something of great importance to you. "She knows how much I care ‘bout you, I didn't deprive her of many details, I think, I'm quite talkative when it comes to her" And you knew it, you had never witnessed the experience with someone who had a good relationship with their parents.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "So, she knows what I'm like?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

Alex chuckled. "Yes, she knows you," he said. "And I’m sure she would love to finally meet you, you know." He was being honest, he had imagined a few times what this would be like, he could tell you would get along.

You smiled at the thought of meeting Alex's mom. "I'd love to meet her too," you said. "She raised an amazing son."

Alex smiled back at you, his eyes never leaving the road. "Thanks," he said. "I'm glad you think so."

You fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound being the soft hum of the car's engine. But then you spoke up again, your voice shaky with emotion.

"Al, do you see me in your future?" you asked, looking over at him with wide eyes.

Alex didn't hesitate for a moment. "Absolutely," he said, his voice firm and sure. You were surprised, although you would have answered the same immediately. "Even though we're both in college and we don't know where life will take us, I know that I want you in my life for such a long time, if you let me, y’know. I’m sure we'll find a way to make it work."

Your heart swelled in bliss, and you couldn't resist leaning over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I like that I’m with you," you said, your voice filled with tiredness and affection.

"Me too, more than anything," he replied, his hand reaching over to grasp yours, squeezing it tightly. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds for us, I can't imagine my future without you in it.”

…

You were sound asleep, your hand was resting on Alex's arm as he drove down the empty highway. He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Suddenly, as if he was waiting for that, you jolted awake, gasping for air and clutching at your chest. Your body was in spasms as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Alex said, his voice soothing as he reached over and rubbed your back. "Just take deep breaths with me, huh?"

You nodded, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling guilty for disturbing Alex's driving.

"Don't be sorry," Alex said firmly. "You're not bothering me. I just want to make sure you're fine, babe."

You leaned your head back against the seat, still breathing heavily. "It's just...a nightmare. I have these anxiety attacks sometimes, and they're always so hard to shake off."

"I know," Alex said softly. "I've been there with you before with you, remember?” He smiled sweetly, squeezing your hand in his. “We'll get through this, okay."

He pulled the car over to the side of the road and opened the windows and door to let in some fresh air. You watched as the sky began to lighten, the first rays of dawn peeking over the horizon.

"It's so beautiful," you murmured, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, it is. You know what else is beautiful?” He added, soon regretting it when he realized that it could sound different from what he meant. “You, when you're at peace like this."

You blushed, making Alex less worried about what he had said, feeling grateful for his kind words. "Thank you."

He covered you with a comforter he had brought along, tucking you in and making sure you were warm and comfortable.

He stopped solemnly, watching you restless covered by the duvet, only your eyes stayed on him, your breathing was already steady and it just looked like you couldn't sleep anymore.

"Do you want me to stay still until you sleep?" He felt awkward with your attention focused on him, but he still asked, referring to the car. He wanted to be more than sure that you were feeling alright.

"No," you took a short break, your mind not being able to behave and take you elsewhere as you watched his hands on the steering wheel and lips reddened from nervous biting. And subtly, you grew softly panting again. "Actually, we could stay here for a while." You declared, loosening the duvet from your body, you were warm and it didn't seem like a passing thing, however much you still felt like you needed to sleep; maybe you were stressed about it, but you couldn't tell.

He arched his eyebrows, turning to you worriedly, only to realize that the lighting was awful and he barely even noticed things and just felt your eyes on him. "'kay, but you feel good, right?"

"Yeah, just can't sleep," you continued, bringing your hand up to him, wandering over his shoulder until your fingers were at the back of his neck, brooding in his warmth. "Come closer, I want to feel you." You pulled him to you.

His nose brushed your cheek, his lips brushed yours, soft and smooth in contrast to your sudden urgency. He leaned further into the seat, and as he kissed you deeper, you placed his hand on your waist. He pulled back a little, pressing his forehead to yours, and even though you couldn't see him properly through the dark, you could imagine how red his cheeks were. From his breath, he wanted to say something, but he was thinking, not being able to form words because he felt nervous knowing that you might be expecting more from him.

"I like how you taste," you whispered, pulling him by his hair and holding him tight. Feeling his breath on your face, you held his chin, licking his open mouth to the way up, stopping with a kiss on the nose. You laughed, noticing him more agitated, you liked the effect you had on him, and you sure had found yourself thinking over and over how you should use this more to your advantage.

Before he could kiss you again, you proceeded in a low voice, "I need a favor, if you don't mind me."

He nodded, still not speaking, you held him close, as much as you could, you had in mind that he was hardly comfortable in that position. Placing your mouth close to his ear, you ran the tip of your tongue there, feeling him shiver and continued, "I just thought you might help me sleep," you wished he could see your restless, pleading eyes. "I'm thinking about how your fingers made me feel last night, I don't want to just have to think about that." Not knowing how you felt so confident with him, there are things that aren't so easy to explain, you rested his hand that was squeezing your waist and guided it to your bare thigh. You'd be dumb if you didn't love seeing him goofy and lost when you talked to him like that, it was like you could see his breath failing and his face about to explode.

He sighed a small yes, almost unavoidable above a whisper. Without ado, heeding your calls—something you learned he would do as you said—he moved his warm hand up under your dress, squeezing the flesh of your hips before slipping his hand inside your panties. You couldn't hold back a moan, feeling comfortable and soon his lips were on yours again. He was hot, biting your bottom lip every now and then as you sighed, such a mesmerizing rhythm. His kisses were wet and filled the car in hesitant noises that made you soaked. Alex wished he could see you more than you wish you could see him yourself. His fingers were light on your clit, following a linear pattern that felt right as you spread more and more for him.

"Fuck, I can hear how wet I am." you breathed loudly, with difficulty.

Alex kissed you once more, trying to stifle your whimpers, he didn't want anyone to see, just as he didn't want anyone to disturb anything.

As soon as the tingling in your lower belly became present, you held Alex's wrist tightly, kind of not knowing what to do, your eyes closed and more moans came, Alex then pressed his thumb harder to your clit and let the fingers slide easily inside you. Your legs shook while you still held him, Alex was agile, skilled in a way that you had never imagined when you met him, he hadn't accelerated like most people did, he just followed your body's commands and kept it slow, building you up to get there deliciously, yet calmly, so you could enjoy every minute of it.

"You're so fookin' gourgeous." He let out, seeing your mouth parted, eyes closed and sweaty hair plastered to your forehead as you squirmed beautifully before him.

You opened your eyes, feeling exasperated, noticing that you were holding his shirt collar tightly, kneading it, then you realized that it was actually morning, now you could see his red and sweaty face perfectly.

With you nothing but breathless, Alex contemplated your beauty in silence, rubbing between your legs on the sensitive skin until you recovered. You had the liveliest face, lips more swollen and warm legs around his wrist while you still held him, but now more light. He felt like a sinner for thinking about how he wanted to fuck you in that car, little did he know that you would love the idea.

Soon, he took his hand away, letting you settle better on the seat and between the blanket, you looked calmly at him and he just smiled lightly, he felt good about that, he felt good about making you feel good.

Even though he felt awkward doing so, he fed his own thoughts this time, brought his joined fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes, and sucked them in, feeling you on his tongue. Hearing you moan at that, he felt even more uncomfortable in his pants, and then he did the same with the next finger.

You unashamedly pulled him to your mouth, kissing him hard and he felt surprised before he reciprocated you too. You pulled away with light little pecks, then you held his wrists to you, sucking them in with his eyes on you, you were acting as if that comforted you and Alex found himself enjoying that. He pushed his fingers harder into you, not quite controlling himself and apologized, but even in the face of choking a bit, you laughed in amusement.

When you stopped, he wiped your chin with his sleeves and kissed you with a goofy smile, still as red as a tomato. Without saying anything, just in the warmth and embrace of the moment, he drove off again and soon you would be asleep and safe beside him.

…

Alex and you arrived at his house, and he parked the car, gently waking you up with kisses on your face and neck. "Hey, sleepyhead, we're here," you opened your eyes slowly, still feeling snuggled.

You felt nervous, knowing that you were about to meet some of his important people. "Are you sure they'll like me?" you asked, feeling anxious.

"Of course they will," Alex said reassuringly, taking your hand in his. "And even if they don't, it doesn't matter. You're here with me, and that's all that matters."

Alex held your hand tightly, reassuring you as he led you to the door. As soon as you stepped inside, he introduced you to his friends. They were a lively group, and they welcomed you warmly. One of his friends teased Alex about being too ugly for you, and you felt a surge of anger rise within you, but Alex just laughed it off, making you feel more at ease.

The afternoon passed quickly and pleasantly. The boys' girlfriends were nice, but they seemed a bit distant from you. They had known each other for a long time, and you were the new addition to the group. But they played cards with you all and were patient as Alex taught you how to play.

"You're doing great," he whispered in your ear. "I knew you'd pick it up quickly." He patted your thigh as if to say good girl and your heart was about to explode.

After a while, you overheard one of the girls say to Alex, "I don't think anyone in the world would have the patience to learn something from you, Alex. You’re made for each other."

You blushed at the compliment and felt a surge of warmth in your chest. Alex smiled at you and squeezed your hand. "See, I told you they'd love you," he said.

You spent the rest of the evening talking and playing games, and you felt happy to be a part of Alex’s world. You leaned your head on Alex's shoulder and closed your eyes, feeling content and loved. You couldn't be happier.

…

You were lying on the bed, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the door creak open. You sat up, setting your phone down on the nightstand, as Alex walked in.

You were feeling exhausted, so you ended up leaving the room early. You had commented on this before leaving, telling Alex you were feeling a bit off, kissing him on the cheek with your hands on his shoulder. He nodded that he would go upstairs too, even though you said he didn't need to, you gave good night everyone and went to the room that would be yours and Alex's.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him. "Everything okay?" He looked just as tired, although you had other ideas.

You smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Had a long day, y'know." He laughed.

Alex nodded in understanding, making his way over to the bed. He sat down beside you, watching as you shifted onto your side, facing him.

"I brought you some water," he said, holding up a glass.

"Thanks," you said, taking the glass and taking a sip. The silence was comfortable, but there was already a tension as if he could already read you well.

Alex leaned in, kissing you softly. "You look so beautiful in my shirt," he murmured against your lips. He tasted like the previous soda and mint, like good boys.

You giggled, feeling yourself confident at his words, no in a mean way. "Well, it's comfy." You adjusted the white shirt, almost see-through, on your body, making a point of unbuttoning one of the buttons. Alex's attention, of course, was all yours.

Alex smiled, running a hand through your hair. "You're always beautiful, no matter what you wear."

You leaned in, kissing him again, more passionately this time. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

As you broke apart, Alex rested his forehead against yours. "What are you hiding in your mind, puppet?" he said softly.

"You, I want to thank you for earlier, for making me feel good no matter what." you replied, running your fingers through his soft curls, putting his bangs in place.

Alex nodded before your captivating eyes, kissing you again, the passion between you growing. "Just want you to know that you don't have to, like ever." He assured you and you had no doubts about it.

"It's just a treat, don't get so excited kid." You joked, getting out of bed, kneeling on the edge as Alex followed you, already clearly tense, with his gaze.

"I'll try to," he gulped, making you laugh, he had already failed in that regard.

Following them with your eyes, you watched him obey your orders for him to take off his clothes, which he did, making your mouth water at how easy it was to get him excited. He wasn't solid, but he was swollen and vibrant red, you wished you'd slept with him more times than just one.

As expected, he had a flushed face and every now and then his eyes were distant, you couldn't say why, not least because he didn't seem to be insecure in terms of appearance. You wanted to make him feel comfortable, you didn't know if you did that well yet but it also seemed too soon to ask.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" You asked in a soft voice, looking away from his body and towards his eyes. He seemed to enjoy the sight of you on your knees for him, his lit face cheered you up.

"Of course, babe," he sounded husky in anticipation, encouraging you to run your thumb over his length, his lower belly contracted with the touch, and soon you had lubricated his tip with saliva so you could work your fingers there.

He growled hoarsely and before it could get any louder you signaled him to be quiet, it wasn't your plan to make his friends overhear but you didn't mind all that much either.

You didn't want to drag it out, not right then, you just wanted to make him feel genuinely good, he deserved it. You pressed your hand around him, squeezing lightly before moving your hand up and down and making him give you some cute spasms. To avoid discomfort, you kept your eyes on him, who had his mouth slightly open in a bliss of not believing what was happening, and moistened your mouth with saliva, spreading wet kisses over your boy so that he was properly lubricated, it didn't take long and he was fully hard for you.

Seconds had passed and you felt his hips going towards your hand, too bad you had barely started, and it wouldn't be that easy. You stopped your movements, laughing at the sound of disapproval he made, he had his hand over his mouth to prevent noise, it was adorable, even his ears had color. Licking your lips, you allowed yourself to run your tongue over the tip, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the taste of him on you. Worse than him, without being able to think further, you slipped him into your mouth, reaching as far as you could and pressing what you didn't have access to. If no one had heard Alex this time it was because they were deaf. Your legs spread on the floor and you felt your knees hurt, you felt sexy like that, and Alex agreed just as much.

His eyes were closed, you dipped him in saliva and it felt so good. Alex took a deep breath, trying to control himself with every descent your head made, it was as if he was almost unconscious. He dropped his back onto the bed, not having the strength to keep looking at you, which he wanted to do, his hands went to your hair and he pulled you close, lucky for him you let him guide you and do that easy to get for him, it was a short time together but he was used to you being the teasing type. You moaned around him, making the vibrations too good to ignore, and it wasn't until he realized you were touching yourself through it, the thought alone was capable of making him shiver.

Not taking the idea of ​​you providing him the pleasure he wasn't giving you, he pulled your head back, making a loud popping noise as you had your lips disconnected from hin, you were confused, saliva running down your chin and eyes full of tears, you had a lazy smile and you looked beautiful, but he didn't say that, he imagined that you were already tired of hearing him say that every minute.

"Was it that bad?" by the tone of your joke he knew you had a deep hurt.

He looked at you for a few more moments, as in need of it as you were, he was aching. Formulating the words in his mind, he laid you on his lap, picking up a shirt on his side to dry your face. Your eyes were calm on him, watchful and he felt bad that he couldn't tell if that had affected you or not. Still, he took care so that you could feel more comfortable, kissing away the tears and drying your chin and cheeks before a make-out session.

Then, as you squeezed his shoulders and fit perfectly into his lap, making him as hard as possible, he sighed, "You're God, but I want to finish inside you, fill you up like the night before." His voice was calm, you wanted to smack him for making it sound like something romantic to say. "Can we do that?" He was a lot redder than before.

You nodded, "Yeah, sure." This time, it was your throat that was dry.

He pulled down your panties, you kept the shirt on, and leaned into him better, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alex was sweaty, with messy curls, you thought he was stunning, even though he was clumsy, it was his plus charm. You put your forehead on his and with the help of his hand, you relaxed little by little in his lap, feeling him fill you with ease, everything was slow and comfortable, until he was immersed in you, Alex caressed your waist and kissed you now and then, you stopped and let your breathing return to normal a little, it was nice to have him inside you.

"You can move if you want." He asked more with the intention of distracting you after having opened more buttons on your shirt and noticed you flinch reflexively.

He moves your hands gently and kisses the middle between your breasts, working his way down to your stomach and then reaching to your waist. You laughed and that made him feel relieved, he wanted to make you understand that you could feel confident next to him, without worrying about things like that, even if it wasn't so easy.

"I'm getting used to you, Al. You're quite big, y'know." It wasn't a lie but verbalizing it made your cheeks feel hot and Alex turned the color of a bell pepper once again. "I'm sorry."

"No complaints, I feel comfortable having you like this, it's another level of closeness." You agreed with him.

It lasted a good few minutes, then you had Alex moving your hips up and down as you were stuck with nails at his shoulders as riding him good. The movements were rhythmic, and you didn't skimp on calm this time, the bed creaked and the body bumping was just as hot. Alex held onto your rib cage, admiring how your breasts bounced along with you in his lap in the opened shirt, he was mesmerized. Until then, you thought you were doing a good job of keeping the noise down.

You made him lie on his back, leaning on his chest, the view was great, he was a mess, biting his lip hard to keep from making noise. You continued working on it, already feeling your legs weak and body trembling, the feeling was so good that your head was empty just thinking about it, drool was present in the corner of your mouth, it was surreal that you could feel this good with someone. Alex was no different, his muscles twitching in anticipation, you found him noisier, just as you thought you would be like, then you let yourself down on top of him, covering his mouth with your hand and burying your face in his shoulder, biting down on the flesh to avoid any damage.

You clamped your hand over his mouth, actually seeing that that was accurate. You kept riding him until you felt your body nothing but weak and actually fell on Alex's chest, then you felt him filling you up completely, making you hot, you couldn't help but moan louder into his shoulder as he squeezed you closer for comfort. Your muscles were sore, and Alex could barely move, you laughed in satisfaction, looking at Alex who held your wrist while your hand covered his mouth, his eyes were all puppy and his face all babydoll like. Taking it away, the mark of your hand on his face was clear and you liked that. "Good boy," you joked, just before taking in the silence while enjoying Alex still being inside you, keeping his cum deep inside you.

"I need a shower," you pleaded, after a while.

Alex was patting your back, happy to have you lazily humming at his touch. He didn't feel any different, he needed water and soap driving through his body.

You got up slyly, still connected to his hip and sat on him while Alex was still lying down. He ran his finger down your stomach, a shy smile on his face, and then you realized he was feeling him inside you. You looked down, confirming to yourself that you could see his cock deep into you, you bit your lip enjoying it.

Nobody said anything else, he just sat up and slowly put you next to him, on his chest as you felt him slide down your thigh, you liked the feeling. You clung to him, he had his eyes on you. His faces were close and his fingers played with your face and hair affectionately, sometimes he kissed your hand or nose. His eyes sparkled before yours, you felt lucky.

When he mentioned the shower once again, you agreed, you would take one together, you just needed a few more minutes for that. But before, he took the shirt and cleaned you up, affectionately and without making it something weird, he really wanted to see you well. He threw the fabric in a corner and you actually felt better without being sticky, he then went to the bathroom and said he would fix the shower, something usual from that house he was already familiar with, while waiting you pulled a napkin from the nightstand (comical how men thought to leave a napkin inside the nightstand) and described your feelings in moderate words (you wish you could write like Alex, but yet you tried your best), leaving them under his backpack and hoping that one day he would get to read it because you weren't brave enough give it to him in or speak how you felt.

Oh, and the boys didn't shut up about that day ever before.

…

Alex and you stepped into the shower together, the warm water cascading down our bodies. He looked at me with a soft smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, taking the bottle of soap and lathering it in his hands.

you blushed and looked down, you were completely exposed and that was weird, you felt a little self-conscious. But Alex wasn't having any of it. He lifted your chin and looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with love and admiration.

"Don't hide from me," he said gently. "I love every inch of you."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling the nerves slowly melt away as he began to soap your back. It felt so intimate, having him wash your body like this, and you knew that you could trust him completely.

As he moved to your hair, you closed your eyes and let out a contented sigh. His fingers were gentle as he massaged the shampoo into your scalp, and you felt like you were floating on a cloud.

When it was my turn to wash his hair, you took your time, loving the way the suds felt against your fingers. Alex leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. You were on tiptoe and decided to say anything.

As the water continued to pour over both of you, you just stood there, holding each other as you were resting your head on his chest, hugging his middle tight, enjoying the closeness. Alex was being his usual goofy self, making silly faces and tickling you under the water.

"Stop lookin’ at me like that," you said, trying to sound stern but failing to keep the smile off my face.

"Like what?" he replied, grinning.

"Like I'm the most precious thing in the world."

"Oh, but you are," he said, his eyes softening. "You're everything to me."

…

You and Alex had been dating for a few months, and you were thrilled when he invited you to one of his gigs. You had heard him play before, but only in the privacy of his apartment, where he would strum his guitar and sing his heart out to you.

But this was different. This was a real concert, with a small but enthusiastic crowd gathered around a makeshift stage in the back of a dimly lit bar. You stood with Alex's friends and their girlfriends, swaying to the music and singing along to every word.

As you watched Alex perform, you were struck by how alive he looked, how in his element he was. His bangs were curled across his forehead, and his white t-shirt was clinging to him, damp with sweat. But he didn't seem to notice or care; he was lost in the music, lost in the moment.

You felt a sense of connection with his friends' girlfriends, like you were all part of something special, something that time had sorted out. You were grateful for their company, for the way they made you feel like you belonged there with them.

When the gig ended, you couldn't help but run up to Alex, jumping into his arms despite his protests about his sweating state. He hugged you tight, and you praised him for his performance, telling him how much you loved seeing him live and how much you admired his songwriting. Being extra and mentioning that just like Leonard Cohen. It wasn't a lie, you would never get tired of comparing the good taste of the two.

He blushed, taking a piece of napkin out of his pocket and handing it to you. It was damp with sweat, but you didn't care. You started to read it in front of him, tears springing to your eyes as you realized it was his response to the love letter you had left under his pillow that night.

You looked up at him, surprised and touched, and he just grinned and shrugged. "I couldn't let you be the only one who poured their heart out in writing," he said, close to your ear before kissing the spot, like it was just for you and yours. "I wrote you a love song, my girl." He pulled you by the waist, wrapping you to him as he kissed away your tears, then his eyes filled too.

As he strummed his guitar and sang the words he had written just for you, you knew in that moment that actions really did speak louder than words. Your Alex was living proof of that. And you felt grateful and lucky to have Alex in your life, to have his music and his love.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Maybe a drabble or hcs about reader having to avoid Ms. Rainfort like the plague bc if they are around her for too long the ruin pokemon will prob do to her what they did to the king of paldea (If you dont want to write all of them could you pick ting-lu?)

(I have a hc that the ruin pokemon can feel peoples evil intentions and ms Rainfort is very insistent in taking the ruin pokemon and just gives you nasty plot as well so that doesn't help her case at all))

"Nasty Plot? Why are you giving me this TM in particular, Professor?" Staring down at the disc in your hands, you looked at your history professor with a puzzled gaze, wondering why she would have something like this on-hand.

It certainly seemed strange, given the circumstances of your most recently-captured Pokémon...who happened to be one of the harbingers of disaster to the Paldean Kingdom.

"Oh! It can be used to boost Ting-Lu's special attacks. Of course, it can always be stronger...it has been sealed away for many years, after all." Despite Raifort's gentle smile, the glint in her eyes was nothing short of sinister. "But I can understand if you're having difficulties in taming this Ruinous Treasure's might. It's still quite the unpredictable brute, so if at anytime you wish to turn it over to me, I can-"

"Tiiiing..."

Blinking in surprise, you glanced at Ting-Lu, who heavily opposed her proposition as it backed away, sticking close to your side (or at least as much as it could without its bowl hitting you). Its red eyes stared at her with such caution, as though boring into her very soul.

You frowned a bit, resting your hand on its side, before gazing back at Raifort.

Something about this...didn't feel right.

"I think Ting-Lu trusts me more, professor. But thank you for the offer anyways."

"It's not problem." Although her smile didn't waver for a moment, she now seemed quite unnerved at the dark/ground type's reaction. "I hope you don't mind gathering some data on its habits and such...for homework, let's say. I'd like to share the knowledge we've gained on the quartet so far with my future students so I'm not just telling them how these Pokémon are shrouded in total mystery."

"That's fair." You nodded respectfully. "And...I'll work on finding the locations of the others and their shrines."

"Wonderful! Now I'll have to prepare for my next class. See you around, [y/n]!"

"Take care, professor."

As soon as Raifort headed back into the school, Ting-Lu relaxed its haunches, and you found yourself relaxing your own shoulders, too. Somehow you were apparently just as tense as it.

You looked at it with a sympathetic smile, rubbing its snout. "I know she's a history professor, but...this obsession with you guys is strange. Clearly you know something about her that I don't. I'll get to the bottom of it."

"Lu." It nodded in agreement, before you returned it to its pokeball as to not attract unwanted attention from any nearby students. You decided to head back to the dorms.

Though not without checking out a few books first..

.........

It was no surprise that you didn't find a lot of recorded information on the Legendary Quartet.

The most you could find were old tales and scriptures of their associated items....as well as the effects they had on humans who used them or sought them out. Obviously they left the greatest impact on the Paldean Kingdom beyond causing it to collapse practically overnight.

However, there was one story in particular which stood out to you.....and you realized that this fictious tale may be true after all, especially given Ting-Lu's wariness around Raifort.

The passage claimed that having just one of the items within the vicinity of an authority figure would drive them to obsession with it, willing to do just about anything to have it for themselves.

They'd barter, beg, bribe, steal...or even kill for it.

And this would only grow further if another item was present as well, and it would continue with the third and the fourth..

Eventually this accumulates into this person having unfathomable greed and hoarding all of their powers for themselves, refusing to share them with anyone else.

That's exactly what the king had done, and in his greed he destroyed lives and inevitably caused the items to become Pokémon themselves--living sentient beings fueled by the rage of dozens of souls.

Because they were able to sense his evil and corruption, they flattened his empire for good....at the cost of their freedom.

But now that you've released Ting-Lu from captivity, you wondered if Raifort's reaction to it was going to lead to something similar.

Or, as they say, if history was going to repeat itself.

She did offer to take it away from you despite not knowing the bond you've formed with it during your time exploring and teaching it new moves. And she seemed very insistent that you collected data on the remaining Ruinous Treasures and not share it with anyone else, acting as though you're her research assistant rather than a student like every other kid in this academy.

But you trusted Ting-Lu's judgement, even though in your heart you didn't want to believe she was secretly some corrupt and evil person. You didn't wanna stir up any rumors or conspiracies that could get her fired or you expelled.

So for now, you decided that the best thing to do was gather data and only send it to her via rotomphone and give her updates that way.

You won't let her see any of the Ruinous Pokémon face-to-face anymore...and unless you're attending her class, you'll try to avoid bumping into her as often as you can, fearing how she'll react if you catch any of the others.

In order to keep her, yourself, and possibly all of Paldea safe...this was the best course of action.

[thedomesticanthropologist]

A comment you said on your last post really hit me as a good point of development/angst, please take or leave as you'd like and apologies if I've mischaracterized your Tav at all, but still hope this helps turn some wheels. "As a Cleric of Ilmater Mira is no stranger to Suffering for the sake of Faith." Has Mira considered that Astarion suffered for nothing?

Ultimately Mira's suffering gets her a cool connection with a god and awesome powers. Would that not make Astarion bitter in that respect? To me it seems like Mira is constantly pushing back against Astarion with a lot of "why is he like this" and "you have to be better because it's the right thing to do." At what point does Astarion share his story with her about that boy he tried to spare from Cazador's wrath? I feel like with this dynamic, that would be something he'd bring up as proof that she just got lucky that her god gave a shit about her in particular. Like he did the right thing, was horrendously punished for it and as far as he's concerned, Ilmater was sitting around twiddling his godly thumbs.

I feel like that would be a good point to develop some better mutual understanding between the pair of them that would make Mira maybe not forgive Astarion in the Act 2 confession, but at least understand where he's coming from, rather than just pushing her worldview.

So! You gotta keep in mind that the story you're referring to isn't told to the player character until Act 3, well after his confession.

By the time he confesses, Astarion has (depending on how many cut scenes you've managed to snag/long rests etc) Only told you that he lured victims back to Cazador, and that Cazador is a monster.

He's told you about his scars, and how he pities the other 6 of his "siblings". Plus a few small anecdotes, but *none of them* about anything he's ever done for anyone else.

He has however:

- Been extremely racist towards the Gur based on being attacked by them, likely having been hired by Cazador based on how the story was told so Mira explained that you can't hold an entire race of people accountable for the actions of the few. Astarion said he absolutely can, and fuck you

- Assaults you in your sleep then begs for blood and if you do trust him enough to let him bite "I'll be as gentle as a babe! I only need a little" but u don't pass the checks he will murder you

- Tried to abandon the Tieflings to their fate and told Mira they should move on not because of the tadpole problem, but because killing goblins "would take hours" and he's too lazy to bother

- Repeatedly and loudly stated that he desires power over all else, but has NOT yet told her its because he's scared/desires to feel safe

- Asked to be left out of the Nere quest because he didn't want to ruin his nails and would prefer to move on. Mira said Nere isn't the point, the gnomes are and he was EXTREMELY racist towards deep gnomes in general. He has NOT yet explained to the PC / Mira why he is against digging through rock (the crypt for a year thing) by the time he does this

- Tells you if you get in the way of what he wants he will go through you if necessary (denying him the tadpoles) and to stay out of his way

- Snaps at you about how to deal with Yurgir if you try to figure out what's going on instead of immediately killing him, even if you plan on killing him, and also rails against PC loudly in many other instances as well

And much much more, I won't go on. The point is that by the time he confesses, you have no back story. You have nothing to go on. There is nothing to trust. And the ONE thing Mira and Astarion had together where she thought they were making headway, their physical relationship, has now just been revealed to be a huge scam from the start.

Not ONLY that, but he doesn't regret doing it. He is proud of his simple plan and upset that it fell apart (at least that's how he presents it) and does NOT apologize for trying to use her. He instead says because he fell in love and she is so incredible he feels he can trust her enough to confess his deception without fear of being kicked out of the party.

You must remember that while Astarion has reasons, he hasn't revealed them. And if you judge a man based on his words and actions, at the point of the confession scene, he's not got a lot going for him besides puppy dog eyes and a backstory of admittedly horrific slavery that has only been lightly touched on because he wants you to know Cazador is Bad, but he's not about to spill his guts on what really all happend to him yet.

TLDR: Faith is just about all Mira has to give at this point, and Astarion has made her suffer by gaining her trust through manipulation and then only messing up because HE caught feelings.

In other versions of the game, if you don't finish his quest, he breaks up with PC very cruelly.

If you make it to Act 3 with Caz and you don't make the right dialogue choices or pass the persuasion and instead just say you won't let him ascend, he says he hopes you die screaming.

This man is my fave, don't get me wrong. But without the knowledge of his entire character, when you go in blind or you play a character that you don't give High Insight to, you have to see that he is a very difficult person to navigate. Especially a Lawful Good Cleric of Ilmater who's life purpose is to help and alleviate suffering.

She feels called to him because of his suffering and she *does* have faith she can help, but that faith is majorly BLIND right now and it hurts to know the man who proved time and time again that he isn't trustworthy just confessed his love by explaining that he has been extra untrustworthy

[thelonelyempath]

M!Crush x F!Reader: Homework (CW)

THEME: Angsty Fluff

WARNING(s): Anxiety, Panic Attack

"Why is this so hard?!" you asked, infuriated that you weren't understanding.

"You'll get it." C/N reassured you. "Math isn't easy for everyone. I'll explain it a hundred different ways if I have to."

Your whole life, you simply were not good at math. Luckily, you had a boyfriend who excelled at it. He offered to help you with your homework, but no matter how many ways he explained how to do a problem, you just didn't understand.

"But I feel like I'm not gonna get it no matter how many times you explain it." you said. "It makes me feel so dumb."

"You're not dumb, sweetheart. Don't be so hard on yourself. Like I said, this isn't easy for everyone."

Thank god he was being so patient with you. You really were being hard on yourself. But still, you didn't understand and it was frustrating you.

"Hey, you okay?" he put his hand on your shoulder.

You didn't realize how frustrated you were. It felt like the room was getting smaller. Your chest felt like it was getting tighter. You could hardly breathe. A bead of sweat dripped off your forehead as your boyfriend pulled you into him.

"Shhh, it's okay, darling." he cooed. "You're okay. I've got you. You're safe."

He knew anxiety was something you struggled with, and he had seen you have a few panic attacks. Thankfully, he knew how to help. He was the most patient, most loving boyfriend ever. You were his entire world. He absolutely hated seeing you upset or hurt.

"Look at me, Y/N." he instructed. "Look at me."

With hitched breath, you looked into his eyes. His big, beautiful eyes that reminded you why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just focus on me. You'll be okay. Take a deep breath for me, love."

You took a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth. C/N held your hand tightly as you did so.

"You're doing great. Can you do another one?"

You took another deep breath, feeling yourself becoming more grounded. C/N encouraging you was helpful.

"And one more."

Finally, you came back. C/N brushed a few rogue strands of hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. His thumb wiped away a tear that had rolled down your cheek.

"I'm sorry." you muttered.

"No, don't apologize." he replied. "It happens. Here, let's put the homework away and come back to it later. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want to go for a walk or a drive or something to get your mind off of things?"

You looked up at him and sheepishly nodded. After sweetly kissing the back of your hand, he put everything back in your backpack. Having grabbed his keys, he stood up and you followed, heading towards the door.

"Hey," he wrapped an arm around your waist. "I love you."

"I love you too."

After sharing a kiss, the two of you made your way to his car. You had no particular destination in mind, but it was enough to temporarily distract you from math homework.

[xkseii]

HEYYYY SO I've got a request not sure if it's open or not just ignore it if not! Don't really wanna bother you but I thought you could write this since I love your writing really! So may I request a blind male reader x genshin boys. Just a simple request really, a reminder FEEL FREE TO IGNORE!! or maybe you could also add spicy things they would do. IT IS UP TO YOU!! HAPPY late late NEW YEAR TO YOU, MY DEAR!!

⎮Blinding Love⎮

⏤ Characters: Aether⎮Diluc⎮Gorou⎮Kaeya

⏤ Including: mention of injuries, minor possessive behaviour, soft nsfw, mention of heat

⏤ 3.200 words

♣︎ Aether

✷ You were born with congenital blindness. Your vision has always been poor and growing up with this particular trait, you learned how to live without being affected by it.

✷ Living in Mondstadt was rather easy to go around, the alleys were clean and taken care of properly most of the time, and despite the few sets of stairs leading to the Church that was your only problem, the rest was fine. You didn't need anyone's help as you were doing just fine on your own, though you would let Amber or Barbara guide you sometimes, knowing it was reassuring them.

✷ Being born in the city of freedom and living there since forever, people knew about your disability and would be kind enough to not stand in your way, some of them sometimes telling you when a land degradation has been noticed or anything that could be problematic.

✷ In other words, you were living just fine there. With your friends, and family by your side, you weren't less happy than anyone else because of your blindness.

✷ When Aether showed up to Mondstadt for the first time, you didn't get the opportunity to meet, and it didn't really matter. You only grew curious about him when you heard about his won battle against Dvalin. But it was rather awkward to ask about him randomly, so you didn't try to.

✷ Meanwhile, you caught Aether's interest as he often saw you with Amber, Kaeya or Barbara, but never coming towards him or greeting him. Though, you were just unaware that the presence in your back was him, and not just a passer-by.

✷ He discovered that you were blind by accident, as Paimon flew into your back while she wasn't paying attention, and Kaeya scolded her for it. Aether felt extremely embarrassed by his and Paimon's mistake, and also for thinking that you were rude for ignoring them.

✷ To make up for his misconception, which you weren't even aware of, he started to accompany you everywhere. It became quickly annoying, as he was treating you like a baby, even though you could take care of yourself perfectly fine. At some point, it really started to get on your nerves and politely told him what you were thinking.

✷ He made efforts to understand you more, and slowly, you became much closer. Before he left again to find his sister, he promised to come back as regularly as he could, and he did. Only holding your hand when the ground was damaged or telling you if someone was coming your way rapidly, he was always paying attention for the both of you.

✷ After a few months, he finally asked you out. Now being officially boyfriends, he suggested taking you with him on his journey, uncaring if it could slow him down in the search for his sister, he just wanted to spend more time with you. Undeniably, it has been the best days of his life, sharing everything and helping you discover Teyvat.

✷ On a more spicy note, despite being blind, you were the one with the more temper and confidence, and so, would take most of the decisions or verbally defend Aether. Your hearing was extremely sensitive, which was extremely useful to avoid a surprise attack, which saved you many times.

✷ In bed, it was the same case, with your strong confidence, you would either be a top or a power bottom. Knowing Aether's body by heart, you didn't need your eyes at all to drive him insane, and he was always quick to submit to you. He never cared about giving all the control to you, as he knew he would be rewarded with a mind-blowing orgasm.

✷ By the end of the night, Aether would often end up chained to the bed, enduring the overwhelming pleasure until you were satisfied. The way your hands touch him, and your lips collided with his, was enough to show him how much you loved or cared for him.

✷ No one could give him as much love and pleasure as you were, and that's why he will always protect you from everything. Keeping you by his side was his priority, even if it meant threatening someone through his actions instead of his words, so you couldn't catch on.

♣︎ Diluc

✷ You were born with a rare condition, which was to be completely blind. You couldn't see or detect light at all, the world has always been pure darkness for you.

✷ After living in Liyue all your life, you chose to sojourn in Mondstadt for an unknown amount of time. Your condition remained a secret for most, if not all the citizens of Mondstadt. With your brother by your side all the time, he was the only one who knew about it, and would guide you everywhere.

✷ Even though you hated needing him most of the time, you couldn't do anything without his assistance, so you swallowed your pride and accept the harsh reality. The only place where you didn't need help was your house, as you knew every corner of it, and as long as no one touch anything, you could live just fine.

✷ You met Diluc while walking in the street, with your brother by your side. As you were strolling around, listening to him describing verbally the city as well as he could, a man bumped into you, almost making you fall.

✷ Your brother didn't have the time to react when the man was grabbed strongly by the shoulder and forced to apologize, the Master of the Dawn Winery not allowing such rudeness in front of him.

✷ He was a bit confused about why you weren't looking at him or in his direction, until it clicked, understanding why you had always your brother holding you or whispering things in your ear. As newcomers were rapidly known around the city, gossips were inevitable, and he was rather surprised that you managed to keep this condition hidden from everyone.

✷ As the good man that he was, he never spoke about it to anyone. And to who would he say it anyway?-

✷ Curious, he would often check on you during his free time, or send gifts from the Winery, as you avoid crowded places like the Tavern. Diluc isn't good with feelings or expressing himself, so it took him a long time before directly interacting with you.

✷ Slowly but surely, he took your brother's place as your guide whenever he was free, walking around the city with you and even bringing you to the Winery. The time you spent together was extremely precious, and he even mentioned you to Kaeya a few times when he was drunk, sharing something with him for the first time in years.

✷ Diluc loved to write letters, but since you couldn't read them, he gave up. Until, he learned about braille, and finally, he gathers the courage to write you a letter expressing his deeper feelings, knowing almost nobody expects you could read it.

✷ With the help of your brother, who didn't question the content of the letter, wrote a reply. Which was positive, as the same afternoon, Diluc was knocking at your door with a bouquet of flowers. You shared the softest kiss of your life, both your first one, as it was your first and last romantic relationship.

✷ Since then, you moved to the Winery with him, the maids taking care of most things for you. Absolutely adore you for bringing a smile to Diluc's face, and they became your closest confidants. You even convinced Diluc to introduce you to Kaeya, wanting to know more about his past, and consciously making them grow closer again, during the diner you invited Kaeya to every Sunday.

✷ With a good amount of money, Diluc paid to make the city more accessible for everyone, wanting you to be able to live in the easiest and most comfortable way.

✷ Diluc was extremely soft and conscientious with you, always making sure that you were alright with being touched or kissed. Your first time together was delicate and full of love, slow as you were both inexperienced, and your only goal was to show how much you cared about the other.

✷ As time went on, it didn't change much. Diluc was always focused on pleasing you, hearing your moans and praises, as it was enough for him to cum. He was devoted to you, set on serving you until his last breath. He was yours, and all your wishes will always be granted, whatever they were.

✷ Making love wasn't one of your priorities, as most touches were gentle and without any second thoughts. Still, when it does happen that one of you is particularly needy, the other is always here to dedicate himself.

✷ Diluc was the one who often ended up on his knee for you, mouth wide open as he gave you mind-numbing pleasure until all your worries washed away and only your love for him was remaining.

✷ You are the gentlest and most in love couple, already engaged, and that would do anything for the other.

♣︎ Gorou

✷ You became partially blind during the war, and you started suffering from blurry vision, eye pain and high sensitivity to light. Enabling you to continue fighting for the resistance.

✷ Gorou has always been a close friend of yours, even before the start of the war. When he became general of the Watatsumi Army, you followed him without thinking, wanting to support and protect your friend.

✷ During one of the numerous battles that took place, you went there under Gorou's command, jumping into the fight. It lasted for some long days, enduring a few minor injuries, but nothing important enough to make you leave the battlefield. Until an enemy took you by surprise and inflicted you with a wound that will never heal.

✷ You were transported out of the battlefield as soon as possible, but it was a lost cause. The damages done to your head and eyes were irreparable, and you had to accept that your life would never be the same again.

✷ Maybe it was shame or guilt, but you weren't able to face Gorou until the end of the war.

✷ You did your best to avoid him, and get busy in one way or another, even if you weren't physically able to go out yet. The light was causing you a violent headache, and you couldn't stay with your eyes open for too long. That's why you wore bandages around your head for some long days until it wasn't as painful.

✷ Successfully never crossing paths with Gorou, you felt yourself get better. Unfortunately, your luck couldn't do miracles for so long, as you get woken up by someone knocking at your door, and you open it without thinking. To your surprise, it wasn't one of the doctors that was standing there, but Gorou as you heard him stop breathing for a few seconds, whispering your name in shock.

✷ He went to find you, so he could announce the news himself, that the war was over. And instead, he found his closest friend with a bandaged head and grey eyes, void of emotions or profoundness.

✷ Just as shocked as him, you slammed the door shut, not knowing how to deal with this guilt except hiding away. Despite Gorou knocking at the door, and calling your name, you never opened the door, sitting on the ground in silence.

✷ He learned the truth from one of the men that were in your battalion, explaining what happened exactly and the extent of your injuries. Due to the sudden horrible information, Gorou had trouble processing the truth, blaming himself for your pain.

✷ After a long conversation with Kokomi, he concluded that he couldn't let your friendship end this way, and rushed to talk to you, even if he had to beg for hours until you open the door. But you gave up after a few minutes and witnessed a teary Gorou, that was apologizing over and over. This afternoon was filled with tears and pain, finally opening up to one another.

✷ Since then, Gorou was at your side day and night, doing everything that you couldn't do, checking on your injuries and making sure everything was fine. He strongly refused to leave your side, even when you went back home, as he begged until you accepted to let him sleep in your guest room.

✷ Maybe it was the constant closeness, or Gorou's need to protect you. But he ended up sleeping in your bed at one point, and then, using your clothes, hugging you suddenly, caressing your face the same way a lover would. And finally, on a drunken night, he kissed you, deeply and lovingly.

✷ You never talked about this night, you were close enough to understand the meaning of it. Accepting easily the change of relationship and status, now introducing the other as a boyfriend instead of a friend. It happened so easily, that you never questioned it. Gorou soon moved in with you, and stayed by your side, despite your ability to fully take care of yourself.

✷ After months of living together and sleeping on the same bed, everything happened naturally. One second, you were both kissing, your hands cradling his face and his griping your neck, and then, you were both naked, with Gorou moaning under you. Nails digging into your back and creating dark marks, not letting you go until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

✷ Rapidly, you noticed how Gorou was constantly needy, holding onto you and begging for a bit of attention. This behaviour was even worse when he was in heat, tempting you in the lewdest way to get you to destroy his body. So many nights were spent with Gorou's legs on your shoulders as you pound into him, filling him up to the brim.

✷ Gorou and you became inseparable, one was never seen without the other. Everyone was aware of how possessive and protective he was of you, no one daring to get too close or for too long. If his behaviour wasn't enough to tell that you were off limits, the numerous marks left on you were an even clearer message.

✷ Now, he was determined to keep you safe, protect you and love you. Becoming blind wasn't even a big deal anymore, as he was always by your side to do everything you weren't able to. Losing your eyes, you gained a devoted lover.

♣︎ Kaeya

✷ You became partially blind partly because of Khaenri'ah. Just like the few descendants and survivors of the ultimate destruction, you earned something from it, as it affected either your face or eyes. For you, it was your eyes only, which always reminded you of where you were from.

✷ Unlike a certain Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, this star in both your eyes caused your blindness. Forced to hide those rare and considered dangerous traits, you would wear a blindfold, telling curious people that you got badly injured in a fight and refusing to show the damages. And usually, it would make everyone uncomfortable enough to drop the topic.

✷ Travelling from city to city, you discovered the world without a set goal, only wishing to feel free and happy. You stayed for a little while at Snezhnaya, passed by Natlan and Fontaine rather quickly, and fell in love with Sumeru. Until you had to leave, travelling through Inazuma and Liyue, to finally reach Mondstadt.

✷ There, you met with someone who seemed weirdly familiar, something about him drawing you closer.

✷ Sitting at the bar alone, you stood out because of your different kinds of clothes and blindfold, catching the eyes of some curious adventurers or even some knights' attention that were taking a break. You could easily feel the numerous eyes staring at you, not even trying to hide it.

✷ Drinking one glass after another, the bartender kept a close eye on you, softly tapping his fingertips beside the glass to tell you where he put it. The kind gesture brought a smile to your face, thanking him for being so observant, as he dismissed the appreciation, and put it on doing his job well.

✷ As you discussed with the bartender, you failed to notice the man sitting down next to you, only the sudden annoyed tone of your new acquaintance made you realize the unknown presence. Slowly turning your head towards them, acting as if you could see them, you offered to pay for their drink.

✷ The offer was met with a deep laugh, and the man's right hand, who introduced himself as Kaeya, was placed on your thigh. You could sense his inquiring eyes on you as he asked more about your journey, soft grip tightening when you mentioned your studies and the pride of humankind.

✷ You both drink until getting slowly sick of the taste, and in his kindness, Kaeya suggested helping you walk back home. Even though you were perfectly able to walk alone, using your geo vision to feel through the ground if someone was near or walking towards you. You kept quiet, and let him guide you, thanking him after sensing him walk away silently.

✷ For the following days, you would learn more about the city and its surroundings during the day, and drink with Kaeya every evening until the middle of the night. You were still wary of each other, but you found an unknown comfort while talking to him, sharing harmless information that wouldn't put you in a difficult position.

✷ One night, after Kaeya guided you back home, you went to take a shower immediately, hating the smell of alcohol sticking to you, overwhelming your senses. Perhaps it was the remannings of alcohol that numbed your brain, but you opened the door without thinking, blessing the familiar man with a full view of your bare torso and uncovered eyes.

✷ Everything happened too quickly, his hands were on your shoulders and then the door was slammed shut, his lips pressed against yours as he asked where your bedroom was. Your first night shared together was on impulse, just a sudden urge to possess the other.

✷ There was no explanation for it, no reason to act this way, as it just happened. Embracing the other, pouring out all your frustrations as moans and groans filled up the silence of the room. Growing more frantic, rough and lustful, you lost yourselves in the pleasure of enlaced bodies and minds.

✷ Sooner or later, the eyepatch was discarded, and your eyes ended up wide open, the rushed pace came to a stop. His hands cradled your face, confused, but understanding words were exchanged, and you proposed to talk about it when you'll both sober.

✷ The next day, hidden by the blanket, Kaeya was holding onto you tightly, memories rushing back to him. It was as if he found another piece of himself, something or someone that he lost a long time ago. With hushed words, you promised to keep it a secret, so this shared history could remain a safe haven.

✷ And until now, your paths never diverged from the other, staying close and not letting anything stop you. Accepting your future, as long as you remained together, Kaeya endured his fate.

✷ Your relationship was never defined, but everyone's opinion was the same, you were soulmates who finally found their promised one.

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

[littlewinter1917]

The Haunting

Part I - I See You In Everyone

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI 🔞 Don't reposed my work anywhere.

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: It’s been a few months ever since your boyfriend, Billy Hargrove, died in the battle of Starcourt Mall. You’re still struggling to come to terms with his death, when weird things start happening in your house - almost as if you’re being haunted. Against your better judgement, you get the growing feeling that it’s Billy, and that he’s trying to tell you something, but you cannot figure out what. And then the Vecna attacks start happening, and you and your friends are hurled back into an adventure that seems closely tied to the weird activities in your house, to Billy, and above all, the cursed town of Hawkins, Indiana.

Words: 20.6k (Yes, I know, a little excessive)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Chapter warnings: A lot of grief, angst and survivor’s guilt. Some hurt/comfort. Slightly spooky stuff. Some swearing. Talks about Billy’s death and the events of Starcourt Mall.

Please check out the more detailed series warnings here if you’re unsure about what this story might entail in future chapters.

A/N: I’m quite excited about finally being able to share the first chapter of this! I’m not sure if anyone wants to read a slightly spooky story in the middle of March, but I’m impatient incarnate, so, I simply cannot wait until October to publish this.

I really wanted to capture a certain eerie atmosphere in this story, and you can find some of the visual inspirations I’ve used for it here, as well as a playlist, which you can find on Spotify here.

I've also decided to start a taglist, and you can fill out this form here or let me know in a comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapter <3

“And now, another song that’s been requested: Survivor’s I can’t hold back! A great one, might I add; and even greater for this particular Friday night.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You quietly curse under your breath, as you try to turn off the radio quickly, because that’s the last song you need to hear right now.

Truly, the last song.

“Oh, come on! What is it with you this time?”

The annoyance in your voice is only amplified by the angry stare that you throw the car radio’s way, once you realize that the off button seems to have developed a mind of its own, as it stays unresponsive to your biddings. 

“No, no, no!” You whisper, panic rising up in your chest, as the opening notes of the song start to play, and the radio still doesn’t budge.

Pushing the button forcefully a few times more, just for good measure, and maybe as a way to air some of your current frustrations, you can’t help but curse that damn Camaro. 

“Fuck!”

Even though your steering wheel bears hardly any responsibility for your current misery, it finds itself on the receiving end of your angry outburst anyway, as you hit against it hard. 

This must be one of fate’s cruel jokes again, you think defeated, as the song continues to play on; and haven’t you had enough of those already? 

Truly.  

There’s no other way to stop the oncoming catastrophe either, because neither the switch to change channels, nor the one that regulates the volume, reliably work anymore. And with the on/off button now officially joining their ranks of the dead and unresponsive, there’s nothing left for you to do. 

No way for you to avoid the song that used to mean so much to you. 

To the both of you. 

To you and Billy. 

“And I feel the hand of fate ♪

reaching out to both of us.  

♪ I’ve been holding back the night.”  

Jimi Jamison sings, and your grip around the steering wheel tightens, as you try hard to keep it together. 

This used to be your song, but now it’s nothing more than a torture device that leaves a hole the size of the earth in your already desecrated heart. 

How it can still hurt so much, without there being anything left to destroy, is not something you have an answer to; only that you’ve run out of tears weeks ago, yet the ache in your heart never falters, never sleeps. 

You feel like this is going to haunt you forever, for a lifetime, at least. 

And that’s without having to listen to that stupid song!

You try to distract yourself by focusing on the road instead, but the darkness of the night and the cold silhouettes of the surrounding trees hardly offer a relief. 

Or a distraction. 

The headlights of your car seem to be the only guiding constant in this equation, as they illuminate fractures of the passing landscape before moving on to something further away in the distance, over and over again. 

It’s kind of unsettling, really, if you think about how much of your current surroundings you can’t see, can’t capture with the fleeting lights of your vehicle. How behind the first line of trees looms another, darker one, and then another, and another, and- 

“That’s a forest for you, sweetheart.” Billy would’ve probably teased with a smile, if you’d voiced that thought to him. 

If he was still around. 

He is not.

Instead, you get taunted by a fucking rock ballad, and the wave of painful memories that come with said tune. 

To your horror, it’s not even halfway done yet, and for a moment you actually consider stopping the car completely and turning off its ignition, just to escape it. 

Just to make it stop.

But, miraculously, your silent prayers seem to have been heard by someone with at least a little bit of agency in this universe, because suddenly, out of nowhere, that current curse of a song gets cut off by blaring sounds of static before a different melody breaks through the speakers. 

“ Operator … could you help me…” 

Jim Croce’s voice croaks through the buzzing noises, and a shiver runs down your spine at the memory of where exactly you know that song from.

But before you can dwell on that too much either, your radio simply decides to unceremoniously turn itself off. 

“Fucking finally,” you mumble relieved, while the long-awaited silence engulfs you and the surrounding space of your Camaro. 

Your Camaro?

Billy’s Camaro. 

No one’s Camaro.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you quickly come to the unpleasant realization that silence has its teeth and claws too, as it grows and takes shape right there beside you in the car, flashing you a sinister smile, threatening to swallow you whole. 

Getting haunted and tortured by music, or torn apart by nothing, is hardly a choice worth making. 

Especially not when you’re driving through a darkened forest, on the way home to a town you deeply resent, in a car that used to be your boyfriend’s before he got possessed and brutally killed by an inter-dimensional goo monster. 

And the scars of that story still litter your heart, and your thoughts, and your memories, in ways you can’t even begin to express, because the pain is simply too vast to fit into words, or phrases, or anything else that bears some form of communicational function.

Except scars would imply healing; and you feel anything but that. 

Healed.  

Nor do you think you’ll ever get there again.

Not in this lifetime, you won’t.

You speed up the car a little, until you see the first flickering lights of the town you call both, home, and hell; and the knot that builds in the pit of your stomach at the sight is not something you actively fight anymore. 

You wouldn’t know how to anyway these days. 

Once upon a time, there was the pleasant dream of Californian beaches, of the day where both you and Billy would speed off into the night together, and never, ever, come back again. 

Only for you to wake up in one big, cruel nightmare, with no means for you to escape it.

You wouldn’t know how to anyway these days.

Somehow, you make it through half of the town, despite feeling like you’re on fire, and each passing crossroad is only adding gasoline to the flickering flames eating away at your heart. There’s memories splattered all over this town, and the stains they leave won’t ever truly wash away. No amount of tears, or denial, or distraction will do that job. 

You’ve tried all three enough times to confidently stand by that verdict. 

There’s no escaping it. 

You would have to soak your heart in bleach and acid to get the remnants of Billy out; and even then you’re not sure it would work, because Billy has been the sole inhabitant of that place hidden deep within your chest for so long, that you don’t think it would still count as your heart, without Billy in it.

There’s nothing that can fill the bleeding gash he left in your life, and it’s not like you’d want to replace him either. 

You just want him back. 

You still wait and long for that moment, where you wake up and find out that all of this was just one, big, exceptionally cruel nightmare. 

Yet, that moment never comes, and as of late, you’ve started to lose faith that it ever will. 

Acceptance, or so they call it, but this is just one more of the many things you’d rather not think about. 

And by the time you reach the trailer park, you’ve succeeded in your mission, of blocking these thoughts out completely.

As usual, Max is already standing outside her trailer, waiting for you, and she’s quick to run up to the car as soon as she spots you and the blue Camaro.

You’ve barely come to a stop, when the door to the passenger side already swings wide open, and the little redhead plops down beside you. 

“You’re late.” Are the first few words she throws your way, and with a quick glance at the tiny time display inside your dashboard, you come to the realization that she’s right. 

You are almost 15 minutes late. 

Weird, you think with a frown, you could have sworn you left the newspaper’s office just in time – a rather rare occurrence these days. You’ve been doing a lot of overtime ever since Starcourt Mall. 

Anything, really, to keep yourself from going home or not being busy enough. With Fridays being the only exceptions, because, well, you and Max have shared plans on these evenings.

A ritual, so to speak.

“Sorry,” you mumble apologetically, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“It’s alright, can we just go now, please?” Max grumbles, one of her legs bouncing nervously in anticipation. 

“Right, right.” You state, before maneuvering the car out of the gravely grounds of the trailer park.

The silence that’s been haunting you is back inside the car, hovering over you and your dead boyfriend’s little sister from the comfort of the backseat now.

“So, uhm, how’s school?” You offer, as a way to keep its claws from gripping either one of you too tightly.

It’s a sorry excuse of a topic, and you almost cringe physically as the words leave your lips.

Still better than silence, though.

But Max just huffs as a response, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

“It’s fine.” She says in a way that leaves you to think that she’s said these exact words today about a million times before.

Like a script. 

Like something she’s practiced and recites automatically, without much heart or thought.

Like the way you do, too, whenever someone brings up your current emotional state or well-being.

Looking over at the little redhead, you quietly observe the way the passing lights of the street lamps illuminate her face, and let her drift into darkness again.

Illuminate her face, and let it drift into darkness again. 

Turning your gaze back towards the road, you can’t help but take the mental note that she looks exceptionally pale today. Paler than she did the last time you saw her, which would have to be exactly a week ago. 

Maybe, it’s just the harsh and unforgiving lights of the street lamps feeding that illusion, you tell yourself, but you know in your heart that’s not right. After all, these lights must have been the same ones last time around, too, and you don’t remember her looking so pale then, so what exactly changed now?

As usual, she has her headphones hanging loosely around her neck, and the baggy flannel she’s wearing is something you immediately identify as Billy’s.

There’s a lump the size of the earth stuck in your throat now.

You know she’s hurting. One could say you all are, but it’s safe to say that Billy’s sudden death hit Max and you the hardest.

Launching the two of you into the biggest and deepest spiral. 

You’ve lost the love of your life, and she lost her only brother.

Her big brother.

And though they shared a rather rocky sibling dynamic from the very start, things had been cooling down over the past year. They even started bonding a bit before the tragic events of Starcourt Mall.

Before both of your lives were turned completely upside down, and then never recovered.

Glancing once more over to the girl next to you, you’re overwhelmed by a massive wave of helplessness that washes over you mercilessly. 

Dunking your head underwater, filling your lungs and your chest with despair, rendering your body immobile.

Taking you over, and under, and then spitting you out. 

Soaking your heart till it drowns.

You feel like you should have some comfort, some guidance, something, anything, to say, that might make your young friend feel a little better, but you’re struggling just as much as she is. 

There are no words to relieve the steady ache in your chest, the silent longing, the pounding headaches from all the crying. 

So why should it be any different for her? 

Anything anyone says to you, about how time will heal and mend the cracks of your heart, how they understand, how they’re there to help; it all feels like a cruel joke.

Because no time can heal or mend your heart. There’s hardly anything left of it anyway.

And they don’t understand your loss because, how could they? 

They didn’t lose the love of their life. 

Hell, most of them didn’t even know Billy. 

At least not the real Billy. 

No, they didn’t know him the way you did.

They only knew him as the troublemaker, the hot lifeguard, the one with the speeding Camaro and the anger issues. 

The one who embodied recklessness down to his very bones. 

And don’t most men like that die a tragic and terribly young death? 

But you knew him as the sensitive and softhearted boy he really was underneath it all.

The one who would snuggle into your side even in his sleep, because he always needed you as near and as close as possible.

The one with a terribly odd sense of humor, that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt. 

The one who was so utterly protective and tender when it came to you; whose kisses could make the world stop spinning, whose touches felt like heaven on earth, making even the strongest of angels blush and bloat with envy. 

Billy, your Billy, was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy. 

Someone, who took over your heart and mind in an instant. 

And you knew even then, after the first few dates you two shared, that your life would never be the same again without him in it.

He did have his demons, too, of course. 

The angry voice of his father, like a taunting shadow in the back of his mind. 

The lack of love and trust, a jealous and hungry monster in his heart.

It took a while, until he truly opened up to you, but when he did, well, you got to experience an exceptionally vulnerable and strong-willed man, whose cards had always been stacked against him; but still he fought, still he survived, still he loved you with a heart so fragile, so scared; with an utter and blatant tenderness, that no one who’d hear the name Billy Hargrove would connect to the boy in question.

But to you they were one and the same, really. 

Yet you’ve lost all of that in an instant, in the blink of an eye. 

And you’ll never get it back either, never get to experience the future you and Billy dreamed so vividly about. 

Now his body is stuck in a town he hated, and you’re stuck right there with him.

So, no, when people say they know or understand your loss, they really don’t. Because it wasn’t their world that was ripped away and taken from them in the most cruel way; but yours was. 

And Billy’s. 

And you’ll never recover from it, you’re sure of that. 

There’s a crater where your heart once was. 

There’s only hurt where there once was love and happy memories. 

And the pain of that loss is so vast, so strong, it renders you almost physically immobile on some days.

The bad days. 

The really bad days.

You have a lot of those.

And the empty promises of, “I’m there if you need anything,”  or, “If I can help in any way, let me know,”  they hurt the most, like stabs and twists of an ugly knife, because where were these promises, when Billy needed them?

When he needed help, there was no one there. 

Not even you, because you’d been out of state. 

The biggest mistake of your life. 

But despite that, there had been so many other people in the cursed town of Hawkins, Indiana, and yet, no one noticed. No one cared. And the few people that did realize something was wrong, well, that apparently wasn’t enough. 

And on some days you can’t help but think that maybe they simply didn’t try hard enough.

You know you’re not being fair in your judgment or resentment, but those feelings are hard to stop and rationalize. 

You wonder if Max feels a similar way. If that’s one of the reasons why she keeps such a distance from most of her friends these days. 

You know you kind of do. 

“Geez, is your radio broken, again?” Max curses, her finger still lingering over the on/off button, that apparently stayed unresponsive to her biddings, too.

Her words are what pulls you out of the hurricane in your head, and back into reality.

“Yeah, sorry, it started acting up again earlier.”

Max shakes her head slightly, before muttering, “That’s so weird that it keeps happening, right? Maybe you should let Eddie look over it once more.” 

“He already did, trice. I don’t want to bother him a fourth time with this.”

“I don’t think he’d be bothered. If anything, he would probably rejoice. Come to think of it, maybe it’s been his doing all along; manipulating the car to get you to talk to him, I wouldn’t put it beyond him.”

“Well, I would.”

There’s the hint of a hint of a smile playing on both of your lips. 

“It’s a shame that the Camaro doesn’t like tapes either, anymore.” Max slender fingers linger on the opening of the tape enclosure for a moment, and you watch her with careful eyes.

“Yeah, it’s-“

“It’s almost as if she knows.” Max interrupts, her blue eyes questioningly finding yours.

Despite the fact that she and Billy aren’t related by blood, her eyes look so much like his to you. 

“It’s like the Camaro knows that these aren’t Billy’s tapes, and so, she rejects them.”

“Max,” you chide gently, because now that’s ridiculous. 

“I’m sure the Camaro would reject Billy’s tapes as well; I just haven’t gotten around trying it out yet.”

And I don’t think I ever will, you think.

You can’t even bear the idea of listening to them without him by your side, laughing and singing along. It just feels wrong.

“After the crashes, not everything in this car could be fixed or replaced. She’s bound to have some quirks and flaws. The tape player not properly functioning is just one of those cases, you know.”

“I’m sure they said something similar about Christine.” The redhead mumbles dryly, and you can’t help but scoff with a laugh.

“Max, please.” you huff, trying to keep a straight face. 

“I’m just saying that Billy would have probably kicked me out of the car if I’d asked him to play Kate Bush, so it makes sense that his car would react the same.”

“Oh, hush, Billy wouldn’t have minded a little Kate Bush. In fact, I think he would have secretly liked it.” 

Now, it’s Max’s turn to scoff in disbelief, because of all the lies she’s been told today, this has to be the most blatant one yet.

“Yeah, right.” She states, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“I’m serious!” You insist, “but I guess that only means Billy’s never told you about that time when he and I got awfully drunk on my mom’s expensive port wine, and we were convinced that now was the best moment to try and learn the choreography to Wuthering Heights .” 

Max looks at you wide-eyed. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I’m really not.” 

There’s a short pause as you recall the memory, a small smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“You know, he was always surprisingly steady on his feet, even while drunk, and so of course he ended up being a whole lot better at executing that damn choreo than I was.”

You still remember that night vividly. The two of you had laughed so hard, your stomach still ached the very next day. And you’ll never forget the big, boyish smile taking over Billy’s face, when he managed to nail the Choreography part of the chorus without much fault. 

“I’ve got it!” He’d beamed, outshining all of the stars that night.

“Look, look! I've got it!” 

And as he twirled around he almost knocked your dad’s car magazines off the coffee table. But he still looked great doing it, and most importantly, he was having the time of his life, so, it was all okay. 

He looked so young that day, so full of life and hope. 

That memory, like all memories involving Billy, stings somewhere deep within your chest. But for a brief moment there’s also a small spark of happiness there, as a tiny smile etches itself on your lips. 

A very tiny smile, but a smile, nevertheless.

And Max, who’s lost in the idea of trying to imagine her older brother dancing to that particular song out of all the possible songs, well, there’s a tiny smile on her lips playing, too.

“That must have been quite a night to remember.” She mumbles, and you nod your head in agreement. 

“It was.” You admit softly. 

It really, really was. 

The silence that takes over the car now has nothing threatening, nothing sinister. Instead, there’s a calmness that you haven’t experienced in quite a while, and for a moment you feel like you can breathe again. 

Like you aren’t suffocating under the weight of Billy’s loss. 

Or your loss. 

The loss of the world.

“Alright, we’re almost here.” You state while setting the blinker as you take the last turn. It’s only a handful of minutes now, until you two will reach your destination. 

Billy’s final destination. 

Clenching your hands into fists around the steering wheel, you realize just how much that truth still angers and upsets something deep within you.

That thought, however, drifts into the background as the parking lot creeps into view, and just like every Friday evening, there’s not a single spot taken. 

Not a single car around. 

Except for the one you and Max are currently sitting in. 

The headlights of the Camaro illuminate a sparse line of trees in front of you, as you park the car, and you can vaguely make out the first few silhouettes of some lonely gravestones peeking out from behind them. 

For a brief moment, you stare at the sight ahead of you. Taking in the way the cold light of the car leaves an eerie glow on the dark tree barks, giving their trunks a haunting yet artificial look. The grass beneath, wet with dew, or remnants of the last rain, reflects the light softly, intensifying the surrounding glow. 

The only thing missing is some fog, you think. But with summer slipping into autumn, that kind of element is waiting just around the corner. Give it another week or two, and you and Max will have the perfect horror movie setting at your hands by then.

“I’ll go grab the flowers from the trunk.” Max pulls you out of your thoughts again, and you take that as your cue to shake the lingering residue of your last mentation off, before grabbing your backpack from the backseat, as well as the flashlight you keep in the gloves department, and then, finally, you decidedly turn the engine of. 

In the blink of an eye darkness encompasses the surrounding trees again, while the Camaro’s headlights go to sleep. 

As you close the car door with a heavy thump, Max echoes the sound shortly after with the booming noise of the trunk shutting, too.

“Ready?” You question, as you turn around to face her, and she gives you a brief nod. 

But when you move to lock the car, the headlights of the Camaro suddenly turn themselves back on again. It’s only brief, for a split second maybe, before the darkness of the night creeps back into its rightful place, like nothing happened, like nothing disturbed it at all. 

If you had been all on your own, you might have convinced yourself that you just imagined it, but with Max right there by your side, bearing witness, that’s hardly a possibility. 

Max, however, just shrugs her shoulders as she comes up next to you. 

“Eddie.” She simply states, and you’re not sure if she’s trying to state the name of the culprit or the solution. 

As the two of you step up the curb that gives way to the graveyard, marking the territory like a faint line between the home of the living and the dead, she softly bumps her shoulder into your side. 

“Or, Christine, if you know what I mean.” 

“Max,” You huff again with a small laugh.

She’s really trying to drive that point home, you think. 

“Aren’t you too young to watch horror movies like that anyway?” You tease.

Despite the deep darkness surrounding you two, you can tell that Max is throwing you the most utterly offended look, like you’ve just asked her if she still sleeps with a nightlight and a mobile, or something. 

“I think I should punch you for this.” She mumbles, but there’s no real malice behind her words, just a matter-of-fact kind of dryness that she most definitely picked up from her brother.

This time, it’s your turn to playfully bump your shoulder slightly into her side, as you continue to walk next to each other. 

You both know the way by heart. Eyes closed, eyes tied, in a dream – it doesn’t matter, either of you know the exact path to the grave that holds so much more than a brother, or a lover. 

You continue to walk a little longer in the lingering silence and darkness.

It’s not even that dark once your eyes have become accustomed to the lack of light sources. The flashlight you crammed into the side-pocket of your backpack only really exists for emergencies, like when your zippo won’t work to light the candle at the graveside. 

A few weeks ago, you and Max didn’t even need any additional light sources at all, because the sun wouldn’t set until you were back inside the car. 

But as of late, ever since the days have begun to get colder and shorter, and the sun started to stick around less and less, you found yourself needing some kind of extra illumination at the very least when the two of you are at the graveside. 

The choice to only go with a candle was easy enough. Both you and Max luckily shared the sentiment that anything’s better than the harsh and artificial glow of a flashlight. 

Besides, you’d been lighting candles next to Billy’s headstone even before the nights started to creep in earlier, and earlier, and stay for so much longer, too. 

It also seems more peaceful that way, walking to the grave in the natural darkness, trying not to disturb any of the surrounding sleeping souls buried on the haunting grounds of Hawkins, Indiana.

During your last few trips to visit Billy, the setting sun was at the very least still a loyal companion on your walks to the grave, but today might actually mark the first time that there isn’t even the faintest sliver of orange hovering at the edge of the horizon anymore.

Instead, there’s only a deep indigo blue, similar to the one of the Camaro you now get to call your own. 

“You know,” you break through the quiet song of the last remaining crickets and the low humming of the wind rustling through the trees, whispering sweet nothings to the blushing leaves before carrying them away. 

“When Billy and I initially started dating, one of the first things he told me about you was how much you loved horror movies. He tried not to sound too impressed, but I could tell he was quite proud of that, of you.” 

You feel Max’s wide-eyed gaze on you once more, two big oceans of blue and a wave of disbelief. 

“Really?” She mutters, trying hard not to sound too affected. 

“Yeah, really. Told me how often you’d want to rewatch Halloween. He tried his best to look annoyed, but you could tell he really wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. Max, I know you two used to share a complicated relationship, and he certainly wasn’t the type of guy who’d wear his heart on his sleeve, but he did care a whole lot about you.” 

“I know,” Max mumbles while kicking a few pebbles across the grass, one hand buried in the depth of her pocket, the other one still holding on to the small flower bouquet that you bought earlier during your lunch break. 

Silence takes shape between the two of you once more, safe for the sound of your steps on the mix of fallen leaves, dirt, and gravel. 

But you come to a stop soon after - at a grave whose sight still burns holes in the broken remnants of your heart. 

William Hargrove it states, etched into dark and cold stone, followed by two dates: One that means the whole world to you, and one that pulled the rug from under your feet in the cruelest of ways, leaving you to float in a state of disbelief, anger, and infinite sadness. 

And you still struggle to come down from that, to face the reality of it all, accepting it.   

Leaving you to question what’s the world without Billy in it. Not much, not really. Not when it comes to your world anyway. 

And then, underneath that, the grave’s finishing touches says: Gone, but not forgotten.  

Such an impersonal statement. 

Something that could also be said about the missing neighborhood cat for all you cared. 

But what did you expect from a father like Neil? 

A big ode devoted to how great of a son Billy was? Of course not. 

You almost got into a physical fight with him over Billy’s burial. You had wanted for Billy’s last resting place to be somewhere in California. The place he never stopped calling his home with so much fondness and longing, instead of the town he absolutely despised with every single bone in his body.

You had been willing to take care of it all, to drive him there yourself if you needed to, pay for anything, sell your soul if that’s what it took. But Neil had refused every single plea and offer from your side, and it took both Eddie and Steve to hold you back from, well, escalating that whole situation further. 

But all of this lays behind you now, even if the wound that Billy’s sudden death created continues to feel so tender and raw, like it just happened yesterday, and each time you visit his grave, there’s still a twinge of disbelieve bubbling up inside of you at the sight of the gravestone and everything that lies beneath. 

Billy.

Your Billy.  

“Are you going to-“ Max’s voice pulls you out of your head again. 

“Oh yeah, sorry!” 

You don’t know where your head is today. 

Your heart? No question, six feet under next to Billy. 

Your head? You must have left it somewhere during the car drive to the trailer park because you’re pretty sure you were still doing somewhat fine while working at the newspaper earlier.

Trying hard not to keep Max waiting any longer, you kneel down while getting the new candle from out of your backpack, but before you even get to lighting it, Max speaks up again. 

“How about I get the broom this time, while you finish up here?” She offers and though that idea surprises you, you nod your head. 

“Sure, why not.“ You state, offering her your flashlight, but she just brushes you off.

“It’s fine.“ She says with a little wave before walking in the direction of where some gardening materials are usually hidden underneath a small shelter. You’re not even sure if these things are actually intended for public use or not. But so far no one’s told either of you otherwise. 

The whole routine is based around a weird little habit you two established early on, after your first or second visit to the grave together.

Initially, it was a simple watering can that you would go get from that place at the other side of the graveyard, giving Max the possibility to have some time with her brother by herself. 

There were a few wildflowers blooming near Billy’s gravestone that you two would then water with the can together, before Max would bring it back to its rightful place again, leaving you to have a couple of minutes of alone time with Billy in return.

Now, with summer slipping into autumn, there’s no need for watering flowers anymore. Instead, Max incidentally found a small hand broom in between the other gardening tools a few weeks ago, and her eyes lit up immediately, as a new idea formed in her head.

There‘s a strong pine tree not too far off from Billy’s grave, and occasionally a few needles and debris find their way onto his gravestone. 

But not anymore, because nowadays Max makes a continuous effort to brush them away, with the help of the small broom she’s found, of course.

The first time she decided to do that, it caught you off guard completely, and the tenderness with which she‘d clean the gravestone certainly didn’t help your emotional tumult either; brushing the stone with a care like it could be Billy’s hair. 

“Now you’re all pretty again.” She would mumble to the cold stone once she was completely done, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek hard, to not let out a single sob or tear.

You’d get back in your rhythm after that, with you usually getting the broom, and Max bringing it back again. Occasionally you would switch up these roles, but for the most part they stayed the same, yet you are thankful to get a few minutes alone with Billy first, this time around, for a change.

You really, really need that right now.

“Hi,” you whisper softly, still on your knees while planting your hands securely on the ground, fingers trying to dig their way inside; inside the earth that holds Billy’s remains. 

You don’t notice you’re crying until the image of your hands gets blurry, and a small sob escapes your lips. 

You haven’t cried by his grave in a long time. 

Geez, what is it with you today? You mentally chide yourself, rubbing your eyes in a hurry. You don’t want to worry Max any more than you probably already do, so she really shouldn’t witness you like this.

Get yourself together! You scold underneath your breath, trying to focus on the flickering flames of the candle for a little bit, before turning back fully towards the grave.

To Billy.

“I miss you,” you whisper, like old times, like always. 

“They played our song today on the radio, but I c-couldn’t… It just hurts too much, Billy. It just all hurts too much.” 

Slumping down a little more, your fingers find their way back into wet earth. 

“Billy,” you whisper, “I don’t know how-“ 

The sound of careful steps in the distance makes you pause. 

Max.  

Talking a steading breath, you try to get back in a more dignified position, straightening your back and blinking hot tears away quickly.

By the time she comes to a stop next to you, you hope you look a little more pulled together. 

“Do you want to-“ Max holds the small broom out to you like a peace offering.

“No, no, it’s fine, Max, go ahead.” 

Your eyes cannot bear to witness her gravestone-cleaning-ritual tonight. So, instead, you toy with the zipper of your backpack for a little while before standing up, brushing lingering pieces of earth from your jeans in an effort to seem busy. 

And fine.

You’re absolutely fine. 

“I’ll just bring the old flowers over to the compost.” You state after a heartbeat of silence and nothing to do. “You can put the new ones in the vase if you’d like.” 

Max only nods her head at your words, too absorbed in her own little routine. 

Taking the withering flowers out of the small, sturdy vase you two planted next to the edge of his stone, you walk over to the compost with quick strides. It’s not too far off, and you’re glad you have something to do as a distraction. 

That’s another one of your shared rituals – bringing a fresh bouquet of flowers to Billy’s grave every Friday night, and getting rid of the old one by default, too. It’s the least you can do, in your mind. Because you have to do something for Billy. 

Anything.   

Even if it’s too late now. 

Once you’re back at the grave, Max has finished not only the cleaning of the gravestone, but  also managed to put the new flowers up, too.

They’re a lovely mix of blue and yellow, kind of like sunlight reflecting on the ocean’s surface – at least that’s what they looked like in broad daylight earlier, anyway. Now, their colors are more muted by the surrounding darkness, but you can still guess their shades roughly.

“Looks great, Max.” You quietly praise, and she gives you an appreciating smile. It’s only short and faint, and vanishes quickly, but it’s still a smile. 

You two stand there in silence for a little while longer, gazing at the graveside together.

The glow of the candle bathes its surroundings in a soft and tender golden hue, but it flickers every now and then, like an unsteady heartbeat. You try not to think of Billy at that realization, try not to let that memory of Starcourt Mall overtake your mind.

Max keeps fidgeting with the broom in her hand next to you, and you’re about to ask her if you should take it back to the shelter, when she suddenly speaks up again. 

“Does it ever make you angry?” She asks, and you can’t help but furrow your brows in slight confusion. 

“Does what make me angry, Max?” 

Turning the broom over in her hands once more, she’s quiet for a heartbeat longer, before whispering: “That you can’t tell anyone why he’s gone; why he left. That he died saving-“ 

Her voice breaks slightly, and there are tears back in your eyes. 

“I mean, instead, he’s just one more victim of some stupid fire. L-like he didn’t sacrifice everything. And I can’t even talk to the other’s about it because they don’t understand, not really, not when it comes to Billy. But honestly, I don’t care what it takes, I just want him back!“ 

Your gaze softens at Max’s admission, her outburst, because, hell, if you don’t feel the exact same way. 

“Max, hey,” you quickly soothe, once you realize that her eyes are darting restlessly over the vicinity, her jaw clenched, the hand around the broom tightening.

She’s doing the exact same thing Billy used to do, when he was fighting back tears, trying hard not to let them slip.

Trying hard not to cry.

“Oh, Max.” You whisper, before instinct takes over and you wrap her up into your arms.

It takes her only a split second before she melts into you, a little sob wrecking her body as she hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you mutter, “it’s alright, you can cry. It’s alright, I’ve got you.” 

You don’t immediately notice how much these words sound like the ones you’d usually mumble to Billy in an effort to ease his falls, his pains, his tears in the past. 

You stay like that for a little while, rubbing gentle circles on Max’s back, voice soft and calm, encouraging her to let it all out. 

“I just want him back!” She wails, and the desperate tone of her voice cuts you right through your heart, through your bones, through every fiber of your being. 

“I know,” You whisper, tears openly running down your face as well now. “I do too, I want him back just as much as you do. And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t sacrifice, to get that, but we both know this isn’t possible. There’s nothing any of us can do, to bring him back alive and well.” 

Blinking your tears away once more, you try to steady yourself and your voice, while you continue to hold Max. 

You wonder when the last time was that she let herself cry like that, be held like that. You know she’s been keeping a certain distance from her friends, know that she broke things off with Lucas shortly after the events of Starcourt Mall, know that her family life turned even more chaotic with Billy’s passing.

You know all of these things and yet you found yourself so occupied by your own hurt and grief that the struggles of the little redhead managed to drift out of sight for you, at least for a little while. 

But right now, in this moment, you’re once more reminded of just how much you two have in common when it comes to the loss of Billy, and the significance it carries for the both of you.

To a certain extent, you think you might even have it a little bit easier than her, because you don’t have to reconcile so many different versions of Billy, the way Max undoubtedly has to. 

The way you felt towards Billy has never been particularly divergent, never been exposed to much change, but Max on the other hand… There’s a more intricate relationship there. One with a rocky start and middle at the very least. 

So, reconciling Billy’s death in the context of their history carries a different weight for Max than it does for you. 

Additionally, something that you also slowly realize, as you sway Max gently in your arms, is that she kind of serves as a reflection of Billy for you in many ways. She’s adapted quite a few mannerisms from her older brother; things that make you see him in her, and there’s an odd comfort in that. 

But, you doubt that it’s the other way around as well. That she can see glimpses of Billy in the little things you do, too. 

“Max,” You whisper softly, “I miss your brother dearly, and I know you do, too. I know you’re hurting more than you let on. And I wish I could ease your pains. Wish I could take your hurt and mine and just bury it somewhere together with Billy, but I can’t. I can’t get him back, and I can’t make it better, and I’d be lying if I said I know how to move on, but we do have to try, somehow.

“I know me out of all people saying that you shouldn’t distance yourself from your friends too much, while I do the exact same thing would be hypocritical of me, so I’m not even gonna go there; but Max if you ever want to talk about Billy, not just the good things, but the bad things as well, I’m always here, always.”

“Fuck,” you huff with a quiet laugh, “I usually hate it when people tell me that, so feel free to hit me now, if you want to, but I still stand by these words. And for the record, I’m still incredibly angry at the whole mall-fire-lie. It hurts that even in his death there’s nothing but misconceptions about Billy, I don’t think he deserves that. 

“Max, I understand how much the loss of Billy must affect you, cause it affects me, too. You and I might be the only two people in this god forsaken town, who really knew Billy, so, if you ever want to talk about it, about him, his death, anything; even about how much of a fucking dickhead he could be, I’m always just a phone call away, alright? A phone call and a quick drive of the Camaro is all it takes, Max.“ 

By now, Max’s sobs have eased into quiet sniffles, and she looks up at you with her usual wide-eyed gaze.

“Yeah?” She questions.

“Yeah.” You promise with a reassuring smile. 

“You’re like a little sister to me, always have, always will be.”

Brushing a few loose strands of orange from her face, and wiping away the last remaining tears from her cheeks, you look at her with all the sincerity in your eyes that this world can hold, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

“Okay?” You question softly and Max nods her head in a slow manner.

“I will be.” She whispers. 

And that’s all you can wish for, for the both of you.

The moon has decided to show her face around, too, by now, peeking through a few translucent clouds, painting silver stripes on the ground and the cold graves.

“Do you want me to take the broom back while-“ You offer after a short pause, but Max is quick to interrupt you.

“No, it’s okay, we can do this together and then get back to the car, if that’s alright?”

“Sure thing.” There’s a gentle smile playing on your lips as you watch Max skip ahead a little bit before she’s turning back around towards you. 

“You can always talk to me about Billy, too, you know.” She offers quietly, and you hope that the moonlight doesn’t give away the tears shining in your eyes. 

“I know.” 

The rest if the walk back to the car turns out to be uneventful, but then again, it usually is. The detour to the shelter takes only a few minutes more, and by the time the two of you are back in the car, you feel a shallow tiredness start to slowly creep up on you. 

Luckily, the trailer park isn’t too far off, and Max also seems in a more chatty mood now, than during the previous ride, so, you have something more to focus on than just the empty road in front of you, and maybe the growing inabilities of your car radio.

“You know,” she suddenly says, “you really should talk to Eddie.” 

“Still convinced this car is Christine 2.0?”

“No. I just- listen, how about a deal?” 

“A deal?”

“Uh-huh. If you’ll talk to Eddie, I’ll talk to Lucas…no, wait! I’ll talk to Dustin; that would make more sense, right? Since Eddie is to you what Dustin is to me?”

“Max, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know.”

You do in fact kind of know. There’s a small inkling about what she’s trying to say, even if you don’t like where she’s getting at. 

“And why should I talk to Eddie?” 

“ Be-cause. Also, I think you two might need it, and maybe he’ll finally stop asking about you constantly. Besides, you did say I shouldn’t distance myself too much from my friends, and neither should you, so…”

“Max…”

“I’m just throwing ideas out there, alright. I mean, shouldn’t you as a big sister set a good example at least?”

“You’re seriously going to use all of my own words against me right now, huh?”

There’s no real malice in your voice, just a hint of surprise and dare you say, a little amusement. 

Max really is as sly as her big brother. 

“Fine,” you mumble, “but you better keep up your end of the bargain and talk to Dustin, too.”

“Deal.” Max promises, as she holds her hand out to you. Such a Dustin-move, you think, or maybe even Steve’s, but you probably do well not to mention it. 

“Deal.” You echo, before slapping Max’s outstretched hand and she smiles. 

And as you turn away to set the indicator, you notice that you’re smiling, too.

You two turn up at the trailer park shortly after, and by now, the night has truly settled in.

Some of the trailers are left completely in the dark, while others illuminate the glumly surroundings through their rectangular windows and makeshift porch lights. 

You don’t immediately notice Eddie sitting on the steps of his trailer at first. He, on the other hand, notices you straightaway. 

You’re hard to miss with the Camaro, though.

“Alright, here we are.” You mumble after turning off the ignition and Max leaps out of the car quickly.

You watch her walk up to Eddie, who in return is making his way over to you, and you quietly sigh. 

Please don’t make me regret this, Max, you think. 

Please don’t make me regret this.  

Once you step out of the car, you roughly hear Max say something about the state of your radio, and you watch the way Eddie nods his head deep in thought before his gaze shifts, and his eyes suddenly find yours. 

Oh, you’re going to regret this, you think.

But there’s no way out, and Max, that little shit, fakes an exaggerated yawn. 

“Huh? I’m really tired, I better get to bed now.” 

You can tell that she struggles to say these words with a straight face, trying her very best to cover the pleased smile that threatens to spill out. She even has the audacity to do an overzealous stretch, trying hard to drive her look-at-me-I’m-so-sleepy point home. 

Smug little shit, you think, as you watch her hop up the steps to her trailer, opening the door swiftly. 

She calls your name one last time, thanking you with a small, yet sincere smile, before calling out to the both of you: “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

By now, she has almost vanished behind the door, but not before giving you a little, hidden thumbs up. 

Pointing over to Eddie she mouths, “Be careful with the car!” or something of that sort. You’re too far away, to really be able to tell, so you wouldn’t bet your life on it. 

And then with a low rumble, the door falls shut behind her.

For a moment, you find yourself dumbfounded at the redhead’s behavior, but before you can dwell on it for too long, the sound of crunching steps pulls you out of your thoughts again.

Eddie.  

“Hey.” He sounds slightly out of breath, timid even, like he’s worried you might run off if he speaks too loudly. 

“Hey.” You echo, because you don’t know what else to say.

“Max told me that your radio is acting funny again.” 

You almost let a sigh of relief slip past your lips at the realization that Eddie decided to skip the whole how-are-you-doing-and-holding-up part of the conversation. 

Guess he still knows you better than you thought.

“Yeah,” you mumble, eyes darting over the ground like it might hold the world’s secrets, or maybe just an escape plan for you to get out of this conversation. 

Unfortunately, it features neither; nothing but dimly lit gravel, dirt, old cigarette buds, and dried, fallen leaves. 

There’s not even a hole that opens up to swallow you whole. 

Seems like you’re completely out of luck today, you think, resignation settling heavy in your heart. 

It’s just a conversation, you try to tell yourself. 

Just a simple conversation with an old friend.

But when you look back up at Eddie, his big brown eyes are immediately too kind, too understanding, too much for you to bear at once.

“Uhm, yeah, the radio has been acting off again, but, it’s fine, really, don’t worry about it.” 

Your words come out jumbled, like they all tried to leave the captivity of your mouth as fast as they could, tumbling over each other in the process. 

But Eddie just gives you a look that seems to say: It’s not the radio I’m worried about.  

And you can’t take it. 

You can take the pitiful glances from the unfamiliar and whispering women at Melvald’s. You can take the talking, the stares, the fingers pointing in your direction, when they think they’re being real smooth, but you cannot take it from your friends. 

The strangers? Yes. 

Your once-upon-a-time best friend? Not so much.

“Max said, you’ve been fucking with the car.”

You’re not sure what in god’s name possessed you to blur that out, but Eddie looks at you like his eyes might pop out of his skull.

“What?!” 

“Max said, she thinks you might have been fucking with the car.” You repeat, as if it’s the words that Eddie didn’t quite catch right the first time around. 

“I-I know, you didn’t, obviously, but she also said that you’ve been asking about me and-”

“Yeah, no shit, genius,” Eddie huffs, slight amusement illuminating his features, “how else am I supposed to find out about your well-being, when you’ve been dropping from the face of the earth.” 

You’re grateful for the things he doesn’t say. The accusations he very well could throw your way. Like how you haven’t returned any of his phone calls over the last few weeks for example. 

“And for the record, I didn’t fuck with the Camaro. Though, I do have to admit, I’m slightly baffled that Max would even consider me capable of that, I don’t know if I should feel flattered or concerned.” 

“Bit of both, maybe.” 

The small smiles you and Eddie exchange feel entirely foreign, yet at the same time oddly familiar.

This is wrong, a voice in your head proclaims, you have no right to be doing that. No reason to feel even a little bit cheery.

But now that Eddie managed to crack the surface of your aloof exterior, he’s going to seep into the protective walls of withdrawal and detachment you’ve built around yourself in the span of the last few months. Coaxing his way in, trying to pull you out.

You know it, and maybe, he knows it, too. 

There’s a tug and pull war inside your brain. A damsel in distress, wanting to be saved, and a dragon that spits angry flames at anyone that comes too near. And the way that Eddie is able to put you at ease is entirely too close. 

He’s going to get hurt, or you are, a voice inside of you warns. 

You’re not ready yet. You’re still mourning, still struggling, still walking around with half a beating heart, the other, better half, lifelessly buried somewhere in Hawkins. Gone, but not forgotten.  

You shouldn’t be happy yet. Shouldn’t exchange smiles with a friend you once held dear. 

You’re doing a disservice to Billy, an ugly voice chides, and you feel your smile slipping. 

You’re doing a disservice to Billy.  

The smile on your face is gone for good.

“Do you want me to look at the car radio?” Eddie offers after another heartbeat of silence, haunted by the sudden inability to read your face. 

The walls are up again, and there’s a strong defense sitting in the highest towers of your broken mind.

He can’t reach you anymore.

You can’t let him reach you anymore. 

“It’s fine, Eds.” 

The nickname slips past your lips like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Like the earnest laughs you used to share. Natural, and warm, and- 

But that was at a moment in time when Billy was still around.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to do that, Eddie. You’ve already inspected it three times, I can’t ask you to do that again.”

“You don’t have to ask, I’m offering. I don’t mind checking it out once more.”

Maybe there’s simply nothing to check out, maybe the car just hates me, you think. 

Maybe Max’s Christine fever dream of an idea isn’t too far off at all. 

Maybe you’re just going a little crazy.

Maybe there’s nothing to fix. 

Broken beyond repair. 

Yet your friends keep trying anyway.

The unwelcomed silence has decided to crawl out of the car, taking heavy steps towards you, pushing itself between you and Eddie. Taking the words out of your mouth, your brain, and filling it with cotton. 

Until you can’t breathe. 

You wonder if Eddie can feel its presence, too, as you watch him shuffle his feet uncomfortably. Trying to come up for words, like air, but the current of silence renders you both immobile before pulling you under again. 

You’re drowning at the offshore trailer park of Hawkins, Indiana, in a cobalt blue night, and a silence so heavy, the surrounding trees might start to buckle and break at any given moment under its weight.

“You know, I, uhm-“ Eddie starts, helpless. Like he’s putting one hand up as an imploring sign, before vanishing under the waves again. 

But you’re out in the open, too, incapable of throwing him any kind of lifeline.

“I, uh, I’ve made you the tape.”

“What?”

Is there water in your ears? Or cotton? You don’t think you’ve heard him right.

“The song that you talked about that night, I managed to get my hands on it, and I thought-“

Your mouth feels too dry, but now it’s for an entirely different reason. 

“Eddie-“

“I know, I know, I promised to never bring that night up again, but I thought, maybe you still crave that song and-“ 

You only now notice the small, rectangular object in Eddie’s hands that he keeps fiddling with. 

Turning it over, and under, and over again.

Like flotsam in a current.

“If you don’t want it, it’s fine. I just thought that maybe, I don’t know, it might help? Listen, I know it’s probably silly, and maybe you don’t want to hear that song at all anymore but-“

“No, I do!” 

Your hand reaches out towards Eddie before withdrawing again halfway.

“I do. I still miss that song.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You breathe. 

He still cares, you realize. 

He still cares, deeply. 

Why else would he remember the things you drunkenly told him during that one night, a few days after Billy’s funeral, when he’d found you out of your mind inebriated at the quarry. 

That was months ago. 

Months. 

You wonder if his attempts to reach out had been partially about this, all this time.

How long has he been trying to give this tape, and how long have you kept him, like everyone else, on more than a little arm's length? 

The remnants of your heart do an uncomfortable twist sparked by a wave of guilt.

“Eddie, I don’t know what to-“

“You don’t have to say anything. Just take it, and maybe it can help you a little; cheer you up a little.” 

With the uttermost tender care, you take the mixtape that your friend is holding out to you. 

Your fingers brush against each other, slightly, softly, yet it sparks a feeling that travels through you like lightning moving through a single tree. Cutting it open, setting it ablaze, painting its body in flames and ash down to its very roots. 

Maybe, you think, it’s not just Max that needs a good hug. 

If Eddie notices the turmoil taking place inside of you, he doesn’t show, doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t seem to be affected in the ways that you are. 

“So, about your car radio-” He starts, once you’ve securely stored the tape in the biggest pocket of your leather jacket. 

Billy’s leather jacket. 

You’re about to brush him off again, but Eddie just lifts his hand in a gesture to continue speaking. 

“Let me inspect it just once more. Maybe there’s something wrong with the wiring that I didn’t catch before, for some reason. I’ll look at it first thing in the morning, I promise, and in the meantime I can drive you home instead.” 

“Eddie, I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think this is going to work. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I-”

“Shit, that’s the day you usually join Chrissy in her visits to Heather in the hospital, right?” 

“Right.” You nod your head slowly, while Eddie lets out a pensive sigh. 

Silence takes over the space between the two of you again, and you shift your gaze towards the distant woods, watching the way the wind moves swiftly through the branches of a couple of trees, leaving their dark silhouettes shivering and shaking. 

Once your eyes dart back to Eddie, you expect him to look somewhat crestfallen, but instead there’s a tiny, mischievous smile playing on the edges of his lips.

“I have an idea,” He proposes, the small smile on his lips growing, “I would have to check in with the headquarters office of Eddie’s Mechanic Enterprise, but I’m pretty sure we offer an additional shuttle service for our very best customers.” 

"Shuttle service?" You question, lips tugging upwards as your friend’s smile proves itself to be of the contagious kind once again. 

“Yeah...” Eddie shifts his feet slightly, one hand coming up to rub a hidden spot on his neck, “I need to run some errands for my uncle tomorrow at Melvald’s, meaning I’d already be in your neighborhood at some point.” 

“So, you’re shuttling me and-” 

“A carton of eggs, yes.” 

“Well, in that case, that company seems hard to top.” 

“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks, trying hard to curb the excitement bubbling up inside of him. 

“If you and your eggs can make it to my place before 10 o’clock, say, a quarter to 10, maybe?” 

“A quarter to 10, confirmed and noted, ma’am.” Eddie states with a small salute, and this time you really cannot help the soft giggle from slipping out.

It’s a warm and gentle sound, one that Eddie hasn’t witnessed in quite a while, and it fills and nourishes a spot in his chest that has been starved for way too long. 

“I’ll try to have the Camaro looked over and finished by then, but I’m not entirely sure…” 

“Eds, it’s fine. I’m sure Chrissy can drop me off after the visit, and if not, I’ll be sure to call Eddie’s Mechanic Enterprise from one of the hospital pay phones. In any case, you can bring the Camaro over throughout the day, whenever.” 

“Okay,” Eddie sighs, clearly relieved, as you suppress the urge to reach out and give his shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 

“Listen, I’m pretty sure that car radio is beyond salvation, so don't stress about finding a cure too much. Besides, this is Hawkins we’re speaking of, so, the radio signals are kind of shit either way.” 

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had issues with my radio signals.” 

“Interesting, and how many times do you, Eddie Munson, listen to the radio again?” 

“Fair enough.” Your friend huffs with a quiet laugh, before taking a few steps back, stretching one of his arms out in a wide gesture.

“Your carriage awaits you, m’lady.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, suddenly overwhelmed by Eddie’s determined kindness and effort to make you feel at ease. 

But Eddie just brushes you off with a quick movement of his hand, as if to say don’t mention it. 

As you two walk up to his van, you can’t help but turn around once more, glancing back at Max's trailer. For a brief moment, you think you see one of the curtains move swiftly, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Little red haired devil, you think. You’re still not sure what exactly she’s up to, but you’re certain you’ll find out eventually. 

By the time you turn around again, Eddie’s already waiting by his car, holding the passenger side open for you. 

This, you notice once more with a sudden shred of wariness, feels entirely too familiar.

Eddie’s van looks and feels the same way it always does. Slightly chaotic, a little dusty, and the smell of weed is, well, rather present to say the least. 

It’s a little odd being back in that space, but not entirely uncomfortable, and Eddie is quick to turn the radio on, filling the lingering silence with a more pleasant background noise.

For a brief moment, you wonder why on earth he’d do that voluntarily, especially considering that he has about a million metal tapes scattered around this place, before it hits you. 

He’s deliberately not playing his metal tapes because of Billy. Because if there’s one thing he and Billy used to have in common, apart from sharing a certain fondness for the devils lettuce, it’s their love for metal music. And while Billy steered more towards glam-metal and Eddie preferred the trashy kind, they still would rock out together to Metallica and W.A.S.P. and KIX. 

You all would.

And you can’t help but think that the only reason Eddie’s currently putting up with the seemingly endless horror that’s commercially popular and radio suitable music, is out of a deep consideration for you. 

Because he doesn’t want to trigger you. Doesn’t want to bring up any kind of painful memories of you and Billy and maybe Eddie in some way or another. 

There’s Eddie Rabbitt coming from his speakers now, for crying out loud. There’s no way he’d listen to that on his own accord, and yet, he’s putting up with it, for you.

Staring deliberately out of the window to your right, you wipe your eyes quickly, anxious that Eddie might see. You don’t know where all of these tears are coming from today, but they sure love showing up. 

The drive to your place continues for a little bit in silence before Eddie, your Eddie, not the singer currently proclaiming his love for rainy nights on the radio, decides to speak up.

“You know, I miss you, I mean, we all do, obviously, the campaigns aren’t the same without you, and-“

You watch Eddie take a steading breath, as his hands tighten around the steering wheel. 

“I know that losing Billy must be incredibly difficult for you, and I won’t even try to pretend to know what that’s like, but he was my friend too, you know. A-and I’m not saying this in an effort to downplay your pain in any way. I’m saying this as a reminder that you’re not alone in this. That you and Max aren’t the only ones missing him, and also because I.. I don’t want to lose you too, okay?” 

There’s another heartbeat of silence before Eddie whispers: “I’ve already lost one good friend, and I don’t want to lose another. I understand that you need your space, but please don’t be a stranger. Please, don’t turn into one.“

The ticking sound of the indicator and the low whispers of music are the only two things that fill the heavy silence that follows, and you have to wipe your eyes again. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, voice incredibly soft and timid, “I didn’t mean to lock you out, it’s just…” 

A sniffle breaks through your words, through the silence, through the entirety of Eddie’s heart. 

“I think when Billy died, something inside of me broke, something significant, and I don’t think I can fix it. I don’t know how to fix this, Eddie-“

This time, it’s a sob that cuts you off in your own speech, and you don’t even try to hide the tears running down your face anymore.

There’s no way you could, because there are way too many now.

“I’ve only ever imagined a future with Billy by my side, and now that he’s gone, I don’t know how to move forward.” You admit quietly.

“It feels like his death created a chasm between me and the rest of the world. And I can still see it somewhere in the distance, see everyone else moving on, right there on the other side, but I can’t find a way to join them for the life of me.” 

It takes everything in Eddie not to stop the car, not to unbuckle your seatbelt and engulf you in his arms, in the biggest hug of the universe.

But he’s not sure you’d appreciate that; not sure if he’s crossing ten lines in one breath by doing so. 

So, instead, he slows the car on the otherwise empty road down a bit, before leaning over to you slightly, taking your hand securely in his. 

“But I’m right here, sweetheart,” He whispers, big brown eyes finding yours, “there’s not a chasm between us right now, is there?

"I understand that it might feel this way, especially when you’re all on your own, but I’m right here, and so is everyone else, too. Nobody expects you to continue on with your life like nothing happened, but you’ve been so hard to reach lately, I’m worried that one day you’ll slip away completely, and I don’t want to lose you, too.” 

There are tears swimming in Eddie’s eyes, mirroring yours. 

There’s a heavy understanding in his heart, mirroring yours. 

Maybe, you think, you really aren’t quite as alone in this.

“I just,” you try to think of a way to phrase this, unsure of where to start, and where to stop. 

“I just miss him so much.”

“I know.”

“And I thought, I think, I don’t know, I guess I’m just not that easy to be around these days.” 

“You don’t need to be, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t understand, Eddie. I’m hardly fun anymore. I start crying out of nowhere at the most random times, and I still feel so much anger, so much hurt, that on some days I think that’s all that I’m made of, a-and I feel like I’m doing a disservice to Billy by-“

“By letting yourself be happy? By putting yourself in situations you know you might enjoy, even if it’s just a tiny little bit? By starving yourself of the company of your friends, because you fear you might be too much of a bummer, a burden, or you could find yourself enjoying something despite Billy’s absence?”

Eddie questions carefully, and though you hate to admit it, he’s hitting the nail right on the head, finishing the sentence forming in your heart perfectly.

Putting words around an otherwise almost unexplainable thing. A fear. A worry. A dark shape in the back of your mind, with a murky voice to match its exteriors.

He’s describing exactly what you’re worried about.

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice stunned and eyes wide, “yeah, that’s, that’s it.” 

And Eddie’s eyes are nothing but gentle and understanding when he glances back over at you, but this time around, they don’t feel too kind, they just feel earnest.

“Well, in that case, let me tell you that I’d rather spend time with you, even when you’re in some dark mood, than not having your presence around me at all. You can show up in any state that you find yourself in, I promise, I can take it.

“When I said, I’m here to help, I really, truly, meant it. Taking care of one another is a fundamental part of friendships, and you're one of my closest ones, so please, let me at least try to help. Don’t push me out completely.” 

You sniffle again, searching your pockets for a tissue or something to wipe your nose with, but you come up completely empty. 

“The glove department.” Eddie suggests out of nowhere, and you can’t help but let out a tiny, timid laugh. 

There’s a small pack of kleenex hidden inside of it, and you gratefully take one.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and you hope that Eddie knows you’re not just talking about the paper tissue clenched in your hand.

“You’re very welcome.” Eddie answers with a small smile, and when your eyes meet, you know he understood the implications of your words, too.

“I’m sorry about distancing myself so much, and-“

“You don’t need to apologize for grieving, just let me at least try to catch up with you sometimes? Maybe don’t lock the door completely?”

“I’ll try.” You whisper. 

You promise. 

“And about Billy.” Eddie starts carefully, because there’s something that needs to be said, even if you don’t want to hear it.

“Do you really think Billy wants you to suffer for the rest of your life without him? I know you feel a lot of guilt about his death, but you’re punishing yourself in the cruelest of ways, by-“

“It’s not that I don’t want to be happy, Eddie.” You interrupt him quietly.

“It’s that I don’t deserve it. Not after everything that happened. Not after the way I’ve let him down. I have to make it up to him somehow-“

“And you think you’re making it up to him by, what, stop trying to live a happy life?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, because, truly, you don’t. “But it feels wrong to… to just move on without him.”

Eddie knows there isn’t anything he can say to convince you otherwise, and if he’s really honest, he kind of gets it. If he imagines losing you in such a way, he would struggle with an endless amount of guilt and an inability to move on from that, too. 

But what happened still isn’t your fault, yet you’ve put such a heavy burden on yourself, one that no human soul can possibly bear or carry. To his despair, Eddie doesn’t know how to make you take that off. How to find a space big and strong enough for you to put that, lay it down to rest.

“If it was Billy who survived,” Eddie tries, since he knows there’s no other way to reach you, “would you want him to suffer, too?”

“Of course not,” you huff, “but it wasn’t Billy who survived, now was it?”

There’s a bitterness in your voice as you cross your arms defensively over your chest, and Eddie feels you slipping away from him again, away, and into the steady silence and darkness of the car. 

He’s almost by your house now, and he feels the dire need to turn this around somehow.

“I get it,” he finally whispers, “If it was the person I loved, I would feel like this, too. But that doesn’t make it right, doesn’t make that narrative true. What happened wasn’t your fault, and punishing yourself like it is, isn’t going to add anything other than additional suffering on yourself. It’s not going to bring Billy back, and I very much doubt that he’d want that for you either.”

“But it’s not about what he wants, or you want, or I want!” You say, voice desperate and rising in volume.

“It’s about the fact that I don’t deserve to move on without him; besides, there’s nowhere to move on to anymore. There’s no way I should be happy when the better half of my heart is lying six feet underground in some cheap ass casket with a ribbon on it. 

“And I still wake up every night reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold. And every time the world comes back crashing down on me again, every. single. fucking. night. And I take it, because, maybe, that's simply what I deserve! He’s been through so much, and it’s all my fault!

“I keep seeing him in everything I do, yet it’s completely pointless because he isn’t there by my side anymore. And he never will be. I will never be able to hear his voice again, never be able to hear his laugh. Never feel the comfort of his presence ever again, because he died!

“He died saving a town he hated and yet nobody cares. And I can’t even leave this shithole of a place because I made a promise to him months before his death, that if anything ever happens to him, I would look out for his little sister! So I’m stuck here just like his fucking body is! 

“And how am I even supposed to move on, when all of my dreams, all of the plans I had for the future involved Billy in some way. He was the one constant in my life, the only constant in my life that truly mattered more than anything else in this world. Just for it now to feel like the light of my life, the sun I’ve been revolving everything around has gone out, and I’m left all alone, spinning out helplessly on a cold and dying planet. 

“It’s fucking hard to move on, when there’s nowhere to move on to, because I simply cannot imagine a future without Billy in it. And there’s no way to soothe the hurt, or to fill the emptiness that his absence has created, since there’s no way for me to get him back ever again!“

You’re full on crying now, and after having sobbed so much throughout the latter part of your admission, you didn’t even notice that Eddie already parked the car and unbuckled your seatbelt.

You only notice it once you’re done, all the words having left your mouth, energy completely drained, when suddenly two arms wrap themselves around you, lifting you up, over the center console - and into Eddie’s lap. 

You slump against him immediately, heavy sobs still wrecking your body, while your best friend, the one you shared your very first kiss in middle school with, the one who has seen you cry a thousand times before, quietly whispers soothing words to you. 

“Shh, just let it out. Let it all out, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You can let it all out, love.”

His touch, much like his words, feels incredibly comforting. His arms are wrapped securely around you, keeping you close, one hand brushing that tender spot at the back of your neck in soothing strokes.

He stays true to his words, takes all the vulnerability and hurt that flows out of you in cries and tears, witnesses you breaking down completely, yet he never falters in his mission to gently guide you through it all. 

Like a storm that you’re both trapped in. But his comfort, his presence, soothes the severity of the rain pouring down, lessens the strength of the howling wind, until the hurricane quiets down, and your cries, like clouds, start getting smaller. 

Letting go like this, crying unrestrained in his arms, feels not as hopeless and heavy as it usually does when you’re doing it all alone in the darkness and isolation of your bedroom. And suddenly, you feel compelled to admit something you’ve never told anybody.

“It’s my fault, Eddie. It’s all my fault.” You whisper, but Eddie brushes you off gently.

“Shh, no it isn’t, sweetheart. The only one responsible is the mindflayer, remember?” 

“No, Eddie, you don’t understand, I could have saved him, I could have-” 

Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. He doesn’t know the events that happened at Starcourt Mall that night to a T, since he wasn’t there during them, but he’s pretty sure that there’s hardly anything you could have done to save Billy. 

From the things he’s been told, you arrived there when it was already too late. When Billy already decided to stand up to that monster all by himself. 

You had just come back from the airport, fresh out of California, confused and incredibly concerned because Billy hadn’t responded to any of your calls while you were away. 

When you finally made it back to Hawkins, you found yourself rushing to the Mall, just to watch the love of your life fight a monster with his bare hands, trying his hardest to hold it back, to stop it, but to no avail.

And despite the fact that you ran up to him immediately, you still had to watch him get impaled and killed by that interdimensional monster. 

And by the time you made it to Billy’s side, the only thing you could do was to hold his dying body close in your arms, while he took his last, uneven breaths, and you whispered your final I love you’s.  

Weeks later, when Steve came over to pick up a few things to help ease his own nightmares, he told Eddie in secret that he doesn’t remember much from that night, but one of the things that had etched itself into his brain were your fierce cries.

He said he heard you scream Billy’s name that night so loudly, so full of utter desperation and horror, he was sure your cries could be heard all over the town of Hawkins.

But your horrors didn’t just end there that godless night at the mall. Because when help finally arrived, you refused to acknowledge the first aid responders, as they told you that Billy was dead and gone or good.

You refused to budge, refused to let Billy go, refused to watch him be put into some cold, plastic body bag. 

They needed four grown men in order to get you off and away from Billy’s body, and no matter how much they tried to calm you down, you still wouldn’t stop fighting back, not until someone finally infused you with some tranquilizer, but even while drifting into unconsciousness, you continued to whimper Billy’s name in quiet pleas.

That night, under a starless sky in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, you lost the love of your life, and you knew, you would never be the same again. 

There’s no such thing as recovery when you lose the most vital part, your heart, in such a gruesome way. 

But there’s another reason for the immense guilt you feel. 

The knowledge that you could have prevented it. 

And it’s time for you to share that part. 

You talk one last steading breath, hoping that your voice won’t sound as shaky as you feel.

“Before I went to Cali, to meet with that administrator from UCLA, we had initially decided that I would fly out there all by myself, but two days before my departure, Billy told me that he wanted to join in on the trip and come with me instead.” 

Eddie feels your frame trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shirt in an effort to hold on to something. 

“But I told him no.” You wail, sobs rumbling through you like thunder. Tears streaming down like hail. Each and every single one punching holes in Eddie's heart.

“I told him no; That that was silly, that I’d be fine on my own, and that I would be gone for hardly a week anyway. I told him that booking a flight so last minute would be way too expensive, and that we could use that money a lot more for our first rent payment, because, you know, we wanted to move into that small apartment right by the sea once uni starts-“ 

Eddie is stunned. He’s frozen. He doesn’t know what to do, because he had no idea.

Sure, he knew about yours and Billy’s plan to move to California once the summer break came to an end. But you have never, ever told him that story, and he doubts that you’ve shared it with anyone else either, judging by how hard it is for you to recall any of these details.

“Even when he dropped me off at the airport, he still joked about sneaking in and getting his own ticket at the desk. He said that there was still time, that I only had to say the words and we’d board that stupid plane together… but I didn’t.

"I just laughed and kissed him goodbye, and told him to stop being such a sap; that I would be back in no time, and in only a couple of weeks we would both soak in the Californian sun till the end of our days, and never have to hear the word Hawkins again.

"But if I had listened to him; if I’d taken him with me, he would still be around!”

Your voice, now utterly hoarse from crying, might haunt Eddie for a lifetime or two.

He’s at a loss of words, because what really is there to say? 

Of course, what happened isn’t your fault, you didn’t know. You couldn’t have predicted that this moment with Billy at the airport would end up being the last time you sincerely saw him smile, and yet, Eddie understands now, why Billy’s death feels even more like a burden on the tender shoulders of your soul. 

How you didn’t just lose the love of your life, but feel utterly responsible for it, too. 

“I could have saved him, I could have prevented his death, if I only had let him buy his stupid plane ticket.” 

The regret in your voice is almost palatable, dripping from your slumped frame like the tears from your eyes. 

“If I hadn’t said: No, Billy. Money’s tight, Billy. Being away from me for a few days won’t kill you, Billy... If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be here. ” 

Well, shit, Eddie thinks, hindsight really is one brutal tool. 

Are there any words, in this universe, that could take some of the burden off your shoulders? Something to ease your guilt and the blame you clearly feel? Eddie doesn’t think that there are.

All the words he thinks about saying just sound hollow and dull. 

He can repeat the phrase, this isn’t your fault, a million times; he’s sure you still wouldn’t believe him. 

But at the very least, he has to try. 

“I didn’t know,” Eddie whispers, wiping a few stray tears from your cheeks, “I didn’t know that that happened.” 

You sniffle, eyes darting everywhere, but the face of your close friend. 

“I’ve never-” 

You can’t even finish the sentence, and Eddie feels his heart do an incredibly uncomfortable twist, as he hears his assumption be called true.

You’ve been dragging that secret around like a dead horse; and that’s on top of all the other shit that’s been thrown your way. 

“Please don’t tell the others,” you whisper, and the desperation and worry in your voice is hard to miss. Like you almost expect Eddie to start blaming you, too.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell, I promise.” He pledges, “but what happened still isn’t your fault. I know, it’s probably impossible to change your mind right now, but it really wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. If you did, things might have gone differently, that’s true, but you didn’t know.

"You didn’t know that in your absence, Billy would find himself getting possessed and taken over by the Mind Flayer. You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no clue would happen.” 

Your sniffles have now quieted down to something that doesn’t feel like bullets through Eddie’s heart, but the way you curl up into him still tugs on something tender deep inside of him. 

It’s like you’ve turned shy all of a sudden, worried about what Eddie might think of you, now that you’ve shared that heavy secret. But Eddie doesn’t see you in a different light, and he’s determined to reassure you that, too.

“I really mean it, when I say that what happened to Billy isn’t your fault. Looking back at the past with the knowledge you have now, is always going to leave you wondering why you picked one choice rather than another.

"And you’ll drive yourself mad, if you judge all of your life’s choices that way. You didn’t know. And punishing yourself for a decision you made in nothing but good faith, wondering what could have happened if you didn’t, sweetheart, that’s just no way to live.”

Tentatively moving your face out of your hiding spot that’s Eddie’s neck, you look up at him with careful eyes.

“You think so?”

Eddie just nods his head with a deep hum.

“If you had taken Billy with you, you don’t know what could have happened. He could have died there, too, you know? And then you’d wish that you’d left him in Hawkins instead. It’s a vicious cycle of what was and what could have been,but, ultimately, we don’t know, and we never will. 

"All you did in that moment at the airport was make a sensible decision based on all of the information you had at that time. Judging it by anything else is doing a disservice to you and your intentions. You just tried to do good, to look out for you and Billy, with your shared future in mind.” 

“So, you don’t think I’m -“

Despicable, a murderer, a horrible person, responsible for Billy’s death, the voice in your head finishes.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers, knowing what you’re thinking without saying it, while wiping the last few tears from the apples of your cheeks. 

“And you’re not just telling me this because you are my friend?” You sniffle, voice and mind still a little unsure.

“I’m telling you this because it is true.” 

The sincerity and earnestness of Eddie’s words are hard to miss, hard to ignore, hard not to let seep into your heart at least a little bit. 

You stay intertwined like that for a while, until your breaths have evened out, and the last tears on your skin have dried down. 

They’re back in your eyes for a moment, when you notice the dark mascara stains you’ve left on Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, and something inside of you starts to panic, but your best friend is quick to shush you again, calming you down with gentle words. 

“It’s just a shirt, sweetheart. Just tears and mascara stains on a shirt, don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?” You mumble, and Eddie nods his head enthusiastically. 

“Nothing a washing machine can’t fix.” 

Still not completely convinced, you try to rub some of it away, but only with little success.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you decide to curl up into your friend a bit more, enjoying a closeness you haven’t experienced in a while. 

And Eddie lets you, not just because you clearly need it, but because he does, too.

He missed this, missed you, and despite your promise to try and be around more, he’s worried that by tomorrow, you will have receded back into your reclusive ways. 

Time moves through the space of the van in the form of the quiet music coming from the radio. Currently it’s some cheesy 70s ballad that neither of you pay too much attention to.

You’re both deep in thought, only grounded by the touch of the other. 

Eddie has a few more words sitting heavy on the tip of tongue, waiting for him to open his mouth and finally tumble out.

There’s no such thing as the right moment in a space like this, he thinks, and so, after another beat of slow moving music, flowing like syrup all around him, he whispers: “Do you trust me?”

If his words confuse you, or catch you by surprise, you don’t show. Instead, you just look up at him with honest eyes.

“Yes.” You whisper, and there’s not an ounce of a question stained in your voice, or written on your face. 

“Of course, I do.”

“Then please trust me when I say that there’s a future for you, even if you can’t quite see it yet. And you’re allowed to move towards it, even if it still seems gloomy, or unattainable right now. The things that happened that night at Starcourt Mall should have never happened, but none of it was your fault. None of it, okay?”

He’s holding your face in both of his hands now, cradling it gently, silently hoping, begging, crying to the gods above, that at least a fraction of what he’s said will take root in your heart. 

“Okay.” You whisper, overwhelmed by the deep sincerity in each and every single fragment of Eddie. His eyes, his voice, the gentle brush of his fingertips.

“Good.” 

He leans in, leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead, but before either of you can dwell on the meaning of that too much, a sudden noise of static cuts right through the moment, making the both of you jump. 

Catching you off guard and slightly startled. 

“What the-” Eddie mumbles while leaning forward to change the station, but the frown on his face only deepens when the radio won’t budge at all. 

“So much for a perfect radio reception, huh?” You can’t help the tiny dig, and Eddie scoffs, though there’s a small smile growing on his face. 

“I swear, this has never happened before.” 

“Uh-huh, and you don’t think that this might be explained by the fact that you usually never listen to the radio?” 

“You know, I might be inclined to believe your theory, if it was just the radio signal that’s going off, but the whole thing is acting strange. I can’t even-” 

In an attempt to demonstrate to you that he isn’t even able to change stations, Eddie forcefully turns the button- only for it to work perfectly this time.

But for some odd reason, all the other channels seem to consist of nothing but pure static, too. 

“Okay, that’s weird.” You whisper, trying to ignore the small chill that’s started to run down your back, as you realize how familiar this situation feels. 

You’re about to tell Eddie to just turn the radio completely off, when he finally finds a channel that is not just static upon static noise.

“Hah!” He exclaims, quite pleased with himself, though that sentiment turns out to be rather short-lived. 

“Still weird.” You mumble, while Eddie continues to toy with the volume button this time, and it makes you listen to the song more intently. 

It’s Take my breath away , of all things. Not quite the song you’d pick for a Friday night, sitting in your best friend's van, still perched upon his lap. 

“Through the hourglass, I saw you. 

In time, you slipped away.” 

Terri Nunn sings, and you’re about to ask Eddie if he can just turn this whole thing off, when the song, completely out of nowhere, starts to change its pitch. 

“Take my breath away,” rattles through the speakers, only now it resonates both slower and lower, kind of like a vinyl record being played at the wrong speed, giving the singer a much deeper voice.

The song suddenly sounds a lot more sinister and a lot less romantic, and though you don’t mind the latter, the way the song is now being played hardly counts as an improvement in your books.

“Uhm, Eddie, what exactly are you doing?” You question, as you watch your friend continue to tinker with the electronic device. 

“I don’t know.” He mumbles, voice slightly muffled because he’s bent over quite a bit, and you take shelter on his left knee in an effort to get out of the way a little more.

“Watching every motion in this foolish lover’s game. 

Haunted by the notion somewhere there’s a love in flames.” 

The distorted voice coming from the speakers promises, and you feel yourself grow rather uneasy, as the odd voice manages to sound more and more threatening. 

“Eddie, please turn this off.” 

“I’m trying, but the power button won’t work.” 

“Eddie, don’t fuck with me right now.” 

“I’m not, alright. I promise, I’m not.”

To prove his point, your best friend purposely pushes the on/off button a couple of times, but it simply continues to stay unresponsive. 

“See?” 

To your own horrors, you not only see the radio’s inability to shut itself off, you hear it, too. 

“Uh-huh, kind of hard not to notice, Eddie. This sounds like music straight from hell.”

“I honestly don’t think the music down there would be that bad.”

That comment deserves your friend a small punch in his side, which he retaliates in turn with a poke of his own, and for a moment the weird music is almost forgotten, until suddenly it turns itself completely off again.

“Fuck, about time.” Eddie exclaims, relief evident in his voice.

“Seems like even the broadcast from hell struggles with transmission difficulties sometimes.” You state dryly, although, you’d be lying if you said that whatever this just was, didn’t unnerve you, too.

“This seriously never happened before.” Eddie mumbles, eying his radio with two watchful eyes, like he doesn’t quite trust the silence yet. 

“Guess I can’t say the same thing.” You state with a small shrug, and when Eddie gives you a slightly confused look, you elaborate: “This is kind of exactly like the stuff plaguing the Camaro.”

“Your music gets that distorted?”  

“No, but anything except that seems quite familiar; the static, the unresponsiveness of the buttons, the radio just turning itself off like that.” 

“Geez.” Eddie summarizes, and you don’t think you could put it any better either.

“Well, in any case, I know now that the problem can’t just be the radio signal, but probably something a lot more technical. Maybe an issue with the speakers, too, if the sound comes out that weirdly.”

“Yeah, for a minute I thought we were in some kind of horror movie.” You joke with a timid laugh, and it’s only now as you begin to relax again that you notice how incredibly tightly you’ve been holding on to Eddie’s shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and the soft cushion of his flesh. 

After letting go quickly, your hand repeatedly strokes over that spot inconspicuously, like you’re trying to brush out a wrinkle you caused in a tablecloth without getting caught.

Like Eddie can’t still feel the cresent moons of your fingernails pushing into his skin.

“Quite honestly, a minute more of that racket, and I would have gone insane.” 

“Would have?”  You tease, and Eddie’s quick fingers are back at your sides. 

“Stop, stop!” You plead in between soft giggles, and Eddie thinks he would endure hell’s music for eternity, if it means he can listen to your earnest laughter one more time. 

Eddie’s fingers come to a rest soon after, and you lean into his frame once more, slightly out of breath from the tickle-induced laughing. 

“You’re not playing fair.” You huff, as soon as you have enough of your breath back to properly talk again, and Eddie just gives you a big grin. 

“Never said I was.” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s a half-hearted act, one that leaves you dodging Eddie’s fingers again.

“Well, I think I should get going now.” You state, after the ceasefire between tickling hands has reigned for a little bit longer, and it slowly dawns on you that you’ve spent a whole lot more time with Eddie than you’d initially planned. 

“Right, sure!” Eddie quickly fumbles with the door, trying to get it to open for you, without dropping you in the process. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then.” He states, as you reluctantly detach yourself from him, before hopping out of his car and catching your footing on the curb in front of your house.

“Yeah, a quarter to 10,” you remind him, “and don’t stress about the Camaro too much, especially now that you have two patients to look after, instead of just one.” 

Your eyes fixate on his car radio. 

“Guess whatever is going on is contagious now.” 

You initially meant it as a joke, but now that the words have left your mouth, you can’t help but feel like there’s a bitter aftertaste to them. 

“Eddie, whatever you do, please be careful, okay?” 

“Don’t worry, I usually know what I’m doing.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, I just know you, is all.”

This time, it’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Oh, and Eddie,” you quickly interject, suddenly feeling a little more shy, “thank you.” 

Your friend’s gaze immediately softens.

“Anytime.” 

“I… uh, I think I really needed this, so thank you for not giving up on me.” 

“I would never!” Eddie looks almost offended at the implication that you could even think such a thing.

“I know now, I guess. And, uh, thank you for the tape, too.” 

Waving the small item for emphasis, you hope Eddie truly catches how much the events of tonight matter to you. 

And you’d like to think, as your eyes meet his in parting, that he does. 

That he does understand how much all of this means to you. How much his efforts are appreciated. 

“Drive slowly!” You exclaim in a last farewell, “and I can’t wait to meet your carton of eggs tomorrow.” 

Eddie’s laugh echoes through the space of the night like warm rays of sunshine. 

“I’ll let them know how eagerly you’ve been waiting for an introduction.” 

“Please do. Good night, Eddie.” 

“Night, sweetheart.” 

One last wave and a shared smile later, and the van’s door closes with a dull thud. 

You watch Eddie drive off into the night, his taillights vanishing in the distance until they’re only a mere memory of two red eyes glowing in the empty space of your street. 

Turning around to walk the few steps through your yard and up the stairs to your entrance, you can’t help but notice that the many memories buried deep within your chest feel a little lighter, or maybe just a little less heavy. 

And by the time you make it through your front door, the profound dread you normally feel upon walking into your family home does not overcome you the way it usually does.

Once inside, you make your way into the kitchen immediately, getting some cold beverage before settling down in your bedroom. 

Like every night, you turn the TV on, letting it play as a background noise mindlessly, without paying much attention to it.

It’s another rerun of the movie Rumble Fish, and you honestly couldn’t care less about it, you just need some kind of distraction, some kind of stimuli, because anything is better than the haunting silence, especially in the portent hours between midnight and the rise of dawn. 

It’s not quite that late yet, but it most likely will be, by the time you feel exhausted enough to get at least some resemblance of sleep. 

Putting down Eddie’s tape on your bedside table, you decide to look for your cassette player, while the movie continues on lowly in the background. 

The TV also functions as your only light source, and its flickering lights illuminate the space of your bedroom before turning darker and then back into brightness again.

It’s an endless charade of light and dark against your bedroom walls.

As usual, the television alone isn’t enough of a distraction, and with a sigh, you decide to put on a record as well, to reallydrive the last remnants of your spinning thoughts out of your brain. 

Tonight, that honor falls in the hands of Patti Smith, and her powerful voice joins the hushed ones coming from the television. 

Moving through the space of your bedroom restlessly, you still try to find your walkman, but to no avail. 

You know you haven’t used it in a while, yet that doesn’t explain its apparent disappearance, and you feel angry tears start to fill your eyes. 

You just want to listen to that goddamn tape, and forget about the rest of the world for a little bit. 

After going through the items in your bookshelf one more time, you come to the realization that this current search-mission is a rather fruitless endeavor, and you might find yourself having more luck in the morning.

Defeated, and admittedly in a worse mood than you were before entering your bedroom, you flop down on your bed again, picking up Eddie’s tape and opening it up carefully. 

He’s written you a little note on the inside of the cover, underneath the, admittedly, rather small tracklist. 

I See You In Everyone  by Survivor  

x 5 times on Side A  

x 5 times on Side B  

Knock yourself out with this.  

 -  Eddie  

The tiny smile creeping up on your lips is impossible to call a halt to, and you really wish you could listen to the cassette now; if only you knew where your tape player currently resides. 

The song, that Eddie put on a tape as many times as it could possibly fit, is from the same album as the love song you and Billy used to call your own. And despite owning it as a vinyl in your rather extensive record collection, you don’t have the heart, or the strength, to listen to the complete album anymore. 

When Billy was still around, you used to listen to it all the time, obviously. 

But with I can’t hold back as the opening track on it, every song that followed would usually fade into the background quickly.

Especially with the amount of times you've made out with each other to said record, and by the time it was time to flip the vinyl over, you two were already in a completely different world, music and your surroundings completely forgotten. 

With that in mind, you never really listened that much to the B-side of the album. 

Until Billy’s death. 

Until in a desperate attempt to feel closer to him, a few days after his funeral, you decided to listen to it, the whole way through. 

A great mistake, as it turned out, because the onslaught of memories that came with everything in that moment; picking the record out, pulling it out of its covers, putting it on, and above all listening to it, felt like stabs straight through your heart, through yourself, through every fiber of your being, until you felt like a puddle of pure misery, tears, and despair, staining the soft carpet of your bedroom floor. 

But still, you pulled through, flipped the record over and listened to everything that that album had to offer.

And you cried the whole time, completely overcome by sadness and anger, until the very last song. 

I See You In Everyone.  

You don’t think you’ve ever listened to it before, or maybe you did, but you don’t remember. Either way, that afternoon, something about that tune struck a vital cord deep inside of you. 

And you wanted to listen to it again, over, and over, and over, until the vinyl would be completely worn out, or your record player broke, or the world got up in flames. 

The outside world, of course. 

Your world already did.

But unfortunately, you could hardly bear looking at that record, could hardly stomach touching it, or pulling it out of its designated space on your sideboard; let alone repeatedly engage in the whole process of actually putting it on and listening to it. 

You had to banish that vinyl from the space of your bedroom completely, each time you merely saw the cover of Vital Signs your heart would drop ten million feet below, shattering at the bottom of the earth and piercing every part of your soul.

That night, after having listened to the record completely, maybe for the first time ever, you got out of your mind drunk, kicking stones into the abyss of the quarry, until Eddie found you and- 

Well, the exact details hardly matter now, and it’s not like you remember much from it anyway. That night, like most of the nights following the first few weeks after Billy’s death, are nothing but a blur to you. 

But you do recall telling Eddie how there’s this song on your favorite Survivor record. That one record that’s cursed as your least favorite now, because it sparks nothing but painful memories, like lightning in the sky. 

Except for that one song, that one song.

That one song you want to listen to until your world doesn’t feel like it’s burning anymore. 

Until your heart stops hurting, until you wake up one morning without feeling like there’s a massive hole in the middle of your chest.

And Eddie, attentive as ever, somehow remembered. 

And now, here you are, with the song you’ve been craving for a whole long while, right there at the tips of your fingers, but with no real way to listen to it. 

You know that crying over something like this is a bit silly, but you’ve cried over smaller things before, and this right now feels rather big on your side of the universe. 

“Goddamn it!” You whisper, irritated by both, the tears in your eyes, and your inability to find that walkman. 

You stare at your ceiling for a little bit, almost ready to call it a night, when suddenly, out of your peripheral vision, you see something light up.

It’s only brief, only for a short moment of time, and you brush it off as a trick of the light coming from the TV at first, before it happens again. 

And again. 

And again once more. 

And by the fourth time, you finally lift your head. 

It’s the small night light on your dresser that’s lighting up, and then goes off again, lights up and then goes off again. 

“What the fuck?” You whisper confused, especially since you’re beyond certain that you didn’t even turn it on in the first place. 

You simply stare at it for a little while, watching the slow rhythm of the light flickering on and then off again. 

On and then off. 

After having seen enough of this odd routine, you decidedly get up, making your way over to the weirdly behaving culprit. 

The night light is a simple lamp in the shape of a small, plastic surfboard that lights up from within, giving its surroundings a warm, orange glow. 

It used to be a gift from Billy, something he’s gotten you without any special occasion, just because he thought it might look cute in your room, and maybe, as a small thing to remember him by. 

“So, when you wake up in the middle of the night without me by your side, you can still think of me, and remember that I’m always yours, even when we’re miles apart.”  He had told you with an uncharacteristically shy gaze, and your heart beamed with the luminosity of a thousand suns. 

You had wanted to get him a night light, too, initially. Thinking there was something deeply romantic about the small gesture of sharing matching night lights with each other while being apart.

Separated physically, but united in spirit, thinking of the other in your dark bedrooms, the small night lights a whisper of the other’s name.

In practice, that turned out to be a whole lot more difficult, mostly thanks to Billy’s dad. 

There simply was no way that such a thing would survive even a single night in Billy’s room without harm, and it wasn’t really worth the risk either, to be honest.

You didn’t want to give Neil any more reasons to mistreat and discipline his son, than he already had. 

So instead, you got Billy a little figurine that looked a lot like his Camaro. It wasn’t completely right, but still close enough, and you even took the time to paint two little faces on the windows of each side. 

A small iteration of Billy on the driver’s side, and you on the passenger seat. 

In reality, it looked a lot like two stick figures with bad hairstyles, and Billy started crying with laughter upon seeing them. His hearty hyena laugh echoing through your room for what felt like hours before he would calm down.

“I love it,” he said, voice rough from his unrestrained glee, wiping a few tears away. 

“You look like something out of an alien movie, trying to disguise itself as human, and I look like a possessed doll, but at least you got my angles right.”

And Billy threw his head back laughing again, curls flying everywhere as he shook his head in nothing but pure joy. 

“No, no, wait, I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I look like if Robert Plant and the smiley face from the goodwill logo had a baby!”

And then he was back to laughing his ass off again, amusement in every heaving breath leaving his lips, and you couldn’t help but join in on his laughter, too. 

“I’m never painting you something again.” You huffed, once you’d both calmed down enough, and though you tried hard to sound annoyed, you failed miserably. 

“Oh, no, Baby, please do! Please paint me things all the time now!” Billy exclaimed with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know about your talents! Tell me, who was your teacher? A five year old?”

“Asshole!” You'd grumbled, but you couldn’t keep a smile from spreading on your face. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry.” Billy immediately backtracked, not having seen your amused facial expression yet, and thinking you were earnestly hurt by his jab. 

He quickly rolled over on the bed to see you properly, caging you in between himself and the mattress, before cupping your face gently.

“I love it, okay? It’s a great gift! It kind of looks like Picasso threw up all over it, but I love it and-“

“Oh, shut up!” 

His comments had you laughing again, and you slapped his shoulder playfully while Billy gave you an earnest smile. 

“I really love it, it’s perfect.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“This is going to be us one day,” you whispered, “just us, leaving this shithole town and never looking back.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And where are we going?” Billy murmured, face inching closer to yours, until the very tips of your noses touched.

“Wherever you want to go,” you whispered, “wherever you want to go, Billy, I’ll follow.” 

“You promise?”

Billy’s voice suddenly sounded more vulnerable, like it was thick with emotions, or tears, or disbelief, or maybe a jumbled mix of it all.

“Cross my heart.” You murmured, fingers tracing a X upon your chest. 

“I’ll always be by your side, Billy, and that little car is supposed to be a reminder for you.”

There had been tears swimming in Billy’s eyes when you pulled him close for a deep kiss, and by the time your lips met, there were tears in your eyes, too. 

From that day on, Billy left that toylike figurine sitting on his bedside table, at a spot where it would always be illuminated by the soft glow from one of the street lamps outside at night.

It almost looked like it was glowing a little itself, and each time Billy woke up from a nightmarish dream, his eyes would find the small object, and he knew that he was going to get out of all of this, one day.

One day, you and him would leave everything behind and start over some place else.

And his heart longed for that moment, where he could walk out of his father’s house and never ever come back again.

So, that’s how you and Billy gifted each other a tiny copy of the Camaro, and a glowing, plastic surfboard.  

A surfboard that’s now flickering away on your dresser, and you can feel your heart sink a little at the sight.

“Oh, please don’t die on me, too.” You whisper, worried that the present that reminds you so much of your boyfriend decided to fritz out at the worst possible time.

It only takes you a couple of steps from where you’re currently sitting on the bed to get to the item in question, a deep frown settling upon your face. 

And that expression only deepens, once you notice that the lamp’s switch is still securely placed in its off position. 

“What-” you mumble quietly, as unease begins to settle in your stomach more and more, “how’s that even possible?” 

The flickering of the light increases its speed.

On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. 

“Okay, t-that’s enough.” Your voice comes out with a little tremor, but how could it not? 

There have been weird things happening in your bedroom before; sometimes, lights will flicker. Sometimes, your TV will suddenly turn to static, seemingly out of nowhere; but none of that ever bothers you too much, because it can all be explained away with the easy excuse of old wiring, or the growing age of your devices. 

Take your record player for example. A loyal thing gifted to you by your mother on your 14th birthday, but only a few weeks ago it started to act up, skipping and looping perfectly good vinyls for no apparent reason with increased frequency. It has to be its growing age, you’re sure of that. 

Maybe, it’s simply getting a bit too old and tired of spinning records all the time. And you can’t really blame it. You’ve been planning to take it to RadioShack for a while, to get it checked out and hopefully fixed, but it’s not something that concerns you too much, either.

So, when your night light starts to flicker in your room, it’s not like you’ve never seen such a thing before, but usually, the device is at the very least turned on.  

This, however, cannot be said for the little surfboard right now. It’s definitely switched off, and yet, every two seconds, it lights up the space of your dresser in a bright, orange hue. 

Your first attempt to make it stop is to simply turn the lamp on and then off again. Unfortunately, it doesn’t budge in the slightest, and the memory of your and Eddie’s car radios doing something oddly familiar creeps its way into your mind. 

You feel your heartbeat quickening, as a  growing anxiety rushes through you, this should not be possible, you think, and yet, here you are bearing witness to it. 

With trembling fingers, you try switching it off one last time, but after being unsuccessful again, you can’t help but take a few shaky steps back. 

“Okay,” you whisper, trying hard not to freak out completely, “okay, okay, okay, okay.” 

There’s one more thing that you could try.

One more chance to make it stop.  

Whatever it even is. 

You quickly approach the dresser again, this time kneeling down next to its side, hand stretching out in an effort to reach into the space behind it.

There’s cobwebs, and dust, and hardly any room, and your fingers keep touching things you’d rather not think about, before you feel the outline of your outlet merging together with the plug. 

It’s a tight fit, the space between your furniture and wall being rather narrow, and trying to pull the plug from its socket without scratching up your hands is not an easy task, but somehow, after some rounds of trial and error, you manage to finally set it free. 

There’s a small clicking sound, and then, unceremoniously, the lamp turns completely off. 

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale, resting your head gently against your wooden dresser, trying to take a few steading breaths. 

“That was…” You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. 

Spooky? Unexpected? Quite something?  

Retreading your hand from the space between turns out to go a lot quicker and smoother than getting it there, and you shake it a few times with slight disgust, convinced that you can still feel faint traces of cobwebs haunting it.

With a heavy sigh, you take a look through your room, but everything else seems just the same.

Like nothing weird happened at all.

Your TV keeps playing in the background, and your Patti Smith record is still spinning.

And your pulse is slowly coming down to healthy level again.

You’re about to get up and back into bed, hoping to forget whatever just happened, when something small and rectangular lying underneath your dresser catches your eye. 

Your breath hitches once you realize what you’re looking at, and your heart might actually be doing a tiny flip.

There, behind one leg of your wooden dresser, hides your missing walkman. 

“No way,” you mumble, confused and slightly stunned. 

“How the hell did you get here?” You question, though you don’t expect the inanimate object to actually answer that.

You don’t remember any event that might explain why your tape player currently resides in such an odd place, but you also don’t really have the energy, or brain power, to question the whole thing, either. 

You just want to cuddle up in bed and forget a good portion of this night. Block out the weird behavior of your lamp and its meaning; at the very least for a few hours.

You’re still trying to convince yourself that this was probably just a faulty cable, or maybe, a defect wiring connected to the switch, or something.

You can overthink these details in the morning, though, because right now, your fingers really itch to finally, finally listen to that tape.

To have its melody soothe a part of your soul that you otherwise can’t touch, can’t reach. 

Putting your headphones on securely, and pushing the play button with still slightly shaky fingers, you feel yourself exhale slowly as the opening notes of the song begin. 

You stare at the ceiling for a bit, as you let the music wash over you.

The glow from the TV draws flickering shapes on some parts of the space surrounding you, before withdrawing again, like waves.

It’s a hypnotizing spectacle, and you watch it for a while, trying not to think of the many Californian beaches you’ll have to visit all on your own.

By now, the moon has traveled enough across the horizon, to finally find its way in front of your bedroom window, painting your desk and the edge of your bed in a milky hue. 

“Listening for your footsteps in every hallway 

Watching for your headlights around the bend 

I can see you standing in every doorway. 

Out in the street, in every glance  

I see your reflection, I fall in a trance  

Can't you see what I've become  

It's making me crazy  

I see you in everyone!” 

The song continues, as you long for Billy in ways that can’t be put into words. 

For a moment, you decide to sit up again, turning around to face the window, looking up at the midnight blue canvas high above, hoping to find some comfort in it.

The waxing moon, a lonely companion in a cloudless sky, seems to glance down on you with a benevolent gaze, as you wipe a stray tear away. 

“I miss you, Billy.” You whisper into the endless sea of midnight sky. 

“I miss you so much. There’s not a single day where I don’t wish you near, where I don’t long for you to come back and hug me close.” 

You continue to stare up at the moon with teary eyes while your favorite part of the song begins, and a small sob leaves your lips. 

“Day by day, I watch the memories slip away  

And traces of reality come back to me  

Then I see your face, somewhere in a distant place  

The fantasy has gone too far -  

I close my eyes and there you are. 

I can see you standing in every doorway 

I can feel your heartbeat -- I hear your voice 

And hiding in my shadow you're with me always. ”

“I just wish you would come back.” You whisper, “I just really wish you would come back somehow.”

With your eyes still transfixed on the moon, and the volume of your walkman turned up to its maximum, you don’t notice the sudden picture of static flickering over the TV screen behind you, disturbing the current scene of Rumble Fish, before turning back to its normal broadcast again. 

Only this time in the movie, when Rusty James begs his brother to engage with him, to pay attention to him, his voice comes out distorted.

“Look at me, I just want you to see me, man.” The young man on the TV screen urges, voice slipping into something different, “I’m right here. I'm right here. I want you to see me-” 

The screen flickers again, as the scene loops back to its beginning. 

“Look at me… I’m right here, I’m right here.”  A different voice says. 

Billy’s voice. 

Ahhh! And that’s it for the first chapter! If you’ve made it this far, thank you!! I know this part was quite Eddie/Reader heavy, but I promise Billy will start to make a lot more appearances (one way or another), too, and Eddie will have to take a backseat then.

I’m not sure when I’ll have the next part for this finished. Considering that I have a few more series and works in the drafts, it will probably take a little bit.

Like I’ve already said, I’ve decided to start a taglist so if you want to be tagged in the next chapter just let me know or fill out this form here <3

Also, before anyone decides to come for me because of my inaccurate music choices. I know that 'Take My Breath Away' was initially released in ’86 rather than ’85, but with a little suspense of belief I hope we can all overlook that tiny flaw. Thank you!

[our-reb00t-boi]

What would happen if Astarion met the reboot twins? 😍😁😂

Hello!! Apologies, late reply but this is interesting!

Idk much of Baldur's Gay--- I mean Baldur's Gate but all the ones I saw are from people shipping and

All I "know" of the game is it's a AAA high fantasy dating simulator adventure game.

And all I know about Astarion is that he's a more flowery flamboyant version of V from dmc 5 in terms of being a fanged flowery goth man

Sorry V no hard feelings

You guys can correct me about the game. I don't have this🙏😂

Astarion to Dante:

I think at 1st they won't go well together, as friends or as dates. I think the differences in how they approach people is a river that the other may not be able to cross.

I think Dante finds Astarion's flamboyant nature to be annoying but he quietly just deals with it. He also observes a lot and may find Astarion suspicious.

Astarion is a cunning man and Dante can smell that from a mile away. He has trust issues and the 2 of them would've likely tried to attack the other, if Dante was the one who makes a spicy rebuttal or if Astarion was tricking or gaslighting Dante (to bite his skin lmaoo)

The only way they'd probably bond over something is a mutual agreement on revenge. And also something at least utilitarian/useful to benefit one another besides a shared goal.

Another thing that could make them get together in a more intimate level is that Astarion can acknowledge Dante's sexuality. Anyone reading this can interpret this anyway they can. But I believe both Astarion and Dante are hedonistic, and physical desires are itches they want scratching. And Astarion could possibly do something about that young sex drive Dante has. And I think Dante's not off about how anything goes, if the both of them play their cards right. Or with lots of pizza and booze.

Astarion to Vergil:

This one gets complicated, or specifically their particular psychological traits (and issues) are gonna come into play with these 2.

I think at first everything looks smooth at first glance. They have a mutual understanding of one another and respect one another. You almost don't hear anything bad about how the other thinks on the other. They're both very classy people, they're into playing with semantics and probably acknowledge the other for their tastes.

But even them being acquaintance is very surface level. Vergil behind the scenes is secretly working on making background checks about Astarion, his life, his former relationships, his stats, etc. Vergil is careful about him, but he doesn't show how he's skeptical about this elf-vampire.

Astarion on the other hand has always been dry about their mutual-ness, if that's a word. He's entertained by this young genius with high standards and he gets a kick out of trying to break Vergil's cool sometimes, especially if Astarion can try to go skin deep (or literally try to sink his fangs)

I think their bond is going to be very complicated. Astarion knows Vergil's type: he has a keenness for control and not wanting to submit to anything. And Vergil knows that Astarion is the type who will do something unpredictable when backed against the corner.

Perhaps Astarion can roleplay around and make Vergil feel like the boss of him as a one time only thing, if you catch my drift. Vergil, on the other hand, doesn't mind playing and learning some secret tricks so long as Vergil is getting some benefits. But after that, they're relationship remains in this ice-cold social game of chess, where they appear like everything is hunky dory.

[tenleaguesbeneath]

some musings toward hacking together a system to run my home games

combat engine wise, I'm drawn to either one-roll (well, maybe more like one+each rolls, where you roll once to determine the outcome of the whole combat and then each player rolls to determine personal consequences) or a puzzle combat system where rather than the enemy's defenses adding up to give it an armor class that you roll against, each one is a real thing.

Like, for instance, a knight in articulated plate with a zweihander would have a reach advantage (explicitly: you can't get close enough to use your weapons against him because he'll cut you up and push you back) and the armor protects all areas except for gaps too small to be practical to hit while he's up and moving, especially at range, and those are real in the game system. Rather than AC just he no-sells your attacks until you figure out a way to negate those advantages.

At the same time I want something more concrete and real than PbtA stuff does. I like the illusion that the narrative isn't just the GM and players saying stuff, that there's something concrete under it that the rules govern, that successes and failures are the result of interactions with the world and the mechanics rather than something the GM hands out. I like strings though, strings are good. I'm particularly thinking about thydungeonguy's recent posts about systems where the different parts (social interaction and combat) all play in to each other, with a shared metacurrency between combat and non-combat encounters.

I've had a little experience with Torchbearer and there's a lot I'd borrow from it and a lot I wouldn't. I like the grind. Honestly I'd want to take some of the emphasis away from the Conflict engine it has (in particular how you can basically never get enough Checks to rest properly without conflicts); just making plain dungeon crawling arduous is good. But I think I'd still want an OSR-style turn system over Torchbearer's.

Explicitly tracking characters' emotional states (like Torchbearer does, with Angry and Afraid as status conditions) is good.

I'm especially thinking of this in conjunction with psionics, and in particular this twitter thread about psionic archetypes and how D&D gets them wrong. Since I'm lately playing sci-fi psionic stuff that's on my mind.

I want some degree of random character generation, though stars without number's thing of making that optional but then giving an expectation value somewhat higher than opting out (three rolls vs two picks for background skills, or the raise option if you roll stats 3d6 in order). Not sure how much compatibility with D&D I want; that'd be a nice-to-have though. Honestly, what I like from random character generation is having a process to go through to meet your character, rather than just creating someone tailor-made, and don't like characters who are entirely optimized around doing one thing well. The random boons after you pick your class in On A Red World Alone are good, although I like the option for a random class which that system doesn't have.

Likewise, I want progression to be a mix of organic and player-guided. I don't want you to plot out a build from first to max level and have all that set in stone before play begins. At the same time there is something appealing about being able to quickly generate NPCs with just class and level. Tough needle to thread. I'm not sure I even like classes for anything else. but also adventuring gets you seriously injured and you may have to retire due to that.

I also don't want high-level characters to be godlike and I don't even necessarily want them to be rich. Being the best there is at what you do but having whatever wealth you gain go as quickly as you get it is a staple story.

[wwinterwitch]

training session – loki

summary: after odin assigned you the task of training with loki, you discover a new side of the god of mischief pairing: loki x fem!valkyrie!reader word count: 5.1k warnings/what to expect: SMUT +18 (MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!loki, teasing, making out, dry humping, oral (f receiving), pet names, very light mention of choking, hair pulling, praise, humiliation, riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!) author's note: first loki fic i've ever written i'm just so excited to share this with y'all i hope you like it!!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | read on ao3

Loki thought it was insulting the way his father suggested he needed more training. That he's relying on magic too much and that'll somehow make him forget the basics of combat.

Evidently, he thought it was pure nonsense. He won't forget how to combat if he uses his powers. Besides, shouldn't he take advantage of his abilities if he has the chance to use them? It's just ridiculous.

Oh, but that's not all. Because this is exactly what Loki means when he says he's Odin's least favorite. His father doesn't seem to care in the slightest that this is quite literally (in Loki's sometimes-a-little-too-dramatic mind) dooming him to a fate worse than being trapped in Helheim for the rest of his days. It was upsetting to hear his father doubt his skills, but what's even more insulting is that you are his designated teacher to help improve what in his mind needs no improvement at all.

The dislike you and Loki have for one another is no secret to people around you. Ever since you befriended Thor back when all of you were kids, he has despised you for reasons completely unknown to you. And even after all this time he still has a particular disgust towards you. At first you really tried to be his friend, but eventually stopped trying. By the time you two were teenagers, you started to stand up for yourself rather than trying to ignore him or stay quiet, which inevitably made things worse between you.

Your enmity persisted over the years, him trying to ruin your life with his silly jokes and you beating his ass when you found out he was behind it all. You can still vividly remember that time he almost ruined your chances to finally become a Valkyrie (something Loki knew was your lifetime dream) and the satisfaction you felt after punching him right in the nose before telling him he failed.

He should be appreciative. It's not like most people can say they've received combat training from a Valkyrie, yet he didn't seem to think that's anything special. It's just humiliating. He doesn't need training, especially from you.

"This is a waste of time," he said right before starting your training, flashing one of his usual charming smiles that never fails to get him what he wants.

"Let's see what you can do and then I'll decide if we're wasting our time," you quickly replied, an ironic smile adorning your face.

He didn't like you. Not one bit. He dislikes the way you just smiled at him, your condescending tone, the way you're standing as you wait for him to try to do something that would count as training. You act like you know everything and he hates it.

And after the way you're behaving, why bother with being gentle? It was as if his disgust for the way you continue to grin and behave as if you're better than him completely blinded him, making him forget he's about to fight with a skilled warrior. There's nothing you can do better than this.

It was evident you'd skillfully dodge his attacks with the sword he was holding, managing to distract him shortly after to lightly tap one side of his body with your weapon, indicating that if this was a real fight he'd already be dead.

"Doesn't look like a waste of time to me," you remark jokingly.

He tried very hard not to roll his eyes. "That was pure luck."

"Want to go at it again, my prince?"

Loki didn't reply, taking a few steps back from you, holding his weapon tightly, silently counting the seconds until his next attack.

Eventually, he launched forward and you once again dodged it, but before you could tap his side again he continued his attack. You kept defending yourself with ease, but were unable to attack just yet.

To make him think he was doing a good job, you let your guard down so he could get rid of your sword, the weapon quickly falling to the ground. Loki smirked, slowly putting down his own as he looked as if he just won the biggest fight of his life. It wasn't just a physical combat anymore, not to him at least. This is about proving his power, his honor, how he doesn't need this stupid training.

But his victory didn't last very long since you were able to grab the sword and take it out of his hand, aiming it at him. The look on his face almost made you laugh out loud.

"Looks like you do have a lot to learn."

Loki barely cared to flash an ironic smile your way before taking two daggers out to continue the fight. You stood in front of him, sword in hand, challenging him to do anything.

He was about to launch forward when you pushed him back, making him lose balance and giving you the perfect opportunity to tackle him to the ground, immediately straddling him to keep him on the ground. The daggers fell to the ground next to you, and so did the sword a few seconds later when you dropped it.

You looked down at Loki with yet another sarcastic grin. "There it is. You concentrate so much on the attack, you don't care about the defense. Looks like we're not wasting time after all."

"I don't need someone to teach me that."

"Sure you don't," you muttered. "Look. With all due respect, my prince, I'm not particularly enjoying my time here with you either."

"Oh?" he says. "I'm sorry, am I the one who's insisting on having these training sessions? As if there's actually something that you could teach me."

You continued to straddle his lap, thinking to yourself all the things you could say back to start an argument that could go on for hours. However, you decided to be professional just this one time.

Instead, you lean down so your face could be closer to him in a threat-like manner. Loki's smirk completely disappears as you did. It was impossibly rewarding seeing even the slightest hint of him being intimidated by you, especially when he's underneath you on the ground.

He attempted to set himself free, immediately staying still when he felt the slight wiggle of his hips inevitably made him grind against you. You tried to act unfazed by it, even though you can't deny you very much felt the movement of his hips, his lower stomach brushing against you.

Trying to ignore it entirely, you finally spoke. "The Allfather asked for me to help you. I'm just doing this because I couldn't say no to him."

Loki smirks after your last words. "I thought Valkyries were tougher than that."

"Clearly, I am. That's why you're on the ground right now."

"Like I said, it's pure luck. I'm still waiting to see something actually impressive from you," he insisted.

"I could say the same thing. I'm not the one who just got defeated twice."

"Yeah, but I'm not part of Odin's shield-maidens. Aren't you supposed to be the best warriors out there?"

You scoffed. "I could stop going easy on you if that's what you so desperately want. I'm pretty sure you won't be able to handle it, though."

"Try me," he offered.

"Fine."

You were about to stand up when you felt his arm wrapping around you, keeping you in place. "No," he mutters, a swift movement of his hand directed towards the door as the sound of a lock makes you understand he has used magic to lock the doors of the room you were in. "Show me."

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Is Loki really hinting at what you think he's hinting? Did he really just locked you both in this room and is currently expecting you to do something about his proposition now?

And what was even worse about the situation is that you weren't exactly repulsed by the idea. You couldn't deny he's very attractive despite being extremely annoying. Besides, having him underneath you and having entire control of the situation does make you feel good, better than you would ever want to admit. Both things combined certainly sparked your interest.

The thought of the two of you doing a lot more than training almost made you want to grind your hips against him before he opened his mouth again.

"Unless you're not up for the challenge?" he added, his characteristic smirk never fading. "I understand if it's a little too much for you."

"Shut up already," you say in annoyance, leaning back down so you could make sure he stays quiet by kissing him.

Kissing Loki felt explosive, thrilling, exciting. Like something you never thought you'd ever do, and it actually feels a little odd at first because of it. But he's such a good kisser that you quickly forget all about it.

The way one of his hands immediately tangled in your hair while the other rested on your hip only encouraged you to deepen the kiss. You were pleasantly surprised when you heard him humming against your lips when your tongue made its way inside his mouth.

Maybe by mere instinct, he used his hand still holding you to push your hips further back, needing you to be on top of his bulge as you two continued to make out. Of course you wouldn't complain about his insistence, adjusting yourself on top of him.

Both of you express how good that slight change in your position felt. You did it by softly moaning against his mouth while he moved both of his hands to your ass, immediately wanting you to start grinding on him. He was certainly needy.

Even when you are more than okay with his actions, you had to pull away from him just enough to give him a warning. You couldn't help but notice his entire expression has changed, no longer looking at you like he's ready to argue with you about anything you had to say. Instead, his eyes were soft and his mouth was slightly agape, looking up at you almost as if he wanted to protest because you're not kissing him anymore. Like a spoiled little kid who just got told he can't play with his favorite toy anymore.

Quickly, you took both of his hands to move them away from your body, grabbing both of his wrists to put his arms above his head, using one of your hands to keep them in place. You heard the faintest and quietest sound coming out of his lips, but you could easily tell he absolutely adored the gesture.

"Enough of that now," you say. You very much enjoyed him wanting to guide your hips, but it's you who should be in control right now. "You let me do the work, okay? Can you stay still for me?"

Loki nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course. Just– can you move already?"

Just to tease him, you gently rock your hips up and down. His reaction was just the best sight you've ever witnessed. How he closed his eyes and let out a soft grunt he was holding back. Soon enough, his eyes snapped back open when you stopped. "Now, that's not how you ask for things. Am I supposed to teach you some manners too?"

As if things couldn't get any better, you noticed his cheeks turning a light shade of pink after your words, and you could also feel his cock hardening even more underneath you.

"Please move," he says with obvious embarrassment.

"That's better."

With that out of the way, you leaned in to continue kissing him while you finally started grinding on him. The feeling of moving up and down his length, even with clothes standing in the way, was only encouraging to move faster. Still, you didn't want to rush things, so you tried your best to rock your hips in long, painfully slow motions for as much time as you could.

Your hand that wasn't holding his above his head moved over to his neck, applying just enough pressure. He seemed to also appreciate that a lot.

The kiss was broken again as both of you needed air. Loki looked so good under you, eyes dark with desire and lips swollen from making out. You could see the desperation in his features because you were still moving way too slow for his liking.

"Please," was all he said, frustration evident in his voice.

"What is it?"

"Can't you move any faster?" he snapped before realizing he probably shouldn't use that tone. "I'm sorry, can you please move faster?"

The fact that he was trying his best to keep it together and obey your previous instructions was almost too much to handle. If all you needed to get him to stop being an asshole was fucking him, you would've tried that a long time ago.

"Well, you did ask nicely," you point out, to which Loki immediately nodded in agreement. He looked so...pathetic trying to get what he wanted. Deep down you were enjoying this a little too much.

Your movements gradually increased in speed, which forced more moans and grunts out of both of you. Loki's hips matched your movements and you let him have that little satisfaction because it just made everything feel a thousand times better.

Your hand left his neck so you could kiss his skin instead. He titled his head to give you all the space you needed, and you heard his loudest moan yet when he felt you sucking on a particular soft spot just below his ear. Will you try to leave a mark just so he can see it later? Absolutely.

"I wonder what else I can do with you," you whisper after leaving a nice purple mark on his neck. "I have a few ideas. I'm sure you'd love each and every one of them."

Loki turns to look at you, completely at your mercy. "I'd like to be able to touch you, if that's okay," he says, hinting at his hands still restricted. He could easily get rid of your grip if he wanted to, but the thought of getting your permission seems to be far more important to him.

"Don't worry, you can do a lot more than that."

You give him a short kiss, smirking when you realize he wanted to lean in closer to kiss you for longer, but you didn't let him. Instead, you move away from him to stand up, unable to keep your eyes away from his erection. You haven't seen him properly, but he definitely looks as big as he felt.

Loki quickly accepts your hand to help him stand up. Despite him being considerably taller than you, he felt insignificant next to you. Not moving without your permission, speaking only when you expect a reply, following your every move.

He has silently renounced even the tiniest amount of control and gave it to you instead.

You guide him to one side of the room where there was a couch big enough to fit both of you. It'll be a lot more comfortable than staying on the floor. Before doing anything else, you wanted to hear confirmation of your power over him one more time.

"You'll do whatever I tell you, right?" you ask, gently caressing his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding his. He practically melted under your touch, nodding. "Manners, Loki."

"Yes," he quickly says. "Yes, anything you want."

The smirk on your face grew after his confirmation. "Good," you give him, and that simple word was enough to get him all excited like a little puppy. "Oh, does the prince enjoy being praised?" you asked teasingly while you let go of his hand, only to start getting rid of his cape and the upper part of his outfit.

He was quiet for a second as he let you undress him. "Yes..." he timidly confessed. It was still amazing to see the God of Mischief acting so shy and submissive with you.

"But you also like it when I'm mean to you," you say more like a statement than a question this time, getting rid of his clothes except for his pants and boots. "That's why you're always looking to start a fight with me," you insist, gently tracing the muscles of his arms with your fingers. "You just love it when I put you in your place."

"Like you don't enjoy it too," his usual self shines through for a second, though his eyes remain as soft as ever.

"This isn't about me," you quickly warned, taking a seat on the couch. "We better keep you quiet before you get too comfortable and decide to open your mouth again," you added shortly after, quickly pointing at the floor in front of you. "Kneel."

He looked taken aback at first, knowing you were clearly making fun of him. The smile on your face made that very clear. "What?"

"You heard me. Kneel." His cheeks were burning red at this point, but he still got on his knees in front of you shortly after you spoke. "Good boy," you let out as soon as he obeys, pulling him in for yet another kiss.

He gladly accepts your kiss, both of his hands resting on each of your thighs. You capture his lower lip with your teeth before you pull away entirely, making him squeeze the flesh of your upper legs in response.

"How about we put your mouth to good use, darling?" you offered, and he immediately looked like he just won the biggest prize.

Loki noticed you were about to stand up to take your clothes off, but he quickly stopped you. "If I may?" he asks, and you comply by staying seated.

A gasp left your mouth when he made all your clothes disappear with the snap of his fingers, sitting completely naked before him from one second to another. "That should be considered cheating."

"I prefer to think of it as a way to optimize our time together," he smiles, and despite wanting to argue you simply let it be. "You can't blame me for it," Loki quickly adds, gently pulling your legs apart, looking up at you to examine your face. He wouldn't want to do anything that you don't approve of. "I've been hoping for this moment to come from a very long time," he added, his fingers caressing your inner thigh.

You were undeniably surprised to hear that, considering he was supposed to hate you before this. "Oh, so you've thought about me naked?"

"Maybe," was all he offered, but the answer was obvious. "Don't let that get to your head."

"Of course it will," you replied. You were enjoying that little back and forth so much that you almost forgot you shouldn't entertain him. "Are you going to keep talking or you're going to finally fulfill your little fantasies about me?"

"I wouldn't call them–"

"Oh, just shut up already," you cut him off, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you pull him close to you once again.

He's gladly surprised by your roughness, enjoying every second of it. Maybe that's exactly what he wanted to achieve by talking back so much. He kissed you for a few more seconds before he pulled away and started to move further down your body.

You're sitting at the edge of the couch by the time he's further opening your legs, looking up at you one more time before he immediately gets down to it.

He was more than satisfied with the moan that you let out as soon as his mouth made contact with you. He immediately started to quite literally devour you as fast and eagerly as he possibly could, his tongue exploring up and down your folds before he would take his time sucking on your clit.

Being loud and messy was clearly the last of his concerns. He looked like a hungry beast that hadn't eaten for centuries and you were his favorite type of prey. The obscenely loud noises, the speed of his tongue and mouth, and the way he keeps looking up at you only made the sensation even better.

Your moans increased as you quickly gathered all of his hair in a ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way, occasionally tugging on it whenever the feeling of his mouth would be too much. It was clear to you he absolutely loved having his hair pulled at this point. One of his hands was still gripping your thigh while the other moved up to your tits, taking his time massaging each one while his mouth continued his vicious attack on you.

He looked so desperate and eager, you couldn't help yourself from teasing him again. "Look at you now. Maybe I should keep doing this to keep you quiet for once," you say in between moans. "My prince can't shut up unless his face is buried between my legs?"

He moans against you, the sensation making you grip his hair even tighter. To say he was doing a good job would certainly be an understatement. His tongue would meet your hole while his nose rubs against your clit before he moves up again, taking his time to suck on it. He's absolutely hypnotized with your pussy, it's impossible not to stare at him as he hungrily eats you out.

"Fuck," you mutter, the feeling being too much for you at this point. "If you keep it up like that, I'll come so hard all over that pretty mouth of yours."

The idea of it seems to encourage him even more. He's using both of his hands to keep your thighs in place now. His eyes keep looking up at you, almost pleading for you to come already. Like silently trying to ask how close you are and if he's doing a good job.

Loki kept looking at you, and you felt the need to praise him for all he's doing. "You're so good– making me feel so good..."

He kept licking and sucking like that's what he was made for, his digits firmly pressed on your skin. It was a matter of time before you reached your orgasm, starting to desperately move your hips in order to reach that climax you so desperately crave.

You squeeze your eyes shut and you have to practically bite down on your hand so you wouldn't scream out in pleasure when you feel it, shoving his face impossibly closer to you. He gladly lets you suffocate him between your thighs, finally slowing his pace as he carefully licks up and down, allowing you to climb down from your high.

He kisses your inner thigh before finally moving back from you, giving you enough space to stand up from the couch as you recover all your senses. His hair is a complete mess and half of his face glistens with your juices and his saliva.

You hum against his lips when you roughly pull him in to kiss him. As soon as your lips smashed against his, you move your hands down to start working on unzipping his pants.

Loki was able to step out of his boots and pants as soon as that piece of clothing was falling to the ground. You continue to kiss him as you palm him through his underwear, smiling against his lips when you hear the sound that leaves his mouth when you move your hand inside the last piece of clothing remaining on his body, wrapping your fingers around him. You began masturbating him in a painfully slow manner, noticing his frustration and need growing by the way his grip on you tightened.

His hips began rocking just enough in hopes you'll get the hint he wants you to go faster, which made you pull away just to ask "what's wrong, my prince?" in a fake concerned voice, like you had no idea where his distress could be coming from.

"I want you to go faster, please," he says, cheeks flushed once again.

"You're an eager little thing, huh?" you mock him, and he has no other choice but to agree with a quick nod. You earned one of his loudest moans yet when you tease the head of his cock with your thumb. He practically whines when you're no longer touching him, your hand gripping the edge of his underwear instead. "How about we get rid of this and you sit down for me?"

Loki did exactly that, waiting for you to take off his underwear before he sat down, looking up at your eyes before he inevitably wandered down your body, staring at each and every part of you.

That excited puppy look was back when you took a seat on top of him, pumping him a few times before you aligned him with your entrance.

He leans his head back as soon as he starts feeling the tip of his painfully hard cock meeting your wet core, slowly starting to stretch you out. However, he's soon adjusting himself to look down in between the two of you, not wanting to miss a second of it. With every inch that disappeared inside of you, it was becoming harder and harder for both of you to control the urge to roughly fuck the other.

You really didn't want to rush it, enjoying the way he was slowly filling you up. And the look on his face as you sink down his length has got to be the hottest thing you've seen in your entire life. His eyes were darker than ever, but still managed to look so incredibly soft as he's allowing you to take as much time as you want, even when it's killing him.

Eventually, he was completely inside you. That's when you finally allowed yourself to lose control, immediately starting to move up before sinking back down. He was certainly not expecting you to speed things up just then, letting out a groan as he squeezes your ass, helping out with your next movements.

You hold onto his shoulders as you continue to ride him, speed only increasing, his cock repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you that only encourages you to keep going, craving your second release already.

"Don't stop," Loki grunts, looking more desperate than ever. "Please, don't stop..."

Both of you were practically a moaning mess at that point. You were pretty sure the grip he has on your ass will leave some kind of mark, but you couldn't care any less.

You let out a small cry when you feel yourself closer and closer, feeling your body all sweaty against his already, riding him like your life depended on it. At the speed you were going, it was a miracle you've been able to keep it up until now.

"You like how good it feels to stretch me out?" you ask with a smirk, enjoying how much of a mess he is right now.

"Yes..." he gasps. "Feels so good– you're so...so tight."

"Better than any of your daydreams about me, I'm sure," you mock him, earning another pathetic moan from him. "I'm close. Are– are you?"

Loki let you know he's almost there as well with a desperate nod. "Should I-?"

"No, no– fuck, no," you quickly say before he can finish. "I want you inside me."

Needless to say, he absolutely loved the sound of that. "Say that again?" he pleaded. You can tell he's barely able to keep it together anymore, his muscles tightening and his brows furrowing just enough.

"I want your cum so deep inside me," you moan.

"Shit," he practically growled, the tight grip on your ass being almost painful at this point, but you were loving the feeling on his fingers marking you skin while you're fucking him so deliciously.

"You'll have to wait until I come, though. Can you do that for me?" you ask, earning nothing but a nod. "You've been a very good boy so far. I'm sure you can use your words."

"I– yes, yes! I'll wait until you come."

"That's more like it," you grinned, trying to keep it together. So far, you're holding on a lot better than he is. "I bet you're liking this training better, huh? Me bouncing on your cock and you trying not to fill me up until I allow it."

Loki was only able to let out a series of desperate sounds, the wait for his release feeling painfully exquisite. You were making sure he remembers who's in control, which is only sending him closer to the edge.

"Next time you start being an asshole I should just– fuck– just shove your cock in me to keep you entertained. Doesn't matter if someone sees, right? I bet everyone will be thrilled to see this God begging for me," you continue, hearing him practically cry out in pleasure because your words while he's stretching you out is just too much. "Pathetic little boy, that's what you are."

"Please, I– I can't...anymore. Can't hold it," he cries, sounding completely wrecked at this point. "I need...need it...please."

"Say what you are."

"Mmm– I'm a pathetic little boy..."

"That's right," you praise, feeling your own orgasm rapidly building up. You still have no idea how you've been able to keep it together for so long. "If you want me to come, you have to ask for it. You can come right after me."

"Please give it to me...please, darling– need to feel it...please, please, please, please, please..."

His continuous pleas were just too much for you to handle, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close to you as your orgasm erupts, sending shivers down your entire body as you moan out his name, trying your best to muffle your sounds against his skin.

It took him no time to come as well, his grunting and moaning filling your ears. He closes his eyes and hides his face in the crook of your neck as he enjoys the sound of your voice desperately calling out his name and your walls squeezing him impossibly tighter.

The two of you ride off your orgasms, gasping for air. Sweat adorned your bodies as you continued to hug onto him, your entire weight resting on him as he gave his last few thrusts. You could feel the way he was filling you up, loving every second of it.

Loki let out a sigh, completely exhausted. When his thrusts stop, you move away just enough to be able to look at him. Cheeks red, lips parted, sweat all over and his black hair a complete mess. You move a hand up to fix his hair a little after having one of the most incredible fucks of your entire life (if not the best).

He leans in closer for a kiss and you didn't stop him.

"You know, I think I was wrong about training," he jokes right after pulling away. "We surely have to do this more often."

"Agreed," you nod. "But I really need to teach you some defense techniques first. Respectfully, you're awful at that."

"Don't push it," he warns, which inevitably makes you laugh.

"Fine," you comply. "By the way, I'll need my clothes back at one point."

"Oh, I almost forgot about that," he confesses. "I'll give them back to you, don't worry. Just– a few more seconds," he says, as if his arms still wrapped around your waist and his cock seeded inside you wasn't enough indication that he clearly wasn't in a rush to leave.

You rolled your eyes at his words, but didn't argue with him about it. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and decided to stay there with him. After how great that was, he surely deserves the cuddle.

[thesweetnessofspring]

A chapter from the OG Roses and Pearls

My revised version of Roses and Pearls is shaping up to be pretty different from the original, now-deleted 2012/13 version. A major plot point of the Capitol bombing D13 in particular was very different and I thought it would be fun to share the original here.

Some VERY key differences: Peeta hadn't yet completely switched over to the rebellion, and he and Rosalia are still together. I'd changed a lot of the events around, so it came out very different!

Below the cut is the original chapter from Roses and Pearls, unedited and unchanged from how it was written 11 years ago.

Within hours, the attacks start.

Although Katniss promises me no one will get hurt as long as they stay in the shelter, I can't believe it. The walls tremble and vibrations shiver up into my core. I sit handcuffed on the floor of the Everdeen's tent, sick and worried.

"I can't believe she did this," I whisper.

"Really? You can't believe it?" Katniss frowns.

Would I have done this weeks and weeks ago, before I found out the truth, before I became friends with these people here? Yes. I would have. Rosalia still sees Thirteen as the enemy, the way I saw it when I first came here. She thought this would save her, set right what went awry that night on the rooftop garden.

"I guess…I guess I can believe it."

The walls rumble with the impact of another bomb.

"You sure picked a real winner, Peeta." Katniss draws her knees up to her chest and continues scowling.

"She's not…she's—"

"Are you defending her?"

"I'm not approving of what she did, but she's not a mutt like you're trying to make her out to be."

She makes a disgusted sound from deep in her throat. "Not a mutt? She has mutt in her blood from her grandfather, from the Capitol. And she proved that she has it by letting them know about us!"

"She's a prisoner! She's scared! She's been taken from her home, her life turned upside down, and she wants to go back to the way things were before. That's why she told them about us. Don't act like you wouldn't do the same if the Capitol captured you."

Katniss stiffens. "No, I wouldn't. Because the Capitol would brainwash me before I even got the chance, and they'd make me believe in things I didn't."

Her words sting like a slap on the face. She thinks I'm still a puppet for the Capitol. And why would she think any differently? I'm still handcuffed as a prisoner and defending Rosalia. I haven't told her that I remember anything about the past, even the slightest recognition that I loved her.

"I'm not saying what she did was right. I'm just trying to look at it from her shoes. If I thought it was right, I never would have warned you."

She drops her gaze from mine and runs her fingers over the metal floor. I sigh. It feels like we'll never be able to understand each other about this.

"Do you want to go to bed soon?" she asks. "I can make up your bed."

I shake my head. "I won't be able to sleep through the attack."

"Me either."

"Stay with me?" I ask her.

She jerks her head up at me, eyes round. "You remember?"

"Remember what?" I have no idea, but suddenly, I wish I did.

She droops again. "Never mind."

The bombs continue through the night. President White issues one week in the shelter, allowing for the debris to cool and the Capitol to believe we didn't survive the bombs. After that, we'll head out for refuge.

When the bombs cease, I sleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours, so exhausted I probably could sleep through another attack.

I wake up a few hours later, not ready to get out of bed and deal with our situation. I keep my eyes closed, but I notice two people talking in the Everdeens' area. Katniss and Gale.

"Eleven will be able to get us food once we get to Twelve," Gale says.

"The Capitol will try to rein them in first, though. They'll die without Eleven supplying them," Katniss says.

"They're not stupid. Ever since you won and the small rebellions started, the Capitol has stocked up on food. They have a year's worth of it. Not exactly the extent of Thirteen's planning, but still good considering."

"I can't imagine those precious Capitol people eating canned food." Katniss's tone leaks acid.

"Woah, I thought I'm the one who gets to rag on the rich people, while you remind me of your precious prep team and that Effie woman."

"Just because there are some good but confused people in the Capitol doesn't mean they won't complain about their food. And not all of them are so great, either."

I count two breaths.

"What?" Katniss asks.

"You really hate Rosalia Snow."

"Don't you?"

"Yeah, but I think our reasons are probably different."

"Gale, she blew our cover, almost got us killed."

"Besides One and Two, all of the rebellions succeeded and none of us are dead. And anyway, did you expect anything else from her? She's an idiot."

"I don't trust her, and I don't think she's completely an idiot. Peeta…he acts like he's still in love with her, defending what she did. What did she do to him to make him think like that? Why would he love her, even after all of this?"

Did I still love her? A little, I guess. A small piece of me held onto what she'd been to me before, a refuge for the loneliness and pain, someone to make me forget about it all. But we'd grown to apart now, our goals too dissimilar.

"She is beautiful," Gale says. After a moment, he continues, "Well, she is. If you get past her freaky hair, she has a great body, and her face isn't too bad either. Huge lips and big eyes."

"But after everything she did. She can't be that beautiful."

"Look, I can tell you more about what I know as far as the rebellion goes, or we can keep going on about your hatred and Peeta's love for this girl."

"Fine. What else is important?"

"Like I said before, One and Two are still firm in the Capitol's hold. They're sending out back-ups to the other districts from them, because we never had a strong hold of the rebellion there, anyway."

"But Lyme knows Two," Katniss says.

"She does, which is why we had to break her out of the Capitol. Still, she can't do it alone."

"One shouldn't be hard to break, should it?"

"They've been taking up more kids to train as Careers. They practically have their own army now."

"We have all but those two districts. We're going to win, aren't we?"

"We should," Gale says. "But Two will be difficult to crack, and without doing so, we'll never be able to get to the Capitol. They could reassemble and take back the districts again. Just because we're winning now doesn't mean we will be in a few months."

"We've been going so long with this. I just want it to be over."

"I know."

Gale's voice is so understanding, even nurturing, that I can't lay down low anymore. I open my eyes and sit up in bed. Katniss and Gale sit a foot apart, not touching. I rub my eyes, remembering that Gale's married and Katniss told me she didn't love him more than a friend. I shouldn't worry about them.

But I still do, a little bit.

"Good morning. Or afternoon. Nighttime?" I say, uncertain here underground and without my schedule what time it is.

Gale checks his watch. "Afternoon."

"Here, I'll get you some food," Katniss says, standing up to get it.

While I eat, Katniss and Gale don't say anything else to each other, probably because I'm not supposed to know much, in case I spill their secrets to the Capitol in some way.

There's not much to do in the shelter. Most people wander around, visit other people. Delly comes to see us, her cheeks a little flushed.

"I did it," she says once she sits down, but still straight with excitement. "I told Bron how I felt."

"And…?"

She smiles and lets out a giggle. "He kissed me."

I have to admit, I'm shocked. Bron had seemed so distant, I didn't expect him to react so immediately to Delly's declaration. I grin, though, at seeing Delly finally getting what she's deserved for so long.

"What did he say?" I ask.

"That he's liked me for a long time, but he didn't say anything because he knew the war would be happening, and if he died or got hurt, he didn't want me to hurt, either. But once I let him know I was already crazy about him…well, why not enjoy what we have now, right?"

"I told you to just tell him."

Delly nods. "I think it was the bombs that really made me do it. We all might die any day now. Might as well live while we can."

Other people come to visit, mostly for Katniss and Prim. Quite a few young men come for Prim, actually. They all pay her close attention, but most of the time her answers are polite, and not interested. Katniss keeps a close eye on those boys and looms into their conversations to intimidate them. I think she might be doing it to help out Prim, but the way she glares at those boys might prove she has a different motive.

After the fourth day, Katniss asks me, with a sour look on her face, if I want to see Rosalia.

"No," I say. "I'm not ready."

And I'm not. I know what I'm going to do when I see her next. I'm going to take back the ring, once and for all. Not because of Katniss. I still doubt Katniss cares for me more than she cares for Gale. I'm going to break up with her because it's what the both of us need. I don't love her enough anymore. And if she lives through this war, she deserves for someone to love her like I used to. But I'm not relishing going to her and telling her we're done, watching her heart break in front of me and her sobbing. She'll get over me, although it might take a while. And she will find someone else to love her and marry her.

As I fall asleep that night with Katniss's pallet beside mine, I wonder if I'll ever stop loving Katniss like I've stopped loving Rosalia. If I'll move on and fall in love with someone else. Or will my childhood dream always follow me, always come back to me, no matter what brainwashing it goes through?

There, on the border of day and night, I realize what Katniss thought I remembered.

"Always."

This, my whole romantic life, has been made up of two things. Roses and pearls.

Rosalia's love had been a sudden bloom in my life, fragrant and entrancing. A beautiful sight to brighten up a gloomy day. But like all flowers, hers wilted, lost its scent, and died. A brief love affair, considering the whole of my life.

But Katniss was no rose. My love for her started out small, a few speckles of sand. Irritating, a little, with my frustration of being unable to talk to her and her closed nature. But still, I rubbed at it like an oyster. And through it all, the bread, the Games, even this hellhole in Thirteen, my love had transformed into the pearl. Beautiful, rare, and lasting.

Something I'll always treasure.

[poisonwaterlily3]

Started listening to The Magnus Archives earlier this summer. I am now halfway through season four and it is impossible to stifle the urge to write, especially horror, using this particular frame. And I also have no self control when it comes to not sharing things I've made so... (additionally, the particular institute and Archivist reading this and any future statements I write are unspecified)

A Humble Garden

Statement of Robert Mildew regarding the snakes around his home. Statement given on December 23rd, 2012.

I... okay maybe this is a weird place to start, but what do you know about the ouroboros? Well, it's a symbol in alchemy and in Egypt and a lot of other things. It has a lot of meanings depending on who, where, and when you ask. It can mean the harmony of the physical and spiritual or the passing of time or death and rebirth. I didn't used to think much of it but now... well I see it every time I blink.

I have this garden, right? Just a dainty little hobby I thought I'd take up when I moved back to the states here. Pretty modest thing and that's fine, I don't mind it. Yet modest as it may be, it seems that all of nature has become bent on making it as difficult for it to survive as possible. There's been floods, there's been droughts, one time an entire carrot just up and vanished. Yeah, I counted four carrots one day and then two the next! No hole where it could've gone missing or dig marks from a hungey animal or anything. I suppose something with more power than I has marked that poor four by four square for death, hah! The most recent attack er, well the second most recent now I guess, was an infestation of these terrible little mites that just tore things up. I feared I may have used too much pesticide, but after almost five months of those little buggers... well I had no choice but to empty the last third of the can in one day. It didn't seem to have any ill effect on the produce when it came time to eat, though I sure was worried it had I'll tell you that much!

But those events in particular aren't what brought me to your institute, not really. Not too long ago, I checked up on my garden and found a snake in it. Now of course that's nothing special on its own, it was just a measly garden snake after all I've found a dozen of them in my garden up until then but... it was autumn. Not just that, it was late autumn, practically winter. I was decked out in a rather warm outfit which meant I could continue checking up on my crops with no fear of being bitten but... well it's so odd right? A snake in early winter and it didn't appear dormant at all, just lively circling my garden. And it was then as soon as I realized truly how odd that this snake had appeared out of nowhere to slither laps around some vegetables that it stopped. And it stared at me.

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a snake? I doubt you have. It's weird you know, like you're looking dead into the eyes of another being just as intelligent and sentient as you who has intentionally, very deliberately chosen a life dedicated to killing. I stared into its eye for quite a minute, neither of us moving, until I realized that it did not have the eyes of a garden snake. No, those have always had those big round eyes that made me love when I received a visit from them. This one had the eyes of a rattlesnake. Something that meant me harm. I wanted to back away when I realized this, thinking I had misjudged, but it's gaze just petrified me, kept me planted there like the, well, plants in my garden.

Well while I had this brief staring contest, I ended up letting my mind wander until it itself happened upon an older snake-related memory. My father must have taken me to a sort of reptile showcase. It's a vague memory, really. Part of me wants to say it was a random stop during a long road trip but that doesn't really make any sense. Regardless, we park, hop out of the car, walk over and the next thing I remember was staring at this woman, the guide and maybe a snake handler. I don't remember much about her, though I'm certain that whether an 11 year old me thought she was pretty will surely be a hotly debated subject for your organization's top researchers.

Regardless, one thing that did stick in my mind was her rather fitting tattoo snake tattoo and this, I do believe, is what I stared at her for. The tattoo ended at a tail on her middle finger and crept up her arm with such a meandering pace that my eyes felt like they too slithered just following it. Does an image have a pace? Well, that one most certainly did, there is no other way to describe the delicate, foreshortened detail of it, though maybe that too is an inaccurate description. Still though, my eyes followed the tattoo up her arm, her shoulder, down under neck in a way that made it appear like a necklace before ascending back up her neck and eventually ending with an open, wide, fanged mouth ready to bite down on the corner of her jaw.

Looking at her tattoo filled me with this deep dread, like everything I knew would just vanish the moment I reached the end of it, but I just couldn't help myself. I found myself looking deep into the eye of the tattoo. Suddenly I was back in my garden, the snake now gone and the winter wind chilled my bundled body. I admit I was concerned that I had no idea where the snake had gone—I'm sure you know that feeling when you lose track of a spider—but I was all bundled up and despite that, felt cold and scared, so I decided my work was done for the day and headed inside. Winter crops have a way of enduring better anyway.

I returned to my garden the next day and would you believe it if I told you that same snake was there? A garden snake that had the eyes of a hostile rattler. Looking at it gave me that same sense of finality, of something that cannot be avoided anymore, something terrible that had slithered its way into my world. I did my work though, albeit with trembling hands, and made sure to leave it its personal space, all the while I tried not to trigger another staring contest. Then it was there the next day. And the next day after that. I felt a bit relieved that it had become somewhat routine in a way, just having a weird little hybrid snake friend in my garden. I named him Buddy.

The day after that there were two Buddys. They were identical, both of them circling the garden in perfect unison like yin and yang. Around and around, back and forth. It made my stomach drop. I stared at them on my porch for a little while, unsure of what to do about this, if there was anything to do at all. It was just two snakes. Two really weird snakes out in the middle of winter, but is that really all that big of a concern? In hindsight, yeah sure it is but when you're standing there, dumbfounded and with no idea of what's about to happen you just don't know. Regretfully, I found myself too much of a coward to do my usual garden work with them there so I ultimately turned back inside.

The next day there were three. The two from the day prior continued their circling and I noticed some shifting out of the corner of my eye. There was another Buddy in one of my trees. At this point I hadn't even stepped foot outside, just looking out my kitchen window when I saw them. I decided not to tend my garden that day.

The days after that were worse. Four, five, six, nine, thirteen... it became harder and harder to count as time went on. Eventually I just gave up and decided that the elements had won; I was not going to reach my garden again this year. Every day, I'd just stand at my kitchen window and look out at all of them, the wriggly little things and... the worst part was how they all just stared at me. All of them except the ones which chose to circle my garden like an ant spiral. I never saw them move their heads though, so I can only guess that they all just spent their days staring directly at my window.

I think it was around this point that my devices started to go all wack. It started with my laptop for my job. I work online and thank goodness because my commute would just be too long for it. Side effect of living out in the woods I guess. That and snakes. Still though, once my laptop decided to stop working I had no choice but to email my boss and request an early Christmas. He's a good one as far as bosses go and let me off. I felt terribly bad for him, but I felt I had bigger things to worry about.

It was awful. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how I'd even begin to describe all of this to a pest control or electronic repair person, much less how they'd actually help me. Those snakes all look like common garden snakes, but they can't be. Their eyes just don't belong. They look so hostile, so full of envy. Hate. I think I decided at some point that they Buddys just hated me for some reason. It was just the impression that I got from looking into their eyes, their tongues sticking out and retreating again in disgust. They knew I didn't have any power here.

Next were my televisions, then it was my oven. I wondered briefly what could possibly be responsible for the simultaneous supernatural failures of my technological devices. Another look out my window put that question to rest. I mean, it was a stretch to be sure but Christ, what else could it be? I went ahead and updated my calendar so that I knew what day it was my phone when that decided to fail on me suddenly. It was a good call since it was the next to go on December 18th.

More snakes showed up of course. Twenty, thirty, forty, at that point I couldn't bother counting and I just had to estimate. Fifty? Seventy? Dare I say a hundred? It was impossible to tell really. I only saw them in the backyard. At some point I closed the blinds and curtains to every other window, I did not want to know how many were outside those or if they were staring into my house at me there either. But I couldn't bring myself to blind myself to the kitchen window. I always spent a brief moment looking over my garden; it was still fine, even with fifteen snakes circling it for god knows what reason. What did I say earlier about the endurance of winter crops? Really though, I just couldn't look away from them. I wonder how many hours total I've spent just staring out that window... Not much else I could do with my time but look my impending doom in their eyes. Their hundreds of eyes...

I was running out of food by this point but there wasn't really much I could do. Every electronic in my home had given up on me so I couldn't contact anyone. Well, I guess my thermostat still worked but that wasn't useful for anything besides climate control. I suppose the reptiles didn't have it in their hearts to take the heat away from me. Small mercies? I would've tried getting in my car and leaving but one look out the front window told me that the snakes did surround my house and were looking into every window, blinded or not. I felt terrible just constantly. I could hardly sleep if not from my empty stomach than with the stomach churning knowledge that this was the end. These harmless snakes would be the death of me.

I woke up on December 21st, not really expecting anything different. There were plenty of doomsayers crying out about the end of the world on that day. "December 21st, 2012 will be the end! It was written by the Mayans! It'll be the end I tell you!" None of them knew what they were talking about and yet... they were right. I knew it from the moment I looked outside on the winter solstice.

There were no snakes in my backyard. None in my garden, none in my trees. I looked out the other windows and all the same. The snakes were gone. I took one hesitant step outside in a snug jacket and my old pal Buddy slithered up at miraculous speeds onto the railing of my back porch. I tried to run but could not, instead I found myself in another staring contest with this snake. I was so sure that this was the original snake, my Buddy. I'm still sure of it though I have no real reason to think that. All of them were were identical anyway.

Buddy then began to slither and twist and bend himself, coiling comfortably on the rail. I watched in disbelief as he began to eat his own tail.

I stared this garden snake eye-to-eye in awe and fear when suddenly I completely understood what this was.

It was the first, it multiplied into many, and it became one again. And now it is destroying itself with eyes full of hatred and jealousy and rage. Think on that. It is the little I can do to make you understand.

Because I understand. I understood.

But I cannot possibly tell you what it is I understood no matter how much I wish I could.

I do not have the words to make you understand what the phrase "We will not last forever" really means, the fact that we cannot last forever. You can know, sure, but you cannot understand. It takes a revealing of truth with such enormous gravity that simply cannot be repeated, cannot be expressed, cannot be place into another's head without them experiencing those days—those weeks of hour long gazes and restless nights and starving waking hours. You simply cannot understand.

I do understand.

And it is every moment that I wish I did not.

That is all.

End of statement.

To my knowledge, there are not many statements that regard snakes and even in those they only appear in minor roles. That is to say that their decidedly major appearance here is very curious. I'll be sure to have my assistants find any others that feature snakes and we'll look into any common themes.

As for right now, I will categorize this as an instance of KnowingUnwanted given the focus on how they stare, although the crisis the statement ends on also gives me cause to note it as perhaps Impermanence. It is not unreasonable that it could be both after all. Neither of them are particularly associated with technology though so... *sigh* what a headache this one is.

End of documentation.