#it still baffles me like i have so many questions and i will never get answers to *why* this was even a thing

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[erensmoonlight]

Roommate Accident

Synopsis. Living with Eren Yeager was never supposed to happen or be complicated, but tension between two roommates turns their once peaceful arrangement into an awkward dance of avoidance and frustration. A casual offer to give her a ride one day sets off a chain of unexpected events, leaving her questioning the boundaries of their relationship. As their interactions grow more intense, she finds herself torn between keeping the peace and exploring something deeper. With a circle of close friends offering unsolicited advice and wild suggestions, she must decide whether to confront her feelings or continue ignoring the growing chemistry between them.

Paring: Eren Yeager x Fem Reader

Content, MDNI: Enemies to lovers, arguments, smut, drinking, oral (f), dirty talk, sex, fluff, one shot, (Lmk if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 9.7K

{ash’s notes} -HI GUYS! This is my first story and if I’m gonna be honest, I’m prettyyyy nervous but excited of course. I hope you guys enjoy reading this because this was lowkey so fun to write, I have so many more stories to think about writing but not sure when I will. Okay I’m just going to be rambling on and on so again please show love to this story and lmk what you think and how it is! Love you all and take care of yourself, MWAHH❤️ minors aren't welcomed! comments + reblogs are appreciated!

College life is back in full swing, and with it comes the sense of purpose I’ve been craving all summer. Don’t get me wrong—being home with family had its perks, but I desperately needed some time to myself. Now, living with Mikasa, I finally have the freedom to do things on my own terms, while still keeping my grades up, of course. It feels like a fresh start, a chance to balance responsibility with the independence I’ve been longing for.

Junior year of college—finally. I know it’s going to be a new challenge, but all I’m hoping for is as little stress and drama as possible. The drive ahead was long, so I kept my goodbyes short and sweet, not wanting to drag it out. As I hit the road, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursed through me. It felt like the start of something big.

After an hour-long drive, I finally arrived at the campus dorms, my excitement bubbling over. I parked the car and hurried to my dorm, practically bursting with anticipation. As I unlocked the door, I noticed a few boxes outside Mikasa’s room—she must’ve just gotten here too. I grabbed the handle, flung the door open, and jumped inside, shouting, “HIII ROOMIE!”

But the smile fell from my face instantly. It wasn’t Mikasa standing there—it was Eren.

“What the actual hell?” I blurted, freezing in the doorway.

“The fuck?” he shot back, looking just as startled as me.

We stared at each other, equally confused by what was happening. "Excuse me, but why are you in Mikasa's room?" I asked with more sass than intended.

"Mikasa?" he echoed, clearly baffled. "This is my room. Dorm 207," he added, grabbing a piece of paper from the desk nearby to show me.

I quickly glanced at my own dorm assignment. There it was—207, plain as day.

"Oh, hell no—“

Call incoming

Just as my brain started to melt down, my phone buzzed. Mikasa’s name flashed on the screen, and I picked up, not even bothering As a greeting. “Where are you, and why is Eren in your room?” I asked, my voice tight with frustration.

On the other end, Mikasa sounded just as bewildered. “Okay, so I was just as surprised when I saw Armin in your dorm, but we figured it out. There was a mix-up with the dorm assignments, and... they can’t change it.”

"WHAT?!" I screamed into the phone, my frustration boiling over. Before I could say anything else, Eren grabbed my phone and echoed my shock with his own confusion, “What?!” He put the phone on speaker

“What the hell do you mean they can’t change it? School hasn’t even started! They have to fix it because I am definitely not rooming with Ms. Control Freak over here,” Eren said, looking me up and down with an irritating look.

I clenched my fists, my patience hanging by a thread. The urge to slap him right then and there was overwhelming. My relationship with Eren was… complicated, to say the least. To keep it short, we never saw eye to eye—we couldn’t stand each other’s lifestyles, let alone the idea of sharing a space.

I see myself as someone organized, who knows how to navigate life with a clear plan, confident in my ability to talk things through and stand my ground when needed. Eren, on the other hand, is the complete opposite—laid-back, spontaneous, and annoyingly carefree. He’s the type who thinks life is meant to be lived without schedules or rules. It’s no wonder we clash constantly; we’re like oil and water.

After a few more minutes of heated back-and-forth, Mikasa’s call finally ended, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, in the middle of what was now our dorm. Eren ran a hand down his face, visibly irritated. I had no idea how we were supposed to survive this.

“Well, if we’re going to make this work, I gotta lay out some ground rules,” Eren announced, and I could already tell this was going to be a joke. “You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Simple as that.” He extended his hand for me to shake as if we were closing some grand deal.

The audacity. “When did we agree on you being the boss?” I shot back.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, giving me an exasperated look.

That only fueled my annoyance. I started rattling off about chores, noise levels, and a bunch of other things that he would absolutely need to respect if we were going to survive living together.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there. Today’s already stressful enough, and I don’t need you adding to my headache,” he said, waving a hand dismissively in my face. The nerve of this guy.

Before I could snap back, he grabbed my shoulders, physically moved me out of his room, and shut the door behind me. “THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER!” I yelled. Silence. Nothing but silence from the other side.

I groaned in frustration, knowing there was no point in arguing with him right now. Instead, I turned my attention to hauling my things inside before it got too dark.

After I finally finished unpacking and getting everything in order, I belly-flopped onto my bed, exhausted and frustrated. All the perfect plans I had for this year were already crumbling thanks to Eren. Sharing a dorm with him was the last thing I expected, and it felt like everything was ruined before it even began.

Now, all I could do was hope things didn’t spiral further out of control. I just hoped—for my sanity—that living with him wouldn’t be as bad as I feared. But deep down, I had a sinking feeling that hope might be too much to ask for.

-

It’s been almost a month since the semester started, and things have been... weird. But weirdly enough, calm—for now. I haven’t seen or heard much from Eren lately, and honestly, I’m not complaining. The only thing that really pisses me off is that he’s a total slob. It’s such a turn-off, especially for someone who looks the way he does. Some nights, I have to wear noise-canceling headphones just to sleep because of his loud, never-ending gaming sessions. I’ve tried to let it slide, but if I have to endure this for an entire year, I’m seriously doubting whether I’ll make it out alive.

“How’s it with Armin?” I asked Mikasa, picking at my food. We decided to hang out after classes, needing some downtime.

“Oh my god, it’s so nice,” she gushed. “We cook together most of the time, split chores, he helps me study when I need it, and every week, we watch these awful reality TV shows together and laugh our heads off.” She kept going, laughing as she spoke, until she noticed my deadpan expression.

“Oh... shit. My bad,” she giggled, trying—and failing—to hide her amusement.

I rolled my eyes at Mikasa’s enthusiasm. “Well, how is it with Eren?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

I sighed dramatically, stabbing at my food before taking a bite. “The complete opposite of your story,” I muttered.

“That bad?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah, that bad,” I said, launching into a full-blown rant about all the irritating things Eren had done over the past month. It felt good to let it all out. “Like, I don’t get what girls see in him. He’s just a pretty face, that’s it.”

Mikasa nodded, somewhat amused. “Well, Eren’s always been laidback about most things. He always says his charm is his best quality,” she shrugged, going back to her meal.

I scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Like that guy has any charm.”

The rest of the day passed by, and after our little venting session, Mikasa drove me back to the dorm. Just as I was getting out, she leaned over. “Oh, before you go—are you going to Jean’s party tonight?”

Ugh. A party. I could already feel the exhaustion creeping in just thinking about it. “Probably not. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do at home, and let’s be real—the chances of Eren being there are ridiculously high, so... yeah, I’m good,” I said with a shrug.

Mikasa looked disappointed, but I could see she understood. “Fine, but you have to go to the next one with me. Promise?”

I laughed and held out my pinky. “Deal. I’ll be there, I swear.”

She grinned and wrapped her pinky around mine. “Deal,” she said with a smile before driving off.

I quickly headed up to my dorm, pushing the door open with a sigh of relief. Looks like Eren’s not here. He’s probably already left for Jean’s party, I thought, grateful for the peace and quiet. A whole night to myself. Finally.

I grabbed a snack and a drink from the kitchen, then wandered into my room. As I put on some music, the weight of the week started to melt away. I removed my makeup and prepared for my long-overdue everything shower. The kind of self-care I hadn’t indulged in for weeks.

After soaking under the warm water for what felt like forever, I got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and began my skincare routine, singing along to my favorite songs. It felt amazing to be alone and completely in my element.

With my skincare finally on my face, I debated whether to stay up and do something productive or just crash for the night. Nah, I’ll just sleep, I decided, already feeling the exhaustion creep in. I slipped into a pair of soft sleeping shorts and a baggy tank top, sinking into my bed.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber, relishing the calm while it lasted.

BANG

I jolted upright in bed, my heart racing as I glanced around, trying to figure out what had startled me awake. What the hell? I whispered to myself, straining to listen. It could be Eren-I really hoped it was, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. But then I heard something worse: muffled laughter, followed by unmistakable kissing sounds. Oh no. Scratch that, I hope it's a killer.

Eren's door slammed shut, and I clung to the hope that maybe-just maybe-it would all stop there. I tried to force myself back to sleep, convincing myself that I could ignore it. I was so close to drifting off again when the low moans started, followed by soft curses. My eyes flew open, and I groaned into my pillow, Please, for the love of all things, let this nightmare end.

It didn't. The sounds got louder, the bed rhythmically slamming against the wall. I grabbed my headphones, shoved them over my ears, and stuffed a pillow on top of my head, trying to block out the never-ending torture happening just feet away. I lay there, my regret over every life decision that led me here slowly consuming me. This was going to be a very, very long night.

So bright. I blinked against the harsh light streaming through the window, rubbing my eyes. Barely an hour of sleep after a night of absolute torture. The girl had left about twenty minutes ago, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep. Coffee. That’s what I need.

Dragging myself out of bed, I slipped into my slippers to avoid the cold floor and trudged to the kitchen. The coffee was brewing, and I was almost in the clear when I heard Eren’s door creak open. Groaning internally, I rolled my eyes and tried to hurry, hoping to avoid whatever awkward conversation was coming. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fished the creamer out of the fridge. Footsteps approached behind me.

“Hey, roomie,” Eren’s voice chimed, way too cheerful for my liking. Don’t punch him, don’t punch him, I chanted silently, eyes fixed on the coffee machine, willing it to finish faster.

“Wow, you look horrible,” he commented, pouring himself a cup with a grin. I shot him a glare.

“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t get any sleep last night,” I muttered, finally pouring my coffee and moving to the table to prepare it. Eren laughed, probably remembering the obnoxious noise from last night. This annoying asshole.

“Didn’t realize you were here. My bad” he said, not sounding sorry at all while grabbing the creamer next to me, a smirk still playing on his lips.

I am not going to survive this year.

“I don’t care what you do, just have some fucking decency,” I shot back, sipping my coffee as I walked back to my room. I could feel Eren’s eyes on me, but I didn’t turn around. Shutting the door behind me, I set the mug on my nightstand and groaned at the thought of the day ahead. No sleep, two essays due, and classes to sit through. Today is going to suck.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, got dressed in something comfy but cute, and grabbed my things. Heading back to the kitchen, I filled a water bottle and rinsed out my coffee mug—then, Unwillingly, Eren’s dirty dishes too. Just as I finished, I heard his door creak open again. Speak of the devil.

“Thanks for washing those,” he said nonchalantly, rummaging through the fridge. “I probably wasn’t going to do it anyway.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a retort. As I dried my hands with a paper towel, he asked, “Want me to give you a ride to school?”

I blinked, caught off guard. What? “No, I’m good,” I replied sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to deal with the dirty looks from all your fangirls.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” he responded dryly, clearly unamused.

Great start to the day, I thought as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, not sparing him another glance.

Eren’s footsteps echoed behind me as I stormed off. “You don’t have to back down on my offer—it still stands,” he called out, clearly amused. His voice alone made my blood boil.

Without even turning to face him, I snapped, “You know what offer would actually be great? How about you shut the fuck up at night, pick up your own shit, clean your own damn dishes, and maybe grow some balls while you’re at it?” My voice trembled with frustration, the words flying out before I could even stop them.

I expected him to have some snarky comeback. And, of course, he didn’t disappoint. Eren rolled his eyes, scoffing like my words barely registered. But then, in an instant, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him.

“Oh yeah? Let’s talk about you,” he shot back, his voice louder, angrier. “How about you stop having a stick up your ass and acting like you’re my damn mother, stop meddling in my business, and just fucking stop being a damn control freak if a fucking cup isn’t placed in the right spot”

We stood there in the middle of the parking lot, glaring at each other like two wild animals ready to tear each other apart. The tension was palpable, our frustrations bubbling to the surface in a messy, chaotic explosion.

I laughed, but it wasn’t out of amusement—it was out of sheer, exhausted frustration. “I get it, you want that laid-back college life, no responsibilities, carefree and easygoing? That’s not me. I can’t live like that Yeager, so you just have to fucking deal with me.”

I stepped closer, my eyes boring into his. “And if you can’t handle it, then go dorm with someone else. Hell, sneak out and find someone willing to put up with your shit. I don’t care. But don’t expect me to change.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, refusing to look back. Let him stew in his own arrogance. I was done.

After that intense moment with Eren, I decided to walk to campus alone. I didn’t care how long it took, I just needed to cool off, to breathe. The crisp morning air helped, but the frustration still lingered, swirling around in my head. By the time I made it to my first class, I was already dreading being there. But skipping wasn’t an option—I needed to do well. I sighed, taking out my things and finding a corner seat, hoping to be invisible for the rest of the period.

As I was pulling out my notebook, I felt someone sit down next to me. Turning to see who it was, I saw Armin, offering me a friendly smile. "Hey, no one’s sitting here, right?" he asked politely.

“No, don’t worry, you’re good,” I replied, grateful for the company. At least Armin was easy to deal with.

The class started, and after a while, we were given some time to work individually. I dove into my assignments, trying to focus, when Armin spoke up. "You and Eren got into an argument, didn’t you?"

I froze mid-sentence, turning to face him. “How do you know?” I asked, surprised but not totally shocked. Eren had a big mouth.

Armin stopped typing and glanced at me. "He picked me up this morning, and I could tell something was off. When I asked him what was wrong, he kind of… exploded about you. He was pretty worked up."

I groaned internally, rubbing my forehead. "God, I hate him," I muttered. "I don’t get why you’re friends with him. He’s like the devil himself."

Armin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He’s not all that bad, I promise."

I scoffed at that, going back to my paper. "Then what do I do? I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to strangle him."

Armin turned back to me, a thoughtful look on his face. "You just need to give him a chance. Yeah, he can be frustrating, but I swear, if you get past that, you might actually find something you like about him."

I rolled my eyes, thinking, Yeah, like when he shuts up. But I couldn’t help considering what Armin was saying. He made it sound so easy like Eren was just misunderstood or something. Still, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give him a chance when he seemed to go out of his way to drive me crazy.

I sighed, “I don’t know, Armin. It feels like I’m the only one trying here. He doesn’t give me any reason to want to make this work.”

Armin smiled sympathetically. "Maybe he’s not great at showing it, but trust me, he’s not as indifferent as he seems."

I nodded half-heartedly, not fully convinced. As much as I hated to admit it, Armin had a point—there had to be something redeemable about Eren. I just wasn’t sure I was willing to dig deep enough to find it.

Just as I was about to respond to Armin, the bell rang, cutting our conversation short. We both quickly packed up our things. “Just think about what I said, okay? Let me know how it goes,” Armin said as we parted ways. I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how to even start. We said our goodbyes and headed in opposite directions to our next classes.

Finally, lunch arrived. Mikasa had texted me earlier to meet at the cafeteria, so I made my way over. Spotting her quickly, I saw her waving her arm at me from across the room. I hurried over and sat next to her, taking the seat at the edge of the table. “Hey guys,” I greeted with a smile, placing my things down. The usual group was there—Mikasa, Sasha, Annie, Connie, and Niccolo.

As soon as I sat down, we were all deep in conversation, laughing about the most random things. Connie groaned dramatically, slumping over the table. “Ugh, I’m totally going to fail Mr. Ackerman’s class. It's like he’s speaking some alien language,” he grumbled, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Sasha, in her usual fashion, was busy shoveling food into her mouth as she snuggled up next to Niccolo. "Yeah, I don’t know how to help you with that, buddy," she managed to say between bites, drawing more laughs.

Just as we were settling into our groove, Jean, Armin, and Eren walked up to the table. Jean slid in next to Connie, while Armin took the seat next to Annie, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Eren, to my mild annoyance, sat down next to Armin, but I tried to ignore him, focusing on my drink instead.

“Why the hell did you guys take so long?” Connie asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair.

“Don’t look at me,” Jean quickly replied, jabbing a thumb toward Armin and Eren. “These two took forever talking about something.”

Talking? About what? I wondered, sipping my drink to cover my curiosity. I glanced briefly at Armin, who seemed to give me a look that said, I’ll tell you later. Eren, on the other hand, was focused on picking at his food, not making eye contact with anyone. Whatever it was, I could feel tension lingering between us, like unfinished business hanging in the air. But right now, surrounded by friends and laughter, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with it.

Mikasa squeezed my arm, her excitement contagious. "Oh my god, we need to go do something soon! I’ve been dying for some girl time." Before I could respond, Sasha perked up, practically bouncing in her seat. “Ooh, ooh, me and Annie too!” she added loudly, making Annie chuckle as she gave a small nod of agreement. Mikasa smiled and nodded, and we all quickly made plans for next week. It felt good to look forward to something light and fun, especially after the chaos of the morning.

As we continued talking, I found myself glancing over at Eren, who was in deep conversation with Armin and Annie. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed serious, their faces unusually focused. I looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of curiosity.

“Shit, time’s almost up,” Niccolo suddenly announced, snapping us all out of our conversations. Everyone checked their phones for the time. Some of us had one more class left, while others, like me, were done for the day. I silently celebrated the fact that I didn’t have any more obligations. We all began packing up and saying our goodbyes, and I decided to take the long way home, wanting to enjoy a walk with my music.

While I was about to start walking away from campus, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled out one earbud and turned around, already dreading who it might be. Of course, it was Eren.

I sighed and, without a word, put my earbud back in, continuing to walk. But he wasn’t letting me go that easily. "Wait," he called after me. I stopped but didn’t bother turning around this time. “What?” I asked, my tone flat, trying to keep the distance between us.

"Come on, I’ll give you a ride," he offered. I shot back with a quick, “No thanks,” and started walking again. I really didn’t want to deal with him right now.

But then he grabbed my arm and spun me around, clearly more frustrated than before. “God, if you keep walking, I swear...” he muttered, closing his eyes for a second as if trying to control his temper.

I yanked my arm out of his grip and crossed them over my chest. “What is it, Eren?” I asked, exasperated.

“Let me give you a ride as an apology. For this morning,” he said, softer now, looking at me more earnestly. “We literally live together.” I stared at him, weighing my options. I really wanted to say no, to just keep walking and avoid the whole situation. But Armin’s words from earlier crept into my mind. Maybe this could be the start of finding that “something” Armin seemed so sure I’d like about Eren.

“Fine,” I muttered, feeling like I might regret this decision but going along with it anyway.

He led the way to his car, and we both got in, the tension settling in as soon as the doors closed. The awkwardness between us was suffocating, and I instantly regretted not just walking home. The car felt too small, like the air was thicker, and the silence was far from comfortable. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and rested my head against the seat, turning to look out the window. The sound of the engine humming was the only noise, and it only made the silence feel heavier.

The longer we drove in that silence, the more anxious I felt. My fingers tapped lightly on my knee as I tried to distract myself, but all I could think about was how I just wanted this ride to be over. I thought about breaking the silence but I didn’t even know where to start. Every second dragged on, my thoughts running wild, wondering what he was thinking, and why he insisted on driving me. But mostly, I wondered how much longer this silent, awkward drive would last.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, stealing a quick glance at Eren out of the corner of my eye. He had his hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white, and his jaw was clenched like he was holding something back. I could tell he wanted to say something, but knowing Eren, he’d probably just stay stubbornly quiet. The silence between us stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“So… you’ve been pretty quiet,” I said, breaking the ice, my voice sounding a little shakier than I wanted it to. I didn’t even know why I was trying to make small talk. Maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was what Armin said earlier, not sure.

He didn’t respond immediately, and for a second, I thought he was going to keep ignoring me. Then, without looking at me, he spoke. “I didn’t mean to piss you off this morning,” he muttered, his voice low, almost like he was trying not to be overheard by his own thoughts.

That caught me off guard. I didn’t expect an apology, not from Eren. He usually doubled down or shrugged things off like they didn’t matter. “You didn’t piss me off,” I said, almost reflexively, but even I knew that was a lie.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “Don’t lie. I know I did. I get it. I’m messy, I’m loud, and I don’t pick up after myself. But it’s not like you’re perfect either, you know?” His voice had an edge to it, but there was something softer underneath, something that almost sounded like guilt.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to keep arguing, to tell him he had no idea how difficult he made things for me, but another part of me wanted to understand why he was even bothering to apologize now. I opened my mouth to speak but then closed it, feeling the lump in my throat rising.

“I didn’t say I was perfect,” I finally admitted. “I’m just… tired, Eren. Tired of all of it.” My voice was quiet, almost defeated, as I stared out the window again. “I didn’t come here to play house with you or deal with this constant tension between us. It’s exhausting.”

The car fell back into silence, but this time, it wasn’t the same awkward, heavy silence as before. It felt different like both of us were waiting for the other to say something real for the first time.

Eren’s grip on the steering wheel loosened a little. “I know,” he said softly. “I didn’t expect to… I don’t know, live like this either. I thought it’d be different. Easier.” His voice trailed off for a moment, and I could see him wrestling with his thoughts.

I turned to look at him, my eyebrows knitting together. “Then why do you act like you don’t care? Like none of this matters to you?” The frustration was clear in my voice now, bubbling up from everything I’d been holding back for so long.

Eren took a deep breath. “I do care,” he said quietly. “It’s just… I’m not good at showing it. Not with all this other stuff going on.” He paused, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road. “There’s more happening than just you and me fighting over dishes and who’s more responsible. I’ve got my own shit to figure out.”

His words caught me off guard again. I knew Eren had his own struggles, but he’d never been the type to talk about them. He always kept things bottled up until they exploded in moments like this morning.

For a second, I considered asking him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was just knowing that neither of us was ready to really open up yet. Instead, I let out a sigh and leaned back in the seat.

“We’ve got to figure something out,” I said quietly, almost more to myself than to him. “This isn’t working.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “I’ll try harder. But I need you to meet me halfway.”

The tension between us hadn’t completely disappeared, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were actually getting somewhere. Maybe it wasn’t a solution, not yet, but it was a step. And that was more than I’d expected when I got into the car with him.

I was going to answer back, but it seemed like we already made it back to the dorm, so I just kept quiet for now. After that talk, things started getting a bit more normal, I think? Even though we’d been giving each other space, I couldn’t help but wonder if things were really as normal as they seemed. The lack of arguing didn’t mean things were fixed, and I knew ignoring the tension wouldn’t make it go away. I sighed, brushing away the thoughts of Eren as my phone buzzed again with more messages from the girls’ group chat. Tonight was supposed to be a break from everything, a night to let loose and enjoy myself, but my mind was stuck on him.

MIKA: Okayyy are you guys ready??

MIKA: Omg, we need to take a ton of pictures tonight!

Me: YES, just gotta put my shoes on

SASH: Girl, I’m already dressed and looking too fine, Annie is with me and also ready to goooo.

HISTORIA: Ymir and I are ready as well, and we’re bringing drinks for pregame 🥂.

MIKA: Okay here’s how it's going to go, First I pick up Sasha and Annie, then Historia and Ymir, then lastly Eren’s lover! Okay, we are good to go🥳

Me: Excuse me who are you picking up last?

HISTORIA: ooo did we miss anything??

YMIR: Spill now.

MIKA: 🙄

MIKA: yk we are going to talk about it

Me: Yeah I think I’m going to make a rain check for this girl's night

MIKA: No you're not ☺️, Leaving my house right now, I’ll be there in 10 so get your cute ass ready 💋.

I rolled my eyes, but a small grin tugged at my lips. If anyone could pull me out of a funk, it was Mikasa and the rest of the girls. Despite the swirling thoughts about Eren, I knew tonight would be fun, and maybe that’s what I needed to stop overthinking for a bit.

Grabbing my jacket and bag, I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror. Satisfied with my outfit and makeup, I headed to the kitchen for a quick snack—no way was I about to drink on an empty stomach. I grabbed a bag of chips, poured some into a bowl, and leaned against the counter while snacking. As I reached for another handful, a few chips slipped through my fingers and scattered on the floor. I sighed and bent down to pick them up.

Just then, Eren’s door swung open. I froze, hearing his voice cut through the silence. He was on the phone.

“Armin, I’m serious about this,” he said, clearly frustrated, pacing in the living room. Armin’s voice was faint, but I could still make out his response.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But you’re acting like it’s a big deal. She’s just a person, man. Talk to her like an adult,” Armin laughed.

“I swear I’ll come over and beat the shit out of you,” Eren replied in an eerily calm tone.

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Armin muttered.

There was a long pause, and then Eren spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I don’t know, man. Ever since that conversation in the car, I’ve had this weird feeling in my chest. It’s driving me insane. That’s why I’ve been ignoring her.”

My heart nearly stopped. Was he talking about me?

I stayed frozen, crouched on the floor, not wanting him to know I’d overheard. But of course, the universe had other plans.

RING. RING. RING.

My phone blared to life, Mikasa’s name lighting up the screen. I panicked, fumbling to silence it, but it was too late. Eren’s footsteps stopped, and I could feel him staring at me. Slowly, I stood up and turned to face him. His expression was a mix of shock and embarrassment as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“I-I thought you left,” he stammered, hanging up his own call.

“Uh, yeah… I was just about to.” I grabbed my things in a rush, my mind racing for an exit strategy.

“Wait, hold on,” Eren said, his voice softer now, as if he wanted to explain.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. I’m sorry. Can we talk about it later? I really need to go.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, sounding just as awkward as I felt.

Without another word, I bolted for the door, not daring to look back.

As soon as I was out the door, my heart was racing. I couldn’t believe I had just overheard Eren talking about me like that, and worse, he knew I’d heard. The whole situation felt surreal. I was barely processing his words, let alone my own feelings about what I’d just witnessed. That “weird feeling in his chest”? What did that even mean? And why did it bother him so much? My mind was spinning as I rushed down the stairs and out of the building.

Mikasa’s car pulled up just in time, the headlights flashing as she waved at me from the driver’s seat. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness that was still lingering from the interaction with Eren. Getting into the car, I forced a smile, hoping she wouldn’t immediately sense that something was off.

“Ready to party?” she asked, her usual excitement shining through. The girls in the backseat echoed her enthusiasm with cheers and chatter, making it impossible not to smile at least a little.

“Yeah, totally,” I replied, though my voice felt far from convincing. I tried to immerse myself in the energy of the car, but Eren’s words kept replaying in my mind. Why was he feeling weird? Why had he been ignoring me because of it?

As we drove off, I leaned back in my seat, glancing out the window, hoping the night out would help me forget about it for now. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t something that would just go away.

“Here, drink this!” Sasha said, thrusting a cup into my hand. I took it, confused. “Wait, we’re drinking already?” I glanced around at the group, noticing everyone nodding enthusiastically—everyone except Mikasa, of course.

Without much hesitation, I took a sip, letting the alcohol work its magic and pushing my worries to the back of my mind. A few more minutes passed, and we finally parked.

“AHH, we’re here!” Mikasa squealed, grabbing my hand and jumping excitedly. We’d decided to hit up one of the most popular bars in the city for our girls’ night out, and with the alcohol starting to hit me, I was just as excited as she was.

After flashing our IDs, we stepped inside, the heavy bass of the music pulsing through our bodies. Our first stop was the bar, and the night took off from there—two hours of drinking, laughing, dancing, and just letting loose. Eventually, we stumbled to a booth at the back of the bar, another round of drinks in hand.

“Damn, Annie, I didn’t know you could dance like that! Armin is one lucky guy,” Sasha teased, making Annie laugh and wave her hand dismissively.

“Omg, you know what we should talk about?” Historia slurred, clearly tipsy. We all turned to her, curious. Her gaze landed on me. “You,” she said, pointing a wobbly finger in my direction.

“RIGHT! What’s up with this ‘Eren’s lover’ thing? Are you two dating or what?” Ymir asked, smirking as she took a sip of her drink.

I scoffed, “NO.”

“Not yet,” Mikasa added, grinning mischievously.

I groaned and put my head down on the table. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s complicated. We’re basically ignoring each other right now, and when we do talk, it’s just *hiccup* awkward.”

Mikasa leaned in, her voice soft but serious. “Look, I’ve known Eren my whole life. That man is crazy about you.”

“Yeah, crazy enough to drive me crazy,” I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes.

But to my surprise, Annie spoke up. “I gotta agree with Mikasa. I’ve seen it myself.”

I lifted my head and looked at her, surprised. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Ooo, this is getting good,” Sasha said, leaning in closer to Historia, while Ymir pulled Historia closer to herself as if they were settling in for some drama.

Annie smiled slyly. “Remember the day he offered to drive you home? That was because Armin and I pushed him to do it. He was nervous about asking you himself.”

I blinked in disbelief. “Nervous? About me?”

Sasha grinned. “Well, well, seems like Eren’s not as smooth as he pretends to be.”

The whole table erupted in laughter, but my mind was spinning. Eren, nervous? Over me? I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it added a layer to things I hadn’t seen before.

“You know what would solve all your problems with Yeager?” Ymir asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. I turned to her, my face full of confusion. “You two just need to fuck.”

I choked on my drink, coughing as I shook my head. Well, that sobered me up real quick. “No, no, absolutely not. That’s not gonna happen,” I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“Why not?” Sasha chimed in, wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Yeah, I kind of agree with Ymir,” Historia said, nodding.

Annie, who had been quiet for a while, just smirked and shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

Great, now I was officially cornered by my friends, all focused on my complicated relationship with Eren. The rest of the night became a blur of drinks and conversations about him—lucky me. By then, I had switched to water, trying to sober up before the night ended.

Around 2 a.m., we decided to call it quits. Ymir, who could hold her liquor like a pro, drove us all home. After she dropped me off, I waved my goodbyes, rolling my eyes at their teasing “good luck” wishes.

Climbing the stairs to my apartment, my mind replayed the night’s conversations, particularly Ymir’s blunt suggestion: You guys need to fuck. I shook my head, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. “Absolutely not,” I muttered to myself.

I unlocked the door quietly, stepping inside. The place was dark, which meant Eren had probably gone to bed. I sighed with relief—no awkward encounters tonight. But as I flicked on the kitchen lights, I jumped at the sight of Eren sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty beer cans.

A small scream escaped me, causing him to stir and sit up groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh my god, you scared me,” I gasped, my heart still racing.

Eren blinked a few times, looking around before his gaze settled on me. “Sorry,” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next, the tension in the air thickening as the awkwardness between us returned.

“What time is it?” he asked, standing up and stretching, giving me a glimpse of his stomach. I quickly looked away, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my chest.

“2:10,” I muttered quietly. He groaned while picking up the empty beer cans, and tossing them into the bin on the other side of the kitchen.

“You were out for that long?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.

“Why does it matter to you?” I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. My eyes dropped to the floor, trying to avoid looking at him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back. I need to explain that phone call… it’s been eating at me.”

Ugh, no, please. Not tonight.

“Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted,” I said, slipping off my heels, realizing I’d forgotten to leave them at the front door.

“Just listen to me,” he said, ignoring my plea as he launched into his explanation, rambling on about the call. But my mind was elsewhere—on Ymir’s stupid suggestion. I don’t want to sleep with him. He’s irresponsible, reckless, irritating, and infuriating. And his stupid, gorgeous face. His perfect lips. Wait—no. Stop it.

“Are you even listening?” Eren’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was leaning forward now, his arm resting on the table, his face inches from mine.

“Huh?” I blinked, trying to focus.

He sighed in frustration, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

I shrugged, meeting his gaze. “I’ve heard.”

The tension between us was unbearable, thick enough to suffocate. We just stared at each other, the silence stretching until it felt like something had to break.

Finally, I stood up, breaking eye contact. “Well, if this conversation’s over, I’m going to my room.”

I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, Eren grabbed my arm and spun me around. Without warning, his hands cupped my face, and in an instant, his lips crashed into mine.

The frustration and tension between us melted away, replaced by a sudden surge of desire. I melted into him, my fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. It was filled with passion, with urgency. Eren’s hands slid to my waist, pulling me even closer as the heat between us intensified. It felt good—too good.

Wait, no. This isn’t right.

I pulled back, my lips still tingling from the lingering sensation of his. Looking up at him, I saw the confusion in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand resting on my hip.

“N-No… this can’t happen,” I stammered, taking a step back, though I already regretted leaving his warmth. “This whole situation is confusing enough, and this… this will only make it worse.”

He sighed, his gaze still locked on mine, intense and unwavering. The silence between us stretched, awkward, and charged with the things we weren’t saying. Slowly, Eren stepped forward, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear before cupping my shoulders and pulling me in once again.

But this time, it wasn’t for a kiss on the lips.

He kissed my forehead, soft and slow, then my nose, my cheek, my jaw, and finally my neck. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering, and my breath hitched as his lips moved lower. His hands followed, trailing down my body with maddening precision. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Eren was intoxicating, overwhelming every corner of my mind and soul.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered against my neck, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. His kisses grew more intense, and I snapped back to reality, realizing just how deep I was falling.

Oh god.

The kisses trailed higher once again, prompting me to wrap my arms around his neck. He stared at me, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you want this?" Without thinking, I blurted, "Fuck yes."

A smile played on his lips as he claimed mine once more, his need growing with every passing second. Just as I was about to pull back and suggest we move to his room, he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped my ass, lifting me effortlessly as he strode towards my room. This Fucker. The door slammed shut behind us, and he laid me down on the bed, breaking the kiss to gaze down at me. I panted, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

"God, you drive me crazy, you know that," he murmured, his lips returning to my neck in a passionate kiss. I couldn't help the small moan that escaped me, lost as I was in his touch, his words, his games. Maybe I should have been embarrassed by how easily he got under my skin, but at that moment, I simply didn't care.

He pulled back yet again, leaving me breathless and wanting. Before I could even process my thoughts, he'd stripped off his shirt and tossed it across my room. Any words I might have had abandoned me, leaving me staring at his incredible physique in stunned silence. "Wow, all of this finally gets you to shut up for a second, maybe I should’ve fucked you earlier" he teased, pulling me upright and claiming my mouth in another scorching kiss. His hands found the zipper of my dress and slid it down, the sound echoing in the room.

He slipped the dress over my head, his hands gentle as he eased me back onto the bed. "Yeah, you should’ve," I finally managed to retort, my voice muffled against his lips.

His hands moved behind my back once more, but this time, his focus was on my bra. With a practiced touch, he unfastened it with a single hand. "How many girls have you done that to?" I teased, trying to sound collected despite the flutter in my chest. "Does it matter?" he countered, his voice low and husky. "The only person I'm going to do it for from now on is you baby."

He slid the bra straps down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin and sending shivers through me. As he bared me to his gaze, he leaned in, his lips tracing a path from my collarbone to the swell of my right breast. "Oh, gosh, Eren," I breathed, his warm tongue setting my nerves ablaze. He didn't neglect my left side, his hand cupping and squeezing my flesh as his mouth worked its magic.

My mind was short-circuited, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me. I couldn't believe how my day had derailed, from waking up alone to Eren worshiping my body. He finally lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with desire as he stood and licked his lips. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, then my lips, the contact making me ache for more.

My hand instinctively reached for him, finding the hard length of his erection straining against his pants. He groaned into my mouth, his hips rolling into my touch as he pressed himself against me. "F-Fuck," he panted, laughter threading through the curse. He guided my hand deeper into his hard length, then higher to explore his chest, his nipples peeking under my touch, then lastly to his lips, where he pressed light kisses to the middle of my palm. At that moment, I knew I was a goner.

He gently laid my hand back down to my chest. Standing upright, he began to unbutton his pants, swiftly removing them. For a moment, I felt no shame in staring. But then I met his gaze, his eyes watching my every move, and a flutter of anxiety rose in my chest. I wasn't sure where to look next.

He bent back down, his lips brushing against my jaw as his hands slid lower, to the hem of my panties. "May I?" he asked, his voice soft. I nodded without hesitation. "I need words, baby," he said, looking back at me with an intense heat in his eyes. "Yes," I replied quickly. "Yes, please."

Eren pressed one more sweet kiss to my lips, his mouth trailing lower and lower as he slid my panties down my legs. He moved lower, his face inches from mine, his lips pressing gentle kisses around my center. I felt myself growing wetter, my breath catching. "Eren, please," I begged, my fingers tangling in his hair.

"Please what? What do you need sweet girl?" Eren asked, looking up at me. His nicknames always made my heart flutter, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud. I took a deep breath, pushing past my embarrassment. "I need you to fuck me," I admitted. "I need you inside me."

He didn't make me wait for his response. With a groan, Eren's tongue slid along my center, sucking my clit into his mouth as he spread my legs wider. I cried out, my hips arching off the bed. "Holy shit, Eren, don't stop," I begged and whined, my fingers pulling him closer. He moaned against me, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me. I hadn't felt this good in years.

Eren didn’t stop, and it felt so fucking good. It just went on with his tongue for a few more minutes, my whole body in bliss, pulling me closer to my climax. “Fuck Eren, it's so good, your so good,” I said moving my hips to match his pace, moaning too loud. I bit my lip looking down at him between my legs, then I noticed his hips slowly rolling onto my bed. Before thinking anymore he pushed a finger into me, pushing it in and out. “Cumming, I’m cumming, FUCK!” I said whining, my knees buckled while going through my high. He left my core, all swollen and wet.

My eyes started to shut, exhaustion was hitting me pretty fast after calming down. “Hey hey,” Eren said kissing my face, his kisses were soft, yet filled with a fiery passion that sent shivers down my spine. “Just a little longer, Do sleep yet baby” I opened my eyes, “We still aren’t done yet”.

He chuckled, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” I rolled my eyes playfully, but the affection in his gaze made my heart flutter.

Kissing me again, I could taste myself on him and I basically melted in his touch. Wrapping my arms around him, I savored the moment.

“I can’t wait any longer,” I whispered, my hands starting to trail down his abs, moving lower to his underwear band. Without hesitation, I pulled it down not wanting to wait, eager to finally feel him. He helps me and yanks it off of him. The sheer size of his dick made me worried on if it will fit or not. I gripped the tip softly and he bucks his hips instantly, “Shit” He said closing his eyes and encouraging me to continue.

While doing that I swiftly grabbed a condom from my drawer giving it to him. “You just have these laying in your room?” he spoke out while tearing it open, moving my hand away and rolling it on himself, “You never know, always gotta be safe,” I said while holding on to his arms for support. “Even during sex your just as a goody to shoes” making me frown, “Kidding, It’s cute baby” he smiled kissing me while rubbing his tip in between my cunt.

"I'll go in slow, okay? Let me know if it hurts," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine.

"O-Okay," I managed to say, breathless and nervous.

He started with his tip, and we both groaned in pleasure. The pain was there, but it felt so good. Inch by inch, he went deeper, and my eyes rolled back with every second. His fingers gripped my thighs as he finally bottomed out. His face was in my neck, breathing heavily, and I had my hands around his back, ready for him to move.

Without a word, he started thrusting harder and harder. "F-Fuck," he gasped. "You're so t-tight and warm, fuckkk." He rolled his head back, grabbing both my legs and placing them on his shoulders.

"So good, fuck Eren!" I exclaimed, grabbing his face in my hands.

"Yeah? You like it when I fuck your greedy pussy like this?" he asked, thrusting harder. I couldn't breathe anymore. I nodded fast.

"Yes, yes, your fucking dick feels amazing, oh my god," I moaned uncontrollably.

I felt close, but I knew I never wanted this to end.

It was too much—overwhelming, yet I savored every second of it. My heart raced, and I found myself biting down on my finger, then my hand, my lip—anything to try and ground myself in that moment. But it was all too good, scrambling my brain, leaving no room for coherent thoughts or words. I was lost, completely consumed by the sensation, and I didn’t want to find my way back.

“S-Shit if you keep squeezing me like that I’ll fucking cum, ughh” he groaned picking up his pace basically making me lose all my air. “E-Eren mhmm!” Moans escaping my mouth every second I have a desire to open my mouth. “Yeah keep screaming my name out like that baby” he said pushing his head in the curve of my neck, his cock was abusing my cunt, I didn’t know if I can take this much longer.

The little noises he let out in my ears is what did it for me, making me cum hard and fast. My nails clawing erens back made me lose my mind, then seconds later I felt eren finish into the condom whining in my ear.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, both of us still tangled together, with Eren still inside me. I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to face reality just yet. I had just slept with Eren Yeager—my roommate. Damn it, Ymir was right.

-

Ugh, it’s so bright. My tired eyes squinted against the morning light streaming through the curtains, forcing me awake. I looked around, making sure I was in my own room. It didn’t even matter—my head was pounding from last night. The girls’ night out, and… something else. Oh shit.

Slowly, I turned over, dreading what I’d see. There he was. Eren, peacefully asleep, in my bed, his head resting on my pillows. Someone pinch me.

I sank deeper into my sheets, replaying all the memories from last night. It felt like a fever dream. I had seen another side of Eren—one that I knew, deep down, I’d crave from now on. I’d wanted to give him a chance to fix our relationship, to build something like a healthy roommate bond, but now that he was half-naked in my bed, that plan had gone out the window.

My head throbbed as my mind clouded with thoughts of how things would play out. Could I let Eren into my heart, or was I too scared to face what that might mean? The overthinking only made my headache worse. I needed to stop spiraling.

Before I could dwell any further, I felt his arms wrap around me, making me freeze. The racing thoughts stopped. Eren’s breath tickled my hair as he pulled me closer, his hold gentle but firm, grounding me in the moment.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”Eren whispered into my ear, his lips trailing soft kisses along my shoulder. His breath was warm against my skin, and I felt the tension in my chest tighten. Do I tell him the truth? Should I just stay quiet for now?

“Just tell me,” he urged, pulling me closer. His touch was reassuring, but my thoughts were still a mess. I turned to face him, my heart pounding, and caught his gaze. He smiled at me, his lips brushing against mine before pulling back slightly to kiss the tip of my nose.

“Hey,” I said awkwardly, returning a soft smile.

“What’s up?” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment. I hesitated again before asking, “What… what are we, Eren?”

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. I braced myself, nervous about his response.

“Want me to be honest?” He traced a finger gently across my cheek. I nodded, holding my breath.

“I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know things have been messy, and I’ll work on it. I’ll fix my attitude, be better about my habits—whatever it takes. I just want to be with you. I’ll take you on real dates, buy you flowers, get your favorite food… just give me a chance.”

He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me into a tight embrace. His words dissolved all my worries and hitting me hard, breaking down every wall I had tried to keep up. He was nervous, but honest, and I could feel the weight of his sincerity. I couldn’t help but giggle at his heartfelt confession.

“Yes,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’d love to give us a chance.”

Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly, laying me back onto the bed, positioning himself above me. His kisses trailed along my jawline, and I laughed as he showered my face with affection, feeling a warmth spread through me.

Later that morning, while lying tangled in the sheets, I grabbed my phone and sent Ymir a quick text: “You were right.”

I glanced over at Eren, his hand still intertwined with mine as he lazily traced circles on my skin.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[meanbossart]

LORE ASK COMPILATION: "Still not banging Halsin, Squid Games, Sun King, Failing at love quizzes, Bottoms, Tops, and Cats" Edition

He didn't, Halsin wasnt around for act 3, too busy healing land and saving ghost children or something!

THANK YOU/I'M SORRY, I'm surprised there isn't more Bhaalist Dark Urge/Spawn Astarion stuff out there. Don't get me wrong, I love a good evil power couple, but who can resist the good ol'heartbreak of a vicious unending cycle brought on by your own senselessness!

That wasn't something I was interested in previously just because acquiring the slayer form isn't part of his canon, but I've been looking at enough fromsoft games' monster designs that I might be a little inspired to try LOL

Also I am just a fan of the canon design and never before thought it needed altering. But I'll let it cook ;)

God damn it.

DU drow was VERY antagonizing towards the emperor since the moment he dropped the facade, which made the attempt ESPECIALLY hilarious - that poor guy is so, so lonely.

I don't recall the exact wording in-game, but once the emperor took his shiny squid pecs out and shot his shot, DU drow recoiled and called him disgusting. After having the visions of Stelmane forced upon him to make whatever baffling point the emperor was trying to make, DU drow smugly asserted that he had finally let the mask slip and their very terrible date ended with the Emperor enforcing their reluctant need for one another, for the time being.

In-prose, that would honestly be pretty much it. DU drow would have reacted with absolute revulsion at the prospect of being hit on by a mindflayer, and taken the Emperor's (miscalculated) moment of lashed-out vulnerability as a win - as proof that he was exactly as duplicitous as he always assumed the Emperor to be.

I can assure everyone that I am as entertained by the thought as the rest of you and it is in the cards for future art, I just have... So many prompts... I have at least 5 different mini-comics I want to make, BESIDES singular pieces, BESIDES the fanfic... I wish I had more time and more hands.

But DU drow's unlikely semi-success as a parental figure is hilarious to me. I think about it constantly.

I haven't entertained that thought much because its antithetical to DU drow's character. Whether "good" or evil, he wouldn't allow Astarion to ascend because of his fear of no longer being needed and his reluctance to watch his partner be consumed by out-sourced power and changed into something he despises. Realistically, in a world where Astarion is allowed to ascend they could only break up and inevitably kill each other soon after.

That said, I am fascinated by the Sun King and the implications that path has for his character. So far that is an arc that I can only really see Astarion taking on alone, though - that might change in the future, might not. We'll see!

IF I CAN MAKE IT NOT ENTIRELY MISERABLE, I JUST MIGHT.

He got 2 out of 3 questions wrong - which is to say he was way too honest and Astarion didn't like that.

Except for the "when is he the happiest" question, which he correctly answered with "when he's neck deep in gore".

This is not even a lore-embelishment, this is actually how that scene went for me and I cackled about it for ages.

He would love to get tied up for old-times' sake. I doubt he knows much about fancy knots but Astarion might (though I might be in a minority that doubts his enforced "sex life" was actually that interesting at all.)

Thank you so much!

You are mostly correct. Bhaalist drow, both pre and post tadpole would be much more keen on the idea of having people around who fulfill their every desire - EXCEPT for killing. That is a joy they take on for themselves.

"Canon" DU drow values his independence a lot, on the other hand. He's neutral on the idea of slavery (what a sentence) and wouldn't be opposed to temporary servicing, but the idea of having someone around waiting for orders doesn't attract him at all, or at least would get on his nerves quick. He much preffers to do things himself and makes sure that other people see how much he does not need assistance.

The answer is yes, basically LOL.

DU drow both adores and despises Sceleritas presence and he doesn't know why. It very much reflects the type of relationship they used to have prior to DU drow's memory loss, and it's one of those things that he has conflicting feelings about but not any context for them.

I sadly doubt that the boys would become parents during Shadowheart's lifetime (it's for the best, they have a lot of work to do before I would trust them not to drop a baby), but honestly she strikes me as really liking kids as long as she doesn't have to, well, have them LOL.

And thank you so much for enjoying them and humoring me!

I think it is less about bottoming-topping and more about enjoying a more submissive role during sex, as well as in other scenarios. He believes that giving control away is, in a way, a show of devotion that goes both ways - his own for the willingness to do so, and his partner's for not taking advantage of it despite his wanting them to do so.

With one-night-stands (which he occasionally had pre-tadpole) he would still bottom without any of the submissiveness. This is because he didn't have the capacity to understand what it was about bottoming that attracted him, and led him to feeling constantly unfulfilled and frustrated (he just isn't build for no-strings-attatched type of arrangements, lol.)

This means that he really could operate either way depending on the partner as long as he got that fix of docility, whether it be from the bottom or top.

I think of Astarion as being similarly versatile but leaning more in the opposite direction when it comes to power-dynamics - though it being less about dominance itself and more about being pampered and catered to - and, of course, getting to do what he wants. Though he's willing to try most things a partner is particularly enthusiastic for just to see how he feels about it.

That said with DU drow he does prefer to top for a plethora of reasons.

I didn't have this piece of lore thought-up at the time, but I should have made them look like the lady he lost his virginity to.

Him and Astarion were gobbling those things up until the emperor reveal, then they both quit it cold-turkey after DU drow stomped the astral-tadpole dead (and back then you didn't have to roll any dice to do it, because otherwise we would have weird veiny DU drow to deal with for sure because he would NOT have suceeded that save.)

DU drow's feelings towards animals is a constant in every iteration of his character. They are organic little pieces of art wandering about the world that act upon their own laws and regulations, ones which humanoids aren't privy to - except for when they intrude into that world through magic and try to understand it through their overly-complicated systems and concepts. If a cat made the temple it's home, it can stay.

[memyselfandi2008-blog]

So, I’ve just recently seen a few videos on TikTok about people leaving their best friend of however many years because they started dating someone, and it just confuses the absolute hell out of me.

Like, a few women have posted about leaving their male friends because he got a girlfriend, and I’m just sitting here like… you don’t have to do that?

You shouldn’t have to break years (or even a handful of months) of your friendship off because he got a girlfriend.

I mean, I did see a few comments talk about how it’s a “trust thing,” or something like that, but like… a trust thing for who?

If it’s for the girlfriend, that’s a red flag, is it not? Like, the idea that she can’t accept that her boyfriend has female friends? The fact she doesn’t trust him to not go behind her back? Or even try to form relationships with his friends and get to know them better?

If it’s for the guy, that’s also a red flag. As said before he should be trustworthy and loyal—his affection for his girlfriend shouldn’t have to be called into question. The idea that there is even a sliver of possibility for that to happen is not grounds for a healthy relationship.

If it’s for the friend, again, red flag. The fact you’d go out of your way to pursue him if you didn’t break off your friendship is extremely muffed up.

Men (and women in the reverse) should be allowed to have opposite gendered best friends without the concept of romance just hanging over their heads for their entire lives, or needless petty drama of the idea that “oh they could be dating!! >:(” when that thought has never crossed their minds.

Hell, even if they did used to date and broke it off, but still remained friends, that should be a sign that their breakup was healthy for both of them and that they won’t plan to get together again. They were both mature and realized that a romance wasn’t something they wanted.

This entire concept just baffles me.

I mean, it’s videos like those that make me paranoid that I’m the reason my guy friend hasn’t gotten a girlfriend yet. There’s been so many points where I’ve just though that he’d be better off if I just stopped being his friend, that maybe it’d be easier for him if we never even met in the first place.

I just don’t understand why men and women can’t just be friends. There always has to be something, some underlying feeling that people just assume is there, when it’s really nothing at all.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Prompt 7 with Malleus? And the reader as the ghost? 😳

Visions of the Past; Malleus Draconia

Content; Gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, pining left unresolved

Content Warning; Reader death (not heavily described)

Word Count; 700+

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Time heals all wounds. But Malleus knew that wasn’t true. Yes, time may heal physical wounds, although not always perfectly, but it no longer weeps or festers. Whereas emotional wounds, such as trauma, grief, and anger do not fade or heal in the same manner as a cut would.

Malleus was standing outside the entrance of Ramshackle, once his nightly walking grounds turned to the home of the first person that befriended him for him. The first person who didn’t know or care, even after finding out about his identity, that he was the Malleus Draconia. A magicless human who treated him as they did with others, but with a tad bit more ease, humour, and kindness since they were friends.

Were friends.

His heart knew though that you weren’t just friends. He had felt this emotion before to some extent with his passion for gargoyles, but they paled in comparison to you.

Your brightness. Your laugh. Your little mannerisms that most wouldn’t pay attention to, but he did. 

“Do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re older,” you mused while on one of your nightly walks with Malleus. Malleus furrowed his brow and looked at you quizzically, “Why wouldn’t we be? I have no intention of not being in your life.” You had stopped moving forward and Malleus came to a stop beside you. “Well, I don’t know. You’re a prince, future king, and you might get swapped in royal business and duties…” You pursed your lips, an unpleasant taste in your mouth. “And isn’t that more important?”  “Do you not like spending time with me?” Malleus’ voice was more sharp, on edge. “NO!” You shouted, the word echoing a bit in the quiet night. “I like spending time with you. I love it!” Malleus looked at you with confusion, and if he were looking at anyone else the way he had been in the past minute, they would have been grovelling, asking for forgiveness. But not you.  “Then why did you bring it up in the first place? Should there not be time, I will simply make it,” he said quietly. A small smile and chuckle replaced the irritated look of moments prior, “I will even make it ‘royal business’ as you put it.” You cough-laughed at his statement, but you only laughed harder when you looked at him to see a baffled expression.  Malleus chuckled lightly, joining your amusement, even though he didn’t understand what was so funny that had you tearing up. You let out a long sigh, recollecting yourself. “Well, I’ll be there then, promise.”

And you had held that promise. Despite both of your hectic lives, you both met at least twice a month. If neither of you had the time? Well, Malleus would just show up outside your place, like old times, and you would both go about the property. Sometimes talking away, and other times in silence, just happy to be next to each other again.

Malleus knew he liked you, loved you even — the way he felt more like himself when he was around you, and a tinge of jealousy made that distinction clear — and he was planning on asking you if you felt the same.

But he didn’t have the chance.

He would never have the chance.

He knew that he wouldn’t have many years with you, but he had planned that it was old age that took you away from him.

Ramshackle had not changed, but Malleus could still smell the scent of soot, even after all of these years. The foyer stopped, and Malleus looked into the gloom of the burnt ruins.

“ … do you remember our promise?”

He had been coming here, once a fortnight, asking the same question and hoping for an answer. Every time all he ever received was the sound of rotting wood and the scampering of mice.

He took in a breath and was ready to leave, to go back to his duties, but he stopped.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He couldn’t see you, but you were here. And that was all that mattered to Malleus. That although you may not physically be here anymore, he had not lost you.

Time may heal all wounds, but Malleus didn’t want this wound to heal. He didn’t want to lose you, not again.

. . .

. . .

A/N; Hope you enjoyed what I came up with for this combination! And *hands you an emotional dragon fae that misses you*

~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @keii-starz @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @syrenkitsune @the-v-lociraptor @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[theemporium]

click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

.

You had thought you were perfectly content with love being expressed silently until you met Nico Hischier.

For you, love and silence had always been interchangeable throughout your entire life. You weren’t sure when it clicked, when the realisation had been set in stone in your head and never to be argued with. You just knew that silence usually meant good things, that it meant positive feelings. At least, you liked to assume.

When it came to your parents, the silence meant there was no scolding or nitpicking. They were never shy at the way they pointed out your flaws, your mistakes, your errors. It was hidden under concerns and wishes for you to thrive, but the pressure just felt as suffocating and overbearing as them. The silence was a relief from the constant remarks. 

In school, it was like the teachers and professors just expected you to do well. They saw a bright child, so the second the grades started to matter, the assumption was made that you would just thrive. That pressure returned, and you hated the disappointing and disapproving talks you would get if you did badly. Once again, the silence was a relief, it meant they left you alone and that was what you wanted.

It followed as the same in almost every aspect in your life: in your friendships, in your relationships, in your careers, in your achievements. Silence had become so intertwined with love, success and praise in your life that you knew nothing but. 

Until Nico Hischier. 

Maybe it was the captain in him, or maybe it was just the kind of guy Nico was. It was almost comical to think back upon the early stages of your relationship, when everything was so new and his words left you overwhelmed—but in a good way, in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“You didn’t have to wake up with me,” Nico said as he wandered into the kitchen. 

Unlike you who was still in your pyjamas, he was dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie—the Devils logo and his number standing out on both. His gym bag was dropped at his feet before he wandered over to where you stood by the stove. 

It was early. Dreadfully early, in fact. And despite every cell in your body screaming for you to stay in your warm, cosy bed when Nico’s alarm blared for his early morning practice, you wanted to do a little something for him for once.

“I wanted to make you a proper breakfast,” you shrugged, letting out a soft sigh as he wound his arms around your waist, his chest pressed into your back as the warmth of him washed over you. “An apple and a protein shake isn’t enough.” 

“It’s worked alright so far,” Nico grumbled, his head dropped to your shoulder as he watched you cook. “But thank you. You’re amazing, schätzi.” 

You snorted. “You mean having a proper breakfast is amazing.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm but sincere. “I mean you are amazing. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

And maybe there was still a part of you that wasn’t used to Nico’s constant praise and affection. You could do hugs and kind acts and thoughtful gifts but, fuck, the words really got to you.

It just baffled you how easily the words could pass his lips. It came so naturally to him, so fucking easily that it made you question how you went your whole life having people struggle to even give you basic appreciation but this boy seemed to be able to praise you for something as simple as making him a meal. But it went beyond that.

 Nico did it with everything. 

You look gorgeous, baby, that dress was made for you.

Fuck, schätzi, doing so good f’me. Just like that.

I’m so proud of you.

You’re doing the best you can, baby, you’re so strong.

He wasn’t shy about his appreciation for you. He showed his love in so many different ways that made him the absolute perfect boyfriend, but the words that left his lips were the most consistent and—though you didn’t have the courage to say it yet—your favourite.

“You’re a sap in the mornings,” you commented, because whilst you were used to hearing them, it would still take time to fully accept them and not deflect instantly. 

He knew that. If anything, he thought it was adorable. It prompted him to do it more often just to see how flushed you got, just to see the way you were somehow caught off-guard every single time.

“Maybe you should wake up with me more often,” Nico retorted, swaying your bodies together in the chilly kitchen. “I could use a shower buddy.”

You snorted. “You would never make it to practise on time.”

“That is a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Nico shrugged, but you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn’t see it.

“You’re gonna set a bad influence, captain,” you teased, shaking your head.

Nico let out a low groan. “Don’t start calling me captain, I have to leave in fifteen.”

“Think of it as motivation to do well,” you countered as you plated up your breakfasts and lightly nudged him so he would allow you to place them on the breakfast bar. “I’ll be in bed waiting for you.”

Nico shot you a look. “You’re a temptress.”

You grinned back.

“A gorgeous, sexy temptress that I can’t wait to come back home too,” Nico continued, pleased at the way your face flushed in response. 

“Dick,” you grumbled but you happily accepted the kiss he placed on your cheek as he thanked you for the breakfast.

And, much to his delight, you were in bed waiting for him after he had come home from practice, eager to climb in with you.

.

[yanderes-galore]

may i request a romantic yandere concept for Lucifer with Fallen Angel! Darling? Maybe he used to have a crush on them before he fell, so seeing them again after such long time just makes his old feelings come back in the worst way possible..

Thank you so much for giving me a background, lol! It helped a lot when working on this ^^ Sorry for the long wait, hope it was worth it.

Yandere! Lucifer with Fallen Angel! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

Before Lucifer fell? What a long time...

Yet he no doubt remembers his time up there.

I imagine Lucifer knew you before he seduced Eve and married Lilith.

He kinda has to, right?

You were probably his first companion... Possibly a crush he had no idea how to act on.

He was quite... naive? Young?

Either way, back then he was rather inexperienced, even as an angel.

He always asked too many questions and seemed to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

You knew him well back then.

You were two close friends, Lucifer had always remembered you fondly.

Everything about you was, well, angelic.

Your smile, your gaze, your pretty pure wings.

Like many things in heaven, you were a beauty to behold.

Lucifer, in hindsight, wishes he spent more time with you.

Things were simple back then.

Just two angels, sharing some talk.

There was no Hell yet and Lucifer was still that beaming dreamer that many found troublesome.

But you never thought that.

You were just as curious.

You were curious about him, humankind, and all of creation.

Even before Lucifer met Lilith it seems he was corrupting you.

Lucifer often told you of the dealings he and Lilith did.

He wasn't sure why... but maybe it was because you'd always perk up with stars in your eyes when you listened.

Although... Once temptation was introduced to humankind...

You were forced to watch Lucifer fall from grace.

Lucifer still remembers the fear in your eyes when you watch your companion fall.

He had always remembered you since that day.

Yet he was also occupied with his new wife, Lilith, deep in this new kingdom created by their hands.

Hell.

Honestly, Lucifer didn't think he'd see you again.

Why would he?

Far as he knew, you were quite the pure angel.

You belonged up there... while he deserved to take his punishment.

Lucifer didn't start thinking about you again until Lilith disappeared.

It was then, when he was alone with his rubber ducks, that he began to realize how much you meant to him.

He's a king... yet he's a pitiful king in this state.

Even now he misses the companionship you two would share.

But then there's... news.

A fallen angel has entered Hell.

Lucifer would normally not care when another soul enters Hell.

But an angel?

That's already surprising enough.

He probably met you after helping Charlie rebuild the Hotel.

Which only seems to surprise him more.

At first, well, he thinks he's dreaming.

There's... There's no way you're here!

Yet when he gets a close look...

It is you.

This was really you.

You look different due to the fall... but you.

Lucifer probably tears up when he sees you, like seeing a long lost friend.

A long lost love...

He's been alone for so long.

I don't doubt him hugging you when he sees you, baffling you and the other demons for a moment.

Until Lucifer starts dumping info, saying you two were close in Heaven.

Lucifer is quite excited you came down here.

He isn't sure how you ended up here...

Yet he's happy you are!

It's for... selfish reasons, but that's expected of a demon.

With you here, he's no longer alone!

He has his fellow (fallen) angel friend to keep him company!

Not only that... but he wants to show you the world he's been thriving in for... who knows how long?

You're scared when you first arrive... Completely expected.

You fell due to following Lucifer's teachings and agreeing with Charlie's plan to reform sinners.

Which is how you end up falling into Lucifer's new home.

Knowing how delusional and alone Lucifer is at this point, even after reconciling with his daughter, he'd probably think this was destiny.

You two were meant to meet again!

You were meant to save him from being lonely like the angel you are! (were?)

You'd no doubt be Lucifer's next love interest, even if you were technically his first.

Sometimes he's sorry for being away for so long.

You two would've been cute together up there...

....

But that can still happen, right!?

Lucifer definitely shows you around his home and reminisces about your time together in Heaven.

To you, he's like a friend who simply hasn't seen another friend in a long time.

Yet that's such a naive view...

In reality, due to his fragile mental state, Lucifer is quickly falling in love all over again.

I imagine now, in Hell, his feelings get twisted.

After all, he's no angel anymore.

You aren't either.

He can be possessive, he can be manipulative...

He's clingy, desperate, and hopes you still enjoy his presence.

To him, everything about you is still beautiful.

He hopes you're still a dreamer.

He hopes you understand how he feels.

He's delusional, probably accidentally confessing within weeks.

Then when he realizes it, he begs you to stay.

He's a king now!

He'll give you everything and anything!

Please don't leave too!

If... If you do...

Maybe he needs to clip your wings?

Lucifer doesn't have many... morals in this state.

Again, King of Hell and all.

So keeping you with him by force, even if he doesn't fully realize it, doesn't register as wrong to him.

He'll manipulate you or straight up lock you away.

If he wanted to restrict your power, he probably could since you both are fallen angels.

He's desperate to not be alone again.

He clings to you, perhaps even in demonic form, pleading you don't leave.

When you try to pull away, try to reason, try to run from your corrupted friend...

He merely strokes your wings in a comforting touch, whispering sweet nothings...

Before locking you away, chaining your wings, just so he can keep his closest companion.

Your wings bleed with your attempts to flee... the glowing ichor staining your skin.

You're miserable... tortured by your delusional companion's obsession...

But to Lucifer...

It was torture losing you... torture being alone...

But now, you're in his territory, his domain...

Now? Well, now you'll never leave him!

He won't let it happen.

He's sick of being alone.

He just wants to hold you... kiss you... love you...

He wants you to be his.

He's waited a long time for this.

He knows you're scared... but... you'll grow used to your new home...

He'll take care of you, he'll love you until he sees that familiar sparkle of happiness in your eyes...

But just when he thinks he sees your eyes sparkle when you look at him...

He quickly realizes it's tears.

[kaonarvna]

Every now and again, I remember that my disability (EDS) isn't invisible, actually. People are just uncomfortable when they can see it. People don't want to see it. People like to ignore it. Other people just stare at it, and don't even look at me. All they see is a pile of bones and fascia and something to pity.

I've worn a shoulder brace the past week, because it subluxed horribly a week or so ago. Still healing. Visible.

I always have compression sleeves on my arms, full coverage. Bicep to wrist. Visible.

I have soft braces and compression kit for every joint imaginable. Visible.

I'm covered in KT tape. I've worn it on my goddamn face after a jaw sublux, for that little extra support and proprioception help. Tape. On the face. Very visible.

The people I've worked with for years are used to it by now, the good ones, at least. They don't remark when I take a minute to stretch. They know I'll say something if I'm not okay. They know I'm in a constant state of variable dysfunction. They've seen enough, they're used to it.

But then there's people who aren't used to it. People who see me stretch on the ground, watch in discomfort, then they ask someone else if I'm okay. I can hear them quietly mutter it to other staff. I hear them go, "oh, he does that". I can see their discomfort with me (just existing as I need to exist). I can see the discomfort in these new people who aren't accustomed to bodies with slightly different needs, and it's a visceral reminder of being "other". I wonder, how terrible and scary and different I must be, for them to not even have the fortitude to ask me themselves.

And then there are the new people who see it and ask too many questions. The ones who go "but you're so young!" as though my connective tissue has a concept of social expectations for people under (arbitrary age). They go "but you look great!" as though I'm not covered in bruises and held together by tape (nevermind the implication that the disabled must look "bad"). They go "but you never call in!" as though I'm not often two seconds away from doing so, before the fear of losing my job sets in.

...and these are the ones who seem to wish not to see it the most. The ones who ask questions like I should be on display, and as soon as the conversation ends, so does my disability. They'll ask the same questions the next time, and the next time, and the next. It always ends with statements of pity, or something pity-adjacent. If I'm "lucky", they might even make an inappropriate comment about how I shouldn't be working, or sex must be "interesting", or act like I'm some eldritch horror that shouldn't exist.

And I'm reminded of the training I was once made to sit though. A ninety minute training, where you sit and watch the PowerPoint for ninety minutes in a too-small plastic chair, while someone reads the PowerPoint. The presenter started with a cute little "haha I know it's long, feel free to get up and walk around, or stretch".

I did.

I got up, walked myself to the side well out of the way of the tight chair lines, and laid down to stretch (a good spinal twist, loosen things up).

And she stopped the presentation.

She asked if there were any first-aiders present.

She was going to keep going on and on, until I heard someone say, "oh, he's fine, he does that." and a few "that's just (name), he does that". She started apologising profusely, waffling about how she thought there must have been a medical emergency, how people don't usually get up. She seemed baffled by the mere concept that someone would actually need to get up, and couldn't sit for ages. Her statement was entirely performative and insincere.

Today, after the day was effectively done, I laid down on the clean, carpeted floor in my classroom to just...be horizontal for a moment. Find some way, any way, to get my lower back to move and function and not feel like it was being clawed apart from the inside. Relieve myself a little, so I could finish the day without abject misery. And this very-new member of staff sat on the other side of the room, presumably watching me. When I got up, she asked very quietly, "Is something wrong with you?" and all I had the energy to say was "I'm fine". I'm tired of explaining my body. I'm tired of explaining my needs. I'm tired of justifying taking care of myself.

Someone recently told me "You're very brave. I think I'd rather die than live like you."

I didn't respond. I didn't have the energy to break down that she'd effectively told me I should die. I didn't have the energy to tell her that it's not bravery to live "like this".

It's my only option.

I know nothing else.

And I'm just tired. And hurting.

I'm grateful for the few good ones, the ones that are used to it. The people who have stopped asking me if I'm okay when I stretch, or need a little break, or get out the tape and scissors.

They know I'm not okay. That's why I'm on the ground. That's why I'm checking my range of motion, or feeling a joint, or holding pressure on a digit that's come undone. I'm not okay, and I'm trying not to get even worse.

I'm not okay, actually. I'm never okay, and that's fine. I'll never be your version of "okay", and that's fine. I've no choice. Thank you for knowing that I'm not okay, but that that's normal, and that if something was seriously, horribly wrong, I'd do something. Thank you, for just going about your business and talking to me as normal when I'm taking care of myself, instead of sprinkling eggshells on the ground for your own personal crunching.

I'm just tired. I'm visibly disabled if you look for ten goddamn seconds. I'm a person if you look for twenty. I'm a fetish if you just keep staring and staring and asking about my body like you're entitled to my flesh. I just want to sleep for more than two hours without my body waking itself up to remind me it hurts. I'm so tired.

[saturns7moon]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS P2 ٩(˘◡˘)۶

hihi everybodyyyyy, astro observations p2, let’s gooo 😋.

personally!!! i’ve seen that a lot of venusian influence within a family can show instances of having health issues linked back to sweet foods. like for example, my taurus mother is a pre-diabetic, and she’s told me that it generally runs throughout our family. i don’t have diabetes but i’ve noticed how me and my siblings have a really bad sweet tooth. eating too many sweets makes my (7H taurus moon and mars, sidereal libra sun and rising) tooth ache, the youngest (taurus rising, sidereal pisces stellium) has been scolded a lot for eating way too much sugar as well. same as i, lol.

now question for my fellow taurus placements. how do u feel about cooking? are you good at it?

i’m crying, right after i wrote this, i was scrolling on tiktok and there’s this video of this woman, meg deangelis, who says that one thing that she can never understand is when people say they can’t cook, and she’s basically saying how it baffles her. i had an inkling, so i searched up her chart and she’s a taurus sun and aries venus 😭. taurus people are commonly stereotyped to liking food a lot, which makes sense since taurus is the more down-to-earth side of venus, and venus is about comforts, and taureans find comfort in food! aries is ruled by mars, aka planet of war and what-not, and i’ve found that aries placements mixed alongside taurus placements love to cook in the kitchen because the kitchen is known to hold sharp cutlery in there, which commonly used whilst cooking.

i was listening to criminal by britney spears earlier today, and i swear that song is so so 7H mars coded. like falling for someone that isn’t the best of the best or people being against who you love like. i still can’t word it properly, but if you’re a libra rising/taurus rising/7H mars (scorpio/aries/venusian mars can count as well depending on aspects!!) please listen to the song (specifically whilst watching the music video🧍🏾‍♀️) or read the lyrics and tell me you understand what i’m talking bout 😭. like i know y’all would get it 😭‼️

^ also “why try” by ariana grande feels the exact same to me toooo omg.

having an afflicted 3H, 7H and 11H is literally my villain origin story. like it’s either i have no friends, i get bullied/outcasted or i go through the WORST friendship breakups ever like oooooh whoever has it out for me did a good job bro 🤧🤥.

(i have a 3H capricorn chiron, 7H moon and mars, virgo rules my 11H, and my mercury (sagittarius) is afflicted, i was never gonna win bro 😭)

a mutual of mine on twitter said something that i completely agree with, and it’s basically saying how having any ill feelings towards someone like, for example what she talking about, beauty can really damage ur venus personally. like, people who are severely racist for example, do y’all see how they age or look so ugly because they were berating how other people look specifically. or people who hate on women are just naturally nasty to be around. they don’t have to be physically ugly (they usually are tho) but you can tell by how they treat women what rewards and punishments they receive in life.

does that make sense? let me know guys 😭.

i absolutely love when i have my venus return/when venus is in capricorn because i feel so so pretty which makes so much sense considering in sidereal astrology i’m a libra rising ruled by my sagittarius venus, like i love all things venus, and when venus is in capricorn/sidereal sagittarius, i feel so good. which makes a lot of sense on why i don’t really care for or feel irritated when mars returns to taurus (or sidereal aries) because aside from the fact that i never really related to being martian ruled, my natal mars is literally retrograde, so yeah mars returns are not my favourites at ALL 😭.

(actually i take it back it’s not that i feel irritated? i just don’t think anything significant happens to me during my mars returns. i probably need to go check personally in my own time, but yeah. i just backtracked since in both my tropical and sidereal chart, i’m martian and venusian either way 😭.)

what’s ur favourite planetary return?

“bedtime story” by frank ocean (unreleased!!) is the most scorpio venus ass song i’ve ever heard in my life…i love it so so much sigh. the poetic, angsty, yearning that a scorpio conjures up because who could honestly be better at being so deeply consumed by emotions than scorpio? (many many other signs but it’s not about them rn!!)

yknow a while back i did a part one for sos the album by sza as the signs, and i haven’t made a part two but would y’all like another part!? or would you like me to do this with other albums? let me know pls 🧍🏾‍♀️.

this is probably common knowledge amongst other astrologers, but i definitely believe that virgos, specifically the risings, are so mean to their selves is because their 12H is ruled by the sun, and whilst the 12H is the shadow side of ourselves that we choose to hide from, as much as they would like to hide, virgos have their shadow side constantly in their face as the sun shines so hard on everything they aren’t ready to touch or aren’t ready to see. whether it’s their selves personally or others around them, there’s an underlying sense of dread that they live with because they know that no matter where they run, their mind will always remind them of what they choose to hide underneath, which results in the fear that people/society (scorpio 3H) will see the absolute worst of who they truly believe they are, and judge them ruthlessly for it (aquarius 6H).

one thing i’ve noticed is whilst saturn in pisces has been transiting my 5H, is the romantic side of my life has been lacking so much 😭. like coming april would make a year since i last had a crush on someone, which is funny to me since i used to crush on ppl so often. however, it makes sense since saturns main themes are about structure, discipline and what you want to create in the long-term, and i’ve noticed that i don’t just want to even have small crushes or what not on others because not everyone meets my standards (structure) and i want my first relationship with someone to mean something and to become something (long-term plans involving relationships) and nobody around me has given me that, so the lack in my love life is mainly just because i’m sticking to my standards and they haven’t been met yet 🤷🏾‍♀️. saturns job is to make you understand what you truly want and what you don’t want or what isn’t benefiting you, and since saturn had gone direct back in november, i’ve definitely been noticing this, especially since we’re in a saturnian season rn (aquarius) and valentine’s day just passed lmao. so just to give an example or help you understand how saturn has been impacting you, let’s say saturn is trainsiting your 9H and you’re in education, maybe you’re realising the course that you’re on isn’t for you, or your long-term plans just don’t mesh well with what your studying for yknow or you could realise how you’ve started building more around your education in regards to what you want in place for you in the future.i’m also using that example since saturn is currently trining my 9H and i’ve realised university is definitely not what i want to go through with after i graduate college tbh.

thinking about how majority of my planets are in my 1H-7H axis (1H sun and jupiter, 7H moon and mars) and how i genuinely can have the choice to create multiple identities 😭. to explain, when i was born, my mum gave me three names. mae, lola and the last one i don’t wanna disclose lmao, but i saw a tweet a while back talking about how your name(s) can definitely link back to your birth chart, and remembering this again makes me love astrology a whole lot more tbh.

(actually i lied i have 4 different names, but that name is very very close/similar to my younger sisters name as well and i can never tell the bloody difference 😭, but y’all get my yapping.)

feeling tired or like u can’t be bothered to do shit???? the moon is most likely void of course or your mars/moon is negatively aspecting (square, opposite, conjunct) transit mars/moon. when the moon is void of course, it’s basically just a period of time (usually less than a day i believe) when the moon is literally like not aspecting anything in the sky, so she’s wandering around until she transitions into another sign. usually astrologers say that during this time, it’s difficult for ppl to make plans or have any motivation to do anything as ppl are less likely to make solid decisions about anything in general, to summarise, it makes ppl lazy 🤥!!

having 1H synastry with anyone depending on the planet is so interesting to watch from an outside perspective, because you can either see two people adore one another’s energy or be completely revolted by one another. like for example my best friend has my younger sisters aquarius stellium in her 1H and it’s hilarious to me how much those two dislike each other, and then not too long ago my best friend told me how my sister reminded her a lot of herself at my siblings current age and it just clicked for me lmao.

i’ve noticed that people with a mix of aries, gemini with a small dash of water in their chart have such a hard time processing their emotions or are just very abrasive when it comes to their emotions, putting practicality over emotions most of the time, leaving people to perceive them as quite emotionally stunted or selfish to be honest. i’ve noticed that it’s commonly believed that these types of people don’t really care for others as much as people care for them, leaving a lot of miscommunication within these relationships, especially if the other person is water heavy compared to them.

hi yes this is long overdue, i’m very very sorry, i just lost motivation to continue with my stuff and life unfortunately has been a mess to keep up with! i’m not gonna promise anything new cus knowing me i’ll probably dip for awhile again, but hopefully you all liked these observations and pls leave ur thoughts and opinions in the replies, i always enjoy hearing what you guys have to say :)

okay bye bye, lots of love, lola <3.

[seaofwine]

What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

“You fucked me so good that I almost said, “I love you”

Sugar Daddy!James Patrick March x Coquette!f!reader

Warnings! Smut, p n v, f!ngering, eensy bit of n!pple play/ breast worship, praise, porn w plot, angst bc I can’t help myself

This might be my longest fic yet

Reupload of the request by @jazz-berry

“James!” I squealed, holding the necklace up to my neck, letting the charm rest over my exposed collarbones. The pink diamond in the charm, a Vivienne Westwood staple, matched the off shoulder sweater I was wearing.

My eyes flicked away from the necklace and to the proud, beaming smile on James’s face.

“I’m guessing I did well,” He purrs, biting at the of his cigarette holder between his beaming perfect white smile, flashy against his pale skin and dark slicked hair and light mustache.

“Oh, it’s wonderful. Just perfect.” I sighed in a lovely tone.The sound made him visibly perk up, like he was puffing his chest proudly.

“How did you even get something like this in the hotel?” I asked, baffled. I knew James was a ghost, I knew it from the moment I met him. It wasn’t clairvoyance, there was just something about him that was just strange and different even in the strange and weird Cortez Hotel that made me the least bit surprised when he revealed to me that he was in fact, dead and had been for many decades.

We were drawn to each other, like a moth to flame. Where I was the glowing sun in his dark world, and he was the moth that was drawn to the burn, having never seen the sun for so long that he craved the light and sought it out. And now that he had it, he wouldn’t let it go. Not if he had any say in the matter. Even though my relationship with James was…different, to say the least, it could only seem stranger to anyone looking in as James and I were more professional than the average couple.

A few months earlier…

“If you’re interested in what I have to offer, then all you have to do…” He says in his thick, romantic voice, holding out a small feathered pen to me and tapping his finger on a thin line at the bottom of a document. “..is sign here.” He purrs, sneering cheekily at me.

I blinked a few times at him and then glanced down at his finger on the paper, still in a bit of shock and wonder. I had any natural reaction to what was going on, a ghost had just offered to practically be my sugar daddy. Well, he called it a “mutually beneficial relationship” without the commitment of a relationship. Which would have made us friends with benefits, if it weren’t for the fact that he had a slew of rules and a contract for me to follow, along with the underlying fact that he’d be paying me. Not in a cheap hooker sort of way, but in the very obvious sugar baby sort of way. I guessed calling it a sugar daddy/ baby relationship was too vulgar for him.

“What’s the catch?” I ask, glancing back up from the paper to him, my brow furrowing a bit as I tried to determine his game.

“What do you mean ‘what’s the catch’?” He smiles, practically gritting his teeth as if he’s trying to hide the fact that he was offended by the question.

“I mean, do I have to have sex with you or something?” I ask, my voice pitching inquisitively, almost accusatory.

“I don’t think of you as a hooker, darling.” He purrs, biting the end of his cigarette holder in that charming way he does, and I feel my stomach stir a bit. It was the most bare minimum thing to have ever been said to me, and yet, in the context of my situation and the way his voice trilled, it left me on the brink of floundering.

“Then what do you want from me?” I ask, my accusatory tone silencing as I soften my energy, feeling myself physically relax in my chair a little. I was curious what a man like him would want from a young 24 year old girl like me other than sex, I had my fair share of run-ins with older men, and had never heard of one who didn’t want me just for my body.

“What I want from you, darling, is to keep me company. It’s not just being dead that makes me feel cold.” His tone was unreadable as he paced behind my chair a little as he spoke, taking a quick puff of the cigarette attached to the holder and slowly blowing out the smoke.

He stops pacing and ends up back in the chair turned towards me, he takes another quick drag from the attachment and blows out of the smoke as I bat my eyelashes in awe at him, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by what was happening.

“All I ask of you is your time. Your smile, your face, your presence.” He says it like a poem, a sonnet he created, and only for me. It made my heart swell and I could feel the slight rush as it beats a bit faster for a moment, and I wonder if being dead makes it so that you can hear the heartbeats of others better when you don’t have one yourself. I hoped not, as mine had begun to pick up speed with his words, praying that the rush hadn’t made its way to the apples of my cheeks.

I nodded, not saying anything else in hopes of preventing myself even more shy embarrassment, holding out my palm for him to hand me the feather pen. I quickly squiggle my signature on the contract, and soon as I put the pen back down, he whisks it away faster than I can blink and rolls it into his possession. A giant smile now beams his face as he holds out his hand for me to take, and I hesitantly rest my fingers on his palm as he lifts me up from the chair.

“Wonderful.” He purrs, a pearly smirk on his face as I lift my head to meet his eyes.

Present day…

“I have my ways darling. You’re not the only living person I know.” He says, taking my hands in his as we begin to sway without music, he dances me slowly around the room as we talk. Something he likes to do quite often, so I’ve gotten used to finding a rhythm without music anymore. It was like we were dancing to the beat of my heart, and not the rhythmic tune of a song.

“Besides, I’m not aware if you’ve heard of this thing called the age of the internet..” He whispers in my ear, teasing me with his sarcastic wit. For a man who still dressed like it was the 1920’s, he had quite the wit and information of the modern times outside of him. I assumed that Liz must have been feeding him this information, they spend lots of time at the bar together now.

“Aah, I see.” I nod, unsure how to respond, being tongue-tied by his words.

“You look absolutely ravishing by the way, darling. How ever did a girl like you wind up here of all places?” He purrs as he continues to slowly sway with me, his hand clasped tightly with mine as he leans down and kisses my collarbone and shoulder.

“I find I’ve been asking myself the same question.” I smiled lightly, giggling a little at the feeling of his lips. But truly, I was now numb to the idea of living in the hotel with James and the other ghosts and guests. I had no family outside the hotel, so there was nothing holding me, but I still sometimes wondered what my life would have been like if I hadn’t decided to stay. Probably no better than it is now, out there I wouldn’t have James and the others to take care of me. Specifically, I wouldn’t have James. And after being with him for so long now, I’ve realized that I couldn’t imagine living without him any more.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes with a slightly worried and confused furrow, as if sensing the tension backed in my words.

“Are you unhappy here?” He asks, and for once there was no offense in his voice. It was if he truly feared that I was unhappy with my current situation, and that he was holding me back.

“No, it’s not that. I just…sometimes I just wonder what might have happened if I didn’t decide to stay here. To stay with you.” I stuttered a bit, stumbling over my words as I tried to quickly mend what I had begun to crack before it broke. My eyes darted nervously as I was put on the spot.

He continued to have this saddened furrow on his face that tugged at my heart strings. James promised that we wouldn’t let our feelings get involved in the relationship, as I had asked him I didn’t want there to be any obligation of attachment. And yet here we were, both hanging onto each other like we couldn’t let the other go. We wouldn’t. It seemed my plan to keep myself from falling in love with a ghost had failed, and I lost all hope of escape. In myself, and in this situation. Whatever it was.

“There is nothing out there for you, darling. There wasn’t then and there isn’t now.” He begins, his voice soft and warm, like a soft and comforting blanket. “You’re right where you belong.”

“But if that means you don’t want it to be with me, then so be it. You have every right to remove yourself from this agreement, it’s in the contract you signed.” I looked up at James, feeling the heartbreak squeezing at me. I just wanted to shake him and tell him I love him, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I kept my composure and shook my head.

“James…” I sigh, unsure of what to say. He always found a way to get my thoughts caught up.

“Don’t think that means I won’t put up a fight though…” He mutters against my skin as he begins to place soft kisses against my neck, having stopped our slow dancing and snaked his hands around the small of my back.

“I’ll keep you here as long as I can, no matter the cost…” He begins to get more possessive with his words and actions, nipping at my earlobe and trailing kisses up and down along my collarbone, neck and face. His lips danced over mine and ended up on my cheek, letting them ghost over and leaving a small shiver to run up my spine as I felt the silent brush of him over the plush skin.

I felt a whimper choke silently, getting caught in my throat as his fingers dip under the hem of my baby pink sweater. He continues to place deep and soft kisses along my warm skin, slowly pulling me closer and closer against him as if he was trying to melt our bodies together so I was unable to ever leave his side.

“James..” I whimper softly, the words being pushed from my mouth in a pathetic melody. He finally pulls his lips from my neck and looks into my eyes with those deep, sparkling pits. So empty, yet somehow so full of love and longing. We stare at each other for a moment, still flush against one another as our breathing begins to sync. The air feels tense and palpable as we wait for the other to make the next move. We both knew what was coming, it was just a game of waiting how long it would take for the other to cave.

Little to my surprise, Jame’s hand brushes the side of my face and latches around my ear, combing into my silk hair before he quickly rushes forward and snatches my lips into his, pressing a long and deep kiss into me. My eyes flutter shut and I lean back into him, my hands snaking up his suit-clad arms and around his neck. He hums at the feeling as I pull him in closer with my hands, clutching myself onto him as he swipes his tongue on my bottom lip. Pleading for entrance, and I’m so desperate myself that I let him in, and he instantly wraps his tongue with mine. And so the battle begins, and we both fight for dominance over the other as we slowly walk back to the silk sheeted bed that had been looming behind us, the backs of my knees pressing into the mattress before tripping me over backwards. I land and bounce a bit on my back, gasping into the kiss a bit as his body cages me down onto it, continuing to bite at my lip before licking the roof of my mouth and locking his tongue back with mine.

I raise my legs from the ground and wrap myself around his waist to fold into a more comfortable position, using them to pull him closer into me and finally feeling the tent in his suit as it grinds against my lace panties from underneath the white skirt I was wearing. That was now splayed higher up my waist, pooling at my sides against the mattress. He groans as I push him in, forcing his hips to roll at the growing stain pooling into the pink rose colored fabric. He pulls away from the kiss for a moment to drag me higher onto the bed, climbing up onto it with me before he begins to tug at the edge of the sweater I was wearing, lifting it up to throw it over my head.

I help him pull it off, grabbing the end of the sweater and swiping it effortlessly off my body and onto the floor behind me. He gives me a pleased grin before diving back into the kiss, my torso raised from the bed a bit and I placed my hands at the side of his face, tangling through his slick hair and messing up the classy style. I smile against his lips for a moment and he eagerly tries to push himself back in between my teeth, my smile settling as I let him deepen the kiss. The room begins to be filled with pants, soft moans and the sound of our mouths latching as time goes on. The sweet smell of pre-sex filling the air and mixing with the musty and dingy smell of the hotel that I had luckily grown used to by now.

His lips begin to falter, traveling back down my collarbone as he kisses the middle of my cleavage, his eyes flashing up to meet mine as his fingers hook under the straps of my bra and let them fall, his hands then sneaking behind my back and flicking open the clasp. He moves further away for a moment to take the straps of the bra again and slide them down my arms as I raise them up, throwing it to the side before latching his mouth onto one of the perking rosebud nipples now exposed. Cupping the other breast in his large hand and gently twisting the standing pink bud, my hands comb their way back into his hair, holding his head between them as small moans fell from my lips.

The heat growing in my abdomen and the burn of my core became unbearable at this point. My panties practically leaking onto the bed from my drooling cunt, hungry and greedy for more. A feeling I had never had with anyone else before.

“James…” A new pathetic whine, it was starting to seem like the only word I could say anymore was his name. A mantra. Which I knew would probably make James happy if that were true. He lifts his head a bit, his gaze meeting mine as he curiously listens to what I was trying to say. “Touch me…please.” I beg shyly, my face burned and I was sure it had reached a new shade of pink.

The cheeky bastard detached his lips from my nipple and flashed a devilish grin as he lifts up to meet my face again and presses a tender kiss to my cheek.

“Is my sweet girl feeling impatient?” He purrs in my ear and I struggle to swallow for a moment, the words ringing in my ear. Sweet girl. I shivered. “I suppose I could give you another treat, just because you’ve been such a good girl this week,” He purrs again in my ear, knowing it made me tremble even more. There were those sweet words again: good girl.

Slipping his fingers under the waistband of my panties, he collects the arousal pooling from my cunt, gasping slightly in my ear as he keeps his face close to mine, tenderly pressing occasional kisses against my lips. “Fuck…” He growls under his breath in a deep low tone that surprises me, sending shivers down my back as he pulls his fingers away and shows me the glistening remnants of my arousal webbing on his fingers.

“You are truly divine,” He grins as he gains my reaction to my fluids clinging to his fingers. Something on my pleading face must have struck a chord in him, because he quickly went back to slipping off my panties, collecting more slick on his fingers before dipping in his middle and index. He expertly dragged the pads of his fingers along the top of my gummy walls, picking up a perfect rhythm that sent shivers up my spine in a constant spur. My thighs shook gently as he continued fingering me, being pulled closer and closer over the edge. The pitch of my moans heightened when he pressed the pad of his thumb onto my swollen clit, rubbing in slow and gentle circles that slowly began to speed up. The pressure of his thumb on the bundle of nerves becoming stronger as he continues coaxing an orgasm out of me.

“Oh god..” I shudder breathlessly as I feel the telltale squeeze inside of me, the ecstasy blossoming over and through my body. I can hear a soft deep chuckle in my ear as he feels the clench of my muscles squeeze his thick fingers.

“Go ahead, darling. Let it go..” He purrs in my ear, I can practically feel the grin on his face as I squeal, release washes over me and paints the sheets beneath me. My thighs shake harshly for a moment and he continues pressing into my clit until I whine with overstimulation.

“I am going to absolutely ravage you, darling” He growls lowly. “So that the only thing you can think of is me, how much pleasure only I can give you.”

“Would you like that?” He asks in a pleasant tone.

I quickly nod my head, my mind dizzy from my previous orgasm.

“Use your words dear, I don’t know what you’re saying.” He sneers, clearly taunting me.

“Yes.” My words come out soft, feather-like off my tongue.

“Good…” His words trail pleasantly, a sweet praise. He rises away from me and swiftly unclasps his belt and slides it out from the belt loop of his suit pants in one swoop, like a small crack of a whip. I jump a little and his gaze peers up at me momentarily and he flashes an amused grin at my momentary shock and fear.

He unbuttons his pants and lets them drop, swiftly stepping out and kicking them to the side, adding his suit jacket and unbuttoned shirt to the pile next. His gaze focused on removing the fabric as I lie with labored breathing against the bed, my eyes flicking up and down his figure as I watch him reveal more and more. I watched in awe as he smoothly removed each piece of clothing without struggle, and a fervent desperation to remove them.

“Enjoying the show?” He purrs, his gaze wandering up to me again and noticing the hard stare I bore into his body.

Embarrassed, my eyes dance away from their staring and I feel a hot flush burn through my cheeks harder than before. “No need to be embarrassed, darling.” He adds, finally free of all his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxers and leaking with a drool of precum.

He walks forward, crawling up over me again and grabbing at my thighs with both of his hands. He notices my skirt still bunched at my waist and swiftly slides it off, forcing a small gasp to erupt from my lips. My skin now bare and exposed to the slight chill in the room, I feel the body heat emanating from James. For a ghost he had quite the warm body, his skin smooth and soft, the smell of his cologne strong and invading my senses causing my head to stir. I could feel my body begging and calling for him, even if I didn’t say it myself. And I knew he could hear it screaming from the look on his face and the way he tenderly placed kisses along my shoulders and collarbone. His touch quickly became gentle and careful, slowly lifting my legs over each of his shoulders while placing kisses up to my ankles. I shivered at the soft touch, his hands sliding up and down my legs before settling at the plush of my thighs and squeezing them.

He removes one hand from my thigh and begins to tease my slick folds with the tip of his flushed cock, flicking over my clit a few times before slowly sinking into my hungry entrance. He slowly bottoms himself out, groaning softly at the feeling of my walls entrapping him, my cunt fluttering with neediness and excitement. He takes a few moments for me to adjust to the sheer girth, his length hitting just right nestled against my cervix.

I began to believe him when he said he was going to ravish me, because as soon as he found a comfortable grip on my legs and a steady rhythm, he didn’t hold back from pounding into me like a madman. Erotic squelches of my cunt began to fill the room as the fresh smell of sex began to linger in the air, the sounds of moans, rough pants and groans added to the mixture. I could barely feel my legs from the way his thighs rammed into me, but I could fully feel the hard strokes of pleasure ringing through my entire body as his pelvis occasionally hit just right against my budding clit while kissing deep against my cervix with each thrust. Groans and faltered breaths falling heavy from his lips.

I bit my lip, trying not to make too much noise with the thin walls of the hotel, practically bursting with sweet moans with each ounce of pleasure that began to well up in my throat.

James removes one of his hands from my legs and leans forward a little, folding me over and trapping me down as he continues to pound me, sliding his thumb over my bottom lip and asking for entrance where I graciously let him press his thumb against my tongue. He holds my mouth open, grinning at my obedience and the erotic look on my face.

“Now, darling. There’s no need to be quiet. Let me hear your pretty little sounds.” He purrs, and he chuckles a little as my cunt squeezes tighter against him, my face furrowing with the intense feeling. I try to release the hold I had on my moans, my mouth still forced open as he fondles the inside of my mouth, sliding under my tongue and over the roof of my mouth, occasionally I suck on it and he flashes an amused smile at me. My toes curl from over his shoulders, still trapped in his grip as he drills me into the mattress. My moans begin to erupt louder as I feel the warmth and pressure of an orgasm building inside of me.

“Fh- I’m g’na!” My words struggle as I moan, coming out as pathetic whines interrupted by the sweet sound of pleasure and laboring pants.

I see a new smile paint his face and pulls his thumb away and wraps his arm around my leg and presses the wet thumb against my clit, my back instantly arches and I let out a small scream, my head pressing into the mattress as he changes his speed to long and languid thrusts that slide almost all the way out before slamming back against my cervix causing me to visibly shiver. Each thrust pulled a moan from my throat. He watches my cunt and the way it tries to suck him back in each time he slides away.

His gaze lifts to me again and watches my breasts from my chest arching up from the curve of my spine. My thighs begin to shake as a hot burst erupts and I practically see stars as I orgasm on his cock. I let out a long scream, moaning loudly, which presents a satisfied grin on James’s face. He follows suit after, continuing to fuck into me after my orgasm until he quickly pulls out and pumps himself against my stomach, painting it and my breasts with his cum. I shudder, my eyes rolling back a bit for a moment as my eyelashes flutter, my brain and body feeling practically numb as I felt lightweight and fucked stupid.

James shudders for a second, his breath stuttering as he orgasms, his gaze quickly lifting from my cum painted body to my face where he places a tender hand to my cheek and lowers my legs from his shoulders.

“My darling, you are marvelous.” He sighs heavily as I slowly come back to reality, curling up into his chest. “How did I ever find a woman like you?” A rhetorical question, and one that made my heart squeeze.

I let out a pleased sigh as I wrap my arms around him, our chests flush together. He doesn’t seem to mind the stick of our skin from sweat and our mutual orgasms, and neither do I. Listening closely to each other’s heartbeats and slowing breaths as we lay in the now sex soaked bed together. I feel slightly relaxed from the smell of his cologne and my perfume mingling with that sweet deep smell of sex, the air thick of it now.

“James, can I be honest?” I ask, breaking the silence with my soft, slightly hoarse, voice.

“Always, dear.” His voice humming near my ear as he rests his arm over mine and around my back, encasing me in his grip.

“I don’t want to leave the hotel…I really like it here, with everyone. With you.” I admitted, knowing that after everything the conversation had been settled inside of him, but something in me wanted to explain myself and be open with him.

“I know. I know, princess.” James says comfortingly, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead as I raise my gaze, sliding my head against the covers to look up at him. Staring into those coke zero eyes I love so much.

“I wonder…what does this make us now?” I ask. James and I had never been so intimate in our relationship, everything being boiled up to this moment.

“Whatever you want it to be…” He says in this deep, soft melodic voice that makes my heart flutter and my consciousness feel lightweight. I decided to think about it later, just laying my head closer into his chest, nestling tighter in his arms, my eyes fluttering closed as I fell asleep. Hoping that this time, I might be able to wake up in his arms for once.

Let me love you, don’t mind my desperation,

Let me hold you, not just for a vacation,

But for real and for forever,

Make it real life, let me be a real wife to you,

Girlfriend, lover, mother, friend,

I adore you

-Lana Del Rey

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow

[creedslove]

DON'T DO THIS 💍

Husband's best man!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: He loves you and he can't bear the possibility of seeing you marry another man

Warnings: angst, cheating, unrequited love, mentions of smut

A/N: idk besties, I came up with the idea of a short drabble because of this picture as it gives serious Joel Miller vibes, but not just any kind of Joel Miller, it gives me best man at a wedding Joel Miller kinda vibes 🤩😜

0.9k words

“Please don't do this”

Joel's voice made you jump even if his tone was low, just a little bit more than a humble whisper, making you snap back into reality and turn around to face him.

“What are you doing here, Joel?! You were supposed to be at the altar now, right next to my fiance!” you replied in an urgent, almost annoyed tone.

Joel shouldn't be there, it wasn't his place to be, he was nothing more than your soon-to-be husband's best man, he shouldn't just barge into the room where you'd spent the last few hours getting ready for your wedding, where you'd put on your wedding dress, done your hair and makeup. It was invasive, not only that, it was heartbreaking and tempting. He was a man, a real one, he was broad and strong, he shouldn't be looking at you the way he was; sad and disappointed eyes as he took a step further and placed his hands on your side, locking you in a grip you didn't actually want to break free from, but you knew you had to.

“I thought I could do it, I thought I could watch you marrying him, but I can't, darling, I want you for myself, I know I'm selfish and I have no right to ask you this, but please, don't do this..”

“Joel, what we did… it was a one time thing, I shouldn't have happened, it wasn't right, I cheated on my fiance with you to begin with… I was upset and you were there, you held me and made me feel better. It was special, but it was wrong” you could see the way his face fell, he wanted you, he was willing to give you anything if you stepped out of that crazy idea of getting married and finally stayed with him. Joel wasn't stupid, he was well aware of the fact he didn't have much to offer, but he could give you his heart and all the love he felt for you. The love he gathered through the years, ever since his friend introduced you to him. He tried really hard to let go of that feeling, to play it off as a silly crush, a passing crush, but it was impossible. All Joel could think of was you. Your eyes, your smile, your voice, how beautiful and intelligent you were; suddenly, that man who swore he would never let any other woman break his heart, saw himself at your feet. Allowing you to break his heart a little bit every single day without even knowing. He just watched you from afar, loving you, knowing the man you'd chosen wouldn't treat you as good as Joel would. He wanted you and it killed him he couldn't have you.

You, on the other hand, didn't dismiss Joel from your life. Since the day you met, you were taken aback by the fact he was handsome, gentle, sweet, hard-working and it still baffled you a man like himself wasn't taken; you had a soft spot for Joel, he was attractive, but at the same time you were engaged, your fiance was Joel's friend and absolutely nothing would ever come from that.

Until the night you showed up knocking on his door; you weren't proud of that, it shouldn't have happened. But when you saw your fiance walking through the door covered in glitter and smelling like cheap perfume, you knew something had happened in that bachelor party. You weren't a jealous type, but things had a limit and you were certain it had gone way beyond a simple stripper lap dance. No matter how many times you questioned him, even if he wasn't that drunk, you knew your fiance wouldn't tell you the truth, there was only one man who wouldn't falter being honest with you.

Joel Miller.

So when Joel saw you standing in front of him, mascara smeared down your eyes as you blinked away tears, showing him all the hurt you felt after being played by your fiance, he had no doubts. That motherfucker didn't deserve you, he did. So he tried his best to show you he could be good for you, he could be what you were missing out, the way he held you that night, how you asked him for more and more. He stayed between your legs for what it felt like forever and it wasn't enough for him; he wanted to taste you for the rest of his life.

When dawn came, so did reality shattering him once more, you had got dressed and left, asking him not to call you again, which he did, against all his will. But when he saw the opportunity of seeing you again before you could make the worst mistake of your life, he didn't hesitate. Seeing you in a wedding dress was certainly bittersweet. He loved and dreaded that sight in the same intensity. You looked perfect, but you weren't his.

“You don't love him, you know that, it's not too late. You can be happy, you know I can make you happy, all I ask for is a chance and nothing more”

His hand stroked your cheek as you tried hard to fight the desire you felt for him. What if you simply dropped everything behind and went with Joel?! Would it be too bad? For once not looking back and focusing on your happiness first?! You wish you could do it, but unfortunately it was impossible.

“I'm sorry Joel, but no, I won't don't this”

You said and watched pure disappointment in his eyes, the way his hands let go of your body and he nodded, pursing his lips. The rejection stung so hard he didn't think it was possible, but he couldn't force you into loving him. He wished you good luck in nothing more than a whisper and left you, without looking back.

____

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 5: Friends to Lovers

Previous Chapter: Reader Suggestions

Summary: A bit of chaotic Deja Vu ensues as the Writer finally gets a handle on this story.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, Smut, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Lore, Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction, Self-Aware Fic

Note: I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE (the dedication post not the chapter, I write on my own time and I'm not gonna apologize for that) so please consider this a chapter dedicated to @undead-supernova for her birthday. Love you August. Thanks for being a little gremlin with me sometimes. Hope you enjoy it.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You really didn't know how you fit into this story.

You were utterly and sincerely baffled.

But you could say that about a lot of the stories you found yourself in; this one felt like it was just to make you suffer, more than anything else.

"What's on your mind Wanderlust?" Sawyer groaned as he collapsed beside you on the sand. He held out a water bottle--still a bit cold, meaning he'd just come back from refilling them at the caves--which you took with a grateful nod. "You're staring into that fire as if it's about to tell you the meaning of life."

"I think that's exactly what I'm hoping it does," you told him honestly before taking a swig.

"Well if you find out," he laid back with his arms folded behind his head. "Be sure to share with the class."

You rolled your eyes at him and then kept up with your pity party.

To add to the list of things you didn't know: Sawyer was also one of them.

He was a shithead of the first degree, dangerous, shifty, rude, selfish, suspicious...and somehow the only person you consistently talked to here on the island.

You'd actually been sitting next to him on Flight 815; he'd been a little salty but nice enough to let you have the arm rests, even asked if you were alright when the turbulence began and you began panicking.

For all the years that you'd been driving around the states, you'd never been on a plane before; you thought it was karma that some Writer would not only put you on the longest flight in existence for your first go, and then a plane crash for your second.

But you appreciated Sawyer's compassion, and the subsequent companionship that he shared with you. The care. The protection. The no-strings-attached, no-questions-asked nature of your relationship.

"You have a boyfriend back home kid?" he asked abruptly.

Spoke too soon.

"Loaded question," you snorted, thinking back to the many loves you'd had throughout this strange life you lived.

"Always the bridesmaid?"

"Something like that." You kicked his leg. "What about you?"

"Married to my work, sweet pea," he grinned, eyes still closed. He must've heard you roll your eyes at him. "I'm sure you're curious about why I'm asking."

"The question crossed my mind, if you'd like to share with the class," you parroted his words.

"Might've heard through the grapevine that someone has a little crush on you."

"Hmmm." You hoped the judgment and distaste was clear.

"Figure it was my duty as your unofficial big brother to scare them away before they started sniffing too close. 'specially if you had someone back home waiting for you."

"Well, no one's waiting," you huffed a breath. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in a weird beach hookup either."

"I figured. I'll tell 'em to scram."

"Please don't be rude about it."

His eyes popped open and he pressed a hand to his chest.

"Now when have I ever been rude?" You kicked him again. "Alright, I'll be nice."

"Thank you."

There were a few beats of silence, filled with the crackle of the fire and the roar of waves just a few yards away.

"What are you looking for then?" Sawyer's voice broke through. "If it's not sex or love or whatever. What's got you looking so deep into that fire for?"

"I think..." You took a second, because all of those things were nice. But what did you want? What did you really want?

You inhaled deeply and then turned your gaze back to him with the hint of a smile.

"I think I just need a friend."

October 1985

You know what really sucked for Eddie about this whole fanfiction predicament?

The absolute unpredictability of it.

Just as you'd explained to him, he actually felt like he was playing a constant game of DnD. The only problem--well, one of many problems, actually--was that the Dungeon Master had no plans, didn't know what they were doing, and was making it all up as they went.

Which is why he suddenly found himself back in time once again, practically at the beginning of the school year, after a shitty, hot October day where everything that could've gone wrong did.

"It's almost like this Writer hates my guts or something," he grumbled as he sifted through the disarray in his locker. "Making me repeat my repeat-repeat-senior year over and over again."

He let the irritation fester within him all day until the end of the day so he could complain to you--and you'd hopefully agree to some under-the-shirt-over-the-bra action on his couch as consolation--only to find your trailer dark and your car missing by the time he got home.

"Great, just great," he grumbled and trudged inside.

For the rest of the night, he did what he always did when he was looking for comfort.

Pizza, Television, Recorded Reruns of Port Geneva.

He sat on the floor, worked on his homework, and munched on his large extra-pepperoni for hours, as you and Sam and Bonnie had your misadventures. A little voice in the back of his head urged him to just get up and try calling you whenever he hit the pause button to complain, but he ignored it and instead kept on complaining.

About school, about life, about himself. About never amounting to anything. It was very reminiscent of all the other "talks" he had with you...both the you on the screen and eventually the you in real life.

What he wouldn't give to just have you here right now to talk to, instead of this old habit that he thought he'd outgrown upon your appearance in Hawkins and the beginning of this unending hellscape.

He looked down at himself, at the homework and the pizza, and stopped to ask, "what the fuck am I doing?"

Was he really so pathetic that he couldn't control himself until you could be there? Or Wayne? Or any of his other friends? Had the turning back of the calendar just regressed him into the pathetic person he was before all of this started? Before you set foot into Hawkins?

Eddie got to his feet and hit the eject button on the VCR, fully intending to call it a night, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd just gotten used to.

This crash, however, started a ruckus. Again.

"Weird," he scoffed at the yelling and the dog across the way barking.

But who was he to pass up some good old Midwestern entertainment? Especially after the most lackluster night?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl of junk on the coffee table, slid the box of leftover pizza into the fridge, and stepped outside to get a prime spot on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

He'd just gotten that first drag of his cigarette and really took in the sights when it all made sense.

Or rather, it actually didn't make any sense.

Because he remembered the Mayfields on their porch yelling at the driver and Mrs. Mayfield threatening to call the police. He recognized that powder blue Volkswagen Beetle and the accompanying license plate. He knew, on instinct, exactly when the driver's door opened and the sneakered foot stepped out.

And then there you were. Looking around and begging the Mayfields not to call the cops, making a deal to pay for the damages.

The weirdest thing was that, even though his mind raced to put the pieces together, his heart ached with all of the emotions that he'd been through the first time he'd lived this night when you'd crashed into Hawkins from your adventures across the fictional universe.

But instead of muttering that it was all a dream like he remembered himself saying, he repeated "what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck" over again until you glanced over at him with an apologetic gaze that he recognized even from that distance.

All at once, he felt the calm wash over him. That's all he needed from you, one look, and everything began to feel worlds better.

"Jesus H. Christ," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in relief.

Eddie watched for a few moments longer as you wrapped up your conversation with the Mayfields, and he would've made the attempt to approach you once you wandered back to your car, if he didn't feel the puppet strings of the Writer and their words rest on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to speak them.

So he played the part, as he had gotten used to doing, and jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Seriously? Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. The Writer didn't need to make him do that; even after a few months, he was still pathetic for you. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could muster, and then went back inside as your car trudged across the trailer park.

Your door was unlocked when he ventured to your place in the middle of the night.

The Writer, unfortunately--or maybe thankfully--still gave him as many nerves and as much restlessness as he had the first night you were in Hawkins. Or maybe he was just nervous and restless wondering just what new hell there was in store for the two of you? Still he couldn't sleep, so instead of wait for the morning, he just made his way over to discuss it with you now.

He found you sitting atop your bedroll on the blue plaid sofa in your living room.

"Hey Cigarette Porch guy," you greeted him tiredly, reciting the words you originally greeted him with.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father," he didn't hesitate to recall, the moment the two of you officially met fondly etched into his memory forever. "You can just call me Eddie."

You share a smile and then pat the spot beside you on the couch.

"I'd offer you a drink, but uh...seems like I'm starting over again," you sighed. "Unless I can interest you in some good old Indiana tap water."

He shook his head, then closed the distance and dropped beside you.

"So what are we in for this time?" he asked. "I thought I was just in for another shitty day."

"Well," you paused and held your breath, then you grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I woke up in a motel room I didn't recognize and then felt the urge to get in my car and just drive. I felt...excited to go to a new place; I think I even said it out loud. 'I'm so excited.' But inside I was worried that I'd moved onto another world and left you behind."

It was like a pit opened in his stomach; he'd considered it before, your eventual departure. He'd come to believe that you would move onto your next life after some event--a death, a breakup, maybe some happily ever after after 50 years together, if he was lucky. But to lose you without any kind of warning?

"Shit," he pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. For your comfort and his own. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"It's ok," came the weak chuckle as you leaned into his embrace and nuzzled your nose into his t-shirt. "It's ok, we're just...starting over. The Writer is starting the story over; starting over is good sometimes. Maybe they figured out what they were going to do with us, instead of just play with us like little dolls in a dollhouse."

"Well, I'm an expert in starting over so..." he cracked a joke. "I was just thinking that earlier today, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well, if it's October again, it means I'm doing senior year for the...what is it...third-and-a-half time?"

You snorted and weakly slapped a hand to his chest, "well how dare they make you experience that fresh hell one more time."

"I guess if we're starting over, that means you can help me figure out how to pass my Civics quiz again," he recalled your first date. Study date.

You shot out of his embrace and grabbed his face in your hands, smushing his cheeks as you grinned, the somber tone in the living room finally dissipating.

"But that's the best part of rewrites," you explained. "You get to live all the best memories with people over again."

You told him about rewrites that you'd been through; stories that generally didn't change and some that changed drastically. He liked hearing the fondness of your voice when you talked about getting to meet so-and-so for the first time again, holding someone's hand, first dates.

"First kisses?" he asked through his still-smooshed lips.

"That's one of the best parts of rewrites," you winked and pecked a kiss against his mouth. Then again and again, until the two of you were smooching all over each other comically like Gomez and Morticia, giggling all the while.

And when it was time to say goodbye, both of you ready to say "hello" for the second first time.

"Hey," you greeted, somewhat out of breath when Eddie opened the door. It was a familiar sight: backpack slung over your shoulder, 6-pack of sodas dangling from your fingers, looking as gorgeous as you always did or at least he thought so. "Sorry if I'm late."

"No," he shook his head quickly and shifted to the side to let you pass into the trailer. "Right on time sweetheart. Hope you like pepperoni."

Of course you did. It was your favorite.

"It's my favorite."

He still felt the strong sense of triumph from knowing what your favorites were, even though the nerves of being around you for the first time had dissipated.

There was another kind of excitement now as you bit your lip and winked at him stealthily and made your way inside to get settled in the living room. Of course you knew he knew that pepperoni was your favorite. What the Writer didn't know was that pepperoni wasn't your only favorite, and they didn't know that he'd gotten half-pep, half-mushroom to surprise you.

How would they? He hadn't felt them as he'd called Pizzeria Uno, just those lurking strings leading him to the door once the pizza arrived.

The past few days had gone like this, where the Writer would control some aspect of your lives, and the two of you would test what the boundaries of this fanfiction were. It was a trick of yours, to feel some semblance of control in an uncontrollable situation, especially as things became out of character or too drawn out.

When the Writer seemed to be writing too much exposition about one thing or another, the two of you sat frozen in time. No talking, no movement as the world around you seemed to shift and morph at the will of your would-be-deity.

You'd silently challenged him to a staring contest over breakfast at Benny's as a water stain in the corner of the ceiling got bigger and dingier and became more of an eyesore.

Had Eddie really never noticed it or was the Writer just obsessed with it?

It was happening right now as his attention was drawn to the enticing softness of the sweater you had on...each piece of yarn knitted and woven together with such care, his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out and...

"So..." you cleared your throat. "Homework?"

"Yeah," he agreed, shaking himself out of his story-induced stupor. "Lemme put those pops in the fridge so they get cold first. Dr. Pep--Mr. Pibb?" He scoffed at the unexpected label, a laugh dead in his throat.

"Wh...do you...I thought you liked Dr. Pepper," he questioned.

"Why would you think that?"

"Be...because you got Dr. Pepper at Benny's!"

"If I don't have a choice, yeah Dr. Pepper is fine. But Mr. Pibb is my favorite," you laughed and shook your head in amused disbelief. "There's nothing like a slice of pepperoni and an ice cold Mr. Pibb."

Eddie was sure that there were no strings pulling him this way or that, and based on your body language, it didn't seem like the Writer was doing anything to you either. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to come up with any little tidbit that could prove some outside interference.

But then he realized...had The Writer noticed something about you that he hadn't?

Had he, Eddie Munson, number one fan of Port Geneva's--and you--not noticed that your favorite soda was Mr. Pibb?

Then a thought that didn’t really seem to be his echoed in his head.

What if he actually didn’t know anything about you?

No.

That was impossible.

He refused to believe it. It had to be the Writer who was manipulating things. Right?

He looked at the Mr. Pibb for a moment, then back up at you.

"So, uh," he hesitantly backed out of the living room to head to the kitchen. "Anything else shocking and unbelievable that I need to know about you? If we're gonna be neighbors...or friends...or whatever."

"Or whatever," you giggled, scrunching your nose, then pulled his notebook off the coffee table to distract yourself as you continued nervously. "Uh, ok let's see...I don't think there's anything too shocking and unbelievable that I hadn't told you at breakfast the other day. I'm from Port Geneva, I've been driving around for a while, I like to draw."

You flipped through a few pages in his notebook and then paused and pointed to the doodles in the margins of the page.

"And by the looks of this, so do you," you grinned. "These are cool."

"Cool?" he scoffed. "That...I was supposed to take notes for class and I ended up doodling for Hellfire Club the whole time. Ahem...Hellfire Club...my Dungeons and Dragons club at school."

"Oh yeah?"

"Planning a one-shot for my buddy Jeff's birthday in a world where Theodred doesn't die and goes on to become...well...it's just nerd stuff. You're not interested in any of that. Besides, we're supposed to be talking about you."

"Actually," you looked at him expectantly, "we're supposed to talk about your history quiz. But while we're on the topic of me, and history, and these nerd things in your notebook, I guess one shocking and unbelievable thing about me is that I'm actually a nerd too. I happen to like Tolkien."

It was his turn to shoot you a mocking "oh yeah?"

You rolled your eyes at him and then put his notebook down on the table, then held out your hand as though you desired a handshake. As soon as his palm touched yours, you introduced yourself.

"I actually like Tolkien. My mom got me a copy of the Silmarillion for my sixteenth birthday and if I could go anywhere in any universe, I'd like to see Middle Earth from the tippy top of Erebor. And I used to say that I'd settle for the grand canyon, but I've already been there. So I will accept nothing less than Erebor itself. Now you."

You continued to shake his hand as he spoke.

"I'm Eddie Munson. The first time I read the Hobbit, my dad had dropped me off at the library and someone had misplaced it in the Kids section. And I've tried to get my band to play a rendition of Misty Mountains before, but we can't agree on whether or not there should be a harp in it. If we could even find a harp in Indiana like Thorin's."

There was a sparkle in your eye as you began to say "actually I have a funny story about Thorin and his harp," when you froze.

Eddie watched you and got increasingly worried as you fought some kind of internal battle just behind your eyes. He could see the little changes in your expression, from joyful to nervous to angry, and he reached out to rest his hand on yours and let you know that he was right there.

That it would be alright.

"Why don't," you finally spat out forcefully, slightly out of breath, "why don't we try this? We study a little bit at a time, and as we go, we share a new fact about each other? That way by the end of the night, you'll be ready for the quiz, and we'll be good...friends?"

There was something biting about the word friends, almost like you didn't want to say it.

Honestly, it stung him a little to hear it.

Friends.

Weren't you two supposed to fall in love? Hadn't that been what this fanfiction was in the first place? That this Writer shipped you two together? And shit, even though he knew that he could kiss you once the Writer relinquished control, he was kind of looking forward to having this first date all over again, just like you'd discussed.

But now everything was turning out differently.

Not bad, just different.

It was your turn to turn your hand in his and squeeze, then you asked "how does that sound Eddie? Friends?"

His eyes darted between yours, and he felt the pressure build, the pressure to agree and say yes, as thoughts that the Writer put into his head flew through him at light speed.

"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Friends sounds good."

And friends it was...until it wasn't anymore.

You and Eddie seemed to do all of the things that you did before. Study sessions and Saturdays spent together watching movies and putzing around town until it was time for you to go to work.

Only instead of holding hands and smooching and all of the things that really punctuated the romance in a relationship...there were just awkward, forlorn glances and tingles along your skin when your fingers happened to touch.

God damn, he hadn't had this kind of crush since he was in middle school. The last serious crush he had besides that...was on you.

And it was weird to physically feel all of the effects of a crush on you, thanks to the Writer, while mentally being frustrated knowing that dates and kisses and everything were just around the corner. If only the two of you would be allowed to get over that hurdle.

"It's called a slow burn," you laughed one night when he complained to you on the phone, away from the watchful eye of the Writer. You seemed to be taking the glass-half-full approach, where Eddie just missed you so goddamn much. "And I guess the Writer is really letting us simmer."

"I'm gonna melt if they don't let us be together soon." Eddie complained, semi-seriously, basking in your laughter. "Call me Eddie Mun-stew."

"They've got us in a crock pot," you entertained his joke.

"8 chapters on low," he grinned. "Like Uncle Wayne's famous chili. I just want to kiss you, is that such a crime?"

"Apparently it is."

"What if I've forgotten how to kiss?"

"I sincerely doubt that you have. I'm more worried that the Writer will make it a bad first kiss."

"Like if we bonk heads and I break your nose or something?"

"Oh god, let's not give them any ideas," you groaned. "Look, whenever they decide it'll happen, it will. And it's gonna be great."

"Maybe they won't let me make you think I'm a virgin this time."

"You have to admit, that was hilarious."

"It was not!"

Your only response, which caused him to hang up on you, was to cackle loudly into the receiver.

But the Writer must've sensed the antsy energy between the two of you because it happened.

A first kiss. A second first kiss.

You were actually at the movies this time, instead of on Eddie's couch.

The Writer had given Eddie an incredibly long sequence where he and his pals from Hellfire practiced all of the moves he could have finally made on you now to let you know he might be interested.

First, there was the raising of the armrest between the two of you--exaggeratedly performed by Jeff, who played Eddie, and Eddie, who played you.

Next, there was the meeting of the fingers in the popcorn bucket. Gareth was able to do an uncanny impression of Eddie's "don't take all the milk duds" and the awkward laugh he made as the blush dusted his cheeks.

Then there was the old yawn and stretch, which wasn't awkward at all to have Dave do to him.

"Have you ever done this to someone before?" Eddie snarked, as Dave practically squeezed him against his side. It had been more of a grab than a casual drape of his arm around Eddie's back.

Needless to say, his own execution of the move was a lot smoother.

"And then you just kiss her," his friends said in tandem.

"Gee thanks," Eddie scoffed at them, "I know how to kiss a girl, you shitheads."

Except when it came down to it, he was nervous. Hadn't you told him that the best part of rewrites was having those firsts again? What if it was terrible? What if he actually did break your nose?

"Eddie, are you shaking?" you leaned away from him and looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Shit, had he been shaking?

"This movie is just," he cleared his throat and glanced up at the screen; thank god he chose something spooky for Halloween. "Really scary."

"Oh...kay," you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but sat back in your seat.

Then you leaned into him a little more.

And glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.

And he couldn't help but lean a little closer, and duck his head, until his breath was fanning against your cheeks.

Until you inched closer and closer.

And your lips brushed.

Damn, this Writer must've been a hopeless romantic because the kiss was everything they said a first kiss should be. Sunshine and rainbows and birds singing and rockets red glare fireworks at the soft press of your lips on his.

It was here that Eddie realized how much he'd missed kissing you, like...really missed kissing you. You'd taken the task of this rewrite a little too seriously, worried that in some way it might inspire the Writer...or possibly even mess with their inspiration.

The two of you were here now, though, and finally all of that waiting had paid off.

So of course you took advantage of it.

Actually, you were a little more eager than Eddie even was, because your hands were on him immediately. One hand found his waist and the other on his jaw, thumb softly caressing his stubbly skin as your lips pressed together. He liked the firmness of your lips, he liked the way you'd waited for him to make the move before taking what you both eagerly wanted.

Writer be damned.

Eddie pulled you closer, using the arm hooked around your shoulders as leverage, and then tried to use the other hand to hike one of your legs over his--you couldn't be close enough--but the damned popcorn bucket got in the way.

He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at the obstacle, basking in the little whine you made at the loss of contact.

In fact, you both looked down at the popcorn, and then at the screen, then at each other.

And you both must've decided that "fuck it" was the correct response, because soon the popcorn bucket was on the floor and you were giggling into each other's mouths as you melded back into one writing mass of limbs and kisses and caresses.

It was a joy to be reunited like this; there were some moments that Eddie was eager to move his hand this way or that way, but he felt the strings of the Writer pull him some other way. His own signature moves foregone in favor of something that they thought would be better. Fingers inched under clothing and into hair, lips chased down the column of a neck, and a leg was hitched over a hip until you were practically grinding on each other for all the world to see.

Suddenly a light was shined on you and you both froze, then jumped apart in shock. Your shoulders heaved and you turned towards the source of the light.

"Hey!" An usher shouted from the end of the row, getting the attention of the whole theater as they turned in their seats to stare at the two of you with your kiss-bruised lips and disheveled clothes. "Knock it off."

"Sorry," you apologized in tandem and shrunk back into your seats.

In fact, the usher waited until the armrest was securely back in place between the two of you before he left.

Once he was gone, though, you snickered and slyly lifted the armrest so you could cuddle back together.

"It's good to be back," Eddie whispered and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"Ok," you took a breath in and stared at the bed. "So...how do we start?"

Eddie looked at you incredulously and then scoffed.

"You're asking me?" He chuckled and ran a hand into his hair.

"Yeah, I'm asking you," you nodded sincerely and then you gestured up towards the ceiling. "Because clearly they don't know."

You'd been making out on the couch when you'd both decided to take it to the bedroom. But when you got there, things seemed to fizzle out, and now you were just waiting for the Writer's next move.

Actually, the two of you had been waiting for that to happen for a little while. Not that either of you could complain. All of the little scenes that had been written developed your relationship into something worth a story being told about it--dates and cuddling and kissing.

Better than some of the bullshit that the Writer had previously pulled. No bouts of interference or jealousy from Steve Harrington or Chrissy Cunningham. It seemed like a normal relationship, and everything the two of you wanted.

There was still the underlying disbelief and mystery that surrounded you, Eddie's favorite character from Port Geneva, actually being in Hawkins, but in reality the two of you knew that whatever the Writer had planned would truly be a drop in the water when it came to what was actually happening to you.

You'd take this love story while you could get it.

However, the one hurdle that you couldn't seem to get over...was sex.

Well, the two of you could certainly get over it.

It was the Writer that couldn't.

And the cockblocking was getting old.

Making out on the couch, Wayne walked in unexpectedly and ruined the mood. Someone knocked on the back of the van when the two of you were getting hot and heavy parked up at the quarry.

Shit, even phone sex was ruined.

The Writer seemed to be attuned to the two of you now and anytime there was any hint of an arousal to be had, they would be there to effectively crush it.

"Maybe they're just a bad writer?" Eddie shouted upwards, throwing two middle fingers into the air, as though The Writer would know.

"Alright, let's not get too heated," you chuckled and grabbed his arms to pull them back down. "It's probably not as easy as we think it is."

"The dick goes in," Eddie pouted. You stared at him with some sense of disbelief. He was quick to recover it with "and other things happen. I know how to warm a girl up. They should just let us get to it, then it would be easy to put it on paper."

There was a spark of inspiration in your eye at that.

"Alright then, Mister know-it-all," you challenged him, "maybe we should put that logic to the test."

"W-what do you mean?" he questioned. "How?"

"Well, what would you do? How would we start?" you asked in return. "Actually...you admitted to writing a few little stories; have you ever written a sex scene about me?"

Eddie felt the heat build up in his cheeks and you grinned wickedly.

"Oh my god, you have."

"Shut up, ok?" He inhaled deeply, held, and then exhaled his response. "Ok yes but it was once and can you blame me?"

You cackled and did a little shimmy.

"You're smart and funny and gorgeous and I'm in love with you," he explained and then caught himself in shock. "Er, I mean, I..."

He fumbled over his words but your gaze got soft, and you leaned in to press your mouth to his.

It was all the reassurance he needed.

Then he got lost in you. Your lips, your taste, the feel of your hands on him, the feel of you beneath his hands. It was a sensory overload but it was a welcome one. To be surrounded by all of you? He couldn't have written it as well as it was to simply experience it.

That's how he felt about everything he'd experienced with you so far, though. Why should this be any different?

You tugged on his clothes and he tugged on yours. You fumbled to get onto the bed, chasing each other as you scrambled up towards the pillows; you refused to let each other's mouths stray too far though.

"You know," Eddie panted as he pulled away from you to pull his t-shirt over his head. "Maybe the Writer was onto something, though; I really like kissing you."

"Uh huh," you scoffed, your own shirt gone, and you fumbled with the buttons of your jeans. "Do you wanna stop then?"

"Fuck no," he responded and ducked his head to your bare stomach.

His fingers fought with yours on your waistband as he kissed up the softness of your belly, then the dip between your breasts, then up to your neck.

"You know I'm really good at giving hickeys," he muttered into the corner of your jaw. The words tumbled out of his mouth, almost like they weren't his. It took him to realize that they weren't actually his. They were The Writer's. Maybe this was working after all. "Like, really good."

"Put your money where your mouth is Munson," came your reply as your hand slipped into his waistband.

And it was such a strange sensation, maybe just for Eddie, maybe the both of you, when your hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed and he sucked on your pulse like his life depended on it.

Pleasure definitely, and maybe pain; a little mortification and a lot of confusion.

The crescendo of moans from the two of you that your brains said sounded like music but all your ears heard was utter filth. The difference between what the Writer demanded--what they wrote--and what the two of you experience.

And then you released each other, and looked into one another's eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"What is this?" Eddie chuckled into your neck. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," you mirrored him. Your free hand reached up and caressed his face, fingers brushing into his bangs. "But I wouldn't do this with anyone but you."

The rest of your clothes were shed, then, and more kisses were shared. You explored each other's bodies with hands and eyes and tongues. He liked the sounds you made when he licked his way down your body and finally got to taste you when he reached your core.

He vaguely wondered what it was the Writer was describing as he found the spots that made you moan and scream and shatter. Was it the heady taste of you? Or the weight of your thigh hiked over his shoulder? The feeling of your fingers in his hair? And then when things were reversed, when he sunk into you? What did you feel? Did you feel the weight of him on your body, the sweet affirmations he whispered into you, or the way your thighs pulled him closer? The need to have him in you and around you?

Did they write about the slow build of pleasure between you? The chase of it as he bucked into you and you pulled him deeper? Did they know the exact moment that your hands reached down to press into the spot where you connected?

What was it that a Writer experienced when the characters they wrote about shared those intimate moments together? Did they feel their own sense of lust at the thought of bodies melding into one another? Did they feel a sense of shame or intrusion?

Or maybe they felt left out? That this love, this experience, would never really happen to them? Maybe it was just some facsimile with their own partner? Or could this only ever experienced secondhand through words written on a page, never to truly be had on their own?

Eddie paused and looked down at you--at the scrunch of your eyes as you touched yourself, as you touched him, and moaned his name--and he did his best to banish the Writer from his mind.

From this room.

Because this truly was something that should only belong to you and Eddie.

Before everything faded to darkness, before whatever "scene" came to a close, you reached your peaks together.

Because strings or no strings, whether the writer existed or not, whether this was real or fanfiction, it was just the two of you.

You and Eddie.

Together.

"I love you."

Next Chapter: Lemon Coming Soon

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ║ ❝𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I would like to apologize with how long this took me to write, I will admit, I was too busy planning out a Series for Striker (Helluva Boss). Also, I added another chapter so it’s gonna end with twelve chapters!

Word Count ➳ mentions of violence, blood, sexual content, groping, pet names (Darlin’), swearing, oral (M), mentions of selling drugs (Adderall), alcohol use…

Content Warnings ➳ 2k

JUDAS MASTERLIST

IT WAS A COUPLE OF HOURS AFTER RICK LEFT YOUR APARTMENT.

Your coffee machine was working overtime with the amount of cups you consumed. You couldn’t sleep with the constant texts from Lori and her mother dragging you over the coals about leaving a perfect man like Shane.

If you couldn’t avoid their words awake, you couldn’t find an escape in your dreams, you couldn’t escape everyone’s goddamn opinions. You paced around your apartment, cleaning and reading, reading and cleaning… And they were getting to you. You were starting to feel like you made a mistake.

You had never seen Lori angry, the last time you recounted would be on her wedding day, you couldn’t remember why but just the furious look on her face. And now, to drag her pregnant self to your doorstep and into your safe place, you couldn’t forget it.

No matter how many cups of coffee or the pages you flipped or the mirrors you wiped down or the batter you mixed. It was all starting to become too much to handle.

And when you heard knocking on your door, you were sure it was her again, ready to scream at you once again. You tried to ignore it, but it seemed to get louder and louder by the second. Whoever was on the other side was persistent.

You sucked it up and was ready to curse them out until you saw Daryl. For a moment, everything fell to relief until you saw the bruise over his left eye, a split lip, and bloody knuckles.

Both of you stared at each other. None knew what to say until he attempted to step forward, his voice was gruff and you couldn’t comprehend what was said. You remembered bringing him inside and sitting him down on your chair, asking all kinds of questions.

“What the hell happened?”

“How did you get this?”

Daryl remained silent, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. His eyes looked empty and he never pulled his hands back when you cleaned them, it was only when you reached to take off his jacket and shirt and stood behind him is when he pulled away.

You didn’t know and he didn’t want you to know. He couldn’t. You took a couple of steps back and turned the other way to let Daryl handle the rest of his injuries. You felt even worse now.

Did you overstep?

It was only until the two of you were in your room, that you still bore the shirt he left behind, more like it was stolen from him. You refused to give it back when he was leaving for work.

He laid his head against your shoulder, taking in your perfume, his cologne, and cigarettes.

“Daryl-”

He hushed you with a kiss, pushing you down onto the bed, his hands sliding under the shirt to grope your breasts.

“Please.” You heard him whisper in your ear. “Help me, would ya?”

And you listened, ripping off his leather jacket but letting him take off his shirt himself. You knew what he wanted, after all, he too fucked you mindless and he made you think about him.

But even if he was able to fog his mind with nothing but you, you couldn’t do the same. Your mind wouldn’t go blank and think about how good he felt inside of you or how he knew what made you click.

It was early in the morning, around seven. You had a freshly brewed cup of coffee as you sat back on your recliner, legs crossed as your eyes were glued to under the sofa. You could see the corner of the paper peeking out. Your nails tapped the mug.

“That guy isn’t who he seems to be.”

You scoffed to yourself. How desperate is Shane that he needed to have a background check on someone because you rejected him?

It was baffling, you never thought a man like Shane could go this far. You always held him in high regard, you had respect for him even if he got around a lot. But all the women you spoke to said that he was kind and caring, a boyfriend everyone would want.

But you never understood why he had so many girlfriends, he too said they were the best, rarely were bad ones. He once said that he planned on proposing but then they broke up, he refused to say anything about it and she ignored all your texts so you stopped contacting her.

You set the mug on the coffee table and bent down to push the paper back. You then jumped when you felt a hand on your rear, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Dammit Daryl!” you slapped his hand away but smiled when you got back up.

His hair was still wet from the shower, he wore a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. His leather jacket hung over the arm of the sofa. “Somethin’ under there?” He asked you.

You shook your head, grabbing your hot mug. “I was lookin’ for the remote, thought it was there.”

Daryl chuckled, walking to your kitchen. “What’s with the damn coffee?” You heard him say,

You followed him, seeing him pour himself a cup. “If you don’t like it, you can gladly find some other apartment to crash in.” Placing your hands on your hips. “How long you plan on stayin’?”

“Don’ like me ‘ere?” He blew on his coffee a few times before taking a sip, licking his lips.

“You know I do.” You retorted, leaning against your counter. “I’m worried ‘bout you. You show up to my place without a warnin’, all bloody ‘n shit, and you still never told me what happened.”

“Ya really wanna know?”

“I mean… If it’s alright.”

Daryl nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.” He replied. “Shit jus’ got rough at work. Things could’ve gone worse if my brother wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I work at a bike shop, the customer wasn’t happy with the cost of fixin’ his shit bike.”

“A bike shop, really? And here I thought you worked at a cafe.” You joked.

Daryl lifted an eyebrow. “Ya screwin’ with me?”

You snorted loudly, giggling at his reaction. “No shit!” He rolled his eyes at you. “So, where is your shop?”

“North, jus’ into the mountains.”

You hummed. “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“When I was gonna take off your shirt, I-”

“Ya ain’t gotta apologize for shit. Ya were tryin’ to help. Ma fault for not sayin’ anythin’.”

“Well, it ain’t normal for you to come to my place unexpectedly. But I’m glad to see you okay.” You reached over to touch his eyes, grazing over them. “I’d give it a couple of weeks, are you in pain?”

Daryl hummed. “Jus’ some throbbin’.” He set his cup into the sink, his hands coming to your hips. “But I’m sure ya can treat it as well.”

You smirked, that same hand coming down his eye.” Then you gotta tell me what you need.” Your hand trailing down his chest and to cup his semi-hard cock.

“Put yer mouth on it.” He immediately said, keeping eye contact. Even when you got on your knees and slowly pulled down his pants and you grasped his cock.

You could see him getting frustrated, grabbing the back of your head and giving it a push. “Keep your hands to yourself, Daryl.” You told him. “Touch me again and I’ll leave you like this.”

He cursed under his breath, throwing his head back when you jerked him off. “C’mon, darlin’.” He let out a deep breath.

Daryl shuddered when he felt your mouth come around his cock. “Ya sure love playin’ with-”

“(Y/N)! I’m sorry I got-!” Amy burst through the door with Andrea by her side. It was like time froze, her eyes making contact with Daryl’s.

You scrambled to get away, hiding against the counters as Daryl struggled to put his pants back on. “The hell?!” He shouted, tucking himself away as he glared at the intruders. “Who the hell are ya?!” He demanded to know.

Andrea stepped forward, trying to remain calm. “You must be Daryl! We heard so much ‘bout you!” But you could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Y’all couldn’t knock?”

You got up, clearing your throat. “Daryl, this is Andrea and her sister, Amy.” You introduced them yourself. “So guys… What are you doin’ here?”

“...I got your text late.” Amy murmured, looking rather horrified. She did just catch you blowing off Daryl in the middle of your kitchen.

Andrea raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on her lips. “Looks like we interrupted somethin’.” Looking back at Amy, still looking scared. “Care to explain yourselves?”

You glanced at Daryl, who looked angry. “Nothin’. Daryl jus’ stopped by to hang out.”

“Uh-huh… Jus’ hangin’ out… On your knees.” She clicked her tongue. “Totally not traumatized.”

“Stop it.” Andrea whispered in her ear, smacking her shoulder. “So Daryl! Tell us how (Y/n) got on her knees for you.”

“Amy!”

“Hey! I deserve some answers after seeing that!” You argued with Amy, even if the situation was serious, it was still laughable. But you also had to calm the girl down after coming into your apartment like that. The text you sent did sound rather strange, she had never seen you send a message like that.

The two of you were still laughing it off while Andrea attempted to talk to Daryl but refused to look at her, his eyes glanced in your direction but moved off you.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He spoke rather quickly, she didn’t feel like they were intruding… No, she had that familiar suspicion that she had about many others.

“Daryl? As in Daryl fuckin’ Dixon?!”

“The hell y’all be lookin’ for Dixon?”

“If ya do find ‘im, let ‘im know he still owe me my fuckin’ money!”

“Looks like you got us into deep shit.” Any huffed, rubbing her eyes as she sat back in the car seat. “You nearly got us killed over some naggin’ feel you have.”

“Was I ever wrong ‘bout it?”

“No but each time you didn’t us killed!” Any screamed, wanting to pull out her hair. “Dad always told us we shouldn’t go where we aren’t welcomed and we clearly aren’t here.”

It was a couple of days after Andrea and Amy walked in on you and Daryl. Andrea had come to her college and dragged her into her car, not saying a word until they reached the mountains.

Andrea started the car, pulled out of the parking lot of the gas station and drove. “We jus’ ain’t askin’ the right questions!”

“You still wanna ask around? Have some faith in (Y/n). She knows who she’s getting into.”

“C’mon, don’t tell me that Daryl isn’t getting more suspicious by the hour.”

“…You ain’t wrong there either.”

“We’ll try again, jus’ one more.”

Any opened her phone, reading through her texts. “Try the Midnight Rumbling, my friends say it’s a popular spot.”

“Popular as in college popular?”

“Yeah but all sorts of illegal activities. She said that’s where she gets her Adderall.”

“Ain’t that the stuff you guys use to study?”

“Yeah, the campus has been lockin’ down on anyone who sells it. So, they come to this spot to get some of it.”

Andrea chuckled. “And you say I’m a bad influence.”

“Shut up and drive.”

“I gotta admit, at least The Golden Bite has clean floors.” Andrea’s arm was linked with her sisters, the two of them cowering by the loud banter from everyone and how glass was heard breaking.

The drinks were pouring by the second that she had a feeling that the bartender wasn’t even keeping count of each pour.

Amy gasped when she had to dodge two muscular men fighting, a crowd formed around them, shouting cheers and insults along with placing bets on whoever will bite the dust or win.

“I need a shower.” She groaned, following Andrea to the bar. “Feels like somethin’ is crawlin’ under my skin.”

Andrea nodded in agreement, looking over her shoulder. “…I think this might be a lost cause.”

“Now you’re seein’ it?”

“Ain’t you the one who said to come here?”

“It was a recommendation!”

“Bullshit-!”

“If it ain’t Judas! You better have my bike Dixon!”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @devilxbug , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @tremendousstarlighttragedy , @skulliecadaver-blog ,

⊰ Chapter 6 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 8 ⊰

[skellseerwriting]

What is Love? (Baby Don’t Hurt Me)

Love Clueless!Morgie x GN!Reader Part 1/2

Thank you anon for the wonderful ask! I never would have come up with this on my own. I was worried it was getting too long, so I’m splitting it into two parts (currently working on it!)

Word Count: 1,446

Warnings: Morgie worries others don’t like him, Morgie doesn’t know what love is, Morgan Le Fay is mentioned as being cruel, Morgie didn’t grow up being loved :(

Summary: Morgie doesn’t know what love is. Seeing you being loved by your friends leads him to ask you to teach him what love is.

What is Love?

This was a question that had recently began to plague Morgie Le Fay’s mind. People talked about loving other people; they loved their family, friends, partner, and even famous people who didn’t know they existed. But what did that even mean? Was the love they felt for their friend the same as their parent?

It was clear to him that those who felt love towards others felt a special sort of care to them, but what did that mean for Morgie? He didn’t really care about his mom. She was barely crueler than some of the other nasty people he had to deal with growing up; Was Morgie supposed to love her because she was his mom? Part of him felt that he should have, but the other part thought of nothing but apathy (but perhaps those two things could coexist? Is it possible to love someone and not like them?).

And then there were his friends. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the “good” kids throw around “love you” to their pals. When he tried using it, all of them (especially uliana) looked at him like he’d presented a dish of rotting food. Hook was the only one to give a rather forced laugh and clap him on the back with a “Don’t tell me those happy idiots are starting to rub off on you.” It was never brought up as Morgie never did it again, crushed. After that, though, he couldn’t help but question his feelings towards them.

Don’t be mistaken, Morgie does care for his friends, maybe even loves them. However, he’s come to recognize that unlike himself, the others were uncomfortable with the kind of care and affection they all lacked growing up. And this, in turn, made it impossibly more difficult to understand what love was, and how people felt it towards others. None of it made sense to him. He felt lost as the brainrot began to consume his mind over the course of a couple weeks.

He started to stare and obsess over the way he saw other friends behave. So often there were hugs exchanged, gifts given (friendship bracelets and charms were a common one, he noted), and sometimes even kisses on the cheek.

Why couldn’t he have that? Did his friends just not like him enough? But Hades and Mali were dating, and they never did stuff like that, and their relationship was really healthy!

It wasn’t until he saw you interacting with you friends that he did a double take on all he had observed. Everybody you ran into seemed to treat you like a close friend. Whether you were holding a door open or approaching someone to compliment some random little thing, everyone would smile when they saw you.

But you didn’t give anything to them. You didn’t hug any of them or otherwise engage in physical contact. If everyone else did that then why didn’t you? How come you had so many friends?

Maybe, he thought, just maybe, you knew something he didn’t; the secret to love. If it was some hidden knowledge you could share, perhaps he could learn how to make others love him. He could even get his friends to love him. All he needed to do was understand what love was.

He just wanted to feel loved.

“What?” You had a baffled expression, like he spoke some unknown language.

 “Will you teach me what love is?” He asked again in the exact same tone, thinking you couldn’t hear him over the school bell and clamor of hallway foot traffic.

Expression still the same, you looked left and right as if looking to see who might be listening.

“Why do you want to know? I thought villains hated love.”

Morgie scratched the back of his head, slightly sheepish.

“Yeah that mostly rings true. People like my mom and friends don’t seem to like the concept.” He went still for a second, pondering his next words slowly. “But… because of that, I don’t really understand it. Like, someone can like their partner, but if they go and show love to someone else it’s wrong. But it’s somehow not the same as friends, which people can have as many as they’d like- and I just don’t get it.”

Your eyes widened as you took all his words in. He really didn’t know what love was? Better yet, he -a villain- wanted to know what it was. Did the world turn upside down?

Regardless of your experience-based opinions, you found his sincerity endearing. Why wouldn’t you help him out? The worst that could happen is some mistreatment from the VK’s- and you were already used to that.

That was not the worst that could happen, you realized, as you sat at the foot of your bed.

After entering your dorm when school hours were over, Morgie had taken to staring at your room in abstract wonder. His fingers glided ever-so-gently over little knickknacks and bobbles you had collected over the years as gifts. Occasionally he would pick one up like it was a baby bird, carefully turning it over and setting it back down once he was done looking at it. Then he came across a picture frame of you and your family. You couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.

This was worse, you thought again. This was worse, because here, like this, he was just a boy. A normal kid like you and not one who tormented others. When you looked at his soft countenance, you felt your heart flutter at this seemingly innocent boy who didn’t know what love was.

Snapping out it, you pull his attention away from the photo by calling him over. He sat next to you right at the edge of your mattress. Then, he looked at you expectantly.

“What?” You asked.

“Well… are we going to start?”

Oh, right!

“Yes!” You began, smile returning. “Yes of course, the- uh- reason why you’re… here.” This was already going bad. Maybe you should just cut your losses.

“Well, to start, what do you know about love?” Better see what he knows first and go from there. He seemed to think for a moment.

“I know that when people love someone… they care for them deeply. But I don’t quite understand the differences between the different kinds of love. They all seem the same to me.” The longer he went on the more unsure he seemed. Then, he whispered “That’s not… bad, is it?”

Pushing your pity aside, you quickly respond with an “of course not. It’s not your fault. I could get why it’d be confusing to someone who doesn’t really feel love from others. That can also include people who don’t feel certain types of love themself. You seem like a really sweet and caring person, so I’m sure it won’t be to hard to help you understand.” You tried to not mentally slap yourself at calling him “sweet” but if his reaction was anything to go by, everything you said was motivational and cheered him up.

“Okay.” He grinned, then added. “Another thing I don’t get is why some people love others who don’t treat them the same. Like, I’ve seen so many friends just giving each other things and being all gushy and stuff. But they treat you the same despite you not doing all that gushy stuff. So why do they like you?” After he finished, he realized his last remark sounded incredibly rude. Luckily, you didn’t take it that way, and -despite how confusing his question- you seemed to know exactly what to say.

“That’s because of my love language.” you smiled.

“What’s that?”

Shaking your head gently, you held up five fingers. “Love. Language. The ways someone shows love, and the ways they prefer to receive it. There’s-” you start counting down on your fingers, looking up at the ceiling. “Gift-giving, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, and…” you racked your brain. “Words of affirmation.”

He looked at you incredulously.

“What do those mean?”

You smiled at him again as you pondered these last few minutes. You were unsure at first if you even wanted to do this, but now you were certain. At first you were afraid, but that disappeared the moment he entered your dorm.

Morgie was kind; you could see it. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t also mean. People are allowed to be complicated. But as you think about everything that you have in mind to help him learn what love was, one thing was for sure:

You were going to fall in love with him.

And you were looking forward to it.

“I’ll show you.”

Part 2