#i hope to recover soon

[neiptune]

dazzling haze, mysterious way

(eren x female reader)

college au; enemies to lovers

wc: 7k+

warnings: cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard

a/n: i have no excuses for this madness, please know i am embarrassed. considering writing a part 2 if you enjoy!

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a) indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Christa, c) spending half of said christmas movie night repeatedly asking Christa to put her phone down (she can text her girlfriend after Juliet answers the doorbell to find Mark carrying a boombox playing a christmas carol and large cue cards), d) getting some well deserved rest after a decent finals week

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) having to threaten to throw your brother’s nintendo switch out the window if he doesn’t stop smoking in his room, d) being so short on money you’re forced to look for babysitting jobs to roll out the slim earnings you get from working as a tutor on campus

So here you are, buried in a gigantic white puffer jacket and handmade scarf, backpack heavy with books, DVDs, craft supplies. Here you are, ringing the doorbell of one of the fanciest houses of the entire, affluent neighborhood you’ve been directed to by the woman who had called you yesterday. You sincerely hope you didn’t get off the bus too early nor too late, as this is not really a part of your hometown you’re familiar with.

You are, however, fairly familiar with the 5’12 broad chested green eyed cable knit sweater and pajama bottoms wearing figure opening the door.

“Thanks, we don’t need anything” he says, gaze flickering over your outfit, only one second spent wondering where you could possibly be hiding a vacuum cleaner.

Does he really not recognize you? Is it the scarf or is he actually that much of an idiot?

“Does Gabi live here?” you ask, unimpressed.

His eyebrows raise in interest.

“She isn’t old enough to buy anything”

“Eren, I’m here to babysit” it feels so weird to say his name out loud to someone that isn't Mikasa or Christa. It’s weird to call him by his name while he’s there to actually hear it.

“Do I know you?” his gaze narrows, gears in his head working exceptionally hard to try and remember a face that simply isn’t familiar enough for him to pinpoint.

You sigh.

“Isn’t your mom here? She asked me to come today and has already paid in advance. I can leave but—”

He finally opens the door fully, a gust of wind makes him shiver and it finally dawns on him that it’d probably be rude to let you freeze on his doorstep.

“Come in, I’ll call her” he moves to the side and you accept the invitation with relief, hands ice cold even if buried inside your pockets.

The house is warm, smells nice and you can hear that the tv is on in the living room. You stay by the door, watch as he heads to what you can only guess is the kitchen and comes out shortly after, phone squeezed between his cheek and shoulder as he removes the hair band sitting around his wrist with his teeth.

“Hey mom” you do your best not to stare as he ties his hair back and the sweater rises up slightly, revealing part of an annoyingly toned stomach “yeah, ‘m fine. Someone’s here, she says it’s to babysit Gabi?”

However, you are staring. Which explains why you slightly jump when his gaze is suddenly on you again as he hums, listening to whatever explanation his mom is giving him.

“Ah, right. She says you already paid?”

“I can leave and send the money back” you take a small step forward but Eren motions you to keep quiet with a raise of his pointer finger.

“Okay, I got it. Yes, I’ll tell her. Thanks, you too, tell dad I said hi” he smiles softly before ending the call and shoving the phone in his pocket.

“It’s honestly my fault, I came back one day earlier than expected. She’s embarrassed and so sorry and will call you later to apologize”

“It’s really no problem, I’ll just send the payment back” you’re already with one hand on the door handle, hoping to god the next bus will come within an hour, when his fingers delicately close around your wrist.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay”

“There’s no need, just take the money and I’ll be on my way”

Eren suddenly furrows his brows for a second, then his hand reaches over to your scarf and gently pulls it down enough to reveal the entirety of your nose and mouth.

“Ah, you’re the tutor girl. Thought I recognized that polemic tone” and now you finally find him more familiar as well, with that snarky smirk and teasing gaze.

“I wouldn’t need to be polemic if you actually cooperated for once in your life”

He brings both hands to his chest, a fake grimace distorting his features.

“Ouch. Still can’t believe Armin describes you as pleasant to be around”

You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Likewise. I’ll send the money back when I get home” you grumble, turning around to open the door once again. It sucks, cause you need it and your house is half an hour away and it’s 28.4 °F outside, but it’s the right thing to do.

“Hey, listen” Eren doesn’t grab your wrist a second time, his hand reaches the door handle instead. In an attempt to keep it shut, he’s basically hovering above you, an invasion of your personal space so sudden you barely have the time to register that he smells sickeningly nice. Way better than you have anticipated, given that he usually looks like someone who showers once a month and even then refuses to wash his legs cause water and soap rinse down on them anyway.

“She has homework, some kind of project to do. I’m too tired to deal with it, just do the job so you can keep the money and I can keep watching house of the dragon”

“Who is that? ” a high pitched voice asks, making you jump. Eren’s infamous smirk appears once again as he leans forward even more to whisper a good luck though, she’s a pain in the ass right to the shell of your ear. The shudder is a perfectly normal, balanced reaction that you hope to fuck he doesn’t notice.

“She’s your new mom, Gab! Mine finally decided I’m the only one worth keeping around, so she’s given you up for adoption, again” he finally pulls back and winks at his sister, who returns him an unimpressed look.

“Hi, Gabi, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m just gonna be here for a few hours to keep you company” you take off your scarf and attempt a smile. The petite, young girl staring back at you seems offended.

“I don’t need a babysitter, I’m twelve”

God, she really is his sister. The medium length black hair half tied above her head with large strands framing each side of a very skeptical face is the same as his, only darker.

“Have fun” Eren grins, patting your shoulder once before disappearing into the living room once again.

You clear your throat and kneel down to place your backpack on the floor, unzipping your jacket in an effort to stop sweating. What do they have in the house, radiators buried in the damn walls? 

“I’m not here to babysit” you smile again “I won’t even bother you if you don’t want me to. Just thought I could give you a hand to finish whatever schoolwork you may have, so you can enjoy the rest of the holidays doing whatever you like”

Gabi weighs her options, studying you for a few moments. She knows she’s gonna have to do her homework anyway, sooner or later, so if this stranger suddenly appearing at her house is going to be there regardless, she might as well be of use.

“Whaddya have in there?” she suspiciously eyes your backpack and you zip it open to give her free peeking access. Gabi kneels on the carpet as well, snooping around the content of the indigo eastpak. “These movies are lame” she grumbles, holding one of the DVDs in between her pointer and middle finger.

You fake a gasp.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Balto is an all time classic” you grumble back, taking the DVD back. Gabi fights the smile already tugging at her lips. She usually likes adults who talk to her as if she’s one of them, and you seem kinda fun. But it’s too early to let you know.

“What’s the crafting stuff for? I’m not three” she bites again, standing up with her arms crossed. You shrug.

“Those are for me, in case I get bored. I create killer notebooks from scratch, sometimes a pinwheel or two if I feel inspired enough” you casually wink, finally taking off your jacket and hanging it by the door, over your scarf.

“So, I guess, if you don’t want my help I may as well go craft myself something” you dramatically sigh, throwing your backpack over one shoulder and starting to march towards the living room.

“Actually, I kinda have a project for school” she mumbles under her breath, still loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh?” you turn around, brows raised.

“I have to make a snow globe and associate a story with it”

��D’you think I could help with that?”

She casually scratches her nose, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“Okay”

“How did you even manage to fit all that in one backpack?” Gabi eyes the materials scattered on the kitchen table, appalled. There’s paint, fake snow, fishing line, brushes, some small wooden decorations, ribbons, a glue gun.

“I have my ways” you chuckle “do you have everything we need?”

“I guess” she sounds skeptical, your favorite emotion to work with.

“Great! Let’s wash the container first, use warm soapy water and scrub well”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that?”

“Nope” you pop the p “you’re the one in charge, remember?”

She snorts but heads to the sink anyway, to do as instructed. You wait at the table, foot tapping lightly on the polished parquet floor. When she comes back and sits next to you, you can tell that she’s holding back some curiosity about how the whole thing is going to turn out.

“Wanna pick the decorations we’re going to use?” you smile, pushing the small wooden figures towards her “I have stars, trees, a truck, a bear, I think that’s a reindeer and, well, a slightly crooked snowman”

Gabi takes the decorations in her hands one by one, carefully inspecting each of them, pensive. The crests forming on her forehead as she focuses remind you of the exact same ones Eren gets when trying to understand how to solve a problem sheet.

“Let’s use the stars, the trees and the crooked snowman. We could give him a nice story”

“Sounds good to me. Wanna do the honors?” you ask, handing her a brush.

“I get to paint them?” her voice comes out slightly squeaky, coated with genuine excitement and, as you nod, she finally rewards you with a big, warm smile.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you fondly watch as she focuses on making the stars, the trees and the snowman come alive with gentle strokes of color. She’s pretty talented and gets into it soon, asking for your opinion from time to time. As soon as she’s finished with the stars, you cut two pieces of fishing line and glue the stars onto one end. Then you take the other end and glue it to the inside of the lid, letting the stars dangle downward. This earns you a wow, you’re actually good at this stuff.

Time passes comfortably as you continue to work on the little project. You help Gabi glue the red ribbon around the (now painted green) lid, adding some twine to keep it in place. She fills the inside of the container with the fake snow and insists on getting some pink glitter from her room to give the snow more character. Lastly, she carefully glues down the decorations in the container, places the lid on top and snaps it closed.

When Eren steps into the kitchen, almost two hours later, he briefly stops to take in the view of you two bent over the messiest table he’s ever seen, paper sheets and colored pencils scattered everywhere as you confabulate in soft whispers occasionally interrupted by genuine giggles. He doesn’t remember seeing his little sister giggle with a stranger, like, ever.

“What’re you doing?” he inquires, finally bringing himself to interrupt the magical exchange he’s witnessing. You both look up as he approaches the table and Gabi proudly indicates your work of art.

“We made a snow globe!” she announces.

“Did you, now?” Eren fails to hold back a smile as he takes a look, carefully twisting the container in his hands.

“And we’re giving the snowman a story” Gabi grins, handing him one of the sheets on which she has drawn a scene from the tale you’re both trying to come up with.

His gaze flickers on you, amused, as if waiting for you to add something.

“His name’s Holly” your smile is uncharacteristically sheepish as you take back the page from his hands, accidentally grazing his fingers.

“Holly Berry” Gabi clarifies, which causes another sudden fit of laughter Eren can’t help but feel dragged into. He doesn’t really understand why or how he ends up sitting at the table as well, examining each drawing and handwritten paragraph you have produced. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he starts coming up with ideas for the plot himself, suggesting that Holly Berry was actually a human raised in a village of snowmen for so long he eventually turned into one, although slightly imperfect, thus not always treated kindly by his fellow villagers. Eren Yeager actually takes a pencil in his hand and starts sketching drawings of gingerbread houses, candy cane forests and lakes of ribbon candies. He gives Holly Berry a human face and is offended by the way you steal the pencil from in between his fingers, mumbling that those features resemble more a potato than a human being. And yet he isn’t offended for long, because you reach across the table to fix the sketch with decisive and unforgiving strokes, but he can smell your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from your face on his, so he has to lean forward just a tiny bit more.

“It does look better like this”, he concedes. The slight gruffness punctuating his words makes you look up and pull back to your chair immediately, in what definitely isn’t a suave motion. You know how attractive he is, because you’re not blind nor an idiot, although you’ve never been this close to him. He appears to reach a whole new level of attractiveness when his features are relaxed, cheeks slightly dusted with pink, eyes focused on whatever his skilled hands are tracing on a page. What makes it worse, is that he clearly knows. Which is not a bad thing per se, but just adds perfectly to that asshole attitude of his.

You know Eren Yeager because he’s like a celebrity. Best player of the Trost University men’s basketball team, decent grades, a party thrower that usually spends said parties sitting in a corner making out with hot girls, part of a large, loud group of friends, doesn’t smile much in public, usually dresses in black. You’ve seen him around campus for so long and yet only got to talk to him once, because of Armin, who works as a tutor as well. One afternoon, Eren had suddenly decided to barge in your friendly study session, annoyingly talking over and over and over again about trivial matters, not even acknowleding your presence until you asked him if he was aware of the interruption he was causing.

“Sorry, you are?”

“This is y/n, we tutor students together”, Armin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, apologetic gaze finding your annoyed one.

Eren had barely spared you a glance and a slight nod.

“’Kay, well, can’t you leave early today? Jean’s being a massive pain in my ass about tonight’s party and-”

“He can’t leave early, we’re busy”, you cut him off impatiently, pencil drumming on the textbook page opened in front of you.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were still there.

“Listen, this kinda doesn’t concern you so can you give us a sec?”

Armin sighed as you put down the pencil in disbelief.

“No, I can’t give you a sec. I’m waiting for you to leave so we can resume a work that kinda doesn’t concern you”

With his eyebrow muscle contracting involuntarily in a twitch, Eren suddenly slammed his backpack onto the table, pulled out two thick textbooks, a notebook, one pencil, and stared at you with a challenging look in his sage gaze.

“It does now. I need help with this assignment”

Armin rolled his eyes as you pursed your lips, incredulous at such nerve.

“D’you think this is some sort of game?”

“Nah, a game would require you to remove that stick up your ass”

“Eren!”, Armin elbowed him in the arm, cheeks burning from an embarrassment that shouldn’t have been his.

So, in both your mind and conversations with friends, he became asshole, drunk on self-confidence, narcissistic Eren Yeager. Someone should’ve told him that being hot doesn’t give you a free card to also be a cocky fucker, so you simply won’t allow to whatever magic he works on everyone else to affect you as well. Even if his smile is warm as he jokingly throws a crumpled up piece of paper to his little sister, even if that dishevelled bun gives him a laid back look you can’t help but feel drawn to because it’s real, void of his usual, arrogant nonchalance.

“I’m kinda hungry” Gabi says after a while.

Eren glances at the clock hanging over the counter.

“Well, dad’s conference’s gonna last at least two more hours. Whatcha feel like eating? Grilled cheese?”

Her nose scrunches up in a disgusted but cute grimace.

“I’d like real food”

“Didn’t know bread and cheese were considered abstract food”

You can’t help but chuckle at the exchange and, as they both direct their gazes at you, an idea pops in your head.

“I could make noodles?”

Gabi perks up noticeably.

“Sure, we should have some instant noodles somewhere”, Eren gets up and walks towards the stove to start checking in drawers and cupboards. You get up as well, gently pushing him aside to grab a cutting board and carefully select what you need from the spices and sauces shelf: curry, cumin, white pepper, soy sauce. He looks at you, appalled, which makes you laugh again.

“I mean, I can make them from scratch if you don’t mind me messin' up your kitchen a bit. It’s healthier” you suggest with a shrug.

“Yes please!” Gabi cheers as her brother rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. How on fuck did you manage to make her warm up to you that much in such a short time?

“I feel like you don’t get paid enough for this” he mumbles, to which you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s nothing. Gabi, why don’t you keep working in the living room? I’ll have to set the table” you turn around to glance at her and she gets up right away, diligently collecting everything she needs in her little arms. Eren waits until she’s out of the room to lean on the counter, arms crossed as he follows your every movement around the kitchen.

“Can you stop staring?” you ask, focused on emptying a generous amount of sesame oil in a non-stick frying pan.

“Why, do I make you nervous?”

“If you’re asking whether your presence is bothersome, the answer’s yes”

An amused smile tugs at his lips as he watches you cut a red onion into thin wedges and then add them to the pan while softly humming.

“Didn’t know we’re from the same town” Eren finds it only slightly annoying that you’re being such a sealed box to him. He’s seen the warmth you have so effortlessly unleashed on his sister and can now find it less astonishing, the fact that his best friend likes spending time with you.

You snort as you keep cutting other ingredients: mangetout, some baby park choi, three spring onions, baby corn. You’re good at it, even if you’re so fast his eyes can’t help but nervously flicker from your face to your fingers, tense at the idea that you migth cut off one of your digits. In his kitchen.

“Can you even remember my name?” the question is dripping with sarcasm but your hands are forced to come to a halt when he mutters it without hesitation. He finds pleasure in proving you wrong, in witnessing the way your shoulders had slightly jumped up in surprise. And you feel brain stuck on how his lips must’ve wrapped around your name, making it sound so much better than what you’re used to. It’s just a name and he’s just a guy, what kinda freaky black magic is he working?

“My sister likes you” as much as it’s fun to tease, he finds he enjoys seeing you at ease, relaxed enough to spend an entire afternoon giggling with a twelve year old and actually enjoying it. It works, because you instantly offer a gentle smile as you crush a large garlic clove with the pressure of your palm on the knife you’ve been using.

“I like her, too. It’s scary how clever she is”

“Runs in the family”

To his surpise, you can’t help but let out an airy laugh. It’s authentic, definitely not coated with snark, and he likes it. How many more times could he make you laugh like that again, he wonders?

“Can you pass me some udon noodles?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. By now everything you’re frying in that pan looks and smells delicious, the curry powder and soy sauce have given all ingredients a golden brown appearence that makes his stomach rumble. As you add some previously heated water to the pan, you can hear Eren opening drawer after drawer, until the distinct sound of plastic being ripped open makes you think he’s found what he’s looking for. You don’t have the time to turn around and reach out to grab the pack of noodles from his hand because he’s already right behind you, so close his chest actually presses to your back for a second as he reaches over to pour the noodles in the pan himself, his other hand casually gripping the counter inches away from your hip. The proximity is unexpected, shocking and pleasantly warm, so you swallow and clench the handle of the wooden spoon you’re using to stir the ingredients.

“Set the table, please” the strangled way words come out makes it sound as if you’re begging, which would usually entertain him but for some reason he can’t bring himself to find it funny, the way you’re luring him in. In fact, the whole situation is so far from being funny, he has to force his body to move away from yours and towards the cabinet where his mom keeps the plates, because what would become of him if you sensed he was on the verge of getting fucking hard from the domesticity of it all? For someone he’s never even actually talked to, no less. What kinda fucked up witchcraft were you practicing? And what on earth did you even use to wash your hair?

It’s soft, the way you call Gabi once the food is ready and it’s playful, the way you urge her to turn around and go wash her hands first, as she dramatically sighs but complies nevertheless. Against all odds where odds = vegetables, she ends up devouring two servings of what, he has to admit, is the best yaki udon he’s ever had. You’re barely picking at your small portion, too busy making sure Gabi eats all she wants.

By the end of a dinner mostly spent coming up with more story options for Holly Berry and giving patient answers to the hundreds questions Gabi has directed your way (Eren now knows your favorite color is turquoise, your younger brother’s name, what you’re going to give Christa as a christmas gift, when your birthday is, which exam took you the longest to study for) he has to insist both of you leave the dishes to him and go finish Holly’s story. You protest—it’s his house and you’re being paid to work—but he simply motions Gabi to drag you away and she surely complies, her small hand closing around yours to not so gently guide you out of the kitchen.

It’s hard not to marvel at the Yeagers’ living room, fire crackling in the wreath covered white marble fireplace beneath the 80+ inch tv mounted to the wall. In the corner stands a second christmas tree (they have one by the kitchen door as well), twice as high, glistening with golden and silver decorations, red ribbons sitting on alternated branches. The big, sectional sofa is covered in what’s probably soft leather and curled up on it is a snoozing tabby cat. Gabi drags you to the right side of the gigantic room, where a bigger, more elegant table stands in front of a gorgeous library with egg-crate shelves filled with books, finely framed family pictures, candles and white Chinese vases decorated with blue patterns made of dragons, clouds, tree branches filled with tiny flowers.

Of course Gabi has made a mess of the table but you smile as you sit, closer this time, letting her fill you up with the latest details she’s come up with for the now almost ten pages long story. She asks you to produce a few more sketches as she focuses on writing the big conclusion and you abide, the snow globe you have both created sitting in your periphereal view right next to your left arm.

“Are you gonna come over again?” she asks without looking up from the snow covered village she’s coloring in.

“If I’m needed and you don’t mind, sure” you smile, not looking at her either.

“What will we do if I don’t have any other schoolwork?”

“We could bake, start a puzzle, come up with another story to fill one of my killer notebooks in. Whatever you’d like”

This time she does look up to meet your gaze and you’re surprised to see the blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“Next time I could show you my room” she suggests while twisting an orange colored pencil in her hand.

“I’d love that” you smile again and she relaxes on the chair, acknowledging your reply with a slight nod.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re done. The story is complete (Holly eventually turns back into a human but decides not to leave the village he grew up in, to protect his friends and make sure his family of snowmen never melts) and the drawings are a wonderful addition to a heartwarming tale you’re sure her teacher is going to appreciate. You get up and help her tidy up the mess scattered across the table. As paper sheets are neatly piled, glitter pens are reunited with their caps as colored pencils with their box and the table is cleared of colorful shavings, Eren returns from the kitchen with hands buried in the pockets of his pajama bottoms and a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“So? How does Holly’s story end?” he asks, not once looking away from you.

“You’ll have to read it to find out” is the playful reply he gets and Eren crosses his heart that he will, in fact, read Holly Berry’s story. It’s only fair.

“I have to go now” you smile down at Gabi “I’ve had so much fun today, thank you for trusting me with your project”

She opens her mouth in a disappointed expression, hand reaching up to grab your sleeve and lightly pull.

“But we still have to watch that lame movie of yours!” she protests, outraged.

“Hey, I have already asked you to respect Balto” you jokingly reproach her “we’ll watch it next time, promise”

“Please, I want to watch it tonight! I won’t call it lame again!”

“Gabi, it’s really late—”

“Can I bribe you with hot cocoa?” Eren’s voice is softer than expected, which causes you to look at him, startled. Why isn’t he beaming at the idea of you finally leaving?

“With marshmallows” Gabi adds, tugging at your sleeve once again.

“Unless you’re so sick of my little sister you’re anxious to leave as soon as you can”

Low fucking blow.

“So long as I don’t miss the last bus home” you sigh, having barely the time to spare his smirk a glare before Gabi drags you all the way to the couch and promptly runs to the kitchen to get your backpack right after you fall on the soft fabric, waking the cat up. It’s not diffident as you might expect and after carefully sniffing the two fingers you politely offer as a personal introduction, it simply hops on your lap to curl up once again. A soft but demanding meow seems to ask for head scratches and, obviously, there’s nothing left to do but to comply.

“Are you plannin’ on winnin’ over every single Yeager family member?”

You don’t look at him, a weak attempt of playing your uneasiness off as indifference. But if there’s one thing you can’t guess about Eren Yeager, is that he’s in no rush, ever. Contrary to popular belief, he likes taking his time.

He’s not sure what it is about you, a stranger who’s barged in unannounced (well, to him, anyway) only to so effortlessly light up each room they’ve walked into. Someone capable of earning Gabi’s affection in such a short amount of time is bound to intrigue him at the very least, it’s normal, nothing unusual there. Right?

So what could be bothering him so much, he wonders while stirring cocoa powder, sugar, milk and salt in a saucepan. You haven’t been hostile, well, you’ve tried, but you were just unable to keep the facade up. You’ve laughed and smiled and joked and he feels this weird sting in the back of his throat just thinking about how nice of a person you must be on the daily, probably as good as the scent you carry around, and Eren has never wanted something as much as he now wants the book Christa is about to get as a christmas gift.

His hands are certainly big enough to comfortably balance tre mugs to bring to the couch with no risk of spilling but you’re so quick to turn around and reach over to get one, a soft I got it muttered with urgency as you pass the mug to Gabi and extend your hand to grab yours next. It’s probably for the best that his younger sister sits between the two of you and it makes him smile how invested she already is in a movie she didn’t even want to watch in the first place. The smile is still there when you both turn to look at him and laugh, Gabi pointing to his lips as he rolls his eyes and licks them clean of any whipped cream remains.

Gabi’s commentary slowly decreases in frequency and after ten minutes of silence, right as Balto and the sled team finally make it back to Nome, you feel a sudden, light weight on your shoulder. As you carefully take the empty mug out of her hands and place it on the coffee table, next to yours, you whisper an almost inaudible Eren.

“Should’ve guessed” the remark is gentle and there’s fondness in his gaze as he gets up to slowly pick his sister up, her arms finding their way around his neck as he balances her against his shoulder with a small hop.

“Be right back”  he whispers and you hum, briefly allowing your gaze to follow him as he exits the room, headed to the stairs. You get up as well, collect the emptied mugs and take them to the kitchen. Even if it’s late, so late you’ll probably have to find a cab and spend a fortune to reach your house, the least you can do is wash them and put them away. It’s been a long day but you’re not tired, quite the opposite actually. For whatever reason, you feel so on edge all you know is it’s time to leave that weird house, filled with a weird warmth that barely allows you to catch your breath, and get back to the comfort of your bed with its ice blue duvet and soft pillows.

“You’re missing the movie” the weird warmth carrier himself speaks, arms crossed, leaning into the door frame of the room as you dry your hands on your jeans.

“It’s for the best, I always cry at the end” you let out a faint chuckle and he mirrors it with a smile. He’s changed clothes and is now wearing a pair of washed out jeans and a v-neck shirt that has your gaze inevitably flicker to part of his inner forearm tattoo, one you can’t completely see because of how he’s standing. Does he also have one on his collarbone or are you seeing things?

“Before or after Rosy stops by the memorial in Central Park to thank Balto?”

“You’ve watched it! ” it’s hard to suppress the surprised smile immediately stretching your lips, the excitement in your voice. Damn it.

“And cried” he shrugs and you scoff as you walk past him to get your jacket from the coat rack by the front door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it” you put it on and pull the zipper, feeling some sort of discomfort on your back as you reach to grab your scarf too.

He’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, his hands casually slipping past and under the collar of your puffer jacket, fingers warm against your skin, nails only slightly grazing your neck as he fiddles around to pull out the hood of your sweatshirt. His fingers linger by your now feverish skin a few more seconds, definitely more than they should for someone who merely wanted to be of assistance.

Eren’s literally on the verge of asking you to stay. It doesn’t make sense, it’s ridiculous and lowkey pathetic, but he’s oh so bothered by the idea of losing whatever sudden, fragile wire you had managed to tie in the course of one afternoon. He wonders if you feel it, the way he’s so eerily drawn to you. And it’s not just because he hasn’t been laid in weeks (lost a bet to Connie and is now forced to keep it in his pants for a month), it’s not because he likes a challenge nor because he knows he’s been an asshole. You just feel so authentic. Unexpected.

As you let out a quivering breath, green eyes silently asking yours something you absolutely cannot pinpoint, the front door unlocks and your neck is left cold once again.

Eren’s parents come inside, his mom is a little taken aback at first but then puts the pieces together and begins to profusely apologize for both not having warned you that her son was back early and the fact that it’s so late you’ve probably already missed the last bus home.

“Please don’t worry about it, I had the best time with Gabi” you smile shyly, palms raised in an attempt to quell the string of embarrassed apologies threatening to submerge you. Carla looks at her son for some sort of reassurance, brows still distressingly furrowed.

Eren hums from behind you.

“Can’t remember the last time she had so much fun. She’s already asleep”

They both smile and Grisha gives you a soft nod while taking off his coat.

“Thank you. We know she’s not the easiest to deal with”

“Took her ten minutes to win her over” Eren speaks again, he feels closer this time but you don’t dare turn around. Carla puts both her hands on your shoulders and squeezes lightly.

“Please accept an extra for the trouble”

“There’s been no trouble Mrs. Yeager, I promise” you attempt a reassuring smile and she sighs, turning to look at her husband with a troubled look in her big eyes.

“Let us call you a cab at least” phone is already in his hand as he gently pushes back the thin framed glasses on his nose.

“No need dad, I’ll drop her off”

This time you do turn around, mouth open on the verge of objection, but he’s already put a jacket on and has your backpack in his hand.

“Good idea. Take my car” Grisha takes the keys out of the pocket of his now hung coat and casually throws them at his son.

“You really don’t need to” you do your best to sound polite but Eren can see the daggers you’re shooting him and simply smirks, eyes rolling by default.

“Always so polemic” he mutters under his breath as his dad opens the front door once again and there’s really nothing left to do but to sigh into your scarf, repeat ten more times or so that you had a wonderful time with Gabi and you’d be happy to be back whenever they’d need you to and awkwardly return the hug Carla decides to abruptly give you on your way out.

You climb onto the passenger seat of the black mercedes-benz waiting by the end of the driveway and you exhale with relief as your butt comes in contact with the heated leather of the seat.

“I meant it, y’know. I live half an hour away” you mutter while fiddling to fasten your seatbelt. Eren glances at the rear window as he skillfully turns the steering wheel, one hand closing on the gear knob to move the lever gently.

“D’you always protest against everything?” the question is friendly as he releases the clutch pedal and presses on the accelerator. The engine purrs pleasantly underneath you.

“If needed” you shrug, determined to focus on the houses and gardens you’re driving by at a sustained speed. It’s dark enough for you can spot glistening trees by windows and sparkly christmas decorations in yards. You briefly wonder if your dad’s feeling better, good enough to have had a few spoons of the soup you’ve left him.

“You forgot the movie at mine” Eren says, with studied casualness. It’s the perfect excuse to ask you to come over again, or to bring it back himself. Hell, he will hand it to you in the middle of any class if he has to.

“Let it be my christmas gift to Gabi. She never got to see how it ends”

His hand tightens around the steering wheel.

“How’re you so good with kids?”

Finally, you turn to peer at him, head pressed against the warm leather seat. It’s kinda annoying, how he’s wearing a jacket, because you still can’t find out what his tattoo looks like. However, you do take notice of how pretty his nose is, of the shape of his jawline and of how the intermittent, orangy light of street lamps shines on the darkness of his hair, eyebrows, eyelashes. And who even has cheekbones like that?

When his gaze flickers to you with a soft yet amused, questioning hum, you remember he’d asked you a question.

“I used to take care of my brother when dad was at work” you clear your throat, directing your attention to the road in front of you once again “and I like spending time with ‘em. It’s a nice break from adulthood”

He hums again but this time you don’t dare look at him.

“So you’re good with kids, school, great at drawing and cooking. Is there something you’re bad at?”

“So many things” you softly chuckle “besides, you’re good with kids and at drawing too”

“How d’you know? That I’m good with kids”

“Gabi told me you’re the best brother in the world. But you haven’t heard it from me”

“Not really a secret, I already knew that” he sounds cocky but you can guess from his tone that he's smiling. All day long he’s looked at his sister with a fondness impossible to conceal, the kind that stems from pure, raw affection. The kind that soothed you, because how to not be happy before the evidence of Gabi having an older brother that loves her so much? It reminded you of how you used to be with your brother, the way he’d scoff and tell your dad never to leave him with you all day again, only to slide onto the mattress beside you in the middle of the night.

“I wish I still had a little brother to take care of” you find yourself mumbling.

Eren glances at you, to his annoyance you’re still facing the other way.

“How old is he?”

“Old enough to smoke in his room but still dumb enough to think I can’t smell it” you snort and he laughs a genuine laugh. The car stops at a red light, even though the streets are empty. It’s good to know that he drives responsibly, or maybe it’s just because it’s his dad’s car, who knows.

“I’ll have to teach him my ways, he’ll never get caught again” he’s half joking but you pull a face, rolling your eyes.

“You would” it’s inevitable, turning your head to look at him again. It’s also a big ass mistake, because who in hell looks that attractive underneath a basic, red traffic light?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his pitch is amused but the way he’s staring at you almost, almost makes you wince. Okay so, eyes? Dangerous. Note taken. You focus on the bridge of his nose instead.

“You seem like the type of person to do that. Get away with things”

Eren Yeager isn’t one to get insecure. In fact, he doesn’t even remember the last time he has felt uncertainty, or self-doubt. And now he ever so slightly shuffles in his seat, suddenly self-conscious and preoccupied with what you think of him. Not concerned with the superficial thoughts you might have about his cocky attitude or vanity, he’s worried about what you might think of him as a person. How bad does your opinion actually get?

“And you don’t like that” he states, with studied but careful measure. You frown.

“Well, duh. You just volunteered to cover for my brother”

He lets out a puff of air from his nose, both relieved and annoyed at your humor. Guess he’ll have to add deflecting to the list of things you’re good at.

“What did you get him for christmas?” he asks as his eyes are on the road again, the traffic light turning green. Safe from his piercing gaze, you don’t look away yet.

“The new pokemon legends game so he can say I’m the best sister in the world and forget about it ten minutes later” Eren’s smile mirrors yours by default as his grip on the steering wheel relaxes.

“What’s Gabi going to get?”

“A portable speaker, so she can blast Taylor Swift for the whole neighborhood to hear”

“Excellent music taste” you grin and he rolls his eyes with fake exhaustion.

The rest of the trip is comfortably quiet and so peaceful you struggle to keep your eyes open. When the car stops right before your house and you reach across the backseat to grab your backpack, there’s a weird gloom churning in the pit of your stomach. You clear your throat as you unlock the door, one leg already out of the vehicle.

“Thank you” your tone is soft as you glance at him one last time. Eren nods, hands now awkwardly resting on his knees.

You step out of the car and close the door as delicately as possible.

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a)indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Christa, c) hugging your brother until he pinches your hip because he can’t breathe from how tight you're squeezing him, d) cooking and eating and napping on repeat

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) acknowledging that your favorite blanket is nowhere to be found, d) having Eren Yeager call you by your name right after you step out of his car, only to peer at you with staggering eyes and ask

“What are you doing on new year’s eve?”

part 2

[ministarfruit]

"...why would I become a monster?"

[finsterwalds]

finished watching brba today

[timethehobo]

Chilling and waiting for the new roadmap.

[tapakah0]

[gotchibam]

Heyo!! I'm Bam 👋 I'm a small-time artist making a living thru drawing silly lil creechers & characters :) Here's my art tag: #gotchibam arts

You can check out the links below if you're interested in supporting me & my work! 👇

🔸 Tip jar ⟶ Ko-fi 🔸 Prints ⟶ INPRNT 🔸 Discord emotes / Mobile wallpapers ⟶ Ko-fi shop 🔸 Request ko-fi doodles / Commissions ⟶ Ko-fi Commissions 🔸 Queue: Pokemon Doodles / Character Comms / Chibi Comms

You can also find me on twitter w/ the same handle :) 🔸 Twitter ⟶ @gotchibam

Thank-chu & have a nice day!! ✨

[monzterzack]

i think we all moved away from talking about pearl shapeshifting to look like greg too soon

i think we all should collectively stare at this for some more time and fully internalize this

and what it says about pearl and what it says about rose

i think people dont see rose as a person anymore because they are projecting their mommy issues on her, but like… this is some fucked up shit to happen to you as a person

we forget she did all she could with the skills she had at hand

rebecca, REBECCA TELLS US MORE ABOUT ROSE

[robiinurheart33]

Haha wouldn’t it be so weird if when soap was taken and brainwashed he was constantly being compared to this soldier named “ghost” haha

Anyways explicit descriptions of psychological torture and violent intrusive thoughts under the cut

He would be beaten and berated constantly. why wasn’t he stronger than ghost, why wasn’t he faster, more skilled, better, stealthier, healthier.

Ghost could’ve done better in worse conditions.

Ghost has done better in worse conditions.

Why was soap not better even after all this?

It drove him up the wall, the way he would wonder who he was, seething and bleeding by the lip. After all that he’s gone though, all that he’s endured, everything.

Why wasn’t be better? Why can he never, ever be better?

They drove his sanity to the ground, spat and kicked at it until there was nothing but a shell of who he once was, and rebuilt it to fit their ideals. Soap couldn’t remember who he was before this, before the experiments. He couldn’t think, do, say anything without being ordered to do so by someone else.

Some days, soap would pull on the thin stripe down his scalp, eager to find some semblance of control over himself, even if it were pain. He would always get punished.

“It was the only thing he can and will recognise him by.”

“Ghost likes that on you.”

It made him hate the Mohawk even more.

He hates Ghost. He was sick of it. He was done waiting. He was done being compared to. He was done with being second to him. He wanted to pull him apart limb from limb, feel the hot blood spill over his teeth and he rips his throat apart, hear the sickening crunch of his neck being twisted, feel the smooth muscle of his skin ripple and tremble in fear of the one that he was supposedly supposed to be stronger than. Soap will never, ever get anything else in his life but the pure, white-hot rage of revenge. He maybe thinks this had lingered on since he was younger, before everything. It felt like an old friend, more so than his other emotions.

His first mission.

He will be better. He will be better. He will be the best. He will be good. This might be his only shot. This is. He will be the best. He will succeed. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail.

He runs into ghost.

At first, he didn’t know who he was. Soap was in a room with a few others, guns up and masks drawn, ready to shoot anyone who tries to come into the room. They had been infiltrated, and soap wasn’t told more than that. He didn’t really need to know more. Shoot the hostiles, keep people safe. Suddenly, bullets start to rain from outside the door, and soon enough, more and more bodies start hitting the floor. Soap does not panic. He hides behind a bookshelf, waiting.

A big ass motherfucker in a skull mask walks into the room and it looks like the shadows are warping to his presence. Soap does not panic. He reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh, flicking it up and holding it ready. He waits patiently until he stalks near the bookshelf, tightening his grip on the knife. They make eye contact, and through the skull mask stained with blood, he can see jet black eyes staring at him in shock. Death incarnate. Soap does not panic.

“Joh-”

Soap quickly slips out of his hiding spot, wrapping a forearm over his neck and attempting to jab the knife right into his socket. He feels a hand grip tightly onto his forearm, and he goes weightless. All the air escapes his lungs as his back slams against the floor, his head spinning. He screams at himself to get up, fight, be better, before he hears the familiar crackle of a radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Ghost.

This is Ghost.

Ghost just fucking flipped him.

Soap does not panic. He does not panic but he feels a chill go down his spine as he sees red, scrambling back up onto his feet. The adrenaline starts to kick in now, and he lunges at him, ripping the radio off his vest and slamming it on the floor. He’s not completely sure why he did that, but in all fairness soap feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind, if his captors haven’t done so already. He punches Ghost, wincing slightly as his knuckle hit the cheekbone corner of his stupid skull mask. Soap starts to reach for his gun before Ghost punches back, hitting the mask clean off his face, pushing his back to the floor, one hand on his wrists. Soap starts to get really agitated now. After everything that he’s gone through, he’s still not good enough to beat ghost. He still hasn’t improved. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He makes eye contact with Ghost and is slightly taken aback when he is reflected with an equally crazed stare.

“Johnny.”

What the fuck?

Soap doesn’t say anything. Ghost’s eyes are brown, not black. Why hasn’t be killed him yet? Why isn’t Soap struggling? Ghost has blonde eyelashes.

“Where have you been?” To soap’s absolute horror, those brown eyes start to become glossy. He flinches back as if he’s been hit, and grits his teeth. No shit, he’s been here the whole time, where else is he supposed to be?

Soap surges forward and headbutts him in hopes of him letting go. He doesn’t, and it makes soap all the more dizzier, more frustrated. Why isn’t he fucking dead already? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his mind right.

“Johnny. Johnny.” Can he just shut the fuck up? It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate for some reason. Shit. He feels overly exposed without the mask, feeling his body temperature rising steadily.

“Stop calling me that!” he growls out, twisting out of his grip and punching his across the face. The twisted skull mask looks almost comical out of place, but he can still see those eyes. Ghost’s hand comes to cup his cheek, and soap flinches back. His eyes look like Soap just mauled his puppy right in front of him. It makes him freeze in place, head awkwardly hovering between the floor and Ghost.

Images of blood spilling and needles, dirt and coffins fill his head, the sound of a neck snapping, gagging, screams and whimpers. Hands on him, eyes on him, never letting go. Stay. Soap snaps back into place, grabbing the mask and twisting it up, covering Ghost’s eyes. He quickly gets his other hand free and pushes ghost off him, sprinting out of the room.

“Wait-!” Is all he hears before flying down the corridor, back to safety, back to where it’s familiar, where he always is, where he always will be.

Loyalty has always been Soap’s best trait.

[unknownteapot]

the only dm i've ever sent anyone on the smosh cast was this morning, and it was to angela:

[froggydraws]

A cute chimera sewn crooked <- new!!

[moregraceful]

my east coast friends, when they came to visit me in california, would always be like oh my god, kas you live like this? when i drove them on our freeways. kas you know there's a better way to create a highway that isn't needlessly dangerous right?? six lanes wildly unsafe merges for three different highways?? OKAY??? AND??? I JUST PAID OHIO $21.25 TO DRIVE ACROSS THE STATE. TWENTY-ONE AMERICAN DOLLARS. I DROVE FROM CALIFORNIA TO IOWA PAYING ZERO DOLLARS AND NOW ILLINOIS, INDIANA, OHIO, AND PENNSYLVANIA WANT ME TO PAY FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF DRIVING ON AN INTERSTATE? THAT'S A PUBLIC HIGHWAY. FUCK OFF. i think i paid over $40 in tolls across four states and for WHAT. my tempestuous assignation with the capricious i-80 comes to a catastrophic end. i yearn for the stress of a wyoming lightning storm. like bro what is that $21 even paying for?? the nicer rest stops sorry "service plazas"? what?? i don't WANT a clean bathroom and a dunkins, i want a suspect bathroom in a building that looks like it was made by laura ingalls wilder's dad, a beautiful scenic view, and a trucker looking at me appraisingly from across the median!! i want americana and human connection, i don't want a latte made by a teenager that will make my stomach hurt!! "ohhh kas bay area highways are a nightmare there is no reason for it to be this bad" WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY FOR A PUBLIC HIGHWAY. NONE OF US HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS. THE PROBLEM IS USAMERICAN INFRASTRUCTURE!!

[nadhie]

this looks wonky but I've had a fever these past few days so I'm not gonna worry abt it

[2016 redraw]

[trensu]

I set myself a goal to have this fic finished and postedon ao3 by Halloween. As you can tell, I have failed miserably since it's neither finished or posted. In my defense, my hands were in much more pain than usual for most of October and so far November's not looking so great either.

Still, I feel kind of shitty about missing my goal, so I decided to post the first couple of scenes here. This fic is part of the Hawkins Halfway House series and we'll be meeting Billy in it. Enjoy!

Eddie was enjoying a quiet, little Horrors-free day with House. He’d dropped off Max and the Sinclair siblings with Steve in the morning since they hadn’t been able to hang out with Dustin and El for longer than any of the little Horrors deemed acceptable. El had been living with Steve for about a year now, and Dustin nearly twice that long. The transition hadn’t been as painful as expected but the kids were not used to being apart from each other, so an arrangement was reached that every other weekend, the kids could spend the night together either at House or at Junior.

This weekend, the kids had opted to stay at Junior with Steve. Depending on how things went, they might stay longer seeing as the kids were on some extended human holiday weekend as of the night before. If that happened, then Eddie planned on having some slow lazy mornings. However, it was now past lunchtime and he really needed to restock their stores of red meat, thanks to the pair of werewolf cubs in his care. He had very quickly become the local butcher’s favorite customer because of them.

Eddie had just about convinced himself to get going and be a responsible adult when the phone rang. Eddie made his way over to where House decided to keep the phone hooked up this week. He leaned against the wall, already fiddling with the phone cord, as he answered.

“Hawkins Halfway–”

“EDDIE,” Dustin screeched over the phone. “You have to come over right now. Steve is DYING.”

“What?” Eddie asked, bolting upright from where he had slouched. He heard the voices of the other kids over the line.

“He is bleeding. Blood should stay inside humans,” El said seriously.

“Bleeding? Where? What happened?” Eddie asked, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear to free up his hands. He got a bit tangled in the cord in his hurried searching of his pockets for his keys.

“Guys,” Steve’s voice broke through. “Guys, I’m fine. Oh god, Dustin, who are you calling? What did I say about using the phone? Junior, what did I tell you about letting the kids use the phone?”

“This IS an emergency!” Dustin protested, loudly.

“There’s so much blood,” Lucas could be heard in the background. “It’s like that time I ate a rabbit just before the moon set.”

“See, Eddie? HE’S DYING!” Dustin shouted directly into the receiver.

“You called Eddie? Dustin, give me the phone,” Steve said. After a brief scuffle, and what sounded like the handset being dropped to the ground only to get hastily picked up, Steve was speaking directly. His voice sounded funny. “Eddie, hi!”

“What happened? Dustin thinks you’re dying,” Eddie said.

“I’m fine! Nobody’s dying,” Steve said. Then, presumably to the kids, “Give me some room, I don’t want to drip on any of you.”

“Steve, are you bleeding?” Eddie asked, his worry mixing with irritation.

“Yeah, but I’m okay. It’s a bloody nose,” Steve said, which explained why he sounded weird.

“And a bloody mouth,” Lucas added.

“His eye’s busted up, too!” Erica said loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Yes, thank you for that,” Steve said to the kids in that bitchy tone Eddie secretly enjoyed hearing. “Go watch some TV while I talk to Eddie. I promise I won’t fall over dead.”

“I’m coming over,” Eddie decided out loud.

“You don’t have to, honestly, the kids are freaking out over nothing,” Steve insisted.

“You’re due for a home inspection anyway. See you in ten.”

Eddie hung up before Steve could protest.

–

Eddie didn’t have a chance to knock on the door before it slammed open and he was swarmed by the kids.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Lucas told him.

“We couldn’t remember how much blood humans are supposed to keep inside,” El said.

“Yeah, so Dustin freaked out,” Erica snorted derisively.

Dustin started to argue that his concern was legitimate, but Eddie pushed past all of them to get to the kitchen. There, Eddie nearly swallowed his tongue because Steve was indeed in the kitchen. Shirtless. And bent over the sink. The steam rising from the running water dampened his chest hair and made his skin dewy. The muscles in Steve’s arms flexed distractingly as he scrubbed almost violently at a bloodied shirt.

Eddie didn’t have much time to enjoy the view because as soon as he finished processing the vision, he caught sight of Steve’s face. He immediately understood why the children panicked. Steve’s face was a mess. Steve had done his best to clean up most of the blood, but his nostrils were still rimmed with some, and the split lip started to bleed again when Steve looked up at Eddie. The skin around his eye was puffy and bruised.

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said immediately. “No concussion!”

Eddie covered the distance in a few long strides. He reflexively reached out to touch Steve’s face, then pulled back when he realized what he’d been about to do. Eddie had been adamantly ignoring the small crush he was harboring for his kids’ foster parent. Unfortunately, it meant he had to forcibly ignore opportunities to touch Steve as much as possible. In this case, it resulted in Eddie fluttering his hands uselessly around Steve.

“What happened?”

“First, you should know that I handled it and I was already planning on calling you to give you a rundown of the situation. I wanted to clean myself up a bit before calling but that didn’t go as planned, obviously.”

“Steve.”

“I’m fine, really. I’m more worried about Max.” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s whole body tensed.

“What happened to Max?” Eddie asked before it occurred to him, “She wasn’t with the other kids. Where is she?”

“She ran to her room as soon as we got home. She’s kind of shaken up. I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about what happened because the others saw me and were freaking out the whole ride home.”

“I can talk to her,” Eddie said immediately. Steve nodded as if he hadn’t expected anything different, and began to explain what happened.

“I took the kids to the park nearby to burn off some energy before dinner,” Steve said. “Max stayed in the parking lot because she wanted to practice using her skateboard.”

While Steve spoke, Eddie maneuvered himself around the familiar kitchen. He grabbed a clean kitchen towel and dug out an icepack from the freezer. After wrapping it up, he handed it to Steve, who delicately placed it over his eye.

Steve continued to explain how he made sure he settled in a spot that would give him a good view of both the parking lot and the playground. Everything had been going well. All the kids were having fun, although Max had tumbled a couple of times while trying to find her balance on the skateboard. Then Steve had been distracted.

Erica had gotten a bit too into a game of chase. She had started to get a little wolfy around the edges. Lucas had immediately shielded her from view by throwing his hoodie at her face. Steve guided her a farther away from the playground to somewhere more quiet and secluded to give her a moment to calm down. Once she had collected herself, she and Steve rejoined everyone at the playground. Steve had given the playground a quick lookover to make sure everyone was still accounted for, but when he’d looked for Max over at the parking lot, a man was with her.

Steve had been too far away to hear what the man was saying, but the man was way too close to her. Max had frozen in place. If the unknown man approaching her hadn’t been alarming enough, seeing her freeze like that set off all sorts of bells. While Max wasn’t Steve’s foster kid, he knew her well enough by now to know that, when cornered, Max's first instinct was to fight, not flee or freeze.

“I ran over there as soon as I saw what was happening,” Steve told Eddie, as if Eddie would ever doubt him. Steve had a protective streak to rival a werewolf. “By the time I got to them, he had grabbed her by the arm.”

Steve had shoved the man away from her the moment he had gotten within reach. From there it had devolved into a fistfight that left Steve in his current state. Thankfully the other kids were too wrapped up in their playground games to realize what was happening at the time but one of the other parents at the playground had seen and used the nearby payphone to call the police. The cops showed up to break up the fight. As far as Steve was aware, the man who had grabbed Max was taken away by the cops. They took some statements from witnesses, but Steve, to Eddie’s utter lack of surprise, insisted on going home with his kids rather than going down to the station.

Eddie was grateful for that. He had seen how cops treat people they consider less than human, even when they didn't have an ounce of supernatural blood in them. Little Horrors in distress were not always great at keeping their human faces on.

Once Steve finished updating Eddie, he went to reassure the other kids while Eddie made his way to see Max. Eddie had barely stepped into the guest room Junior had made for Max before Max shot to her feet. She was very pale, made even more apparent by the dark red feathers that had sprouted through her hair and along her face. Her hands were rough and clawed.

“He found me,” Max said. “Billy found me. He tried to take me away.”

Eddie swore under his breath. It was just as he had suspected. He didn't think the cops would hold Billy for very long. He had to start planning a defense but first, he wanted to comfort Max, offer some reassurance. He stepped closer to her but slowed his movements at Max’s flinch. Instead, he redirected and leaned against the dresser close to Max. Her jaw was tense. She crossed her arms, clutching at her elbows.

“But he didn’t,” Eddie said firmly. “You’re still here. Steve stopped him and you’re safe.”

Max’s breath hitched.

“Is…is Steve mad at me?” Her claws dug into fabric at the elbows of her hoodie, nervously shredding it. “I have my backpack in the closet. I can leave. If he’s mad.”

“What? No, no, no, Max, Steve’s not mad at you. He’s worried, but he’d never get mad at you for something like this.”

Her voice dropped to a shamed whisper.

“But Billy hurt him so bad. He broke Steve’s face,” her breath hitched again, but she had yet to break into tears. It hurt Eddie to see her try so hard to keep it together. “It's all my fault, he’s going to be so mad.”

“Max Mayfield, listen to me,” Eddie said fiercely. “None of this is your fault. This is all on that hunter. Steve doesn’t blame you and he’s not mad at you.”

She gnawed at her lip, eyes cast down. She didn't believe him, he could tell.

"Billy's going to come back. He’ll hurt Steve again," Max said.

"If that happens, and I'm not saying it will!" Eddie said. Though he knew she was right about Billy. Billy was a stubborn, possessive, and angry man. "But if it does, it still wouldn't be your fault. He's a grown up making his own awful decisions, okay?"

"Okay," she said despondently, though she no longer sounded like she would break into tears.

"I need to let Steve know what to expect but he'll probably come up here after to check on you if you're okay with it."

Max nodded jerkily, not looking at him. Eddie suppressed a sigh. Max had been making so much progress, opening herself up more to others and getting attached to things that interested her. If Eddie hadn’t hated Billy already, the sight Max retreating into herself again because of his reappearance would’ve done it.

"Do you want to be alone? Or do you want some of your friends up here with you?" Eddie asked.

Max shrugged. Eddie glanced over at the unmade bed. The underneath looked darker than it probably should be. He smiled tentatively at Max.

"I think El is already under the bed, so if you want to be alone…"

An oozing black tendril squirmed out from underneath the bed to wrap gently around Max's ankle. Some of the stress that pinched Max’s expression eased at the touch. She easily dropped to the ground and scooched into the cramped space beneath the bed.

“You are safe, Max,” El’s voice hissed from the dark space.

Eddie left the room and closed the door quietly behind him. It was time to fill Steve in on some things he had hoped would never come up.

[skunkes]

quick airing of grievances for something that ultimately isn't a real problem

but Wah its obviously going to be one of my two parents (or both !) taking me to get surgerized and driving me home (if i manage to get it scheduled...🧿🧿🧿) and...! idk...! i wish i still had any irl friends in the vicinity that cld be there...

parents are begrudgingly accepting of it because well it's already in motion, it's My Life and Body, but they obviously won't be ecstatic about it. like.

i keep imagining being in recovery and feeling very excited and happy but having that feeling be squished down and suppressed by their disappointed faces...or wondering how they'll awkwardly Look at me when im back home recovering and hobbling around... like even here I'll feel bad about "doing this to them" and what "went wrong" to make me so disappointing in every possible facet. even though i've fantasized about this since I knew my body was capable of Horrors, have been looking into it since high school, i've been tweeting about wanting it every other week for the past 4 years, etc.

[thebroccolination]

Kit’s in the hospital. :(

[tianhai03]

been wanting to draw luis for a while now

(no context re4r spoilers under the cut)

i just really wanted to draw this if im being honest.