#my heart is so full of love please somebody take this from me

[civetside]

me and my endless lesbian yearning

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?

⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)

✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.

✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes. 

✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.

✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.

✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.

✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.

✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.

✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.

✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)

She Excites the Seven Seas

✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)

I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.

✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”

✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.

✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.

✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)

✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).

✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,

She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise

✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.

✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.

"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"

✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)

✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this

✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.

✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.

✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.

✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.

✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).

✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.

✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.

✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.

✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive  You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.

✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.

✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.

✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)

"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"

✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)

✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…

✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.

✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?

✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."

✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”

✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person. 

✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.

✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.

✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.

✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???

✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.

✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.

✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.

✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??

"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"

[celestialsequels]

couldn’t see me without you, babe ¡! ❞

— synopsis: you’re in love with the it girl of your high school.

— warnings: fluffy, make out session, the most wholesome thing i’ve ever written.

— w/c: 1.9k

— part 2

a/n: credits to @jenctrl for helping me with the kiss scene !

•

digital cameras fluttered with alacrity as she made her way through the bustling hallways. turning everyone's heads without hesitation. her hair bounced with every step she took. she was as gorgeous as a butterfly, so delicate yet capturing everyone’s eye more than anything.

that was yu jimin.

that was the school’s it girl, as you always said. everything about her made your heart turn into mush and your face turn redder than a smooshed cranberry. those quick little glances she’d shoot your way left you a mess. in the midst of the night, she was the only thing encapsulating your dreams, refusing to leave until dawn.

yeonjun was sick of you for always bringing up jimin; he knew how insanely head over heels you were for her. you constantly told him the little details ranging from quick glances to full blown eye contact sessions from across the room. he swore you were crazy the moment you blushed at the note in your locker that said something along the lines of “you left your key in class; here it is.” your mind just knew it was jimin. only yeonjun knew it was the janitor.

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“can somebody please tell me when cubism became a revolutionary movement in the history of art?” yeonjun asked the class as you two stood in front of the class to present your done-last-minute-but-looks-good-enough art project.

you scanned around the room hoping somebody would answer since you clearly didn’t know the answer, having only been running the entire day on two cans of red bull. you crossed your arms, zoning out at the giant window while anticipating the smart kid of the class to answer. you tapped your chin trying to remember if you had anything in your mind since you were the one who wrote these questions.

“1907-08,” a voice spoke out of the classroom, breaking you out of your thoughts. you could recognize that voice anywhere. the way you began to giggle had the entire class thinking if you were having a stroke since you weren’t really the type to even smile in art class. your face lighting up as delusions encased themselves in your mind.

“that’s right!” you yelled out faster than yeonjun could utter out a word, scaring the entire class in the process of doing so.

“of course it’s correct. i’m never wrong,” and there she was in all of her glory, leaning on the door frame with a smirk painted on her face.

you coughed out loud as you choked on your saliva from how intensely she was staring at you and only you. yeonjun nudged you with his elbow, subtly telling you to get your act together since you were being too obvious.

“how may i help you jimin?” your art teacher interrupted. since jimin was older than you and a heck ton smarter than you, it was evident that she was adored by every teacher.

“i wanted to borrow a student from your class for an interview. it’s for my psychology project, and i really need them right now,” jimin spoke, still sporting a smirk in your direction as she knew your art teacher would never say no to her. your heart was doing all sorts of things; dancing around like jojo siwa in karma while also moonwalking all the beats through your body. your palms felt sweat pool in the center from how nervous her gaze was making you.

“take your pick, jimin,” your art teacher offered.

“can i take y/n if that wouldn’t be a problem?” her voice was more giddy than the expressions on her face.

you swore the things around you had stopped moving, the only thing you could hear was your blood pumping through your veins, clearly turning your face red. yeonjun stepped on your foot this time causing you to squeak out loud before muttering out a quick “sorry”.

“not a problem at all. y/n, please accompany jimin with her project,” your art teacher smiled internally, noticing how you turned red, but he was hopeful this could be the start of something new. you quickly nodded, almost embarrassingly tripping over the cord of the projector below your feet as you made your way towards jimin. she eyed you up and down hastily, mentally telling you to follow her to wherever she wanted to take you. you kept your head down as your shyness made an awkward entrance, quietly following behind her. she paid no mind to you until you two finally approached the library. jimin stopped suddenly, catching you completely off guard as you walked straight into her back.

“pay attention, pretty girl,” you froze at the endearment, pinching yourself to recollect yourself out of this dream.

you two made your way inside the library after that little moment, finding a cozy spot in the corner. it almost made you feel as if you were on a date with jimin, with the way she tucked your chair in as you sat down. you truly wondered what that would feel like.

“hi,” you managed to say despite the fact that you were out of breath by just being in her presence. you were oddly confused as you realized she didn’t have her notes with her for the interview until you recalled that she’s smarter than you and doesn’t do her projects the day before they're due.

“so, i have a couple of questions for you. this interview is solely based on having a casual conversation,” jimin paused at your confused expression before continuing, “it’s going to have common questions such as likes, dislikes, etc. is that okay?” she asked you, to which you politely nodded with a smile.

“okay, perfect. first question then. what do you think about museums?” she piped.

“museums? i really like them. i think they capture a lot more than just what was. they hold stories of people who once loved, once hated, and once made the entire world think if there was more to art,” you answered with a small chuckle at the end. jimin simply stared at you, almost in awe with how you formulated your words, especially since she knew that you didn’t like talking much.

“i’ve never thought about it like that! next question, what is your favorite type of flower?” she asked while tucking her hair behind her ear.

“if i’m being honest, i really love the old fashioned roses. i don’t have much to say for that other than the fact that it symbolizes such timeless romance,” you chimed.

“okay how about—wait what’s your opinion on—,” before jimin could ask you another question, the bell for next period rang loudly, reminding you that you had a test today that you totally didn’t forget to study for.

“i’m so sorry! i just realized i had a test today. can we pick this up tomorrow or perhaps, later?” you rushed out.

“oh! that’s completely okay. i’ll see you tomorrow then, or if i run into you later on. thank you for your time!” jimin smiled at you as you grinned before making your way out of the library and onto your next class.

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students had begun to jet outside of classes, piling up in the halls as the final bell of the day rang. you tiredly walked to yeonjun’s locker, filling him in on what had taken place in the library today. you felt the red bull beginning to wear off as all your energy had vanished the moment you stepped out of the test. teachers were heading to meetings they had been informed of at the last minute, causing everyone to be kicked out of class almost right at the bell.

“so, that’s all that happened? isn’t it weird how the questions weren’t the least bit psychology related?” yeonjun questioned curiously.

“well, she did mention that it was an interview based on having a casual conversation, but she didn’t exactly explain it, so i didn’t question her,” you responded tiredly.

“hmm, okay. go get your stuff so we can leave. i need to return this book to the library before it closes!” he yelled as he ran to the library, practically pushing people out of his way.

you shook your head at his buffoonery and made your way to your locker. foolishly forgetting your code before trying again, letting out a grateful susurration as it opened. you grabbed your textbook along with your keys. you were just about to close your locker until you saw a note fall out of the corner. looking around, you swiftly picked it up before gently unfolding it.

“meet me in the art room after the final bell”

without even hesitating, you shut your locker and trudged to the art room only to find it locked. you opened the note again, which you had shoved inside of your pocket, to check if you were at the right room. you clicked your tongue as you waited for something to happen or somebody to at least open the door. you noticed how the hallway had gotten so eerie. the atmosphere of the hallway almost forcing you to get going until you suddenly felt somebody tug roughly at the back of your collar and pull you into the art room.

it was jimin.

“hi, y/n,” she shyly smiled at you as you stared at her in surprise.

“hi, jimin. i wasn’t expecting that strength,” you tried to joke until you realized how horrible of an attempt it was.

before you could say anything else, you saw her rushingly dig into her bag for something. she slowly pulled out a rose from her side pocket and handed it to you, not letting you utter a word as she placed her finger on your lips, almost stilling you out of your mind. you blushed but didn’t dare to say anything.

“so, earlier during that ‘interview’ you mentioned you really liked museums, so i got us two tickets to the art museum downtown,” jimin said, taking your hand, gently placing the ticket in your palm, letting her fingers linger along your skin.

“jimin, i-i honestly don’t—you’re the sweetest little thing ever,” you gazed at her lovingly as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“you don’t have to say anything, y/nnie. i just want you to come with me,” she whispered.

she slowly tucked your hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. you two locked eyes before she cupped under your jaw, bringing your lips near hers. you thanked whatever higher power there was for this moment just before you closed your eyes and let her take the lead.

as soon as her lips hit yours, you knew you were doomed for however long you were going to live this lifetime. butterflies erupted in your stomach while your heart leaped out of your chest in bliss. her soft lips continued to move against yours as your hands remained on her waist, pulling her in closer than ever. you two paused softly, smiling against each others’ lips before pulling back completely.

“so, i’ll come pick you up whenever you’re ready, pretty girl,” jimin beamed before heading out the door.

you happily nodded at her, not trusting your words in the moment. holding your chest as your heart wanted to simply embrace jimin and never let her go, you were sure your face was redder than it’s ever been.

“y/n? why are you so red?”

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[dixons-sunshine]

Pregnant Pause | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your life was the epitome of a mess. You had just witnessed two of your friends get brutally murdered, your community was forced to serve an antagonistic group called the Saviours and your partner was taken by the same group, undoubtedly being tortured to try and force him into submission. It wasn't the best moment of your life, and it definitely wasn't the best time to start suspecting that you were pregnant.

Genre: Angst to a little bit of fluff.

Era: Alexandria, Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, mentions of death, typical TWD warnings

Word count: 6.9k

A/n: I had so much fun writing this! To the person who requested this (they asked to remain anonymous), thank you so much. I really hope you like this and I really enjoyed swapping ideas with you for this fic.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

Tears were streaming down your face with no sign of stopping anytime in the near future. In front of you, you could see the disfigured bodies of two members of your group, two of your friends. Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford, brutally beat to death with a wired baseball bat. It was a fate that nobody deserved, especially not somebody as kind and pure as Glenn, or somebody as caring and courageous as Abraham. But they were gone, and with them, the remaining group's goodwill and hope.

Their deaths weren't the only things that weighed on your shoulders. Negan, the leader of the so-called 'Saviours', had taken Daryl, your partner and love of your life, hostage. You had pleaded to them to let him go, but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and with one last tearful look at your archer, the doors to the truck had closed and taken off, taking a huge chunk of your heart with the retreating vehicle.

You could vaguely hear the sound of voices conversing and the shuffle of footsteps around you, but your attention remained fixated on the dirt beneath you. Your mind was racing at the speed of light at that moment, and yet simultaneously, you struggled to think of anything at all. It seemed that with your partner's involuntary departure, your ability to function evaporated into thin air. You had no idea what to do.

You barely registered when Rick shook your shoulder, desperately trying to snap you out of your daze. “Y/N, look at me.”

You hesitantly looked up to meet the striking blue eyes of Rick Grimes, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he had shed earlier. He was tired, that much you could tell, and he seemed to be consumed by grief, the prior events to that moment taking an obvious toll on everyone, including your fearless leader.

“We have to go. It's not safe here,” he whispered, gently urging you to stand. He was patient and caring, knowing full well that the events that had just transpired bore down into your soul. This would traumatize each and every one of the people present, of that much he was sure.

You remained silent, refusing to say anything until you'd had time to fully process everything. The remaining people in your group wordlessly split, Maggie and Sasha heading to the Hilltop and the rest of you heading towards the Alexandria safe zone. Aaron dutifully walked beside you, glancing over at you in concern every few seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he could utter anything.

“Please, don't,” you whispered weakly, furiously wiping at the tears in your eyes.

Aaron frowned. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, careful not to alert the others who were walking in front of you.

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh. “No,” you admitted, pursing your lips. “I'm pretty sure none of us are.”

Aaron's frown deepened, but he ultimately left it at that. The rest of the trek back to Alexandria was spent in a deathly silence, the only audible sounds being footsteps and animals scurrying around in the forest. When you all finally reached the safe zone, dread filled in your heart, because with the Saviours now fit to come knocking at the gates whenever they pleased, the safe zone would never truly be safe ever again.

—

Four days had passed. Four days since Glenn and Abraham had been brutally murdered in front of you. Four days since your partner had been taken hostage by the hostile group who claimed to be saviours. Four days since your world turned upside down.

The fellow survivors in the community had not taken well to the news of the Saviours' deal with Alexandria, but you had expected that much. They weren't there, they didn't know what could happen if you rubbed the Saviours the wrong way, but you did, and they would figure it out soon enough.

You sighed as you layed on the bed in the basement you shared with Daryl, staring up at the ceiling with a frown on your features. For four days you had tried to think of a solution to the problem at hand, but you had shot point-blank each time. And anytime you had even attempted to talk to Rick about retaliating, about fighting back, he had shut you down in an instant. You couldn't blame him, however. You had witnessed the brutality that Negan possessed and didn't wish to anger him again. You just wanted to find a way to get Daryl out of his clutches and back home, safe. You needed him there with you, especially if your suspicions about something proved to be correct.

For the last two weeks, you'd been way more tired than usual. Your body had grown accustomed to short hours of sleep or no sleep at all, but now it seemed as if you couldn't function even if you'd slept ten hours. You'd been getting nauseous quite frequently and although you had no way of keeping track between your periods, you were pretty sure it was late.

You weren't stupid. You knew what those implications meant and what they were leaning towards, but the possibility of it being true scared you. You and Daryl were as careful as you could be, but there were times when you weren't careful, when you were reckless, so the possibility of motherhood could be an impending thing.

You and Daryl hadn't ever really discussed having kids before. The topic came up once or twice, but that was during the earlier stages of your relationship back at the prison when neither of you were ready for that kind of commitment just yet. And with the whirlwind of chaos that ensued, from the Governor's wrath in Woodbury, to the Governor's annihilation of the prison, to Terminus and then to the fall of Alexandria when the walkers infiltrated, the topic never got the chance to come up again.

And now the possibility of you being pregnant was high, and there was a chance that you'd have to raise the baby without its father.

You quickly shook your head to rid the thoughts from your mind. Groaning in frustration, you got up from the bed and headed up the stairs towards the kitchen. There you found Rosita who was seated at the dining table, her features contorted into a frown while she was fiddling with a gun in her lap. She glanced up at you when she heard your footsteps and offered a silent nod of acknowledgement.

You gave her a nod back and headed towards the kitchen. You retrieved a glass from one of the cabinets and headed over to the sink, filling the glass with water. You leaned back against the kitchen island and slowly sipped at the water, your eyes trailed on one of little Judith's drawings that were stuck to the fridge. It was a picture of stick figures meant to represent everyone in the group, and your heart sank when your eyes trailed over the figure meant to represent the archer.

“What're you looking at?” Rosita asked, grabbing your attention.

“Just this picture that Judith drew of all of us,” you responded, half-heartedly motioning at the drawing stuck to the fridge.

Rosita walked over to you and positioned herself on your right, leaning back against the kitchen island as well. She smiled weakly at the drawing.

“Back when we were happy.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, averting your eyes from the drawing to the woman next to you. “Now everything's just gone to shit.”

“All thanks to that Negan puto,” she spat, her tone holding resentment and anger. Her anger was justified—she had witnessed Abraham getting beaten to death, and afterwards Negan had taunted her about it. He found what he did justified. You knew that Rosita wanted him dead, and you did too.

“Yeah,” you replied with a heavy sigh, placing the empty glass down on the countertop. The two of you stood side by side in silence for a few moments, before Rosita broke the silence again.

“What's up? It seems like something has you down.”

“Yeah, Daryl is being held hostage only god knows where and we have three days to find shit for those assholes or one of us dies,” you stated matter-of-factly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rosita sighed. “I know, but that wasn't what I meant. It's something else, I can tell.”

You fixated your gaze on the ground, suddenly finding the tiles more interesting than anything else. “No, I mean... I don't know. It might be nothing, but...” You trailed off awkwardly.

Sensing your awkwardness, Rosita quickly tried to reassure you. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it."

You shot her a grateful look and she gave you a small smile. You brought your hand up and lightly patted her on her shoulder before pushing away from the counter.

“Where are you going?” Rosita inquired, raising her eyebrows in question as she watched your retreating figure.

“I need some air.”

Without waiting for a reply from the woman, you closed the door behind you and leaned back against it momentarily, before pushing away and setting off towards the infirmary.

After a short walk, you arrived at the infirmary. After opening the door and seeing that nobody was inside, you breathed a sigh of relief. You wanted to get this done without anybody knowing. You didn't want people kicking up a fuss when there were bigger problems at hand.

Moving towards the cabinet you knew held the object you were looking for, you could feel your heart racing. When you retrieved the small box with the test that could literally change your life, you felt overwhelmed. You never thought that a small box would intimidate you, but that particular box did.

Wanting to be extra sure of the results, you grabbed another test from the cabinet. Slipping both tests out of the boxes and into your waistband and letting your shirt fall over them to cover them from prying eyes, you quietly slipped from the infirmary before anyone could notice that you were there. You walked with a haste in your step back towards the house, but the sight that awaited you at the gates quickly drew your attention. You quickly made your way over, where you saw none other than Negan beyond the gates, taking out an approaching walker.

You walked up next to Rosita, who looked over at you, anger dancing in her eyes. You were sure that your eyes mirrored the same emotion.

“Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy!” Negan laughed. His eyes strayed to his right, and you could see Rick following his gaze. From your point of view, you could see surprise spread across his face.

“Alright, everybody. Let's get started. Big day,” Negan started, talking to people who were out of your line of sight. “Hey, Rick. You see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. Who is that guy, anyway? Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope! I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service.”

Your gaze strayed downwards when Negan locked eyes with you. He chuckled before walking through the gates, handing Rick his baseball bat. “Hold this.”

As Negan walked in, the rest of the people he brought with him followed after him. However, you looked up when Rosita let out an almost inaudible gasp. You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with Daryl, and your heart both soared with relief and filled with dread. You were relieved that Negan hadn't killed him, but you could see that he wasn't being treated fairly, either. He was dirty and his face was cut and bruised, and he wasn't wearing any shoes with his "uniform".

You frowned, your eyes not straying from Daryl. Your partner kept his eyes locked on you until Negan spoke up again.

“Hot digidy dog!” Negan exclaimed, his eyes sweeping over the community. “This place is magnificent. An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up.”

You looked away from Negan and took a step towards Daryl, hoping to give him a short hug. “Daryl—”

“No. Nope. He's the help. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make Rick chop anything off of him,” Negan cut you off, his eyes shifting to Rick.

When Rick averted his gaze, Negan turned to you, his eyes holding a certain malevolence as he gazed down at you. “Do I make myself clear, darling?”

“Yeah, you've made yourself transparent. I can see right through you,” you spat bitterly, refusing to meet his mocking gaze.

Negan chuckled wickedly. “Careful. We don't want anything to happen to your little lover over there.”

You slowly looked up at the man, your jaw clenched as you glared at him. A few beats of silence passed until you broke the stare first, angrily walking away from him, back towards the house. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you willed them away, refusing to let them fall. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your tears, no matter if he saw it or not.

When you reached the house, you practically flung the door open, storming into the house. Carl, who had been sitting at the dining room table, looked up at your sudden appearance and gave you a concerned look.

You mustered up what you hoped was a reassuring smile and sat down on the chair opposite him. He gave you a questioning look, silently asking what was wrong.

“Negan's here,” you plainly stated, not missing the clenching of his jaw in anger.

“He said a week. He's early,” Carl stated angrily, curling his hands into fists.

“Yeah, but he's here anyway. And he brought Daryl.”

Carl perked up at the mention of the archer's name. “He's here?” When you nodded, he continued. “Is he gonna stay?”

“I doubt it. Negan said that Daryl's here as the help, so I'm pretty sure that Negan's taking him back as soon as he's done here.”

Carl's mood visibly deflated. He sighed and shook his head. “We can't live like this. We should just kill Negan.”

You shook your head. “Believe me, I want Negan dead, too, but even if we kill him, one of his other goons will step up and take his place. We have to kill all of them, not just Negan.”

“How? There's too many of them.”

“I don't know.”

Carl shook his head before standing up, pushing the chair back. “I'm gonna go check on Judith, make sure she's alright.”

At the mention of the small child's name, you suddenly remembered about the two tests that were stuck in your waistband. You got up, too, and nodded at the teenager. “Okay. I have to take care of something real quick.”

With a parting nod, you headed up the stairs and into the bathroom. Quietly locking the door behind you, you inhaled deeply, trying to ease the anxiety that had started to build. You took the two tests from your waistband and held it in front of you, knowing that the results that would show in a few minutes were going to change your life.

Shaking your head and inhaling deeply, you went over to the toilet, two tests in hand. You quickly did your business and placed the two tests on the countertop. You paced around in the bathroom, trying to work up the nerve to see what results awaited you. However, just as you were about to look at the results, a loud banging on the door startled you.

“Hey, hurry up in there! We don't have all day to wait on you!” A voice you didn't recognise bellowed from beyond the door, and you could only assume that it was one of Negan's men. Sighing, you grabbed the tests without so much as peeking at them and slipped them back into the waistband of your jeans. You walked over to the door and opened it, coming face to face with a Saviour.

“What were you doing in there that took you so long, huh, pretty lady?” The man asked, eyeing you up and down with a primal intrigue. You shivered in disgust, shooting him a glare.

Without a word at the man, you walked off, needing to clear your head. The pregnancy tests in your waistband pressed against your skin and reminded you that you had to look at them, but you decided that would have to wait. You weren't about to look at them around prying eyes.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the house. Startled, you sprinted towards where you heard the sound and saw Carl holding two Saviours at gunpoint, the Saviours in question holding crates with all of your medication.

“Put some back,” Carl started, pointing the gun at one of the men. “Or the next one goes in you.”

“Carl, what's going on?” You questioned, moving to stand next to the teenager.

“They said that they were only taking half, but now they're taking everything,” Carl explained, keeping his gun trained on the man in front of him.

The man simply laughed, wickedly smiling at the boy. “Kid, what do you think happens next?”

“You die,” Carl stated plainly, glaring at the man.

You looked over at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Rick, his eyes meeting yours questioningly. You simply shrugged nonchalantly and put a gentle hand on Carl's shoulder. He looked over at you and you gave him a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Don't do anything stupid,” you advised, before leaving Rick to calm his son down. You passed by Negan, who shot you a teasing smile, but you ignored him, moving out onto the porch.

You leaned over the railing, observing the people quietly. You could vaguely hear the voices from inside, but you paid it no mind. After a couple of minutes of just standing there, you saw Aaron walking alone, a frown on his face. You walked down the porch stairs and hurried to catch up to him.

“Aaron, hey!” you called, stopping the man in his tracks. He turned around and saw you approaching, and he offered you a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“Let me guess, the Saviours are ransacking your house right now,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“They took our mattresses. Why the hell would they need that? And our coffee tables? What could they possibly need those for?” Aaron asked, exasperated. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, his form slumped.

“I think they're just taking them because they can,” you started. “They're trying to prove that what they say is law. They're trying to prove that we have no say, that they can take whatever they want simply because.”

Aaron sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” you agreed, nodding sagely. “But what can we possibly do about it now? We're outnumbered and outgunned. We can't take them on even if we wanted to.”

Aaron shook his head. Silently motioning for you to walk with him, the two of you set off, walking to nowhere in particular. “I'm glad to see that Daryl's okay.”

You slightly flinched at the mention of the archer's name and visions of his current state flooded your mind. He looked awful, not just from the filth on him but from the bruises as well. He was being tortured and you wanted to do nothing more than to kill Negan for making him suffer.

“Define "okay",” you sighed, walking up to Aaron's house with him.

“Alive,” he stated simply. The two of you sat down on the porch steps, keeping your gazes ahead on the Saviours who bustled around the community, taking whatever they pleased.

“Yeah, well, let's hope it stays that way,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You wiped them away in frustration.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a small smile. The two of you quietly sat side by side for a while, simply looking at the chaos of the afternoon. You'd catch glimpses of Daryl from time to time, and he'd shoot you nervous glances before returning to whatever task he was meant to do. Your heart shattered at the thought of what Negan was doing to the love of your life. You silently vowed to yourself that you would find a way to get Daryl away from them, one way or another.

“Aaron, Y/N, meeting in Gabriel's church in five,” Rick's voice called, snapping you from your thoughts. He appeared at the bottom of the steps, his tone holding a frantic urgency.

“Rick? What's wrong?” You asked, getting up from the steps, Aaron following your lead.

“The Saviours, they're taking all of our guns, but we're two handguns short. They're threatening to kill Olivia if we don't find them.”

“Who would have them?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out. Like I said, meeting in the church.”

“Nuh uh. Not so fast.”

You clenched your jaw at the voice that resounded behind you. Turning around, you came face to face with Dwight, his mouth upturned in a mocking grin. He was nonchalantly leaning against the wall of the house.

“The missus over here is gonna take me back to whatever hole she and Daryl calls home and give me his shit,” he stated, pushing away from the wall and walking over to you.

You stepped back, glaring angrily at the man. “You already have his crossbow and his vest. What else could you possibly want?”

“His bike, but Rosita's already taking care of that,” Dwight said, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned back towards Rick and waved him off. “Go on, go find out where those guns are.”

Dwight moved forward and gripped your wrist tightly, wordlessly tugging you behind him. You exchanged a nervous glance with Aaron before turning your attention back to Dwight. You ripped your wrist from his grip and glared at him.

“Touch me again and I'll fucking chop your fingers off one by one.”

Dwight chuckled and walked ahead, expecting you to follow him. When he realised that you remained still, he turned to you with a warning glare. “Just so you know, I'm basically Daryl's primary caretaker at the moment. So your behaviour today can either persuade me to make his stay with us better or so much worse. Your choice.”

You hesitated for a moment, before sighing and walking ahead. Dwight's footsteps could be heard from behind you as you silently lead him back to the house, your jaw clenched in anger as you stared ahead.

After a short walk, you lead Dwight up the porch stairs and into the house. You opened the door and stepped inside, the man following closely behind you.

“This is your home?” Dwight questioned, slowly closing the door behind him as he looked about the house in slight awe.

“Mine, Daryl's, Rick's, Michonne's. We all live here,” you stated in a bored tone, walking forward until you reached the door that lead down to the basement. “Our room's down there.”

“You live in the basement?” Dwight asked dubiously, staring down the stairs in question.

“Daryl and I do. We wanted our own space away from everyone where we wouldn't be bothered, hence why we chose the basement.

“Well, then,” Dwight started, lowering his upper body down in a mocking bow. “Lead the way, m'lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him and descended down the stairs. You opened the second door at the bottom of the stairs and pushed inside, the warm air of your shared space with the archer suddenly feeling overwhelming. You disregarded the feeling, focusing instead on the man that followed you down.

You motioned over to the dresser that held most of Daryl's things. “There. You'll find it all there.”

Dwight raised his eyebrows. “All of it? In that one measly dresser?” When you nodded, he continued. “That can't possibly be it.”

“Daryl doesn't own a lot of things that hold sentimental value to him,” you shrugged, sitting down on the bed as you watched the Saviour rummage through the dresser, carelessly tossing pieces of clothing over his shoulder. “Jesus, can you stop? He doesn't have anything else you could want.”

Huffing in frustration, Dwight turned around to face you. However, just as he was about to let out a string of crude remarks, he stopped, spotting something poke out of your waistband. “Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up, before I make you,” he threatened.

You hesitantly stood up. However, you nearly stumbled back when he lunged at you. “What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, trying to push him away.

Dwight ignored you. Before you could stop him, he pulled the two pregnancy tests from your waistband, taking a few steps away from you. He eyed the tests, and a look of surprise spread over his face.

“You're pregnant?”

Time stopped. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and your eyes widened. You were pregnant. Both tests came back positive. Words eluded you as you simply stared at Dwight.

Dwight shook his head and threw one of the pregnancy tests back in your direction, and you hastily caught it. He pocketed the other one. “Congratulations. I'll be sure to tell Daryl the good news.”

Before you could deny or force him to hand it over, Dwight hurriedly left the room. You sank to your knees on the ground, tears starting to well up in your eyes. You felt helpless, completely and utterly helpless. Sobs wracked through your body as you clutched the pregnancy test in your hand, wishing more than ever that Daryl was there to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay.

But with him being in Negan's clutches, that wouldn't be a reality.

—

“Hell of a place you got here, Rick,” Negan told Rick, turning around to face him as you all walked towards the gates.

Roughly two hours later, the Saviours were done ransacking your homes and taking whatever they pleased. You had gotten your feelings under control and walked with your leader towards the gates, hoping above all else that you could persuade Negan into letting you at least give the archer a hug.

“Give me a second,” Rick replied, his eyes shifting between the hostile leader of the Saviours and the building beyond the gates.

Negan followed his gaze, before turning back to him. “No.”

“Please, can you just... Give me a second,” Rick pleaded, looking up at Negan.

Negan finally agreed, giving him a nod, a malicious smirk on his face. When Rick jogged over to the building, that left you in Negan's sights, and the man let out a chuckle.

“Well, darling. I see you've actually listened to me. No interactions with your loverboy whatsoever. I'm impressed,” he began, taking a step towards you.

Standing your ground, you simply glared up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sarcastic retort. That simply elicited another chuckle from the man.

“You know, there is a way the two of you could be together again. You could always come work for me. Be one of my soldiers, so to speak,” he began, eyeing you up and down. “Usually I wouldn't offer that straight away, but for a looker like yourself, I'd make an exception. Or you could make Daryl's life a whole lot easier if you want. You could become one of my wives.”

Unable to resist the urge, you drew your hand back and slapped Negan across his face. Taken aback, he stumbled, but that grin of his soon returned. His eyes raked over your form hungrily. “Just so you know, I'm so much more attracted to you now.”

You could hear a scuffle behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted an angry looking Daryl being held in place by Dwight. The archer glared daggers in Negan's direction, the urge to hit him evident on his face.

However, before anything could happen, Michonne came marching through the gates with a small deer over her shoulders, Rick hot on her tail. She wore a blank expression, refusing to meet Negan's stare.

“Look at this!” Negan exclaimed, eyeing the deer on her shoulders.

��I thought she was scavenging. She was hunting,” Rick explained to Negan, handing him a gun. “This one never came inside.”

Negan took the gun and smirked. “Look at this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. This is reading the room and getting the message. I said it before, Imma say it again. You, sir, are special.”

Rick looked at you, sympathy clear in his eyes. “Now that you know we can follow your rules...”

“Yes?” Negan drawled.

“I'd like to ask you if Daryl could stay.”

“Not happening,” Negan refused. He turned around to look at you, a smirk on his face. “You know what, just to make the missus happy, maybe he can stay. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me.”

Negan turned to Daryl. The archer remained quiet, his eyes shifting between you and Negan. It was evident that he wouldn't beg to stay; Daryl's pride would never allow him to do that. Although a part of you wanted Daryl to just drop his pride this once, you were proud of him. Despite what he was going through, he remained steadfast in his beliefs. He would never bow to the likes of Negan, no matter what pain it could inflict on him.

“Daryl?” Negan pressed, amused by the archer's silence. When Daryl remained silent, Negan turned back to you. “Well, Rick tried. Sorry, darling.”

You looked down, missing the apologetic look Daryl sent your way. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl had wanted to do nothing more than beg Negan to leave him here with you, but he couldn't. Not when Negan had threatened to hurt you if he tried to return to Alexandria. Not when his hostage situation could ensure your safety.

“Now what you gotta do, is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there,” Negan began, looking at Rick. “Earn for me, because we're coming back soon. And when we do, you better have something interesting for us, or Lucille? She's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us, somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab that deer. It's getting late. Let's go home.”

Michonne angrily dropped the deer and turned around. You shot one final lingering glance at the archer, your partner and love of your life, before following suite. Michonne put her arm around your shoulder and together the two of you walked back to your shared home, ignoring Negan's mocking laughter.

“Something's wrong, I can tell,” she whispered quietly.

You shook your head. “I wouldn't necessarily say something is wrong,” you denied. “I just really need Daryl more than ever right now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “But not without Rick. I need his opinion too.”

—

“You're pregnant?”

You physically winced at the incredulous sound of your leader's voice. For the second time that day, someone had asked you that pivotal question, but this one finally made it register in your mind. You were pregnant. And Daryl wasn't there to help you through it.

Michonne wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to lean into her side for support. She rubbed your arm, hoping to bring you some form of comfort under Rick's disbelieving stare.

“Rick,” she scolded, sending her partner a pointed look, as if telling him to read the room.

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting his attention back to you. “When did you find out?”

“Today,” you whispered, your voice hoarse all of a sudden. “Right after Dwight took me down to the basement to rummage through Daryl's things. He saw the tests and took one. I think he's gonna use it to torture Daryl mentally. How could I let that happen?”

Michonne pulled you tighter against her side, allowing you to cry into her shoulder as she whispered reassuring words into your ear. “It's not your fault. Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out, I promise.”

You hesitantly nodded against her shoulder, withdrawing from her hold and standing up. You began to pace the room, anxiously fiddling with your fingers.

“What should I do?”

“Go to the Hilltop,” Rick advised, effectively stopping your pacing. “They have a doctor there who can ensure that you and the baby are okay. And you'll have Maggie and Sasha by your side. It'll be safer for you there.”

“I can't just leave,” you shut him down, shaking your head. “Negan is fit to come knocking at the gates whenever he pleases. We need more supplies, and soon. We need more people going out there.”

“Like hell I'm letting you out there,” Rick argued. “Daryl would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you or the baby, whether he knows about it now or not. The best thing you can do now for yourself and your baby is to go to the Hilltop. It's safer and it's out of harm's way. Please, if not for yourself, for Daryl. For your baby.”

Sensing your hesitation, Michonne stood up, facing you head-on. “Rick's right,” she began, capturing your undivided attention. “Go. We'll be okay here. Your primary focus should be your wellbeing right now. Once things cool down around here, I'll come get you myself. I promise.”

You remained quiet for a few moments, pondering over their words before nodding. “Okay,” you whispered. “I'll go.”

“We'll have a car ready for you in the morning,” Rick responded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You're doing the right thing. Daryl would've wanted this.”

“I know,” you sighed. “It doesn't make it any easier, though.”

The next morning came way too soon for your liking. Packed up and ready to go, you exchanged goodbyes with everyone. You were busy hugging Carl, the teenager clutching to your shirt tightly.

“Don't die,” he told you when he pulled back from the hug.

“Don't do anything stupid,” you retorted, playfully pushing his hat down over his face, successfully coaxing a laugh from him.

After a few more exchanges, and another hug from Carl, you got into the car and drove off, heading towards the Hilltop Colony. The drive was spent in an anxious silence. You were wondering if you'd made the right choice, if leaving Alexandria for a while was really the best decision, but as your hand drifted to your flat abdomen that would soon grow, to the life that fluttered there, you knew that Rick and Michonne were right. Your primary focus should be your baby right now, and you'd be damned if you let anything happen to them.

After a while, the gates to the Hilltop came into view. You got out of the car as the gates opened, soon being engulfed in hugs by Sasha and Maggie. Jesus stood off to the side with a smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, pulling back from the hug.

“It's a lot to explain,” you said, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

“Come inside. We'll get you something to eat,” Jesus offered.

You smiled at him and nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”

—

“That Gregory guy is such an asshole,” you spat angrily, sitting on the bench outside of Jesus' trailer.

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Welcome to my world. We've been dealing with this prick for two weeks now and he still hasn't gotten better.”

You shook your head, your hand absentmindedly rubbing over your stomach. One week with the Hilltop's leader breathing down your neck and you were just about ready to shoot him. He kept on sending crude remarks in your direction, voicing his obvious disdain that he had yet another Alexandrian he had to keep hidden from the Saviours. Thankfully Jesus was there to put him in his place whenever you were the object of his distasteful glares, and since the day before, Enid as well.

Suddenly, shouts could be heard from the gates, before they were opened. You perked up at the rumble of a motorcycle, standing up to move closer and get a better view, instantly spotting the familiar glint of a familiar motorcycle coming to a halt, and an even more familiar man getting off of it. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and before anyone could stop you, you started running.

“Daryl!” you called, running as fast as your legs could carry you.

Daryl turned around at the sound of your voice. As soon as he saw you, he started running as well, meeting you halfway. You practically flung yourself into Daryl's arms, and he instantly reciprocated the hug, burying his face into your shoulder. You hugged him to you tightly, holding the back of his head as you tried to withhold the tears flooding in your eyes.

“C'mon,” Jesus urged gently, prompting you and Daryl to pull apart. “There's a room in the Barrington house. You can use it to get cleaned up and changed into something else.”

Daryl hesitated, but you nodded. “It's okay. I'll be there with you.”

You took Daryl's hand in your own and followed behind Jesus. The two of you were soon in the aforementioned room, Daryl sitting down on the bed while you cleaned up one of the cuts on his face. He remained silent, his eyes locked on your face. He lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, halting your movements.

“What's wrong?” you asked, placing a hand over his one that rested on your cheek.

“M'jus' remindin' myself tha' this is real. Tha' this ain't some trick my mind is playin' on me. Tha' this ain't another dream.”

You gently took his hand and lead it to your heart, placing his hand over it to feel the steady beating of it. “I'm here,” you whispered. “You're here. This isn't a dream. It's real.”

Daryl swallowed and nodded, before letting his hand trail down to your stomach. “Is... Is this real? Are ya pregnant?”

Your heart dropped. The only way he could know was if Dwight did what you suspected—he mentally tortured the love of your life with the knowledge that you could've been pregnant.

Your silence confirmed it for the archer. He sighed and swallowed heavily. “Ya are. Yer pregnant.”

You nodded slowly, guilt creeping up in you. “I am. Did Dwight tell you?”

“He showed me the test. Said it was yers, tha' he found it with ya tha' day we were at Alexandria. I didn't wanna believe him at first, but the more I thought 'bout it, the more I started believin' him,” Daryl replied. “When did ya find out?”

“The first time Negan showed up with all of you,” you admitted. “Dwight took one of the tests from me before I could stop him. I'm sorry, I should've tried harder. You were already going through so much shit with the Saviours, and then he had to go put more shit on you because of me.”

Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Dun' blame yerself. Wha' do ya have to be sorry fer? Findin' out yer pregnant?”

“For allowing him to take the test and use it against you.”

“Dun' be sorry. S'okay,” he whispered into your hair, stroking your back softly. Once you had calmed down, Daryl allowed one of his hands to travel back down to your stomach.

“Yer really pregnant?” he asked with a slight laugh, rubbing your stomach affectionately.

You laughed in wonder and nodded. “Yeah. There's a tiny you in there.”

“Nah, they're gon' be a tiny ya. Sweet, kind and a badass, jus' like their mama,” Daryl countered, placing a kiss against your forehead. “Our baby. Our lil' peanut.”

“You really wanna do this? Are you ready to start your own family?” you questioned, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“With ya?” Daryl began, pulling you closer to him. “M'ready fer anythin'.”

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

I Want Forever

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Gif credit goes to @londonharry (So sorry! I don’t normally use gifs so I forgot to give credit!)

Summary- Harry and Y/N broke up early into Love On Tour. Harry struggled to truly move on, as did Y/N. With tour over, a lost soul shows up at Y/N’s door one night, ready for forever.

Warnings- angst, smooshiness, you may cry

>>>————————->

September 2021

“Y/N, love, please! I haven’t seen you in weeks! Can’t you take just a bit of time off to come to my next show?”

I sigh into the phone and shake my head, knowing full well he can’t see me.

“Harry, you know I can’t! I’m swamped with school! I skipped 4 assignments and took zeroes for them when I was with you last! This is my future-.”

“And what about our future?! I told you! I want a life with you! You don’t need to be working this hard! You don’t even need to work!”

I scoff and bite my lip.

“Harry, you know I won’t! My career is important! This is what I’m working so hard for! I want to work and I want to be somebody! Not just a pop star’s girlfriend! You’re always gone. If you can’t drop your career for me then you shouldn’t ask me to drop mine for you. I thought you understood that..?”

My heart breaks more and more as he sighs into the phone.

“So that’s it then? You’re just… You’re giving up on us?”

“Harry-.”

“No, no, don’t bother. We should just end it before it gets worse for either of us. I hope things work out for you, Y/N.”

He hangs up and with that, I breakdown. I cry and I cry, praying that this was just a nightmare. But I knew he was right. And without Harry… I could focus…

July 2023

It had been a long week. In fact, it had been a long few years. After the break up, I distanced myself a lot. I got off of social media and threw myself into finishing school and eventually, entered, I got my dream job.

As much as I love helping kids, the ones that are like me and the ones that struggle worse, it breaks my heart. After the break up, I got myself back into therapy to cope.

While I am no longer spiraling, the pain is still there. I never tried to get my things. I never made contact again. I just ran. I ran from everything.

After another long, emotional day of work, I stumble into my apartment and crash on my couch. After giving myself a few moments to scream my frustrations into the couch cushion, I get up and make myself a light dinner before getting some extra work done.

I park myself down at the coffee table with a glass of white wine and a frozen dinner, turning my attention to my laptop when there’s a knock at the door. I glare curiously at the door and hesitantly get up, making my way to the door.

I hesitantly open it and my mouth drops when I see who’s on the other side of the door.

“Harry…”

He looks in my eyes, his face sullen.

“Y/N…”

Before I can really think, I try to close the door but I hear a small ‘ow’ from the other side of the door. I look down and see Harry’s foot in the door. I sigh and let it go, opening it again. He looks at me and pulls his foot back.

“Can we… Can we talk?”

I fold my arms and frown.

“We don’t have anything to talk about. Now if you’ll excuse me-.”

“Y/N, please! Just- Just hear me out!”

He steps forward and I take a step back as he backs me into my apartment and closes the door.

“There’s nothing left to say, Harry. I’ve made my peace. Obviously you have too. So you should just go-.”

He places his hands on my arms and looks into my eyes.

“Y/N, you’re all I’ve thought about since we broke up… I have missed you so.. So much, love. And I know I was horrible to you and I will never forgive myself for that. But I can’t- I need you, Y/N. I can’t take one more day without you…”

Tears well up in my eyes and I shake my head.

“You can’t just come back into my life and say that! You were the one that ended things Harry, you! I supported you through everything! And you couldn’t support me?! My career is important to me! School was important! You were important!”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down before I continue.

“I shouldn’t have to choose between them! And you made the choice for me! And you, you moved on! Multiple times! I-.”

Harry shakes his head, tears spilling down his soft cheeks.

“That’s not true! I- I couldn’t… It was hard, Y/N! I-I made a mistake… I tried to move on but I just couldn’t.. I missed you Y/N. I miss you. And.. I just want you back. I-I know I don’t deserve you, even after all I’ve done… But I just can’t let you go. I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

Before I can say anything, Harry moves to his knees and he takes me hands, forcing me to look down at him.

“Harry-.”

He pulls out a ring box, his hands shaking as tears continue to spill down his cheeks.

“Just.. Hear me out. The last two years, I have done nothing but berate myself for chasing you away. No matter how I tried to move on, you were always on my mind. 3 years. You were with me from the start. And I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been-.”

I attempt to pull him up and he shakes his head.

“Just wait. Please just let me finish… I made a mistake Y/N… But I don’t want to make another… Please… Y/N L/N… Will you marry me? Will you let be make it up to you? I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like you have to choose. I’ll support you and I’ll-.”

I begin to cry and I drop to my knees as I sob. Harry drops the ring box and takes my cheeks in his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumb as he makes me look at him. His expression softens though his eyes remain teary, and he gives me a small smile.

“I am so, so sorry my love. I will spend every day making sure you know just how much I love you. And I know have a lot to make up for but please.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a minute. I take a deep breath before opening them again.

“Yes… I’ll marry you, Harry.”

His eyes light up and he opens his mouth to speak but I place my finger on his lips, stopping him.

“But I have a few conditions. These past couple years haven’t been easy. For the first few months… I couldn’t stand even hearing your name-… I want to go to therapy. You and me. Couples counseling. And- I want to take some time to heal… You coming back is putting salt in old wounds.”

He lets go of my cheeks and looks down, his sides dropping. I sigh and despite my better judgment, I wrap my arms around his neck and I kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before he sinks into the kiss, deepening it. After a minute or so, I pull away and Harry looks into my eyes.

“I want you to listen to me, okay?”

He’s quiet for a second before he nods, gesturing me to continue.

“You made a mistake. And you’re owning up to it. I want to be with you Harry, I do. But I think we need to spend some time working through things together before we tie the not.”

He’s quiet for a moment before I hear him grab something off the floor.

“So… Does that mean you don’t want to wear the ring yet?”

I let out a small snort and shake my head. I pull away from him and hold my right hand out to him.

“No, gimmie that! I had been waiting for that! But it does mean that you’ll have to wait a little longer before you can marry me.”

He smiles and slips the ring on my finger and picks me up, twirling me around in his arms as I laugh.

It won’t be easy, but I want forever, and I want it with him.

>>>—————->

I hope you enjoyed lovelies! I would definitely be open to writing more for them!!! Requests are closed for now, until I catch up, but I will let you know when they’re open again!

Tag List

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @strwbrrydaydreams @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg

[theemporium]

GIVE ME ANYTHING REMUS QUEEN! i’ve become such a whore for him recently it’s not even funny

YOU ASK AND I DELIVER🫡

.

“Remus, stop.” 

“Just stay quiet and nobody will find out, sweetheart.” 

“They will—”

“That’s not staying quiet, now is it, doll?” 

The blood roaring in your ears and the heart thundering in your chest did little to drown out the voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to just shut up, to just sit back and let the pretty boy between your legs do whatever he liked. And maybe your conscience would have agreed if it weren’t for the fact you were tucked away in the corner of the library, with your insatiably boyfriend under the desk as he pushed your legs apart.

You knew Remus got a little more needy the closer to the full moon. He was relentless, dragging you into broom closets or skipping classes to fuck you in the bathroom. His hands would always be touching you, he would use any excuse to kiss you and he just wanted to be around you 24/7 which you usually didn’t have a problem with. 

But this was different—you could get caught and you weren’t sure you could deal with the mortification of having Professor McGonagall sit there and wait for you to explain why your boyfriend was eating you out under the table in a public library.

“This is risky,” you whispered, your eyes glancing around nervously as though you expected for somebody to pop out from between the aisles and catch you. 

“You seem to like that,” he mused, the hands on your thighs tugging you closer to the edge of the seat as he began to kiss along your inner thighs, head ducked under your skirt. 

“No, I don’t—oh,” you let out a choked gasp, your head falling back a little as he ran his tongue along your clothed cunt.

“Liar,” he growled against you, too impatient to even tug your panties down your legs as his fingers hooked the wet material, pushing them to the side. 

Your nails dug into the wooden desk, lips pressed together as you desperately fought to keep quiet. The truth was that you were putty in his hands the second he crawled under the desk, muttering that he needed to taste you.

“So fuckin’ good f’me,” he groaned, licking from your entrance to your clit, feeling the way your legs shivered at the touch. 

Your legs moved to close themselves but Remus kept them pinned open, tongue lapping at your soaking cunt as you withered and squirmed in your seat. His nose nudged against your swollen cunt, making a small high-pitched noise leave your lips in surprise. And you felt the smug fucker smile against your cunt. 

“Remus,” you pleased, your voice breathy and whiny and fuck, he loved it. 

“Shhh, gonna take care of m’girl, okay?” he murmured as he tugged you closer, your legs now thrown over his shoulder as his tongue teased your entrance, his guttural moan humming through your body.

The nail marks left on the table were long forgotten when Remus tipped you over the edge, thumb pressing against your clit in slow circles as you came on his tongue. The rest of the library quickly forgotten when he didn’t stop, tongue lapping at your cunt as you came again, and then one more time. 

And you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about how loud you were when his head popped up from under your skirt, eyes dark and grin wolfish as his lips and chin glistened with your release.

“My girl always looks so pretty when she’s fucked out.”

.

[jammofsammichflip]

*°•_:JJK Headcanons:_•°*

;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;

!!!Fluff, ❌🍋(no smut)!!!

Featuring/Pairing: Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kento Nanami, Inumaki Toge

(These are the (some) main people I absolutely know how to write for,

please give me ideas if you don't see someone/thing you'd like to see. <3)

*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::* °×•×°×•×°×•×°First Date°×•×°×•×°×•×°

Itadori Yuji: ° Your first date and 1 month' aversarry (1 month' anniversary) is gonna take place at a cat/pet cafe.

° No exeptions

° Itadori is gonna have a ball with you regardless of where your first date is, but he know how much you like cats/(other animals).

° All of his attention is on you as you take pictures of the animals and eat the cute food.

° He can barely take his eyes off of you <3

° He fell first and fell harder.

° He is the type of guy to bring you a bunch of unnecessary gifts (like Gojo) at random times

° Except his gifts are cuter and personalized (unlike Gojo)

° Love language is definitely Acts of Service and Quality Time

° He just loves seeing you happy and safe and that's all that really matters to him at this point.

° Honest to God, brags about how cute you are to anybody who'd listen: his friends, his teachers, your pets, somebody's child, random pictures YOU NAME IT

° Takes you to the movies afterwards (he looked for good movies with the help of Junpei (😭💕))

° Somehow ate 3 (full size) plates of food at the cafe before you had to ask him, "HOW DID YOU EAT ALL THAT? ARE YOU OJAY??? YUJI ITS BEEN 15 MINUTES SINCE WE SAT DOWNNN!!??!??!!"

° Gives you a soft kiss on the hand and then cheek once you get home

° Your name is filled with hearts and stars on his contacts bc it's cute

Fushiguro Megumi:

° He didn't know how much was too much so he took you for a cute park-picnic date

° He makes sure to bring lots of water and fresh fruit because its midday.

° He also brought (favorite cake flavor) to share <3

° Likes to look at all the dogs he sees and tell you everything he knows about them

° He blushes so hard when you compliment/flirt with him (if you dyed his hair he'd look like a damn tomato)

° (my headcanon) He talks about how he'd like to be a veterinarian when he gets older because he doesn't want animals to live the same life he lived at one point

° His point blank resting glare scares off anyone who tries to talk to the both of you

° Keeps getting the sneaking suspicion that Itadori, Nobara and Gojo are talking about him (he got really irritated at one point, that's how he knows)

° Has the cutest giggles when a bee lands near your nose

° Brings butterfly/dinosaur charms for you because he thinks you look cute when you talk about them.

° Leaves the picnic area better than he found it because he's just responsible like that

° Takes you too a pretty garden area where he gifts you (favorite flower)

° Kisses your hand goodbye (I faint)

° Told his classmates and teacher that the date was nice and nothing else (💀)

° Your contact has a picture he secretly took of you and thought was cute

Kento Nanami

° The epitome of class

° I swear he just keeps raising the damn bar

° Picks you up in the late afternoon/ evening

° Dinner at a nice restaurant (I think it's French/Louisianan cuisine)

° He bought a present for you because he saw it on the way to his car to pick you up

° A nice walk to set up for a good conversation

° He made sure that everything was so perfect, found a great path (walkable in flats/heels) that you can see the stars when you look up

° Calls you - My Lady - (see that capitalization?)

° Wanted to bust out in his singing voice when he heard MCR playing from somewhere (he's a diehard fan at heart and we all know it)

° Very excited to tell you about how much he likes bread (he prefers fresh made over store bought and loves to laugh at the silly designs on his sourdough)

° Almost choked on his spit when he thought he saw Satoru somewhere but it turned out to be flowers or sum.

° It was Satoru, he wanted to be a nosy bat and see what Nanami was doing since the couldn't annoy him today

° Very attentive to little details when you describe things things you (dis)like so he can be ready for future dates

° In his bag he definitely has chapstick, a notepad (he's so orderly), some mints and he made sure to pack a pair of slippers for you just in case your feet hurt at any point

° He's such a gentleman and he's so nice and respectful to the servers during dinner

° Makes sure to walk you to your door once he gets you home safely

° Puts a 💕 next to your name in his contacts.

° (Gojo is called 'The Annoying One 🤞😒' in his contacts, the only other one with emojis)

Inumaki Toge

° This chronically online ass mfker.

° He challenged you to a Fortnite battle

° It's a gaming date.

° So much mogging. You hit him with a 🗿🔥🐺 and he got quiet

° SALMONNN!!! 😭😭🙏

° POLLACK ROE 😤😡😤😤

° Rice 💕🥰😚😍

° MUSTARD LEAF¿¿‽‽!!¿??

° Then Super Smash Bros™

° Soon y'all we're laughing your asses off at the villager prisons on your newly created Minecraft server.

° The unhealthiest amount of junk food known to man kind

° I'm convinced he consumes Redbull and gummy bears like water and air.

° When a creep kept pressing you on the internet he took over as your big strong man (he's shorter than 5'9, I checked 💀😭)

° Legit kept calling himself The Skibidi Alpha Pack Leader™ and how much he want (the creep) to join his gang of Loners™

° Uses (🗿🙏🗣️🗿🌶️💬🥇📢🩼🎯🍃🐺🌘) religiously and unironically

° In all seriousness he does love you though. He's so glad he has someone he can laugh with and talk to (using text to speech- ofc it's set to Gigachad Voice)

° Absolutely the best at lifting you up when your sad because you humor has been marinated in the TikTok algorithm and is peak

° When he calls he uses facetime so you can see his reactions and his eyelashes that are always on fleek

° He passes little notes to you when he can't express his words through ingredients: "Your laugh is pretty <3",,, "That (game)skin is so cute, it goes well with your weapon",,, "Thank you for coming out with me, I like you a lot<333"

° Afterwards he gifts you little trinkets from when we was at the mall one time.

וװDid you like it?°×•× וװGot requests/recommendations?°×•×

*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*

[quiet-onset]

fever pitch

pairing: michael berzatto x reader

wc: 12.1k+, somebody sedate me

summary: an assortment of your time with michael berzatto

warnings: no use of yn, smut, so minors dni!!!, unprotected sex, sex under the influence, by ext. dubcon since reader is unaware at the time, oral (f receiving), drug use and addiction (character and reader), canonical character death/suicide mention, pregnancy mention (sorry not sorry), please do not read if any of this is triggering for you!!

a/n: beta’d by @brattylyricist bc she has no other choice than to put up with my bs!! also bc the content matter here is triggering and i have personal experience seeing the damage that addiction can do to someone you love, I’m including national hotline phone numbers here. please don’t be afraid to seek help if you need it: national suicide prevention hotline: dial/text 988, substance abuse and mental health services administration: 1-800-662-HELP. again, please do not read this if any of the warnings are triggering for you!!!

The day went by in a blur. You got up, showered, did your hair and makeup. You ate the little breakfast you could stomach. You put on an acceptable black dress and matching high heels.

You drove to the church — tried to sit in the back, but Sugar pulled you to the front pew, right next to her. You stood behind the lectern and said kind, loving words. You drove to the cemetery and watched as his casket was lowered into the cold. And you went to the repass, doing your best to stay out of Donna’s way, knowing how she gets when she’s both sad and under pressure. 

But you hadn’t cried.

You sat on the stairs with your wine glass filled with water as everyone mingled, exchanging condolences about your dearly departed. You let your heart ache as you downed the glass, stories of him being told by this person and that.

But you still hadn’t cried.

Donna burst out of the kitchen, her hair a bit disheveled and eyes red from crying. “Have you seen Carmy?”

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It must have been the seventh time she had asked. “No, Donna, I have not seen Carmy.”

“What a fuckin’ help you are.” She snapped, pulling a box of cigarettes from her apron. With her other hand, she snatched your empty wine glass and turned on her heel. “I do all this work, and I can’t even go outside to smoke.”

You followed close behind, huffing as you stood. “I thought Sugar was with you.”

“Sugar is with her.” The middle child interrupted. She gave you a weak, empathetic smile when you entered the kitchen behind Donna. A wine glass of her own in hand as she sat on the kitchen counter, she sipped on red wine. “But Sugar can’t cook.”

“Not like Carmy, you can’t. Get your ass off my fuckin’ counter, shoo!” Donna swatted at her daughter’s thigh until she hopped off the counter, snatching her half full wine glass as well. She downed the wine in a couple seconds, and you and Sugar shot each other a look. It was passing, but you both understood the meaning — Donna needed a break.

“She doesn’t have to cook, Donna. Just watch everything. Keep an eye on it, y’know?” You tried to intervene but she was having none of it.

“I don’t need an eye. I need hands! I need someone who can cook!” Donna threw the glasses into the sink, and you flinched when they shattered against the metal. “Fuck!”

“I’ll do it, Donna.” From the shakiness in her hands, you know she’s so close to losing it. To taking everything in the kitchen and throwing it on the ground, at the wall, at whoever she deemed worthy of having something thrown at them. “I know I’m not Carmy, but I’m better than Sug.”

“Hey!” Sugar sounded defensive, but you and Donna barely paid her any mind.

“You can’t fuckin’ cook, Sugar, get over it.” Her mother snapped. “I’d normally have Mikey do it, but he—”

“Ma.” You gently placed your hands on Donna’s shoulders, and a bit of the tension fell from them. You hadn’t called her that in a long time — it no longer felt right — but doing so made her recall happier times. You looked her in the eye, reassured her. “You go outside and smoke. I’ll take over for a few minutes, okay?”

Her eye twitched ever so slightly, and she was still shaking, but you could tell it grounded her a bit. “If everything else goes to shit, make sure the fish is good, alright?”

“Save the fish. Got it.”

Donna nodded, pulling a cigarette out of the box. Then she finally walked toward the exit of  the kitchen, twirling it in her hand. Just before she left, she glanced at you again, her voice shaky. “You.. you would’ve been good for him. If he’d let you.”

When Donna left, there were tears in your eyes. Sugar watched to see if you’d need comfort, especially after one of those tears fell from your eye. But you were quick to wipe it away, taking a deep, shuddering breath. You turned to Sugar, gesturing toward the sink filled with broken glass. “Could you…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She was quick to do so, grabbing a paper bag to put shards in. You both worked in a comfortable silence. The only sound was the clinking of glass against each other. Sugar battled over whether she wanted to speak, but she figured if she needed kind words, then you definitely did. “Ma’s right, y’know. Michael lo—”

“Sug. Please.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause as you stirred a pot of stew, then you sighed. “I know he did. As much as he could anyway.”

—

Michael met you on a sober streak. He’d been clean for three weeks, the longest stint thus far. When Richie found out about his addiction, he dragged Michael to Narcotics Anonymous. You’re gonna die cooking at the restaurant or doing something cool, not fuckin’ OD, Richie had sneered in the car.

He sat in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest, grumbling like a child. Despite being sober for three weeks, he maintained that he didn’t need to come to these meetings. To Michael, this was just proof that he could quit whenever he wanted to. Regardless, Richie drove him to every meeting and planned to do so until he seemed ready to go on his own.

The host of the meeting, Brayden, greeted Michael with a kind smile, but he responded with a grunt. For three weeks, Michael sat silently in that circle and said absolutely nothing. He wondered what it took to get the man to speak, but of course, he’d never pressure anyone to share before they were ready.

Then you walked in. You seemed a bit more put together than others in the room, but still a bit shy. An oversized sweater wrapped around your frame, and you pulled it even closer, eyes glancing around the room. You nodded a greeting to Brayden before sitting in the circle across from Michael. When you noticed him glancing your way, you offered a friendly smile, and he returned it.

He knew then that he’d return to his weekly NA meetings.

The session started shortly after, but Michael was only half listening. He was mostly glancing back and forth from whoever was speaking to you. He liked the way you gave your full attention to every person who spoke, even when they said things you didn’t agree with — he could tell when you didn’t, a little crease would form for the briefest moment between your brows. But it always disappeared, and your attentive expression returned. 

“Alright, would anyone else like to speak? Someone new maybe?” Brayden asked, quickly glancing at Michael.

He’d never admit it, but his heart was pounding at the idea of airing out his dirty laundry to a group of strangers. He took a deep, nervous breath, but then another voice spoke up.

“I’ll go.” You said, watching the relief wash over Michael’s face. You cleared your throat, pulling your sweater closer as you introduced yourself. “I was in a car accident two years ago. It, uh, it killed my son… That plus divorce plus prescribed oxy apparently equals addiction.”

The slightly playful lilt in your tone made Michael chuckle quietly, though you both knew nothing was funny. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. Still, you continued, “I’ve been sober for two months, but my son’s birthday is coming up in a few months, so I, uh, needed a meeting. But yeah, that’s my story.”

After the meeting, you stood by the snack table, nursing a cup of coffee. Michael approached cautiously as he poured his own coffee. “Can I ask what his name was?”

You looked up from your paper cup into warm brown eyes. “Sorry?”

“Your son?”

“Oh.” You paused, and your heart sank at the reminder that your baby was gone. “His name was Benson.”

He snorted into his coffee cup, trying to hide his quiet laugh by clearing his throat. You noticed the light in his eyes, and it inexplicably made a smile pull at your lips too. “Sorry.” He said. “Benson’s a great name.”

“It’s a dorky name. Dorky first name, anyways. It’s what his father wanted.” You confirmed with a chuckle. “But it was my son’s name. So I liked it.”

“Course.” He smiled at you kindly. He was charming, and you liked it. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand. You went against your better judgment and invited him to your place. You both spent all night wrapped in your sheets, in each other’s embrace. He left for work the next morning but not before getting your phone number. 

You texted Michael and arranged to meet up again that night. Then, you called your sponsor. 

That was the beginning of the end.

—

“Cousin, your girlfriend’s here!”

“Not his girlfriend, Richie.”

“Not yet.”

“Send her back!” Michael’s voice floated in from the back of the kitchen.

You sidestepped Richie and walked through the kitchen, saying your hellos to everyone. “Where’s he at?” You asked.

“The office.” Tina answered, lightly nudging you in his direction. “He’s not having the best day.”

You nodded your understanding and proceeded to the small office where Michael was leaning back in his chair, hand over his face as he spoke into his cell phone. “No, I just don’t understand why we keep talking about the same shit.”

You leaned against the doorframe, giving him a small smile. He gave you the tiniest acknowledgment, a small wave, before spinning around in the chair to face the wall. You scoffed jokingly, closing the door behind you, “Well, fuck me, I guess.”

“Carmy, you’re a big shot in some fancy, five-star, European restaurant, what the fuck do you wanna be here for?” He asked exasperatedly. There’s a short pause, mumbling from the other side of the phone before Mikey throws a hand in the air. “Five star, three star, who gives a shit? Look, Carmen, you’re doing big things, good things. Stay in Europe. I gotta go.”

When Michael hung up, a long, tired sigh racked his body. “This would be a perfect time for—”

“One month.” You interrupted. You knew all too well where his mind was headed. He was spiraling into that dark, secluded state of mind you’d found him in just a few weeks after you met. He’d relapsed after a particularly hard day at the restaurant, something about finances and paying back a loan that he refused to tell you more about. But you’d helped him then. Picked him up, dusted him off, and called his sponsor — Started him back on the path of sobriety again. If you could help it, he’d never reach that lonely place again. 

“One month.” He repeated to himself. Then, he spun around. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You walked over to him, standing between his spread legs. He immediately rested his forehead on your belly, groaning when you carded a hand through his hair. Your other hand rubbed circles into his back, the tense muscles a sharp contrast to his soft black locks. “I take it that was your brother?”

He grunted affirmatively. “Keeps askin’ to work here.”

“At The Beef?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, isn’t he a professional chef? Why don’t you let him?”

“C’mon, sweetheart, you’re supposed to be on my side.” He grumbled, pulling you down to sit on his thigh. 

“I am on your side.” You chuckled. You took your thumb and rubbed gently at the spot between his eyes until the frustrated crease disappeared. “‘M just saying, he’s a trained chef, this is a restaurant. I don’t get what’s not adding up for you, baby.”

Michael sighed, looking up at you. He brushed a stray hair from your face and smiled up at you. You smiled back encouragingly, patiently waiting until he found the right words. “Carm doesn’t know.” He admitted.

“Carm doesn’t know…?”

“About the painkillers. And I don’t know if I’m ready to tell him.” His brow furrowed once more, making you frown. “I mean, he’s got three Michelin stars. The kid’s a fuckin’ genius in the kitchen — he doesn’t need to be around all this shit, all my shit.”

You let his words sink in, deep in thought as you stroked his hair. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you thought about all the stories Mikey and Richie told you about the youngest Berzatto. How he could be quiet and unassuming, but, with a little encouragement, always came out of his shell around family and friends. Maybe, for Carmen, it wasn’t about the restaurant.

“Maybe he just wants to see you.” You said pensively. “I mean it’s been how long since he’s been home?”

A scoff passed Michael’s lips. “A long fuckin’ time.”

“Maybe the restaurant is a pretense. I mean, he would come work at The Beef and stuff, but maybe he just wants to see you again. Hang out with his big brother like he used to.”

His thumb stroked your thigh as he looked at you, silently admired the way you seem to come in and make all his problems melt away with a single thought, a word, a smile. “What about the whole bein’ an addict part?” He asked.

“You don’t have to tell him right away.” You suggested. “Baby steps.”

“You are too fuckin’ good to me, y’know that?” He grinned back at you. When you rolled your eyes playfully, he pinched your side, making you jolt and laugh. 

You pulled his arm around your waist, settling your hands at the nape of his neck. “So, you’re letting your brother work at the restaurant?”

“How ‘bout we just start with a visit, hm? I’ll tell him to come home for a week or somethin’, stay at mine.” He compromised. “Baby steps.”

“Oh, I’m so proud of you.” You cooed playfully, pinching his stubbly cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He swatted your hands away, leaning forward to press wet kisses to the column of your neck. He smirked as you suddenly ceased your pinching, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “You should let me return the favor, sweetheart.”

“Not in your office!” You gasped when he bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder before soothing it with his tongue. 

“Why not?” He chuckled, lifting you onto his desk. He probably should have been a little more worried about his records and papers getting folded under the swell of your ass, but all he could focus on was the small strip of fabric covering the part of you he wanted to devour. “Wouldn’t you prefer I be addicted to my girl than painkillers?”

“That’s not, ah,” You jolted above him, the sensation of his thumb pressing into your sensitive clit knocking you back to your elbows, “That’s not funny, Mikey.”

“What’s Brayden say?” He muttered, pulling your panties to the side. His fingers expertly tugs your lips apart, and he pressed a soft teasing kiss to your hood-covered button. “Humor’s my coping mechanic.”

“M-mechanism.” The correction came out in a soft moan. Just then, his words hit you — his girl. He’d never said that before. All the times you’d kissed, made out, had sex, he’d never called you his girl. You liked the way it sounded, the way it rolled off his tongue effortlessly. “Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He pulled away, his hands finding your calves as he looked at you. His brown irises held the tiniest bit of vulnerability in them, an emotion reserved for you and you only. “I mean, if you wanna be. Do you?”

You smiled and encircled his wrists, tenderly stroking his skin with your thumbs. It was a simple touch, but it made the hairs on his arm stand at attention. Strange how you always managed to do that. “Of course I do.”

“Good.” He exhaled. His large hands slid up your inner thighs, pausing at your core. With a gentle touch, he tugged your folds apart, watching the way your entrance fluttered. His mouth dropped open, and he let his saliva drip down onto your pussy, rubbing it into your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Now, get comfy, sweetheart, ‘cause I missed this pretty little pussy.”

—

“Where is it? Where is it? Where the fuck is it?”

You’d torn your apartment apart. Old storage boxes that gathered dust were now open and emptied. Your clothes were thrown all over the place. You managed to push the couch and check the floor, but you found nothing but crumbs and linty hair ties. 

Tears started to blur your vision, and your chest felt heavy, like the entire world sat directly on your lungs. Your breath was just as shaky as your hands that tugged at the roots of your hair. You ran to your mess of a kitchen and scrambled for your phone, typing the familiar number from memory.

Your ex-husband answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Where’s Eli?” You heard him call your name, but his confusion was the last thing on your mind. “Benson’s stuffed cow, Eli. Where is it? I can’t find it.”

He sighed, his voice lower and more scratchy than you remembered. He must’ve been crying, too, you thought. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You helped me move out. Did you take it? I swear to god—”

“I didn’t take the damn cow.” He snapped. “Do you think I’m that selfish that I would keep it from you?”

“I didn’t call to rehash our marriage, alright? I need Eli, okay? I need him.”

The line went silent. You both knew you weren’t talking about the stuffed animal anymore. He let out a deep breath. “Have you tried therapy?”

“I don’t need to pay a bunch of money to have someone tell me I need to get over the death of our child.” You hissed, scrunching your nose at the suggestion. 

“Have you been to his grave?”

You wiped your tears away, thinking about the cold, unfeeling stone that solidified your son’s death. You hadn’t seen it since the funeral. You took a shaky breath, “Do you have Eli or not?”

“I don’t.”

He tried to speak once more, but you already hung up. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe without this one piece of your son. Tears dropped onto your phone screen as you scrolled and scrolled through your contacts, finding the name you were looking for. The line rang three times before a deep voice greeted you. “What’s up?”

“I need to see you. Where can we meet?”

Hours later, Michael was walking toward his apartment building with Carmy. He’d been purposefully avoiding bringing up The Beef, and luckily Carmy didn’t push. Instead, his little brother decided to bring up the little stuffed animal that Michael had pushed into his jacket pocket. “So,” Carmy started quietly, “You startin’ a collection with that thing or…?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael laughed. He pulled the stuffed cow out of his pocket. “It’s my girl’s. Remember I told you about her son?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes she likes to talk to me about him. She brought this over to my place a few weeks ago to show me. Apparently, the kid was obsessed with cows.”

“No shit. Look at you, bein’ vulnerable.” Carmy chuckled in amazement, admiring his brother’s new relationship.

“Yeah, whatever. The, uh, anniversary of his death is coming up, and she’ll probably be wanting this, so you can meet her while you’re here if she’s feeling up to it. Sound good?”

“‘F course.”

When Michael unlocked the front door, he was met with chaos. The front door banged into the coat closet door, somehow left open with coats strewn across the floor. The rug in his living room was flipped over, and the couch was now far from the wall. Michael was only brought back to reality by the stunned woah that passed through Carmy’s lips.

Somehow, Michael knew. He wasn’t a mind reader, but he remembered that feeling. A feeling that bubbled in the pit of his stomach, traveling throughout his body until it pounded at his head. It was dread, hopelessness, not knowing how he’d find the strength to take another breath. He knew, and he needed to help you.

“Di-Did someone break into your house or something?” Carmy asked, closing the door behind him.

“Just stay here for a second, little brother, okay?” Michael’s voice was dismissive, preoccupied, as he followed the trail of despair into the kitchen.

And there you sat. Red eyes, swollen from crying. Head lulling from side to side and your heart almost numb enough to keep the darkness from creeping in and making a home, uninvited,  in the hole of your chest. Your arms circled around your knees that you’d drawn up to your chest, hugging them close. Maybe, if you squeezed hard enough, you could stop grieving and move on.

Michael approached slowly, like you were a wounded animal. “Baby?”

“I couldn’t stop myself.”

“We don’t have to—”

“Please don’t hate me.”

He crouched down in front of you, steadied your head with a firm hand on your cheek. His warm, calloused skin helped to ground the thoughts in your fuzzy head. He looked you in the eyes, bold and sincere, just as you had when he relapsed. “I could never hate you. Never, you hear me?”

You paused for a moment before trying to explain. “I couldn’t find Eli, and I just- I started going fucking crazy—”

“Eli?” He asked, pulling the stuffed cow from his pocket. “Sweetheart, I have Eli. You left him the time you came over a couple weeks ago, and I was gonna take him back to yours.”

Michael thought the knowledge would console you, warm your heart enough to give him just the tiniest hint of a smile. But you just threw your head back frustratedly, the impact against the wall causing a dull pain to crash through the back of your skull. “Fuck.”

“Baby, why—”

“I’m so stupid.”

“You’re no—”

Tears gathered once more. “If I had just called you… I’m an idiot.”

“Hey,” He regained your attention, this time with both hands holding your face steady. “You’re not stupid. You’re not an idiot. You just made a mistake, ‘s all.”

“I fucking relapsed, Michael.”

“I’ve relapsed, and look at me, huh? Picture of a healthy, law-abiding citizen.”

“Michael.”

“You’ll start over. Just like I did. Here, give me your phone.” You dug around in your pocket and pulled out your phone, handing it to him. He turned the screen toward you so you could watch as he scrolled through your contacts until he found your dealer’s name. Then, with zero hesitation, he blocked the number. “See? Good as new, yeah?”

If tears could show your appreciation, you’d have cried an ocean’s worth. But the most you could do was throw your heavy arms around his shoulders and press a chaste kiss to the base of his neck. To you, nothing you could ever do or say would be enough, but to Mikey? If he could take your burdens and make them his own, carry the weight of your world on his back, he’d do it without a second thought. Your appreciation wasn’t needed — only your love. And he knew he had that.

“Uh, Mikey?” Carmen’s voice called from the living room. “What the fuck is this?”

Michael reluctantly untangled himself from you for a moment, signaling for you to stay quiet. But you knew what was in there — you’d left the needle on his coffee table. Immediately, you could hear Mikey try to calm his brother down. “Carmen, it’s not what you think.”

“You sure? ‘Cause that looks like a fuckin’ needle. Jesus Christ, are you—”

“I’m not high, Carm, just listen for a second.”

“Listen to what?” His voice got louder, more angry. “Michael, are you fuckin’ serious? You know this family has… issues and this is what you do? Fucking shit!”

“Hey, relax, alright? You’re making a big deal out of nothin’.”

“Nothing? If you’re getting high, it is a big deal. A huge fuckin’ deal.” Carm pushed his brother on the chest, hoping it’ll knock some sense into him. And Michael, he just curled his fists, restraining himself. The last thing he wanted was to lose control on his own brother. Carmen took a step toward, pointing one accusatory finger.

But before he could get a word out, a small voice, your voice, stopped him. “It’s not his.”

Icy blue eyes met yours as he took in your disheveled frame. You stood in the entrance of the living room, leaning against the threshold to hold yourself up. The high was starting to wear off a little, but you still felt the lingering effects. You tried to give him a smile, but a weary sigh passed through your lips. “Hi Carmen. I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

Carmen looked back and forth from you to Michael. His eyes narrowed as his breath started to even out, confusion replacing anger. “You’re the girlfriend, yeah?” He finally asked, confirming your name.

You nodded, gauging his reaction as he let it all sink in. “I had been sober for a while, so I asked your brother not to say anything. But today was- today was hard.”

“Right,” The younger brother nodded, finally taking a step back and pushing his hands deep into his pockets. “Uh, sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“So, Michael isn’t… he’s not using…?” He knew the words, knew the question he wanted to ask. But he was so afraid, so terrified of what the answer might be.

You knew the answer. It would have been less than savory, admitting that Michael was also an addict and had relapsed more than once since you met. The truth was potentially earth-shattering for Carmen and Michael alike. You glanced over at Michael, at how he hid the fear from his eyes. Still, you see it. In the way his hand flexed at his side, and how he refused to look in your direction. It’s almost like he knew what was coming if you told the truth, that he might have lost his brother for good. 

That fear broke your heart. So, you lied. Took your blame and a little on the side. “No. No, just me.”

You excused yourself back to the kitchen to hide your tears. You hugged Eli close, burying the stuffed animal under your nose.

It smelled like Michael.

—

That fucking fork. 

Fuck forks. Fuck Christmas dinner. Fuck all seven fishes. Fuck Pete’s eighth fish. And, above all, fuck Michael.

Chaos ensued after Michael gave in to his self-destructive tendencies. He all but flipped the table over in an effort to fight. Fak was making sure Sugar and Pete got out unscathed. Carmy practically begged his mother to stay out of it, and she only relented when her eldest son started making taunting braying noises — she retreated to the kitchen with a cigarette and the bottle of merlot in hand.

You gave up trying to help Michael calm down when he wretched himself from your grip, nearly knocking you into a wall in the process. Richie rushed over to help steady you, and Carmy, over all the chaos, called your name, “Yo, are you alright?”

“Peachy.” You called back sarcastically, rubbing your sore arm.

Carmen then turned his attention to his brother. “Michael, shut the fuck up for two seconds, for fuck’s sake! If you don’t calm down, you’re gonna hurt someone!”

“Kinda the point, little brother.” Michael’s eye twitched as he glared at Lee. He tried once more to push past Jimmy to no avail.

“Yeah? Was hurting your girl part of the point, smartass?”

Michael turned to you, the anger in his eyes slowly overtaken with concern. He hadn’t meant to push you; he didn’t even know you were one of the people trying to hold him back. But that didn’t take back his actions. Your gaze went cold as you pulled away from Richie, pushing Michael hard on the chest. “I’m not his fucking girl anymore.”

Then, you hightailed it out of the house. Everyone went silent as you peeled out of the driveway, rubber squealing against pavement.

Richie watched Michael carefully, noticing how his brow furrowed and his chest heaved. He took a step toward him and dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Mikey,” Richie warned, “Don’t do anything stupid.” Michael pulled away and stomped his way up the stairs, leaving Richie to call after his best friend from the dining room. 

Over Richie’s voice, Carmen could hear his mother sobbing in the kitchen followed by the soft glug of wine as she turned the bottle up. And immediately, he followed after his older brother. Richie tried to stop him, “Cousin, he just needs a minute.”

“Yeah, just a minute?” Carmen replied dismissively. “Fuck off, cousin, he’s not a baby.”

He pushed open every door looking for Mikey. Finally, he came upon one door that wouldn’t budge, locked from the inside. Carmy pounded on the bathroom door. “Yo, what the fuck was that?”

“Go away, Carmen.” Mikey paced the bathroom floor, hands pulling at the roots of his hair. He wished he had an answer for his brother, but he came up short. Maybe it was pride, or ego, or his innate tendency to self-destruct, he couldn’t choose. So he just paced the floor, avoiding the sight of his own reflection.

“Mikey, you need to go downstairs and fix this shit, alright?” Carmy continued. “Ma’s drinking herself stupid, Sug’s a mess, your girl just fuckin’ left, c’mon man.”

“Hey, you think I don’t know that?” The older brother hissed.

He braced himself on the sink, finally looking up into the mirror. He looked disheveled, angry. His hair was messy from pulling at it, and the whites of his eyes had a red tint to them. One prominent vein pulsed in his forehead, and suddenly, the need set in. 

His head is fuzzy, brain pounding at his skull. So many thoughts, too many, clouding his head. He lifted his hand to push away a few strands of his hair, limp with sweat, and he realized that his hand was shaking. Even as he closed his fingers into a fist, it trembled like an earthquake. He blinked hard, eyes scrambling as he tried to think of a quick solution, a way to gather himself before he faced his little brother again.

Carmy was quiet as he started to think maybe he should have listened to Richie. “Mikey?”

No answer.

“Mikey, look, I’m sorry—”

The door flung open, and Carmy studied him. His hair was pushed back. His eyes were red, but Carmy assumed Mikey must’ve been crying. Everything seemed right, but there was something he couldn’t place. Something about his big brother that was very wrong. “Nothing to be sorry for, Carm.” Michael told him, one big hand on his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

When Michael started booking it downstairs, Carmy was quick on his trail. “Wait, go? Go where?”

Michael responded with a call of your name, “Gotta make sure she’s good.”

Carmy ran a hand through his golden brown locks as he followed his older brother out the front door. Their sister noticed the argument and followed them out the door, “Whoa, hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Sug, go back inside.” Michael stopped for the briefest moment to turn around and place a kiss on his sister’s forehead.

“He’s leavin’.” Carmy sighed frustratedly.

“He’s leaving?” Sugar turned to Michael. “You’re leaving?”

“Fuckin’ snitch.” Michael mumbled under his breath. He squeezed Sug’s arm with a tight smile, “I’m just goin’ to find my girl, okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”

“How are you even going to find her?” Carm scoffed.

“You know her password, right?” Sug asked her eldest brother. “I wouldn’t normally say this, but you could track her phone. Here, give me yours.”

“What about Ma?” Carmy threw his arms up in defeat. Michael was the one who started all that mess, and now that it was time to pick up the pieces, where did he go? Chasing you. Like always, Carm thought to himself. “You’re the only one who can get through to her when she’s all…” He waved his hands around as if the devastating words he was looking for would magically appear.

“Well, you’re home, ain’t you? She missed you — just sit with her till I get back, alright? I gotta go.”

And just as quickly Mikey was off too, running toward the closest train station.

If there were ever a time for oxy, that would’ve been it. But instead, you drove and drove and drove until the tank was damn near empty. You pulled into a parking lot and called your sponsor. She talked you down, persuading you to delete your dealer’s contact information in your phone. When the long conversation was over, you were still angry, furious even, but you’d at least lost interest in relapsing.

Knock knock knock.

You jumped in the driver’s seat when calloused knuckles tapped on the car window. Michael wasted no time in starting an argument. “What the hell were you thinkin’, leavin’ like that?” He yelled, voice only slightly muffled by the barrier.

“How did you even find me?”

“Sugar showed me how to track your phone.”

“You tracked my phone?”

“Open the fuckin’ door.”

You pushed the door open and got out of the car, deciding your best course of action would be to walk away from him. “Leave me alone, Michael.”

“Where are you goin’?” He was quick to follow you as you walked down the street, just a few strides behind.

“Leave me alone.”

“What’s the plan here, huh?” He asked. “You just gonna keep walkin’ till your feet fall off?”

“No, just till I’m away from you, Michael.” You retorted coldly.

“Hey, stop calling me that.”

“That’s your name!”

“Not to you! To you it’s Mikey, or baby, or my love, not fuckin’ Michael!”

“Fuck you, Michael!” You caught him off guard when you spun around, poking your index finger into his chest. “You couldn’t just let it be. You had to ruin Christmas for the whole fucking family!”

“Why do you care so much, huh?”

“Why do I— Jesus, do you even hear yourself? You do nothing but ruin shit for yourself for no goddamn reason! No one forced you to throw that fork!”

Michael scoffed and ran his hand over his lips, his warm breath evaporating into the cold air as he raised his voice again. “So we’re gonna pretend that’s why you’re upset? Because of the fork?”

“I’m upset because you ruined any chance at having a good Christmas with our family!”

“They’re not our fuckin’ family.” He laughed, though no traces of humor could be found in his eyes. “They’re mine! Okay? I’m the fuckin’ Berzatto, not you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You parted your lips to retort, but he just kept going, slicing your heart in two with expert precision.

“You wanna act like the- the chaos bothers you, but you thrive on that shit — You’re just in a shitty mood because you miss your own family, and now that you can’t replace them with mine, you want some fuckin’ oxy to ease the pain, ain’t that right?”

Smack!

You’d never hit Michael before, never wanted to. Like any couple, you had your share of fights and passive aggressive comments. One thing you two never did, though, was weaponize your addictions against each other. It was an unsaid invisible line that had never been crossed until now. Michael Berzatto, the man you loved more than life itself, had never been so mean. At least not to you. 

It happened faster than you expected, your small hand reaching up and slapping across his stubbly cheek. He just stood there, eyes dark and slightly angry, but you weren’t afraid. You were furious, hot tears filling your eyes. “Fuck you.”

You slapped him again. And again. Then, you beat on his chest with your fists. Michael started trying to swat your hands away, but when that proved ineffective, he caught your wrists in his hands, yanking you into a nearby alley, away from the night’s few prying eyes. 

“Stop, stop.” He grunted when you landed another smack to his head, finally pinning you up against the nearby brick wall by your wrists. “Stop.”

“I hate you.” You spat.

“No, you don’t.”

You continued to fight against his grip, but he was strong and steady, keeping you in place as you continued to tell him how much you despise him. He knew he was wrong, but he refused to say it. After all the shit that went down that night with his family, with you, he felt like he was going crazy. It was like he was abandoned in the middle of the ocean in a boat with a tiny hole. And even though the hole was small, it was so methodically cut that water was pouring in like a faucet, and the boat was sinking. So he grabbed onto the only lifeline he was certain would be there: you.

You, with the most beautiful eyes that were now filled with angry tears. You, the hero of all his dreams and the victim in all his nightmares. You, whose heart was so broken, so crumbled when he met you, yet still managed to love him with all your being.

He loved you. 

It all hit him at once, and he gently pressed his lips to yours. You turned your head away from him, rasping out your hatred once more. “I hate you.”

“You don’t.” His voice was deep and rough, but the tone was soft. Was he even talking to you?

“Yes, I fucking do.”

His lips trailed across your jawline, wet kisses placed on his path. “No, you don’t.”

You hated how easily he was able to do this to you, like pushing a button. You were supposed to be angry with him. You were angry with him. But your body didn’t care about the argument. Your body slowly gave up the fight against his grip, wanting the heat that his touch produced, your emotions be damned. A few tears fell from your eyes just as a soft moan slipped past your lips, an instinctive response to the way Michael’s body pressed yours against the wall, his growing length pressed into your hip. 

He slipped a leg between yours, pushing his denim-covered thigh into your pussy. You could feel a wave of arousal soaking your panties. “You’re mean, Michael.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He admitted quietly.

He used his grip on your wrists to gently pull your hands to your breasts. He pressed your hands in before covering them with his own, helping you knead the sensitive flesh. Even beneath your layers, you could feel his touch, and it made you whimper. His deft thumb ran over your hardening nipples, and a soft groan tumbled from his lips. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noted his acknowledgement. And his lack of apology.

He kept up his movements, moving your hands to squeeze your breasts, pressing his thigh into your weeping pussy. Somewhere along the way, your hips began to rock back and forth on him. His brown eyes never left yours, even as you cried. It was strange, how your heart hurt so badly that tears fell freely down your face, but your body was pushed closer and closer to the edge.

Still, you gasped for breath as the pleasure began to creep out of your core. “Mi- Mikey,” You moaned. “Please!”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby. Let it all out.”

And it all came out at once, sobs pushing past your lips as euphoria crashed over your body in waves. You clenched around nothing, head tipping back to hit the brick wall. But you never felt the cold brick — one of Michael’s hands left your breast to cup the back of your head, the protective gesture juxtaposing the unending push of his thigh into your pussy to help ride out your orgasm.

Even as your orgasm faded away, your hips continued to buck against him. Your hands found a new home on his broad chest, trailing down, down, down until you felt the leather of his brown  belt. You wasted no time in unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, sliding the zipper down so you could easily reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He moaned at your firm grasp, hips bucking into your touch.

Everything moved much quicker now, more desperate than before. You stroked his cock, spreading his precum along the shaft. His forehead pressed against yours as he stared at the way your smaller hand worked him over, twisting over the head on every downward stroke. “Fuck, that’s good.” He groaned.

“Help me.” You whined needily as you thrust your hips against his thigh once more, hoping he’d get the message.

He nodded quickly, kneeling down in front of you. His big hands slide up your thighs under your jean skirt, flipping the rough fabric up over your belly. Your legs were covered by sheer black stockings, a layer of protection from the cold winter chill. But neither of you could bear to wait, to take them off properly. He tore a large hole in the crotch and pushed your panties to the side, muttering curses at how your arousal shone in the moonlight. 

“Perfect fuckin’ cunt, sweetheart.” He pushed his index finger through your swollen lips, collecting your juices before slipping into your twitching hole. “Can you take two for me?”

He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He pushed his middle finger in on the second thrust, curving them to press on that spongy spot on your upper wall that you can never reach yourself. You cried out his name, and your back arched off the wall. His fingers were bigger than yours, thicker too, but they still didn’t fill you the way that you needed.

You whimpered when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking firm and hard. “Want your cock, Mikey. Want- oh shit!”

Your orgasm was hard and unexpected, pulling you under before you could even tell him to fuck you. Your legs buckled, and you buried your hands in his thick, black hair to ground yourself. A muffled moan came from between your legs when you tugged on the roots, trying to pull him off your sensitive clit.

He finally relented, pulling away from you and pushing his fingers, soaked in you, into his mouth. He licked them clean without hesitation, only stopping when you tugged on his wrist. You pulled him in by his shirt, kissing him. It was deep and passionate, proving what you both knew to be true.

You didn’t hate him. Maybe you wanted to, but you didn’t. Or maybe couldn’t is the better word.

He cupped your face with both his large hands, wiping away any remnants of tears from your earlier sobs. His tongue licked into your mouth as you moaned, tasting the sweet tang of your juices in his saliva. You reached down to stroke his cock again, and he crowded you closer to the wall. “Want you inside.” You whispered.

“I know, baby.”

His open jeans impeded his efforts to get closer to you, buttons, zipper, and belt now in the way. His hands hurried to push the waistband of his open jeans down and out, ignoring how the frosty air raised goosebumps on his skin. His belt buckle jingled loudly, and something clattered to the pavement, but you could only focus on getting him inside you. His hands returned to your face, making you keep your gaze on his.

You pushed his cock through your pussy lips, let your arousal messily coat his shaft until it was all over your inner thighs. Both your panting was the only thing you could hear over the wet sounds of his length sliding between your swollen lips. You whined when the head of his dick bumped against your clit. 

“Guide me in, sweetheart.” He told you, eyes locked on yours. “Take what you want.”

His head, already weeping with precum, nudged at your entrance, and you canted your hips up until the first few inches sunk inside. You lifted your leg around his hip in an attempt to take more of him, but it wasn’t enough on your own. Finally, he pressed forward, fully sheathing his cock within your soft walls. All the while, Michael held your face between his hands, gazing deep into your eyes as you whimpered. “There you are.” He groaned softly. “My girl.”

Your heart twisted at his words. How could he even say that? After saying the most vile things to you, what made him believe that you’d still be his? He nudged his hips forward a bit, and the tip just barely kissed your cervix, shooting a strange blend of pain and pleasure up your spine. You shook your head, hands grasping at his arms to steady yourself. “No, I… I- fuck, Mikey, I hate you so much.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” You moaned pathetically, still seething, angry enough to lie through your teeth just to give him a glimpse of the pain he caused you. Your nails dug into the thick fabric of his coat as he began to move, thrusting in and out of your cunt. The alley practically echoed with squelching sounds, and anyone walking by would know what was going on in those shadows. But neither of you could bring yourselves to care, lips falling apart as your sensitive walls clamped down on his length.

“You don’t fuckin’ say that to me.” He repeated with a grunt, leaving the tiniest pat on your cheek to regain the attention of your eyes rolling in pleasure. “You love me. Know you do. ‘S — shit, you’re so tight — ‘s the only thing I’m goddamn sure of, you hear me?”

One hand left your cheek to wrap around your thigh, pulling your leg higher around his hip. He thrusted again with renewed strength before looking down to where you both connected. The sight made the pit of his stomach flip deliciously: the slightly tanned base of his cock coated with a creamy white ring, little strands of your wetness dangling between you both when he dared to pull his hips away. “Fuckin’ takin’ my dick so well, baby.” He bit his lip, his voice sounding almost entranced. “Squeezin’ like you don’t want me to leave.”

“Good thing I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He continued, groaning when your hands slid up his back and into his hair. You pulled hard, and his thrusts faltered ever so slightly. His other hand left your cheek to brace himself against the wall, and his head fell into the crook of your neck, puffs of his hot breath warming your skin.

“You can’t keep doing this shit, M-Mikey. Can’t take your shit out on me.” You mewled as he adjusted his grip on you, pushing you closer to the wall. He left you no space to squirm when his hips started to move faster, his cock bullying its way in and out of your soft, puffy folds to nudge against the spongy spot on your upper wall. You cried out as that unique sensation shot pleasure to every nerve ending in your body, “Fuck, right there!”

“I got you, sweetheart, that’s it.” He responded in kind, adjusting his stance just right so he could drag the notch of his cockhead along your G-spot with every thrust. “Right there, yeah?”

“Oh my god, don’t stop. You’re gonna make me come!”

Michael lifted his head from your neck, meeting your eyes again. They were dark, glazed over, as he slowed his hips, still moving but not enough to finish you off. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he flooded your insides with his release, but he wanted to hear you say it: he wanted you to take back your words. “Say you don’t mean it.”

Your pussy fluttered around him in tandem with the whine spilling past your lips. “Mikey—”

“You don’t hate me. You love me. Say it.” He punctuated each sentence with a nudge against your G-spot, soft and tempting.

“N-no, you,” You heaved out a shuddering breath when his fingertips met your swollen clit, rubbing in tight, slow, torturous circles. “You’re being unfair. You- oh my god, yes - you can’t be n-nasty to me and—” 

“Just say it for me, baby.” He mumbled against your lips. He was practically begging you to take it back, but, of course, Michael Berzatto would never stoop to such lengths. So, he kept rubbing your clit and nudging your G-spot, punching the breath out of you with his thick cock. “Promise I’ll make you come. I’ll make it so fuckin’ good for you. Just need to hear it.”

And, of course, as you always did, you gave in. “I didn’t mean it.” You admitted breathlessly. “I love you.”

The tension visibly rolled off his shoulders as his head dropped to your breasts, pounding your cunt as you moaned beneath him. “Fuck, I love you, too, baby. Love you so fuckin’ much, it hurts.” He groaned into your skin.

“Mikey, ‘m close!” You gasped, the assault on your cunt and clit too much to bear. 

“Wanna feel you squeeze my cock, sweetheart.” He huffed, nails digging into your thighs, your stockings providing no refuge from the dull pain. “Show me how much you love me, c’mon.”

And then, white-hot, earth-shattering pleasure. You nearly blacked out as you clenched around him, stars burning into supernovas behind your eyelids. Your fluttering walls begged him to stay buried deep inside you. Back arched against the wall, your breasts pushed closer to his face, and he didn’t bother lifting up, resting his cheek on the soft fabric that covered your warm flesh as he fell over the edge with you. He groaned out your name as he shot thick spurts of his warm, sticky come inside you. He knew he’d never come so much in his life, only lifting his head when he heard louder squelching noises from where you both connected. 

As he thrusted, slow and deep, the white creamy juices that once only circled the base of his cock dribbled out of your pussy, around the sides of his length. A bit slid down your thigh, and his eyes rolled back, reveling in how his balls pulsed with pleasure at the sight.

His whole body relaxed as you both rode out the waves of pleasure. As you came down from your orgasm, your head lolled to the side. Your eyes fluttered closed as you cherished his weight on top of you. When your eyes opened, your vision was still a tad blurry, but you blinked through the fog. 

There was something bright on the ground. It was small, cylindrical, and… red? No — it was orange.

“What’s that?”

Michael hummed in response, his speech a bit slurred. “What’s what?”

He lifted his head from your breasts, following your gaze. And he froze, eyes stuck on the tiny bottle of painkillers he’d swiped from his mother’s medicine cabinet after you left. It must have fallen from his pocket when he opened his jeans.

“Are you high right now?”

Michael almost cringed at your whisper. It was different from all your yelling and slapping and arguing before. You were just mad then, and he knew that he could win you over like he had a million times before. This time, it was sad. Cold. Disappointed. 

He wasn’t sure if he could come back from that.

You wriggled beneath him until you could push him away, watching him stumble a bit. He was no longer standing tall, a bit slouched, and he swayed aimlessly from side to side. With the way he was fucking you, his blood was pumping, so they must just now be kicking in at full force. You knew — you were certain of the answer, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Michael. Are you high?”

He had just enough of his wits left to take a step toward you with remorse in his voice, “Baby, I—”

You held up a hand, taking a step away from him. “I… I’ll call Richie. You can stay with him tonight. Or your mother, I don’t….” He called your name again as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt back down over your ass. “I can’t do this with you right now, Michael.”

You waited for a moment. For what, you weren’t sure. An apology? An explanation? An unremorseful tirade? Part of you would have even been okay with a fight.

But he just leaned against the brick wall, unable to support himself on his own any longer. He clumsily tucked his softening length back into his pants and mumbled his short reply, a correction. “‘S Mikey.”

Snow began to fall in time with your tears. You drew your coat closer, and turned your back to him. “I’m going home.”

—

“Besides work, how’ve you been feeling?”

“I don’t know, just extremely tired all the time. But what else is new, y’know?”

“And how’s your love life?”

“This is your way of asking if I’m still sleeping with Michael.”

“Well, are you?”

You let out a scoff as you adjusted your position on the couch. Your therapist, Deborah, watched you with knowing eyes as you sat against the arm of the couch, offhandedly pulling a throw pillow into your lap. Your index finger wrapped endlessly around the fringe as you carefully mulled over your words. “Well, I haven’t relapsed in almost a year and a half.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Also not what I asked.”

“Okay, I’m still seeing him. Or, sleeping with him.”

“So, it’s not a relationship?”

“No.”

“Do you want it to be?”

You paused. You thought about the possibilities of what could have been — of what once had been. Dates, family dinners, shared apartment. Maybe you’d have gotten married and had kids. You’d have brought them up to be better, to break the cycle of whatever crazy shit made you both the way you were. But you also had to accept who he was. 

You replied, “No.” It was a lie, and Deborah knew that, but you played it off anyway.

She leaned forward, setting her notepad down and resting her elbows on her knees. “Is he still using?”

You nodded reluctantly, “He says he’s not. And he hasn't been high around me since the, uh, Christmas dinner thing last year. But I’ve seen it… pill bottles lying around. Prescriptions that aren’t his.”

You trail off, once again running through what might have been. Would Michael still be sober if you stayed with him? Were you the only thing keeping him from losing his mind? Were you to blame? Your finger slowed around the fringe, heart aching in your chest. 

Deborah gave you a cautionary look, like she could read your mind. “Stop it.”

You sighed, “But what if—”

“Michael is a grown man. His sobriety is his responsibility, and his alone. Just like yours.” She repeated the same words that she did almost every session, reminding you that you were not at fault. “I know it hurts, and it’s okay to let it, but you cannot blame yourself for his decisions.”

“I just- I miss him. How he used to be. But if this is all I can get…” You feel pathetic for even admitting it, but it was the truth.

Deborah watched you carefully, knowing that there wasn’t much she could do but advise you. You were going to see Michael whether it was a good idea or not. So she figured you should know what you’re really getting into. She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Do you know what codependency is?”

Your brow furrowed, “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“It’s when two people depend on each other in an unhealthy way. Usually, one person learns to placate the other, keep them calm, while the other person continues unhealthy behaviors because they know their partner will be there to help them when it gets too bad.”

“Okay, I see where you’re going here. It’s not healthy for me—”

“It’s not healthy for either of you.” She clarified. “I know you love Michael. And I’m sure he loves you as much as he can. But I think the best way for you to help him and yourself — if that’s what you want to do — is to stop enabling him.”

Stop enabling him. 

That’s all you could think about for the rest of the session. Those three words terrified you. How would he react if you put your foot down, if you said this needed to stop? What if he never spoke to you again? You loved him, the man that put your heart back together when it was in a million shattered pieces. You were lost, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Twenty minutes later, when you left your therapist’s office, your phone dinged with a text. It was Michael, as usual;

u busy tonight? wanna see u. 

And of course, you gave in. But not without thinking up a plan. You took a deep breath and typed out your reply:

meet me in the parking lot off fourth street at 7:30. wanna take u somewhere.

And you tried to hold out, you really did. But no sooner than you arrived, Michael’s lips were on your neck, sucking and licking, making it hard to think. Before you could even remember Deborah’s warning, you were in the backseat of his car, fogging up the windows as you bounced up and down on his cock. “‘M gonna come!” You warned him.

“Go on, sweetheart.” He encouraged with a groan, strong hands plastered flat against your sweaty back. “Tight cunt’s gonna pull the come right outta me.”

“Fuck, ‘m coming, Mikey!” You whimpered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. His hands gripped your hips, grinding you down on his cock to ride out your orgasm. Your clit bumped deliciously against his pubic bone, and your walls clamped down even tighter, throwing Michael headfirst into his own orgasm.

“Holy- oh my god, don’t fuckin’ stop, baby.” He moaned, throwing his head back. His hips pushed up of their own accord, his thick cock twitching inside you as he shot his come as deep as he could go. He brought one hand down on your ass as you thrusted weakly against him. “That’s it, sweetheart, get every drop.”

You rested your weight on him, your sweaty forehead against the leather headrest. You both took a silent moment to catch your breath, regroup after the explosive sex you always seem to have. Turns out, even with all your disagreements, the attraction never stopped. His hands rubbed up and down your back, almost lulling you to sleep until he pressed his fingertips a little harder, and a moan passed through your lips, eyes shooting open. Michael chuckled deeply and kneaded at that spot, “What was that?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.” You admitted, tension rolling away as he worked at the knot. “My back has been killing me lately.”

“Work?”

“Maybe, but ‘m not sure. Just hurts sometimes.”

“Lucky for you, you got your own personal masseuse.”

You snorted, “My hero.”

His hand smacked against your backside playfully, making you jolt on his lap with a giggle. He laughed along with you, “Watch that tone, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, laughter dying down as your eyes haphazardly scanned the ledge of the back window. And next to an empty cup, you saw a piece of paper. A prescription made for Natalie Berzatto.

And it hit you like a train. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t fair to either of you. You couldn’t keep taking the best parts of him and ignoring the fact that he needed help. And he couldn’t expect you to be around at his beck and call forever. The time for playing pretend was over — you needed to take a real step for the both of you. 

You swung your leg over his lap and sat next to him, scanning the car floor for your panties. “Get dressed. I still have somewhere to take you.”

“You kidnappin’ me, baby?”

“It’s only kidnapping if you don’t go willingly.”

Minutes later, you were walking into a nearby building. The entire walk, he asked and asked where you were taking him, but you never answered, merely saying it was a surprise. When he walked in, and his eyes fell on the folded chairs set in a circle, his smile dropped. Without another word, he turned around and walked out.

“Michael, wait!” You were close behind, following him back outside into the hot, sticky summer night. “Just listen to me, okay?”

“So- so you think ‘cause you’re sober now you can do whatever the fuck you want, is that it?” He asked, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I told you I wasn’t fuckin’ using anymore!” He yelled at you.

“And I know that you are!” You snapped back. “I’ve seen the empty pill bottles, Michael. All the prescriptions that are never in your own fucking name. I’m not stupid!”

“Stupid enough to keep comin’ back!” He spat at you. “W-what changed, huh? Is it the therapist? ‘Cause before her, you were happy to just fuck me and leave, pills be damned.”

“Oh, fuck that, Michael.” You laughed humorlessly, pushing at his chest. “You are not doing that anymore, being a dick to me because you can’t accept the truth.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what would the truth be, sweetheart? Fuckin’ enlighten me.”

“That you’re gonna fucking destroy yourself if you don’t get help!” You shouted. Tears were filling your eyes at the thought, and you realized you weren’t even angry. You were desperate — desperate for him to do something, anything to help himself. “You- you push everyone that loves you away! Me, Richie, Carm—”

“You leave Carmen outta this.” He grumbled, looking away to avoid seeing the tears that fell down your face.

“Everyone that cares, everyone that tries to help, you just treat them like complete and utter shit because you don’t know how to ask for help! But you don’t have to fucking ask, Mikey — we’re offering! You just have to take it and do something before it’s too late!”

Michael was quiet, eerily so. There was a time when you would’ve been able to read him like a book, to say exactly what he needed to hear. But you couldn’t anymore. And that scared you.

You stepped forward with a sniffle, placing your hands on his biceps. You rubbed up and down in a way that you hoped was comforting. “Just one meeting. That’s all I’m asking.”

When he finally looked back at you, his chest tightened at the sight. Your beautiful eyes, filled with tears and a shimmer of hope that he might agree. And part of him wanted to. Some inkling deep down inside of him wanted to wipe your tears, take your hand, and march into that meeting determined to stay sober for the rest of his life. If only to settle down and make a life with you, one that he could be proud of.

But, as always, something stopped him. A small doubt creeping in, telling him he couldn’t do it. That he wasn’t capable of normality, that it wasn’t in his blood. He was drowning in sorrow and pity, and he was willing to accept that darkness — welcomed it, even. But what kind of man would he be if he dragged you under with him? He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head. Your hands slid up his forearms and stopped on his wrists with a desperate iron grip. His voice was barely a whisper, “I’m not going to that meeting, baby.”

“Mikey, please.” You begged. “I love you.”

“You can’t fix me.” He hoped you heard what he meant to say: I love you, too.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and responded in kind. It was gentle, melancholic, but it was his way of saying goodbye. His way of expressing the love that he could never quite show you in the way you deserved. But the love was there nonetheless, tearing at his heart until his chest was hollow, nothing left but the memory of you.

When he pulled away, he had to pry your hands off him and take a step back. He gave you a sad smile, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Enjoy your meeting, sweetheart.”

He turned around and walked away. A few tears escaped his eyes when he heard a heart-wrenching sob pass through your lips. He wiped them away quickly and tried to walk faster. 

He was gone the next month.

—

“We’re closed!”

“Maybe you should lock the door then.”

You were still in your black dress and heels when you arrived at The Beef. No one knew where Carmy was, but you’d had an idea in the back of your head. You weren’t sure if you were right, but it only made sense that he’d be at his brother’s restaurant. 

Well, at the restaurant his brother left him. 

When Carmy emerged from the back, he stared, his eyes red from crying. “How’d you know I was here?”

You shrugged, “This is usually where I’d find him too.”

“Yo, please, please don’t come in here with that sentimental bullshit, alright?” He said, his tone sharp and mean. “If I wanted to hear about how great he was, I would’ve gone to the funeral.”

“You should’ve been there anyway. He was your brother.” 

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, Carmen, I didn’t come here to pick a fight.”

He turned on his heel, stomping back to the kitchen, and you followed close behind. “What did you come for then?”

“We’re going to a meeting.”

Carmy kneeled on the floor, next to a bucket of soapy water and a wet rag. He picked it up and wrung it out with a grunt. “What are you talking about?”

“Would you prefer NA or AA?”

He was scrubbing at the same dirty spot that he had for the last hour and a half, but your question made him pause. He looked up at you in disbelief, letting out a scoff. “Excuse me?”

“There are two NA groups I know of, but only one AA, and it starts soon so—”

“Y’know, you’re the addict here, not me.”

“Which is exactly how I know you need to go to a meeting.”

He was seething, an angry red steadily creeping from his neck to his face, one prominent vein bulging in his forehead as he shouted at you. “Goddamnit, I don’t need to go to a fuckin’ Al-Anon meeting! I’m just grieving, alright?!”

“Carm—”

“No, fuck that. The whole reason I didn’t go to the funeral is so I wouldn’t be around that bullshit! You know how Ma gets, and without Mikey here to fix it…”

“Michael was never gonna fix your mother.”

“Right, ‘cause he was too busy trying to fix you.” Carmen let out a harsh chuckle. “‘I’ll call you back, my girl needs me. Hold on, my girl is on the other line.’ Instead of fixing his restaurant, or-or helping his mother, he was making sure you were on the right track. Making sure you don’t relapse.”

Your heart stopped. Your blood burned. You wanted to let loose on him then and there. Yell and shout and cry about how Michael could barely fix himself, let alone you. You wanted to tell Carmen that it was you who desperately tried to fix Michael, make him sober, turn him into the man you knew he could be. Or at least, the one you believed he could be. The man Carm thought he was.

It baffled you how the entire family managed to hide the fact that Michael was an addict from Carmy. But it was a group effort, a last ditch effort to give him the big brother he’d always wanted, the one he remembered from his childhood. He was truly blind to Michael’s true nature, but you knew it was partially because Carmy had his own thing going on. You could see it behind his eyes — it was the same look Michael got before he did something self-destructive. 

Instead of yelling or screaming like you wanted to, tears filled your eyes. You knew from experience the Berzatto men could be mean, especially under pressure, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Unlike earlier in the day, you couldn’t hold them back. Tears fell freely down your cheeks. 

But unlike when his older brother spat unkind words your way, Carmy didn’t try to distract you from it or talk his way out of it. No, his face dropped when he realized the severity of his words. He watched as your knees buckled beneath you, moving across the floor to catch you once an ugly sob wretched its way past your lips. He held you as your body shook with the emotions that you’d been ignoring all day. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, stroking your hair with his thumb. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, okay?”

You don’t know how long you cried. You just sobbed and sobbed until there was nothing left, until you felt completely and utterly empty. Luckily, Carmy helped you sit on the floor. He sat next to you, both your backs against the dishwasher. It creaked loudly under your combined weight, and you sat up. “Sorry,” You croaked out. “Should I not lean on that?”

Carmy chuckled quietly and drew his knees up, resting his forearms atop them. “Piece of shit doesn’t work, don’t worry about it.”

The tiniest smile tugged at your lips as you leaned back and wiped away your tears. “Good. For me, I mean. Sucks for business though.”

His smile faded away as he watched you wipe your tears. His stomach turned uncomfortably at the fact that he’d been so mean, that he’d made you cry. He knew, of course, that he wasn’t the only reason you broke down, but he didn’t like that he piled on. He called your name softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Carm, it’s ok—”

“It’s not.” He shook his head, blue eyes piercing into yours. “You were right. Michael couldn’t fix Ma’s problems. And you didn’t need him to fix yours. He was lucky to have you.”

A sigh passed through your lips, and for the first time in a long time, tension rolled off your shoulders. “He loved you, Carmen.”

He fought back a sad smile, “He loved you, too.”

You paused, tears of grief filling your eyes before you remembered what you came for. You took a deep breath and wiped at your cheeks. “I need to show you something.”

His brow furrowed, turning a bit to face you, resting one leg on the ground. “What?”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled off the case. You lifted the strip of film from your rubber case, handing it to him. “This is why I need to go to an NA meeting tonight. Figured you could go with me.”

A hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes, Carmy let out a single quiet sob as he stared at the two black and white ultrasounds. “Is it…?”

You nodded, “They are.”

“They?”

“Turns out, you can’t forget to take birth control for even one day. I thought taking two the next day might help, but here we are.” Chuckling quietly, you wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall once more. “I’m not… I’m not asking you to replace Mikey or be their dad or anything. It would… y’know, just be nice not to do this by my—”

“Woah, hey,” He stopped you with a shake of his head, not even wanting you to think like that. “You’re family, period. Have been since Michael brought you home. And always will be. Alright?”

Finally, a sliver of hope. You smiled, “Yeah.”

“Good.” He handed the photos back to you gently, as if one wrong move would ruin them. Then, he stood on his feet, wiping a hand over his face and taking a deep breath. He offered his hand. “Now, come on. I’m taking you to your meeting.”

[luveline]

Omg what about reader talking to Eddie and she just starts crying bc she's just loves him so so much and Eddie is so confused what's happening and for a sec he thinks it's bc the joke he made hurt her feelings and he's just like "baby sorry no I'm sorry ur not too chatty" and like "ur crying bc u love him? Why is that making u cry??"

“And we went back to her place and slept four to a bed. I'm surprised I had it in me, but I guess I was, you know, sixteen.” You stab a particularly nice looking roasted potato with your fork and put it on his plate. “It's kind of crazy. I couldn't do that now, I'm too old. My back would hurt too much. I can only sleep in my bed or your bed.” 

“Mine, please.” 

You laugh and give him another potato off of your plate. He already has potatoes, but this is how you are. You won't accept them back —he's tried to stop you before, with less than optimal results. “Yours for sure. I'm too full to drive.” 

“That's what I like to hear.” He pushes his plate away in case a third potato is on its way, gesturing to your food with his knife. “Is yours warm enough?”

“Sure.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and take the sip of your shared drink with a refreshed smile. “Ah, and that's really cold.” 

“We could still do stuff like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“You know, like you and your friends did. I know we're not sixteen anymore but we can still have fun.” 

“I do have fun.” 

He shrugs and stands, picking up your empty glass to refill for you. “And we'd get to sleep in our own bed at the end,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We'll go out this weekend and do all that fun stuff. But with fewer felonies.” 

“They weren't felonies,” you say. 

Eddie laughs as he makes his way to the sink. He loves this, having dinner with you, letting you talk his ear off. “You're nonstop tonight, baby, somebody put a quarter in you or what?” 

“Two quarters,” you say. 

He makes a drink. It can't take long. He rinses out the glass, fills it with coke, grabs a handful of ice cubes from the fridge and wipes the counter when he's done. He sits across from you as he had been, waiting to hear more of your story or maybe whatever plans you'd like to make this weekend, but he stops cold, because you're crying in your seat all quiet and secretive, looking down at your lap. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, panic shooting through him, quick and unapologetic, “Hey. Hey, what's wrong? You're crying.” 

He reaches across the table for your hand. “I wasn't trying to be mean,” he says hurriedly. “You're chatty, but you're my chatty– uh, thing, you know? Not that you're a thing. You're not a thing.” Eddie squeezes your hand, swapping panic for a more serious demand. “What's wrong?” 

“Eddie, stop,” you say. 

“You stop. What's wrong, sweetheart? You gotta tell me.” His voice fries with pleading. 

“I just love you.” 

He stares at you. “What?” 

“I love you, Eddie…” You sniff and wipe your cheek. “Sorry, I'm not trying to be a loser,” —you laugh, and his racing heart starts to settle— “just you're the only person I know who'd sit here listening to me babble and figure out what I'm trying to say. I'm so lucky. I love you so much.” 

Eddie feels a heat growing along his waterline. “Well, hey, I love you too. You're the only person I'd wanna sit and listen to. You get that?” 

“I know.” You laugh wetly. “I don't know why it made me cry, I was just thinking, you kissed me and I was thinking hey, he really loves me.” 

“I really do.” 

He gets up out of his seat to hug you. While he holds you, you thankfully ride out the short lived bubble of tears, though you do turn into his chest and splutter another I love you. 

He's shocked that someone would feel that way about him, to love him to tears, especially you. So after he's hugged you close, he peels your face away from his neck to cradle your face, locking your eyes, ensuring that what he's about to say will stick. 

“I love you,” he says, nodding, “but you're not lucky. I like listening to you talk. It's the best.” He wipes your cheeks dry tenderly. “Don't waste your tears on me.” 

“Wasn't trying to.” 

He leans down for a gentle kiss. He knows you weren't upset, but he figures you deserve a soft touch anyhow. A very, very soft touch. 

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I'm back. How are you?

How about... A yandere that has had a bunch of lovers and either killed them because he got bored or broke their heart beyond repair? But them he meets the reader and something changes?

Idk it seems like a fun dea.

Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader

Uh ohz, here is the player 🙄 there's a little twist to the request, meowing! I hope you don't mind. (Another Greek mythos twist. Not as blatant as Hades though. Only a bit of the Greek mythos is grabbed, not all.)

I'll see to it how can we break this little man

ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

AND, I AM GOING TO STOP TAKING NEW YANDERE REQUESTS! But, I am going to take asks about the existing yanderes now!

Yandere! Player name: Amor

A resounding slap echoed throughout the bustling cafe, silencing the people talking to each other. The woman, tear stricken and angry, looked at the man in front of her.

"We're over!" She yelled before stomping away from the cafe, leaving the man behind.

The people started to gossip amongst each other, but one particular action by the man stunned them.

He just sat down, took out his phone, and called somebody.

"Hey, fancy meeting tonight? I just know of this nice cafe. Date, my treat."

Shameless, the people thought as he chuckled and ended the call with a lazy smirk, stirring his coffee and sipping it.

Amor. Extremely handsome man. Charming, always knew how to get the ladies.

That's what made him full of shit since being handsome is his only redeeming quality.

He's arrogant, a bastard, selfish, has a pride taller than the Eiffel tower, and a total player.

He juggles women left and right, flavor of the day, who's gonna be my girl for the morning, afternoon, and night?

Why do people flock to this man again?

Ah, because the Gods favor this bitch.

What did he do in his past life that women love this man?

Well, in his past life, he's a boring nerd.

His family loved him dearly, and wanted him to succeed in life.

So, attending academic camps, prestigious schools, goddamn Kumon? He got it all.

Awards, upon awards. He collects them like pokemon.

Did it make him interesting?

No. All he knew is academics, and no outside skill.

He's book smart, not street smart.

Poor guy wasn't even attractive. So, when he finished University in an Ivy League Uni, he's lost. He doesn't have charisma to charm employers, he doesn't have the confidence to do public work...

Well, that, and NASA already hired him.

What? He is not street smart and has a hard time finding a job himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have connections.

In short, he's a Nepo baby.

At least he's a genius so NASA made sure to use him thoroughly.

But, he felt... Bored.

He wanted more from this life of his.

He wanted a girlfriend for fuck's sake!

So, by some stupid and desperation he himself never thought of doing, he turned to the old gods.

The old Gods, surprised by a sudden influx of eager and desperation of faith from only one man, decided to entertain them.

"PLEASE! WHEN I DIE, MAKE ME EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND HAVE WOMEN LEFT AND RIGHT!"

Oh... That's not...

He's really superficial....

Did the Gods care though? Nah. He's really entertaining. Awakening old Gods just for... Women?

So they granted his wish.

When he died of old age (unfortunately for him.), He woke up to another wealthy and loving family. But this time, he's the son of a world renowned Kpop idol, and a Miss Universe.

"This is overkill." Amor thought to himself as his mother cradled her. "But damn, ain't I happy!"

Growing up, even as a kid, girls liked him. He felt like on the top of the world. He retained his memory, so he's practically a gifted child. No, perfect child even!

Except that he's actually a foul kid.

He became arrogant, a snob. Someone who viewed himself too highly for people.

But do his parents care?

Eh...

They spoil the kid a lot. And turn a blind eye to his lack in manners.

Again, went to prestigious Universities, to Kumon, academic camps.

Everything was a breeze for him now.

He got a job as a model immediately. He decided to not go down the academic path, but use his parents' connections once more to climb up the showbiz ladder!

He's still a Nepo baby in this life.

Well, again, his handsomeness is almost too good to be true (work of the goddess of beauty), so his model career is skyrocketing in success.

And women.

Countless of them.

He cycles through them like toilet paper. Throwing them away once he's got his fill.

Yet, people don't care.

He somehow built a reputation off of being a player. When people say that "he broke somebody's heart again!"

"Eh, what did you expect from being in a relationship with Amor?" They would say with a shake of their head and a smile.

That's how much the Gods intervened with his life.

Once he sets his eyes on someone, he 100% would get them.

Unless....

"Tsk. Where can I go now..."

Amor paced around the street, turning heads left and right as this man sculpted by the gods had a worried look on his face.

The cafe he frequents closed down, now he needs a new place to take his women to dates to.

He's about to get his phone when a flyer hit him directly on his face. With an irritated glower, he grabbed the flyer.

"ow! What the f... Oh?"

He stopped, seeing the content.

"new cafe open?"

It looks like a generic cafe. But what was interesting was that the cafe is located in an indoor garden. Like a greenhouse.

"This is interesting. Women love flowers, don't they? And a garden of all places!" He laughs, making the gods stir from the sudden new cafe they got.

They all fuzzed, saying that this would be a good place. But, the goddess of Beauty stirred. Saying she got a bad feeling about this.

"relax, nothing will happen."

And when he got inside the cafe, he immediately got shocked by the barista, you.

Has there ever been an ethereal beauty like you? Someone... Someone who rivals even the goddess of beauty herself?!

The goddess stirred again, shackles raised. She never made you, so why are you this attractive?

Then, the goddess whispered on his ear.

It's to make you fall in love with a monster. Someone ugly, a beast... Anything to get your status down! Nobody can be as beautiful as her!

Envy filled the goddess as she gave Amor arrows to hit you with.

Now, assigned with the task of making you fall in love with what the goddess call a 'monster', he sets off to your house in the middle of the night. With the help of the other Gods, he became invisible and flew on to your balcony.

With a creak, your balcony doors opened. Making him shimmy inside through the small crack.

Yet, fate tempted him as the moonlight hit your form. In a vulnerable state, your androgynous beauty is amplified. Your long eyelashes, your skin... Your figure...

Truly, your beauty rivaled the goddess. No, you were more beautiful than her.

His throat dried, eyes glazed over.

Gods, are they tempting him?

It would be a waste for you to fall in love with an ugly guy.

His fingers twitched, trying to grab the arrow.

"OW!"

He seethed, doubling over as he clutched his finger. It got pricked by the arrow.

He somehow forgot a crucial information.

'whoever the first person the pricked sees if the arrows only pricked one, they will fall in love with the first person they sees.'

And, as his eyes irritably looked at you, overwhelming love filled inside him as he gasped in the sudden influx of emotions.

He kneeled down, eyes wide.

He's rigid. All he could see is your form. Lovely and so bright.

And hid eyes softened. A dull light in it as his lips twitched into a lovesick smile.

He was already attracted to you before, and now, pricked by the arrows, he's utterly obsessed with you.

With a twitch of his hand once more, he grabbed the arrow and stabbed himself fully to the thigh.

"GAGH!"

He doubled over, gasping, twitching for air as his heart pulsed through his ears. His eyes frantically finding your sleeping form before letting out a shaky moan from the satisfaction.

It was like a drug. Everytime he sees you, he gets overwhelmed with feelings of affection.

Is this what love is about?

And before he knows it, the arrows are all used up.

It was morbid, seeing this man stabbed with so many arrows.

But his face says otherwise. Like a drugged up man, overdosed on ecstacy, he was in a drooling trance from the addictive feeling of love for you.

The arrow is effective enough by one arrow, and now this?

Well, let's just say...

"I count, right?" He shakily asked the gods. "I'm a monster, somebody who breaks women's heart left and right."

He trembled, standing up.

He walked over to you, legs unsteady as he dropped to his knees once more and planted his lips on your own.

It tasted, you tasted so sweet, divine upon his lips.

He wants more, but he can't risk waking you up.

"Goodbye, my love. See you tomorrow." Amor whispered, grabbing your hand and dragging his nose on your skin and inhaling your scent. Exhaling shakily, he stood up and flew away.

Let's say, the goddess of Beauty was really angry at him.

But her condition, a 'monster', fits him. So, what can she do?

She gritted her teeth and looked at him with hatred, yet complacency.

You're so pretty, it hurts.

"Welcome to the Psyche cafe! How may I help you-- oh hello, sir Amor! The usual?"

Amor slowly nodded, clearing his throat.

"yes. The usual."

It's been weeks since then. And he made sure to make himself a regular in the cafe. He stopped going on dates, and pulled a lot of strings to somehow burry the player accusations. He knows he can't really burry it all.

So he made (threatened) the women he dated to be positive about him.

He wants to fly on your radar, spot on the middle, so bad.

So, with the invisibility power he got from the Gods, he always followed you. Even up to your home.

At first, his heart pounded like crazy. What if he suddenly appeared? Will you be freaked out? Surprised? Will you run away--

No, you can't run away.

Like you can, anyways.

He knew of your favorite food, fashion sense, hell, your taste in men...

He slowly changed himself into the man of your dreams.

Like a persona he integrated into himself, this sudden change shocked the people. But, they welcomed this change.

"Is he in love, that's why he's changing?"

More than that.

He's making himself into the perfect boyfriend for you.

Now, all he needs is you!

"Here's your coffee, sir!" You greeted with a sweet smile that he swore he had to grab his soul from leaving his body. "Enjoy!"

He gently grabbed the coffee and as usual, gave you 200$.

"sir..." You grimaced.

"Please, just accept it." He smiles. "You've always been a pleasant person to talk to, y/n. So, just see it as a generous tip. That I frequently give."

You looked down at the bill and smiled. Warmness spreads through your chest.

"thank you s--"

You looked up, and froze from the look he's giving you.

Deep, crazed...

Obsessed.

You shivered in fear.

Sensing your eyes on him, he coughed loudly, averting his eyes before returning to the man you knew.

Or did you actually know him?

You don't even know anymore.

But hey, he gives huge tips.

"Thanks again for the coffee." Amor smiles, trying to sweep what happened under the rug as he waved at you.

He went to his usual table. Somewhere secluded, yet has a clear view of you surrounded by flowers.

He observes you. Plans on what to do next.

He knew he can't just waltz in and whisk you away. That's barbaric.

But he's not opposed to the idea though...

He smirks.

He can probably pull tons of strings for you to end up in his arms.

He loves you, don't mistake that.

But, a little bit of... Force would be good.

He's an impatient man.

Also, did he mention that he's a selfish asshole?

How about, making your life so miserable. Getting you kicked out of this cafe, your family suddenly getting a huge debt...

Something he knows you can't pay immediately.

And his family would coincidentally sponsor you by giving you a condition of marrying him!

Anything to be with you, really.

Or, just steal another arrow and hit it with you. That's also plausible.

But, the goddess is pissed with him. So that's the last resort.

He sips his coffee and crosses his long legs.

He's favored by the Gods anyways.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you interacted too amicably with your coworker. An obvious blush on the coworker's face as he got too touchy with you.

No, everyone in the cafe is enamoured with you. Your beauty too good for this world.

He gripped the handle of his cup.

But first, let's get rid of potential rivals, yes?

You are only his.

What is there to fear? He has the resources in his hands to make you his.

You didn't know yet, but your fate is already sealed, tied, and shackled to him.

You don't really have a choice.

[cupidcures]

When Tulips Kiss | Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

CHAPTERS: 𝜗𝜚 5teen | 6teen | 𝜗𝜚 7teen

WORD COUNT: 5.6k (not proofread)

wish you were sober

It was the night of 3RACHA’s album release album, and you were standing in front of Jisung’s house with your arm linked to Jeongin’s and Seungmin’s, you being in the middle. It’s been a hot minute since you last went to a party like this, so you were a bit overwhelmed. Actually, you’ve noticed that you were always at least a little overwhelmed when it came to being surrounded by a crowd of people you weren’t familiar with, but it was something you needed to suck up in order to have that full “college experience.”

The last time you were at a party like this, you ended up in somebody’s bed that you didn’t know. Scary. You didn’t even bother saying bye to him when you left in the morning, hell, you don’t even remember his name.

Parties, drinking, sex, and emotions. That sounds about right!

“Hey Y/N! So glad you could make it!” You heard a voice calling out to you, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. When did we get inside? Well whatever, we’re here now, might as well have fun.

“Hey, Chan! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” You smiled and unhooked your arms from your friends’, leaning into Chan and giving him a shoulder hug, as he returned it.

“Jisung and Changbin are in the kitchen making drinks. Those idiots are making all sorts of concoctions, so be careful with the amount you drink.” He chuckles before walking away to greet more people coming in.

“Are you drinking tonight?” Seungmin asked you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you leaned on his. Jeongin was long gone, you assumed he went to some of his other friends, or maybe went to the kitchen to drink already.

“Yeah, gotta get shit out my mind you know? Why don’t you drink too?” You nudged his side as he groaned in feigned annoyance.

“Me? Drink? Nah. At least not when everybody else is, somebody in the group has to look after everyone, and it’s me.” Seungmin shrugged as you pouted and dragged him along to the kitchen.

“I could stay sober this time so you could have fun! Let loose a bit!”

“It’s okay Y/Nnie, I appreciate it but I’d rather stay sober, to be honest. I like to have full control of myself and full awareness. So drink to your heart’s desire. I enjoy taking care of you guys anyway, as much as I hate to admit it.” Seungmin ruffled your hair as you whined, gaining a laugh out of him.

“Okay okay okay, you’re seriously the best Minnie. I hope you know we all love you so much.”

“Yuck, stop with all the sappy stuff.” He rolled his eyes but failed to hide the soft smile on his face.

“Yoooo Seungmin! Y/Nnie! If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to take my wife away from me!” A voice, who you know as Jisung’s hollered out as you both looked in his direction before walking to him.

“You should keep a better eye on your wife then.” Seungmin joked before nuzzling his nose to your cheek as Jisung gasped dramatically, letting out a joyous laugh right after. He took a red solo cup from the counter before filling it up with the… “concoction,” as Chan described it, and handing it to you.

“Taste it,” Jisung smirked as you and Seungmin looked at each other with an uncertain look on your faces.

“Umm... Minnie!! A little sip won’t hurt. Why don’t you try it first?” You held the cup to Seungmin’s face before he fake barfed to the side. “Hell no.”

“Hey! I’m serious, it’s good!” Jisung crossed his arms in an attitude, looking to the side. Then, as quickly as he turned his head to the side, he turned back to look at you with pleading eyes. “Please taste it! It’s not poison I swear.”

“Okay okay okay I’ll taste it.” You laughed as he cheered and waited in anticipation as you took a sip. You widen your eyes in surprise before nodding at Jisung with an impressed smile.

“It’s good! What did you put in it?”

“I have no idea! Thank you for being my guinea pig wifeyyyyy~~~” Jisung grinned before running away as you took a sniff at the drink, trying to figure out what was inside of it. After a few minutes of thinking, you gave up on trying to figure it out and ended up chugging it all in one go. You squeezed your eyes shut and shuddered as the alcohol left its sensation down your throat, opening your eyes a few seconds later only to see Seungmin looking at you in worry.

“Woah. You took that like a champ. Are you doing fine? Do you always drink like this? I’m surprised you trust Jisung’s drink that much. Man doesn’t even remember what he put in it.” He rambled as you giggled and nodded your head to his questions.

“It’s actually pretty good! I like the ratio of alcohol to juice, it tastes better instead of just tasting like straight liquor you know? Not sure what that guy put in the drink, but it’s good.” You went to get more, but Seungmin grabbed the cup out of your hands and poured you more himself, proceeding to take a sip out of it. You waited to see his reaction as he took another sip and nodded in approval.

“You’re right. Too bad he doesn’t remember what’s in it, maybe I would drink more often if it always tasted this good.” Seungmin complimented, giving the cup back to you as you downed it all, once again.

“Damn, no hesitation.” He chuckled as you smiled shyly, the buzzing feeling slowly creeping up on you. Your cheeks started heating up rapidly, catching Seungmin’s attention.

“Are you okay? Do you need a seat?” He asked with concern laced in his voice as you shook your head.

“I’m just getting started, baby!” You booped his nose before pouring yourself another cup as he stifles a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” You pouted as Seungmin raised both his arms up in innocence.

“Nothing! Let’s get you to sit on the couch though, just in case. You don’t drink like this often.” Seungmin wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady as you clung onto his shirt, letting him lead you wherever.

He was right, you don’t usually drink like this, let alone this fast. If you were being honest, you couldn’t forget about what you and Hyunjin talked about in the bathroom. You’ve kept it inside and haven’t talked about it with anyone, and it was getting to you.

But tonight, you intended to get fucking wasted. Why talk about it when you have alcohol?

Seungmin ushered the people shoving their tongues down each other’s throats off the sofa, gaining a nasty look from them, but he couldn’t give a fuck. He sat you down on the sofa and proceeded to take his jacket off to cover your thighs before sitting himself down next to you.

“What are we?” You asked jokingly as Seungmin rolled his eyes. Man, he sure does that a lot. You chugged your drink for the third time that night, and most certainly not the last. You felt the room spinning around you, your vision getting blurry.

Aaaaaand you’ve done it. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank so much in such a short amount of time.

“Want me to refill it?” Seungmin chuckled as you stopped to think about it. You should probably stop, but you weren’t drunk enough, so you nodded your head with a soft smile.

“Thanks.” He nodded back at you before taking the cup out of your hands and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you guys always that cuddly? Am I blind to have never noticed it before?” A female voice talked to you as you turned to see who it was.

“Chuu! When did you get here? A few minutes ago?” You guessed as she nodded. Your eyes drifted from her face to her hand, which was connected to another person’s hand. Oh?

“Oh, who’s this?” You asked politely, referring to the slightly taller woman that Chuu was holding hands with, noticing how both their faces turned bright red. Ohhhhh.

“Y/N, meet Sooyoung! My girlfriend!” Chuu beamed as the girl next to her, Sooyoung, smiled and stuck her hand out as you shook it.

“It’s so nice to meet you! Take good care of her, she can get a bit crazy sometimes.” The three of you laughed together before it died down.

“We’re gonna get going now Y/N! Stay safe!” Chuu walked away hand in hand with her girlfriend, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

Where was Seungmin?

As if on cue, his hand landed on top of your head as he handed you the cup.

“Y/N, I know this is so sudden but something came up, and I’ve got to go. Can you take care of yourself??” You sensed the panic in his voice as you stood up to hug him.

“Yeah don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine just go! Let me know what’s going on tomorrow.” You reassured as he hugged you back and thanked you. He pulled away and pinched your cheeks, as he always does to say goodbye instead of waving, and left the party, but not before telling you to keep his jacket with you just in case you get cold. Seungmin was always looking after you, and it was times like that when you would think about the future, and how lucky his future girlfriend would be. He never hesitates to take care of you, even if you guys are arguing, and it has always been like this since you were kids. Now you were really alone. You decided to take little sips of your drink this time since you were already far gone enough, you had misjudged it when Seungmin asked if you wanted more earlier.

You observe your surroundings and all the people around you, watching how everyone is in their own world despite being in a room full of people. You enjoyed people-watching, it was always nice to see how people act differently and so uniquely. You watched the couples in the room, unwillingly of course because who would want to watch PDA? And you couldn’t help but think about how it was when you were in a relationship, and you found yourself missing it. Your brain automatically thought of Hyunjin but you quickly shut that thought down.

Why are you thinking of him? You drank the remaining drink in your cup before setting it down on the coffee table, leaning back down onto the sofa, and letting yourself sink in. You spotted Jeongin chatting with Felix and Minho, then Jisung with Chan and Changbin. Looking a bit more to your left, you found that Chaewon finally made it to the party! Though, she came with another friend of hers, Sakura? If you remembered correctly. Maybe it was the alcohol making you feel this way, but you felt lonely. Lonelier than usual. The air in the room was starting to feel stuffier and stuffier, so you went upstairs to where you knew Jisung’s balcony was and went outside to take a breath of fresh air. All the stars were sparkling and it felt like they were all closer, but maybe it was all the drinks playing tricks on your eyes. You were even able to see the planet of love, Venus, so you thought that was cool.

You don’t know how much time passed since you’ve been standing out here on Jisung’s balcony, but it was long enough for someone to notice and approach you.

“Y/N.”

Oh. That voice. You were almost completely certain that it was— “Hwang.” You mumbled without needing to turn back to see who it was as you heard their footsteps approach you and stood by your side, staring at the night sky as well.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Hyunjin spoke softly before turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah, I agree. It’s so alluring, don’t you think?” You look back at him as the both of you lock eyes, and suddenly it feels like nothing else exists besides the two of you. Hyunjin takes this time to take in your features, something he wasn’t able to do for the past four years. A privilege, if you will. Your perfectly blushed red cheeks, and the shape of your nose. Your adorable eyes and the lips he loved kissing so much, it was all coming back to him. You had grown up so beautifully, there was no denying that. You have always been a beautiful woman, but it’s different now, and he doesn’t know how to explain it.

“Yeah, it really is alluring.” He murmurs, all his attention directed towards you. You smile up at him and he can feel his heart stop.

“What are you staring at?” You giggle quietly and look away, a bit flustered that he was staring for so long. But he couldn’t help it, who wouldn’t stare at you?

It was this night that gave him the feeling deep down inside that no matter how many years passed that you guys were apart, it will always be you. It has always been you. Will he ever admit it out loud? Hell no. At least, not right now…? He hates the fact that it’s still you that he wants to spend the rest of his life with, even after you had hurt him so fucking much in high school. His heart and his mind were always conflicting with each other, and his mind would win every single time. Hyunjin shrugged the feeling off, excusing his racing heartbeat and blaming it on how much he hated you. He didn’t care if it didn’t make sense, just as long as he was believing anything BUT the fact he was still in love. He told himself that he couldn’t be in love with you and that he SHOULDN’T. It was silly to get back together with someone who hurt you, but the confused and lost look on your face every single time he brought up the past messed with him. He wasn’t able to tell if you were playing dumb or not, but he chose to protect his heart and not give in to temptations, convincing himself that you were just playing dumb.

“So what brings you out here?” You asked the boy next to you, catching him off guard that you would still continue a conversation with him.

“Oh uh. I’m not sure. I just felt like wanting to get away from everyone else for a while. You?”

“Same.” You nodded, and the both of you stood in comfortable silence.

Well, you assumed it to be comfortable silence. But for you? Oh no. Oh no no no, your mind was flooded with thoughts going hundreds of miles per hour. You couldn’t think straight and your heart was pumping, you felt like it was loud enough for even Hyunjin to hear. You and Hyunjin were actually talking face-to-face with no tension between you guys, and all it did was take you back to when you were happy together.

“Do… do you wanna get out of here?” Hyunjin asked in a shy manner as you looked back at him and pondered before responding.

“Hm… sure. Why not? Lead the way, Hwang.” You accepted the offer as he smiled his oh-so-cute smile at you before gently taking your hand and leading you out the front door, to his car.

Hyunjin opened the passenger door for you and buckled you in before getting in the driver's seat to drive off to someplace quiet.

He’s only inviting you to go somewhere else because he didn’t want to be at the party anymore, and you were already with him so he might as well bring you along. Not because he felt the need to look after you while you were drunk and didn’t want to leave you alone or anything… nothing like that!

The two of you were silent the entire car ride, the only sounds in the car were the static coming from the radio and the hum of the car engine. It was peaceful though, and you enjoyed it. You felt like you could float away from how light you felt, the glow of the streetlights was a blur, as for everything else around you.

It didn’t take long, probably around 15 minutes, until the car finally came to a halt. Hyunjin turned the engine off and looked at you, checking how you were feeling.

“You feeling okay?” He asked as you turned your head to him and nodded. He gave you a small, subtle smile in response before getting out of the car and quickly going over to your side to open the door for you as you giggled at his actions.

“So what is this place?” You hummed, stepping out of the car and spinning around to look at your surroundings. Unfortunately, that didn’t help, as your vision was still impaired at the moment.

“I go here a lot whenever I need to clear my thoughts. Or when I just want to be alone.” Hyunjin muttered before placing his hand at the center of your back and holding your hand with the other, leading you to the bench and sitting you down.

“You could see the city lights from here, it’s a beautiful thing. Plus, the stars are brighter out here, so that’s nice.” He expressed and sat down beside you. He turned his head to look at you and admire your side profile, his breath hitching.

“You look….. decent,” Hyunjin mumbled as you looked at him as well, a darker shade of blush creeping on your cheeks, on top of the blood that rushed to your face due to the alcohol, and he chuckled at the look of it.

“Why’d you bring me out here?” You questioned and fiddled with your fingers, staring into the glint of his eyes, to his plump lips, then back to his eyes.

That action didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, and he could feel his face quickly heat up before clearing his throat. “I uh, just thought you might want to see it. Also, we’re friends by force.” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at his last statement, and he laughed along with you. You felt so relaxed around him. Perhaps it was the alcohol? Contrary to feeling relaxed, it also felt like your heart could pump out of your chest. You don’t know what came over you, but you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, where your heart is of course.

Hyunjin looked away, flustered at your actions. Why would you put his hand on your chest? Are you testing him?

“Can you feel my heartbeat?”

Oh. Duh.

“Yeah, I can.” He spoke in an embarrassed tone, mentally scolding himself for thinking of something different. Out of all the things that Hyunjin was in denial of, one thing that he couldn’t deny was his physical attraction to you. You were the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on, and you still were. He hopes that you think the same way about yourself.

“Why do you hate me so much?” You slurred your words out before your head fell limp on his shoulder. Hyunjin stayed quiet for a while before finally answering, “You hurt me.” He rests his head on top of yours.

“How?”

“You already know.”

And it comes to a complete circle, once again. You sighed in frustration, you weren’t sure how to ever get his side out of him. No matter how much you asked, he wouldn’t tell you how you hurt him and it frustrated you.

“I don’t. I don’t know what I did to hurt you. But I’m still sorry nonetheless.”

Hyunjin hums in response but doesn’t answer to your apology in words.

The two of you cuddled under the starry sky, surrounded by the chilly night air. Friends do this kind of stuff, this is normal! You've cuddled with Seungmin, Chaewon, Jeongin, Chuu, and Jisung. But? Why does it feel so different now?

“Hyunjin?”

“Wow, you called me by my name for once.” He chuckled and held your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked under your breath, but you were certain that he heard you with the way he stiffened.

“Wha… what?” Hyunjin stuttered as you lifted your head and leaned in dangerously close. He felt your warm breath hit his face, and he could feel himself leaning in towards you as well, until he noticed it. The scent of alcohol in your breath.

Fuck. Hyunjin totally forgot you were drunk, and he cursed at himself for nearly kissing you. He stood up and ruffled his hair back, not looking back at you. “We should get going.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he rejected your advances, but you shrugged off the heavy, aching feeling in your chest and followed him as he walked towards the car. Even after all the built-up tension that you created between the two of you, he still opened the car door and buckled you in before tending to himself. You were well aware of how he was constantly sleeping around, as he’s very well-known and popular around campus. It only made you wonder if he treated every single girl he was with like this. You would be lying if you said that he wasn’t a gentleman, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he DID treat every girl like this, but little did you know that you couldn’t be any more further from the truth.

As Hyunjin started the car and began driving, you picked up your phone to check if any of your friends had texted you, and to no one’s surprise, they did.

“Hey, Hyunjin?” You called for his attention as he nodded and hummed to indicate that he was listening. “Can I… stay over tonight? My friend is bringing her girlfriend over and she asked if I could sleep somewhere else for tonight.” You asked coyly as he paused for a while, before nodding once more. “Yeah, you can stay over.”

You muttered a thank you and looked out the window, admiring the scenery. Before you knew it, you were knocked out and snoring softly.

When the sounds of your quiet snores reached Hyunjin, he looked over for a second to sneak a peek to confirm his suspicions, and he was correct. You did fall asleep, and you were sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. The passenger seat of HIS car. He chuckled silently and continued on driving, unable to wipe the fond smile on his face.

When Hyunjin finally pulled up to the house he shared with 5 other people. He got out of the car and went to the side that you were on, unbuckled you, and gently lifted you up in his arms, making sure he didn’t wake you up. Closing the car doors and locking it, he brought you inside as silently as he could so as to not attract any attention. After all, what kind of reaction would his friends have to see him carry the person he hates into his bed and tuck her in? They would probably accuse him of being in love. Yeah right.

When he finally brought you to his room and closed the door successfully without anybody noticing, he delicately placed you on his bed like you were a fragile porcelain doll, before heading to the bathroom to wet a cloth and making his way back to you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he made sure to wipe your makeup off as gently as he could, and when he was finished, he threw the damp cloth in his laundry basket and untied your braids to let it all fall back in place.

Hyunjin stayed next to you for a while, admiring your natural beauty and your sleeping state, you looked so serene and peaceful. This was the first time in years when you didn’t look at him with annoyance in your eyes, and he was grateful. Your beauty never failed to fascinate him and leave him in awe, and he could slowly feel the cold exterior he has constantly shown you, melting away. You made him feel sick. So sick. He was usually so sure of himself when it came to what he wanted, but for you, it was different. He didn’t understand why his heart yearned for you, but it did. Your messy hair, your long eyelashes, and your slightly parted lips as you slept pulled him in even more, and he hated it. He hated the way you made him feel despite everything he did to try and move on from you. He hated how despite the amount of years that had passed, you still had him wrapped around your finger. He hated everything that you made him feel, and yet he’s here taking care of drunken you. He gave in so fast, and it’s pathetic.

Hyunjin lets out a sigh before getting up to grab you a shirt to change you into. Taking a deep breath in, he squeezed his eyes shut before undressing you carefully and so very tender. After successfully doing so, he pulled a fresh shirt over your head and shoulders as it covered all of you. He opened his eyes once he knew you were completely covered, proceeding to tuck you into his blankets and pulling a chair from his desk to the side you were on. He stopped to stare at you once more before hesitantly planting a careful kiss on your forehead as if he were scared to break you.

“I wish you were sober,” Hyunjin muttered quietly before sitting down on the chair to take your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, laying his head on top of your stomach.

“Friends do this kind of stuff. It’s fine..” He fluttered his eyes closed and eventually drifted off to sleep.

~

Sometime later, Jeongin wakes up in the middle of the night with a groan. His head was fucking killing him from all the drinking so he did the first thing that came to his mind, which was to go into someone’s room for hangover pills. The most sensible thing for him to do was go to the person who got drunk the most, and so he did. Exiting his bedroom and knocking on the door softly just in case he was sleeping.

“Hyunjin? Do you have any hangover pills?” Jeongin asked but was met with silence, and so he slowly opened his bedroom room, only to be greeted with a not so surprising surprise. Hyunjin was sleeping on a chair pulled up beside you with his head on your stomach, his hand holding yours, and your other hand entangled in his hair.

Jeongin slowly creeped out and shut the door while giggling and rolling his eyes. “I fucking knew it would happen.”

~

When you finally opened your eyes, you were met with a pounding headache and a throat dry as a desert. You could barely open your eyes when you sat up and looked around the room, but it didn’t look familiar to you, at all.

Oh right… You asked Hyunjin if you could stay over.

You rolled over and hid your face in his pillow, before rolling again for the last time and staring up at the ceiling. You didn’t remember much before asking him if you could stay, besides the fact that Hyunjin took you to an overview of the city, but that’s pretty much it. You were lightheaded and the consequences of drinking… whatever Jisung made… finally caught up to you.

At least you didn’t throw up last night, that would have been embarrassing. Where is Hyunjin anyway?

And as if on cue, the bathroom that connected to his bedroom opened up as steam poured out from being trapped in there. “Oh, you’re awake. I put a glass of water beside you and some hangover pills, you must be dying right now.” Hyunjin spoke casually as he stepped out of the bathroom, revealing his exposed torso with a towel covering his bottom half. Before you could even register that you were staring, practically drooling, he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Are you just… going to keep staring or are you gonna turn around so I could put some clothes on?” Hyunjin chuckled and you squealed and turned around, apologizing for staring. You took this time to take the pills with the water he gave you as you finished all the water in one go, probably what you should’ve done last night instead of alcohol.

“I’m finished, you can turn back around. Are you hungry? I could make you something real quick and bring it to you here, since, well, nobody knows that you’re here with me. The pills will probably upset your stomach if you don’t eat.” He informed as you agreed.

“Yes please.”

“Do you want anything specific?”

“Nothing, I’m fine with anything you give me.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back then. Stay right here.” Hyunjin leaves the room soon after that and so you’re left alone. You notice that he plugged in your phone for you, and you mentally thanked him for doing so before getting on it. You were scrolling on your phone for a while, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter, you name it, and you eventually got bored so you got up to explore the room. Honestly, you probably shouldn’t have done that considering the two of you weren’t close anymore, but that didn’t come to your mind. You admired the decor on the wall, as it was covered with portraits that you could only assume were painted by him. Hyunjin has always been into art and painting even while you guys were together. Instead of buying actual flowers and bouquets since you already have a lot, he would paint you all different kinds of bouquets instead. Hyunjin was truly one of a kind, and you smile fondly at the memories of when you were together.

“Y/Nnie~~” A voice from behind startled you as you turned around, only to find NOT Hyunjin, but Jeongin.

“Oh… hahaaaa… hi Innie…!” You laughed nervously and twiddled your thumbs as he laughed and hugged you, rocking you side to side.

“Did you guys sleep together?” Jeongin smirked slyly as you hit his shoulder in embarrassment, the poor boy yelping at the impact.

“No, we didn’t. I took care of her because all her FRIENDS,” Hyunjin appeared from behind him, pausing to give Jeongin a glare before continuing, “Left her all alone while she was drunk. I may hate Y/N but I’m not a monster. Do you know how dangerous it is to leave a drunk girl alone at a party?? I took her out to get some fresh air and took her here. I would never sleep with a girl if she’s not fully sober and if she doesn’t have the full capability to fully consent to it.” Hyunjin scolded Jeongin as he hugged you tighter, causing you to lose your breath.

“Can’t… breathe…”

“I’M SO SORRYYYY. I thought Seungmin was gonna stay with you!!!” Jeongin cried and hid his face in your neck as you looked at Hyunjin while giggling. “Look what you did!”

“He needs to know! That’s stupid and not everybody is as kind and wonderful as me.” Hyunjin praised himself with a smug look as you rolled his eyes. Jeongin pulled away before patting your head.

“Okay… I’m gonna leave so you two could be alone.” Jeongin winked and left the two of you laughing together.

“He’s so unserious.” You giggled more as Hyunjin laughed, nodding in agreement before passing you your food with a lap desk so you could eat properly.

“Now get back in bed so you can eat, and take a shower. You reek of alcohol, you’re lucky I let you sleep in my bed.” Hyunjin scoffed, going back to his “hateful” facade.

“Where did you sleep?” You questioned while bringing a spoonful of rice to your mouth and chewing.

“Beside you. Same bed. You were cuddled up next to me.”

You nearly spat out your food as Hyunjin fell to the floor laughing. Still just as dramatic as he was in high school.

“I’m kidding!! You should’ve seen the look on your face! I slept on the chair right there.” Hyunjin pointed at the chair that was pushed into the desk as you gave him a concerned look.

“What the fuck? That’s so uncomfortable, I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as you. I’d prefer that than stealing your bed from you.” You sigh, feeling bad that he most likely had the worst sleep of his life on that chair, not noticing the faint blush that decorated his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“Yeah well, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He mumbled before sitting down at the end of the bed. “Now hurry up so I can drop you off back at your dorm.. your friend must be worried that you’re not home yet, it’s already 3pm.”

You nodded at shared a smile with the boy in front of you.

Maybe being together isn’t so bad after all.

a/n: i finished this quicker than i thought i would lol! i hope you guys liked the fluff! don’t get too comfortable tho

𝜗𝜚 WTK series masterlist

TAGLIST (OPEN)! @jeonginplsholdmyhand @jeonginsgirl @mlrroh @mafiulaputaama @seungzsmin @hannie-bees @skz1lov @porang-poranglinos @sillyhal @mitchii @nessas-archive @soulphoenix1618 @gnab-nahc @yongbokkiesworld @hyunjins-dimples @nappynapnaps @0914-space @isagerada @15092000volcano @livixcore @linocvp1d @yaorzu-blog @scallywag1299 @elqivxstxr @boo-ven9eance @lys4lix @kirbrary

if your blog is underlined, it means i wasn’t able to tag you :’(

[abbyshands]

🇵🇸 LINKS | before engaging !!! | click before you fic ♡ | m. list | join my tag list!

do me a favour by am makes me think about loser!abby, smoker, drank alcohol, shitty grades, who you were irrevocably enamored by. you were popular, a pretty girl, but smart, witty, kind, fun. you could usually find abby buried in an alleyway of your college, cigarette perched in her lips. playing it off like she didn’t have a care in the goddamn world. and usually? she didn’t. but there was a loophole, always was: and it was you. she fell for you by accident when you were paired for a project in one of your classes. she figured she would hate you: you were a part of a group of people who bullied her senseless on a daily basis. you weren’t proud of it, but you had to admit it: your friend group of popular, rich girls could be pretty goddamn snobby. but when you and abby’s first meet ended in a makeout session, she knew it wasn’t going to be what she had envisioned. but there was one more issue: her. abby anderson didn’t get fucking feelings for people. the only thing she’d shown love to in this world up to this point was a bottle of bourbon. the only closeness she had when it came to a human aside from her, was the drug shop clerk who sold her cigarettes once every few weeks. abby loser anderson, falling for a pretty girl? what a fucking joke. she capped it when she began to feel it: her feelings beginning to spill out of her, too much, too soon. and maybe she should keep them bottled up forever. she was feeling this thing for you, this utterly repulsive emotion she couldn’t get a grasp on. and all her life, she had heard a word, a word hurled around like it was candy. and it began with an “l,” didn’t take a genius to know it, but, god, it just couldn’t be that. so abby breaks it off. you say whatever, despite your hurt feelings. and you move on. sometimes, she wished you had been the one to end it. then, she wouldn’t feel so fucking guilty. guilt. guilt. guilt. she had fucked up. done it, lost you, and how could she? she’s back at your door weeks later. a girl who isn’t you answers it, and she knows she’s fucked up now. done it, lost you, she had done it. and she wasn’t sure if she could undo it. you come up behind the girl who’s lips had just been on yours, ushering her out of the way, and you cross your arms as you look at abby. her eyes have bags. she looks like she hasn’t been to sleep in weeks. and her face is solemn. you frown. she indulges, gives into the feelings she’s been bottling up for eons. and she spills it, voices all you had needed to hear from her … three weeks ago. that she loved you, that she needed you. you tell her, honest, fuck off. because if she really loved you? she would have come to her senses a long time ago. you had forgotten. you were moving on. and by now, all things considered? perhaps fuck off might be too kind.

adding in this lyric as well: “curiosity becomes a heavy load, too heavy to hold, too heavy to hold,” abby didn’t know shit about what it meant to love somebody else: to give your heart to them, and only them, in full. she didn’t understand this desire to go on dates, you by her side. or to hear your voice, your laugh, see you smile, be the one to make you smile. she didn’t understand what she was feeling for you. someone so perfect, someone too good for her. and so, when she could’ve just made a point to understand her feelings, she shut down instead. and at what cost? she wanted to make an effort, but now, it was too late. you were too far gone for apologies, meaningless words. it’s always been said that curiosity killed the cat. and abby anderson, was the embodiment.

a/n; wanna make this into an ongoing series so if any songs cross your pretty minds in regards to that ,, please let me know ♡

divider creds !

[tarotofhope]

PAC: 「Which Aspect of your life should you put more energy into」

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

*TRIGGER WARNING* Many strong trigger messages are there in Pile 2 and 5. It's almost calling out toxic habits/people because some people are focusing their energy on negative things. It's mostly talking about shadow aspects. That energy could be yours or someone you're currently closely dealing with.

It was very hard to write both these piles for me but I couldn't skip those because it was important to mention them.

Please don't take any offense, if you think you don't relate to those piles or if you feel uncomfortable reading them, you're free to choose another pile. Don't let a reading ruin your day and don't take it to your heart.

Pile 1

Wheel Of Fortune, The Fool, Ten Of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. You guys went through a lot of trouble because of your family patterns and beliefs/values or your ancestral trauma that has been carried down towards you by your family. There seems to be a lot of toxicity here. You don't like it and you're someone who doesn't want to carry it forward to your own offsprings as well which is such a righteous and courageous decision in itself. If you think you don't want to follow the same toxic pattern, you've already done half the work for your coming generations. That's very applaudable. The universe and your guides/angels will be so proud of you. This decision of yours itself is going to be a huge game changer which is why The Wheel Of Fortune appeared. It could be so that the elders of your family or your parents/guardian believe that, "We faced this trauma, this strictness from our parents so you're definitely going to have a taste of it. What's so wrong about it? It's normal." That's their toxic thinking which they inherited from the previous generations. One example I want to share here, which is very important. I was watching an asian stand-up comedy video on youtube where the guy(in his 40s) said to the young audience, "Your generation has become so sensitive that you cannot even handle beatings from your parents. You consider it as traumatic, toxic. You guys are so confused about your gender and sexual identity. Our generation suffered so much more than you but we never complained like you guys do. We never talked back to our parents/elders because we thought they can never be wrong. We accepted bad/toxic behaviour with ease and never argued back in defense and so we never complicated things for ourselves." But I believe, this kind of mindset of never speaking for yourself, never being curious to raise questions is always going to stunt your personal growth and development. If children are not questioning certain behaviours, parents must teach them to do so, that way parents can also win the trust of their children. Breaking toxic family patterns and creating a life full of freedom and hope for yourself and others should be your motto in life. You're not supposed to carry the same toxic family patterns towards your future generations. You should be the one who marks the end of it. If you feel the need to speak up, then speak up. I know we cannot change somebody's mindset but we can atleast teach the younger generations about what's toxic and what's not.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, hope and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻

Pile 2

Ace of Swords reversed, 7 of Swords, The Tower and The Sun Reversed.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You're someone very sharp and intelligent by birth. Like it's in your blood.

*Trigger Warning ahead. If you do not resonate, you're free to choose another pile, please don't take any offense. It could be you or it could be someone you're dealing with currently. Different people will relate differently.*

There's something bad that's happened to you because of which things took an ugly turn. You maybe started putting your energy into revenge or as a result of getting hurt, you're letting out all of your anger by using your abilities and gifts in negative ways. As I said you have a sharp mind, you might be using your intelligence in such kind of jobs where there's deception/gambling/fraud, in something that's not morally correct. You're not using your mind in doing something smart in a good way, which could bring more convenience to you and others. Whatever you're doing, you're very good at it but it does not seem morally correct. I'm not saying you're a bad person but you're letting out all the negative energies of what has happened to you on others. See, the way you think, the way you see it, matters a lot. If you think of revenge, then it will be so but rather think of fighting back, you can get back at people who cause great harm to you but are in denial or having no remorse whatsoever. Sometimes, other people can't do justice to you, if you are a survivor, you can do it for yourself because the victims who die in an assault/murder/attack etc don't get the chance to do justice for themselves. In this pile, I can also see a lot of jealousy and a habit of cursing people for doing the slightest mistakes which hurts you even a tiny bit. These could be the after-effects of a trauma. There's an advice to use your gifts and abilities for good things. You might be someone who themselves is very hurt and troubled but you might be doing the same thing to others. After The Tower moment that happened(means when you were probably deceived/betrayed or hurt), you might have started believing in the idea that, "There's nothing such as right or wrong, it doesn't matter. I don't believe in karma. Karma needs to first get to the people who hurt me and I don't see them getting their karma, so it doesn't work, I guess" or you still know the difference between right and wrong but you've become so cold that you don't want to give a care about it. You're also someone who is very hard to impress. Some of you also believe in working smart than working hard. You need to know that by seeking revenge or getting things by wrong means is only going to look good temporarily, it's not going to help you in the long run. Very few of you could also be into black magic and use it to get things done your way. You could also be someone having a leadership position but you're using authoritative power in the wrong manner. Focus your energy into healing yourself and then let yourself out into the world. The world needs people like you but you're doing the opposite. Let your scars be your strength. Surrender your hurt, traumas and troubles to the universe.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🌻🌼

Pile 3

The Devil, Ace Of Swords, 5 Of Cups and 5 of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. It seems like you guys are not treated fairly at work. You're in a constant fight to survive. You might also be currently in an argument with a superior/parent/guardian/authority figure. You're quite disppointed and tired of your current job situation. Either you're doing this work out of an indirect/unspoken pressure from home, because you want to put food on the table or you're working here because your family wants you to or because you just want money to fulfil some needs. This work is taking a lot of your time and the income is quite unsatisfactory. This could be a family business or a startup as well for some people but something about it looks forced, like you had no choice. Lots of 5s here in the cards, means it's something which brings you sorrow, dissatisfaction, regret, disappointment. Some of you have recently left a job due to the above mentioned reasons. For some of you, this could be an educational course that you're doing out of pressure while for some of you, this could be your own happily chosen field of work but currently you're struggling to keep up, either you are not in good health or people have too many expectations from you. If this is something where force/pressure is involved and you're not okay with it then you should somehow try to get out of this situation soon or if this is something which seems out of your control and you can't get out, you need to do something as a side hustle or any relaxation activity/extracurricular activity which you like for your own well-being, but that side-activity should be equally calming and strong enough to get all that stress out of you. You will need to do a bit of balancing, a bit multi-tasking(which is work + relaxation activity) in order to keep your mind calm, otherwise, it will take a huge toll on your health in the long run.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌻🌼🌸

Pile 4

Knight Of Pentacles, 2 Of Cups, Ace Of Pentacles, 2 Of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4.

Lot of 2s here, so there's a strong wish for companionship in this pile. You want stability in your work and personal life. You are looking forward to finally settle down. But before that, you need to focus on your career, independence and money. Work, earn, settle down your finances and then marry. You could be under the age-group of marriage or could have crossed that age limit according to societal beliefs and norms but believe me, the universe works in magical ways. It's never too late to do anything. You must first focus on yourself and your overall growth then only you could bring that level of prosperity in your married life as well. This applies to your partner as well. We all have some baggage due to bad experiences and traumas but if it is something that's constantly been like an itch you need to scratch, then you need to first get rid of that itch. You need to be healthy and fit because I'm also hearing some of you are not happy with your looks/weight or something that is related to your body or you have some chronic health issues which you're dying to get rid of. There's also some problems with finances going on, some serious family issues and you know on the inside that you're not currently at your best. So, you first need to stabilise your finances and health before you jump into any serious relationships or marriage. I'm not telling you to not fall in love neither am I asking you to hold back. I'm just telling you to be ready and prepared before taking such a major step in your personal life because then it would be a total mess and you'll carry major regrets and insecurities later on because of the things you didn't work on earlier. What needs to be done earlier should be done earlier for your own sake. Don't think that things will change magically after entering into a romantic relationship or marriage. You're hopeful and being dreamy but you're not ready. If you think you're mentally quite disturbed and unstable, not well health-wise, not independent enough, finances are not good then you shouldn't go looking for a partner just because everybody else is getting into a relationship/getting married. Work on yourself first, what's meant to be yours will be yours and only yours to take. Nobody will be able to snatch it away from you.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌼🌻🌸

Pile 5

King Of wands Reversed, Wheel Of Fortune Reversed, 9 Of Cups, Judgement.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5.

*Trigger Warning Ahead. The following messages contains many triggers. Don't take it to your heart. If you do not resonate, you're free to choose another pile but please don't take any offense as this reading could be about you or someone toxic you're dealing with*

You could be too much dependent on others or others' opinion of you. I can also see a lot of toxic femininity and masculinity, blaming on others for your defeats, losses and bad luck but you are not taking an initiative to see where the problem exactly lies. We all are not perfect but this pile specifically seems to call out toxic traits. You are someone very kind and generous and you like to help people but at the same time your intentions are mostly directed in your own favor. It's good to keep yourself first but you might be extremely focused only on your needs. You might not like to accept a 'no' from others. There could also be an ego issue because of which you don't like to apologise to others. You could be someone who has created a stable home for themselves or someone who doesn't have anything of their own(it is either your parents' or someone else's resources), but there's an ego issue and a lot of pride. Now, here there are 2 kinds of people, ones who are deeply connected with their family members or atleast one or two people in their life whereas the other ones are not bothered by relationships at all. You could be someone who love pets and/or children. You might even be a quick judge of character because you like to observe but you might not be always right. I'm also getting a lot of greediness from this pile. There is little to no focus on self-growth and inner healing here. You might also be someone who gets angry easily, always wants an upperhand in an argument. You like to do things yourself while for some of you, you don't give enough credit to people who help you. Again, similarly to Pile 2, you might have great leadership qualities but a habit of controlling everyone your way, imposing your way of doing things on others. You need to meditate, pause and take a look inside your mind, body and soul. That's where you'll find your answers. Start putting yourself in other people's shoes and try to see the world from a different point of view.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🌼🌻

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

[kim-the-miserable-rat]

I SAW A TIKTOK WHERE A GUY SAID THAT "LES MIS" WAS JUST A THREE HOUR MUSICAL OF THE FRENCH COMPLAINING

(and I mean, he's not entirely wrong.)

(JUST ACT 1 CAUSE I UNDERESTIMATED HOW LONG THIS WOULD TAKE ME)

So here's a list of what they complain about in each song:

LOOK DOWN: the prison system sucks

PROLOGUE: the life of an exconvict sucks

VALJEAN'S SOLILOQUY: this guy is too nice how dare he? And also the prison system still sucks.

AT THE END OF THE DAY: my workplace is full of cunts

I DREAMED A DREAM: men are the worst

LOVELY LADIES: selling my necklace, hair and becoming a prostitute to help my child is something that I have all the right to be mad about (she's completely right, Fantine you deserved sooooo much better queen)

FANTINE'S ARREST: (to the bourgeoisie asshole) stop dehumanizing me I will fight you (to javert) your justice is not fair (to Jean Valjean) It's kinda your fault that im in this situation tbh

THE RUNAWAY CART: (javert) YO HOMIE WTF ARE YOU HULK? [suspecting]or are you buff because of slavery?.....

WHO AM I?: Oh poo! Now I have to choose between lying (it will make god sad) or going back to jail (hundreds of people will lose their jobs and end up living in misery by my actions) Fuck them workers, im an honest man, lets save that one innocent man.

THE TRIAL: the justice system is flawed. Look at my sick ass tattoo in my chest. Ok nvm im going to se Fantine fuck you all.

FANTINE'S DEATH: I will never see my daughter again this is so unfair (it really is)

THE CONFRONTATION: (Jean Valjean) Javert could you FUCKING WAIT A SECOND! I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DO(Javert) Im going to drop all my lore in two lines that you will not get cause were all singing at the same time; and NO, you can't just go, WTF?

CASTLE ON A CLOUD: HELLO, CHILD SLAVERY???? SOMEBODY HELP THIS CHILD ASAP!!!

MASTER OF THE HOUSE: Madam Thenardier has a solo just to talk shit about his husband (and he deserves every bit of it)

THE BARGAIN: (Thenardiers) NO, OF COURSE YOU CAN'T TAKE OUR LITTLE TREASURE AWAY -unless you pay for her, that is-

PARIS (look down reprise): EVERYTHING IS AWFUL, WE HATE IT HERE!

THE ROBBERY: (Eponine) FUCK YOU MARIUS MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! (Javert) Ewwww... i hate criminals! and also poor people. Same thing to me, really.

STARS: I'm so obsessed with that fugitive that it's starting to blur into an homoerotic desire. Also HOW DARE HE to be free? I will hunt him for sport

EPONINE'S ERRAND: (Eponine) So now I have to help YOU, the boy im in love with to find a random girl? ALSO WTF DON'T GIVE ME MONEY YOU ASSHOLE.

ABC CAFE: (Enjolras) STOP WHINING MARIUS, NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR NON EXISTENT LOVE LIFE, WE ARE PLANNING A REVOLUTION HERE, YOU KNOW? Also please guys can we take this thing seriously? Please please please :(

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?: (the people, obviously) time to eat the rich or die trying!

RUE PLUMMET/IN MY LIFE: (Cosette) father, ur cool to be around and all that but.... Who the fuck are you? And why do we act like we are convicts running from the law (cause ur dad kinda is, sweetie)

A HEART FULL OF LOVE: (Eponine) It fucking sucks to have helped my crush find the girl he's in love with[who would have thought?] Guess I will look at them longingly from like five feet away while they confess their love for each other and purposefully ignore me.

THE ATTACK ON RUE PLUMMET: (Eponine) GODAMNIT they will think I'm one of those assholes I have to do something! Go away or I'll scream IM INSANE I WILL FUCKING DO IT. Also fuck you dad. (Babet) I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE LORE, GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY THENARDIER (Thenardier) Im surrounded by idiots! (Jean Valjean) TIME TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, FUCK EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO SEE MY DOWNFALL.

ONE DAY MORE: (Jean Valjean) Kinda sucks to have to run from the law [yeah homie we noticed that] (Marius & Cosette) OH NO! I'LL BE SEPARATED FROM THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THAT I MET A WEEK AGO. WHAT A GREAT TRAGEDY (Eponine) Marius still doesnt care about me. (Enjolras) He's not complaining, he's having the best time of his life. Good for him. Enjoy it while it lasts, citizen! (Javert) Guess I'll go as a spy with this cool new outfit. [Again, not a complain but important to notice]

OK, THIS DESCENDED INTO MADNESS.

EXPECT ACT 2 SOON :)