#only like SEVEN MONTHS LATER jesus

[wintersera]

"so are you ovulating?" || ningning x succubus!reader

notes: i actually wrote this fairly quick, but finding the right pics for the moodbaoard actually pissed me off erm.. but first of all FIRST NINGNING FIC WE CHEERED (a/n i forgot to say this was a part two of the succubus!reader thing soooo here’s the link!)

cw: tail sex (kinda), succubus!reader, top!ning, bottom!reader, mentions of a singular man

wc: 4k

after the ‘feeding on your unnie’ incident that had happened a few months ago, your performance was phenomenal. with all that energy you gained from that one night, plus some extra other nights following from then with jimin unnie, it was as if your every move, every note and every emotion was amplified by tenfold. you were on fire and the audience could feel your passion for performance burning brightly with every stage you did.

your mentors and managers commented on how energetic you had been for the past couple of months, how your performances were absolutely phenomenal, the knetz weren’t on your ass - which was surprising since almost half of them were all the time. the western fans said that you were, quote on quote,“serving cunt” in the recent solo weverse live you did… whatever that meant. even your own members were surprised at how active you were throughought day and night. 

but like everything in life, things weren’t bound to stay all too well.

a few days ago you tripped on stage, and to make matters worse, it was in front of your fans. the audience heard a small little thud and spotted you on the ground looking at the ceiling for a few seconds before you stood up embarrassingly. luckily this was the first take, you had other opportunities to do your very best with the smidge of energy you had left. 

knowing your fans, particularly your stans - either they’d make a meme out of you spacing out on the floor, or, they’d spam hashtags all over twitter saying “SM PROTECT YOUR ARTIST” or something around those lines.

not only did that happen, but whilst you were preparing to record your lines in the studio, that familiar pain you would get whenever you were starved from energy came back ten times worse; it felt like you were being pierced in the stomach.

jimin noticed your pained expression and squeezed your shoulder in reassurance as she entered the recording room, but it kind of translated wrong in your head, causing you to moan out loud into the mic in front of your directors - not to mention you could hear yourself through the headphones echo. jimin chuckled lightly “what’s up with you?” then left the room a moment afterwords.

fast forward to the present day. a mundane and repetitive one. you had a photoshoot early in morning and a small meeting sometime in the afternoon and then you were free to do whatever you wanted afterwards. you thought that maybe some vocal lessons later in the evening would distract you, but you were pretty sure your vocal teacher was out with his husband drinking today. good on him, it buys you more alone time, and alone time makes you think about what to do about your situation. 

on to more pressing matters, aka your raging desire for sex. 

it randomly hit you hard while walking back from the company to your local seven eleven. you thought to distract yourself with buying a sweet treat for everyone, but instead you began to feel dizzy “ouh.. this isn’t good” there wasn’t a bunch of groupies following you around the block to your own misfortune, and it was still bright outside.so what was there to do about that urge?

it’s not like you could message jimin unnie out of the blue and ask to fuck. where was the decorum? plus you’re in the middle of promotions, what if you drain too much energy that she’s unable to perform the next day.

and it also didn’t help that your internal monologue was fucking you up.

“shit, do i just ask the manager to… NO- ew what the hell am i thinking? he’s way older than me. nevermind. why did i think about that jesus christ.” 

your options were slim. it was either wait for night, go to the practice rooms and prey on a cute trainee, with consent of course - or go ask jimin unnie again and risk exhausting her even though you just started promotions… 

you wondered who was at home right now.

you recalled ning going straight back home as soon as the meeting had finished. you could always ask? i mean she is your unnie after all, it wouldn’t hurt to ask to her. 

ah, but it would be awkward though. it’s not like when jimin unnie walked in on you tweaking out and then you had to shamefully ask her to “help you out”. either way you had to go home and do something about it. being out in the open wouldn’t be good for you anyway. anymore stress and you could lose your mind, probably going out of your way to do something that would be highly illegal, and you wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

–

on the way home you couldn’t suppress your excitement. you had already made up your mind to ask ning if you could, you know, do something nasty. multiple scenes were made up in your head. she could bend you over the table, press you against the wall and limit your restrictions with her pretty hands, or maybe she could shove your head into the pillow and pound into your desperate pussy.

as opposed to jimin, you never caught ning wound up in her own thoughts, nor staring at you in a sexual manner. whether it was pracitce, a stage, any event with the members, or an upcoming show, you had never caught her once. maybe she did look at you while you were dancing promiscuously as a joke. even so, her expressions were so nonchalant that even if she was, you would never be able to tell… though that thought alone excited you even more. who knows what her pretty little head was thinking about.

although jimin said to tell the other members about who you actually were to prevent you from being too awkward to ask your members for help, you refrained from doing so because well… you’re just like that, what else. how were you gonna do it anyway- hold a meeting in your apartment around the dining table and say that you need sex to stay active and alive? then what, they’ll eagerly accept the fact that you literally need to be inside of them, or vice versa, so you can get up on stage and preform as if it was a regular ass day.

those five minutes you spent daydreaming and thinking about telling your members were stopped abruptly by the door in front of you. when did the walk home become so quick.

then you started to think once again. 

would ning be the type of person to go out of their way to help you? yes she’s that type of person, however, does that mean she would willingly want to have sex with you… god, you don’t know her ‘that’ well. you’re close, close as how close a lifetime friend could ever be, but still, things would be weird if she ultimately says no to your request.

“you’ve been staring at the door for an awfully long time y/n. are you coming inside or do you want to stare at the door a little longer?”

fresh out of the shower, yizhuo greets you with a friendly smile followed by a giggle. her towel sticking against her body showing off the curves of her hips. 

oh fuck, why does she have to be wearing that now. 

“did you just finish showering? also, girl… get back inside. what if someone sees you with just a towel on” the aroma of your shampoo wafted through the air “you smell good…” you all were tight on money this month, so you all shared things like perfumes, shampoos, pretty much all products you and the other members owned. each time either one of your members had applied your shampoo, god, you had such perverse thought about them, wanting to ravage them until they couldn’t walk or even stand

“yeah i ran out of mine- and yours was newly opened so you know�� she had been looking way too good recently, not saying that she never did look good, but there was something about her that made you feel extra desperate and needy. the wetness between your thighs spoke for themselves

“let’s go in. i need to talk to you quickly before my brain explodes” yizhuo cocked her head in confusion, reluctantly following your lead, closing the door behind her as you walked into your guys’ apartment. 

you followed behind her as she led you to your shared bedroom, looking up because you didn’t want to turn yourself on even more by staring at her ass “wow, the ceiling looked nice. a pretty beige colour… what the hell am i doing” you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh, looking back down and regretting it immediately. you noticed that yizhuo turned around as you locked eyes with the front of her cream coloured bath towel.

as perceptive as yizhuo was, she noticed a little black swish behind your back. she just played it off, too tired from all the practice, so she thought she was hallucinating a tail or something of the sorts.

now, being both the youngest and the least serious members of the group, you rarely ever had a heart to heart. to talk one to one with each other with the tone you had used, yizhuo must’ve thought that there was some topic you couldn’t bring up with the eldest “hey what’s up? it’s been a while since we last talked seriously” her damp hair against her soft looking skin, the fresh scent of soap and the way she looked at you with worry in her eyes. it almost drove you off the edge. she was so tantalising that you almost missed your cue to speak.

“uh- um, you know how we’ve been besties since i came to korea right?”

“yes”

“and you know we said that we’d always tell each other anything right?” you glanced around the room, avoiding her gaze while your fingers unconsciously played with the fabric of her bedsheets.

“yes…?” ning pondered for a while “…are you going to confess your undying love for me, is that what this is?” she cackled.

“WHAT? no, no- i think that might be less shocking than what i’m about to say” you take a deep breath in hopes to stifle the sound emitting from your booming heartbeat “okay so like, hypothetically speaking, would you have sex with any of the four of us?” for a god awful few seconds you sat tensely, waiting for yizhuo to say something. 

“are you trying to redirect my attention from a more important question girl?” her eyes rested on your face, heartily laughing until she released you were being totally serious. 

scratching your arm, you let out a sigh. it would be better to ask her directly wouldn’t it “you don’t need to analyse me like that. i was just saying-”

you could charm her into agreeing, but in the long run you’d feel like a horrible person. charming a person came with moral problems, and you strictly told yourself that you would never do that to a person. ever.  

“yizhuo… can we- can you do me a favour?” your stuttering caught her attention. you simply couldn’t bring yourself to ask, it’s strange out of the blue. 

“mhm mhm, what do you need”

“you”

“me?”

“yes.” with every fibre of your being you held back a variety of different ways to scream out ‘JUST FUCK ME’ biting your lip to help fight back a blush. it’s odd to blurt out ‘im a succubus. let’s have crazy passionate intimate gay sex right here right now’ 

hold on- does she even know you’re a succubus? “listen, it’s going to sound absurd and you probably think i’m not sober, but can you hear me out” it was still weird to outwardly say that you were in fact this demon thing that sucks people dry, literally. saying it to jimin was no easy feat, but you were obviously losing your damn mind that day. and then you have the other two members too? now was not the time to think about what you’d do in the near future, you were hungry and yizhuo was right in front of you, practically naked “are you, by any chance, okay with maybe” your gaze darted around the room before you locked eyes with her “maybe having… sex? maybe?”

“ohhh, okay i see how it is. you’re ovulating” she spoke with a dead serious tone.

you were losing your mind. you couldn’t tell if she was fucking with you or not. but in all honesty, yizhuo did think you looked like you were ovulating with the way your thighs pressed together. yup, ovulating.

your heart began to race as you increasingly became desperate within seconds. you felt feverish, hot to the touch while your head throbbed. almost a whole two months without tending to your needs ended up with you succumbing to the symptoms “please yizhuo. i need you to do something, anything- i feel like i’m gonna die actually” 

“woah woaah, let’s calm down. you’re not gonna die silly. is it just-“ yizhuo paused for a while, coughed and maybe even hesitated to say the word “sex. is that all? it can’t be too bad. plus if it’s with you, i don’t mind…” yizhuo’s words were genuine. it put your mind at ease. 

“you don’t understand though. it’s like… it- i don’t know” you pout at her with the remaining energy left in your body “it’s alright- i’ll ask other people, it’ll be okay” sluggishly pushing yourself off yizhuo’s bed.

“no no, i get it. you wanna relieve stress, i get it” from what you could understand, yizhuo was trying her absolute best, trying to relate with your problem “we’ve all been there. the company doesn’t allow us to go out and meet other idols like that so it was eventually gonna happen. i mea-“

“it’s not about that, yizhuo” your eyes darken, a desperate sigh emitting from your lips “ah, whatever…” with trembling hands, you held yizhuo’s in yours, momentarily silencing her as you sit back down on top of the smooth sheets of her bed “if you’re not okay with doing ‘this’, then will a kiss be okay?” there was a hint of softness to your voice, the rest shrouded with seriousness “it won’t be enough for me, but it’ll keep me… sort of stable” you shut your eyes as you press your forehead against hers, sharing the warmth “please, that’s all i ask for” 

she whispered “a kiss? i can do that. it seems fun.”ning, inches away from kissing you, smiled sheepishly. her gaze drifted briefly towards your lips before finally shutting her eyes  “and if it’s with you i think i’ll be okay”  

you took this as your opportunity to kiss her softly on the lips. a quick peck really. a surge of energy coursed through your veins for half a second before coming to a stop.

that’s all the energy you’ll take from her, and the most you’ll take for the next couple of days “mmm… thank you yizhuo” though it was a sweet couple of seconds before it broke off, the sweetness of her lips left a longing impression on you.

yizhuo asked for “one more kiss?” growing in confidence, she leaned into another, her eyes fluttering shut as she melted into your embrace. though you were unsure, you gave into the moment, savouring her delicate lips. her fingers tentatively reached for your shirt, grabbing you and pulling you in closer. as the kiss intensified, yizhuo’s hands journeyed down your back, directly pushing down so your chests were pressed together “do whatever you want…” her breath hitched as you trailed down kisses from her jaw down to her neck, taking the time and effort to not accidentally leave a huge hickey there. you replied by pushing her back onto the bed, the loose towel that wrapped around body fell apart easily, exposing yizhuo’s pretty tits. she paid no mind, letting you do whatever you pleased. 

“god, you’re so pretty” you climbed onto the bed, straddling yizhuo’s waist as you carefully removed your t-shirt. 

she burned holes through your face, why was she staring so hard all of a sudden? “how are your eyes are pink, y/n” taken aback, she sits up and examines your face. she raised her hand and waved it in front of you “is this thing real?” tilting her head in confusion. 

“it is real- mmh?” a jolt shoots right up through your spine and then down to your core out of nowhere. ning held your sleek black tail, rubbing her fingers against the weird leathery texture, caressing and prodding at your poor flimsy, slightly erect(?) tail, as you let out a soft sigh. “yizhuo…” you mewl pathetically “that- that feels weird”

“does it now?” her tongue darted out, licking the centre of your heart shaped tail with the ever so subtle tug at the corner of her lips “sensitive much” a couple more licks and kisses to your tail and you were pretty much done for. 

time to time you forget that you have some sort of libido increasing, aphrodisiac power. the kiss you two shared may have affected her. well it definitely did. the increase of confidence radiating from the older girl was way different in comparison to her usual self. cause by now you’d expect her to be a little more gentle with you.

flipping positions, yizhuo held you down with her two hands with a devilish look on her face “if it’s sex you want, then i’ll make sure to fuck you till your begging for me to stop” her hand travelled down your tail, stroking it as if she was stroking your dick. never before had someone do something like that to your tail, but my god did it feel so fucking good.

she toyed with it, prodded and poked the tip of it and sucked it with her pretty pink and plump lips. the other hand cupped your chest, fondling over your boobs to get a feel for her own satisfaction “i could get used to this…” being on top of you, she had the advantage to do whatever she desired, and also because you were too weak to move at all “what do you want y/n? want me to fuck you with my tongue or my fingers. you choose”

you chose the latter.

throwing your head back onto the fluffed up pillows, yizhuo waisted no time and went to her destination. not one, but two fingers pushed deep inside of your pussy, stretching you out so good. her lustfully hooded eyes looked down at you, absorbing in the expressions of your pleasure contorted face “how’s it feel? want me to add another for you baby?” 

unable to answer her question with words, you nod eagerly, wanting nothing but her fingers to fill you up. so she did, adding in a third finger since you asked to cutely with that nod of yours. now knuckles deep inside, that same devilish grin spread across her face. you unconsciously buck your hips up, smiling wearily at yizhuo “so.. so deep” your moans urged her to immediately start moving. she started out nice and slow, curling her fingers at different intervals to squeeze out those lovely moans of yours. every thrust, she explored your spongy walls, testing out the waters to see which place hit the best for you. then as time went by, she gradually built up her pace until she came to her desired speed.

three fingered merciselessly pounded hard into your tight cunt, your juices leaking and dripping onto yizhuo’s bedsheets, and the sounds of your wetness leaving the chinese girl in awe. noticing the way your hips began to meet with her speed, her hand that played with your tail slowly slided towards them, holding you down by the stomach “let me do all the work” driven by your moans, she leans down to press a hungry kiss on your lips, then leaving a hot trail of kisses down from your neck and onto your perky nipples.

swirling around the hardened bud on your chest, a guttural moan catches her attention “you like it when i suck on your tits, huh?” her thumb pressed against your swollen clit as she muttered those words, all the while still paying attention to your sensitive tits. she enjoyed the way you tried to wriggle your hips in attempts to move them, and how your hands clutched the sheets with pure desperation. she felt hazy, maybe a little bit tipsy somehow, but all she wanted to do was fuck you until you were screaming her name.

as her fingers continued to slide against your walls, hitting the right spots at an intense speed, you felt a knot form in your stomach. you were so desperate for relief, needing to buck your hips into her palm to get that sweet friction you felt on your clit, but she didn’t allow you to do that; her hand still resting on your stomach to stop you from squirming “yi-yizhuo~” you whined, teary eyes staring at her with a pitiful look “please yizhuo.. r-rub my clit please~”

and who was she to deny you.

though she didn’t do exactly what you wanted, she did something way more better. moving away from your nipples, she lowered herself down onto the bottom of her bed to shove her face right between your thighs. tongue darting out her mouth, she gives a few kitten licks on your clit, savouring the sweet essence of your pussy for a starter. those tiny kitten licks turned into something much more. the tip of her tongue circled against your heat, occasionally wrapping her lips around to give you a quick suck before continuing to lap your soaked folds up to your sensitive clit. 

the stimulation drove your crazy. you never knew that yizhuo was so skilled at this. still thrusting those three fingers inside of your now pulsating cunt, at the hot and wet kisses and licks she left on your clit, she knew - and you knew, that you were on the verge of toppling over the edge. but it wasn’t enough for her “is that good, hm? does my needy baby want me to fuck her harder?” yizhuo somehow had the strength to speed up, fucking your hole as she moans at how well you’re taking her. 

those words vibrated from your core and sent shivers across your spine, leaving goosebumps all over your skin - in which also made you clench around her fingers. 

fuck, it was way too damn good. you felt your legs shaking, jaw opening wide, stomach tightening and that course of hot pleasure travelling through your entire nervous system “close- close yizhuo.. don’t stop” your words came out slurred, a few unintelligible praises and swears being ripped out of the back of your throat as you felt yourself on the edge. 

with one final deep and hard thrust, your jaw slacked open as your orgasm was pulled out from your body, legs twitching and spasming as you repetitively screamed out yizhuo’s name alongside even more praises. for a minute your body fell limp against the bed, exhausted from the mind blowing orgasm yizhuo gave you, and also from the built up stress you had from promotions.

now full of the sexual energy you gained from yizhuo, you spring upwards, patting yizhuo’s head gently “t-thank you… i feel refreshed…” 

the older girl finally sat up after she cleaned you up. wiping her face and chin from the juices that dripped all the way down, she flashed you a smile “with that tail of yours, and those pink eyes, you’ve got to be a succubus… right? to answer her question, you nodded, cheeks red from her straightforwardness. 

“y-yeah. you’re right… wanna go again?”

“only if i bottom next”

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

hey so i saw the despicable me 4 trailer and i have a very specific beef with it that's making me insane

so, like, disclaimer, i havent watched any of the minion cinematic universe movies since despicable me 2 came out... holy fuck eleven years ago, jesus christ. but anyway i'm probably gonna get minute details wrong but like hold with me a second

so idr when despicable me 2 takes place in regards to the first film. from what i remember, agnes was having issues with not having a conventional nuclear family for mother's day so this implies it's the first mother's day that the girls have had in gru's household. i'm pretty sure that the first movie took place during the summer-ish, and iirc the second movie is also summer (fitting with my "roughly may" estimate) so we'll say like eight-ish months have passed since the first film. no big deal, right?

so then at the end of the film gru and kristen wiig get married but the timecard states that it's "147 dates later." i doubt they went on a date every single day leading up to the wedding but if we're assuming the date list also covers the engagement and wedding prep period, that's at the VERY VERY least one-hundred and forty-seven days after the events of the film. so with the timeskip at the beginning, that puts us at well over a year since the first film, thirteen months minimum

okay so the third film from my research doesn't state how long it takes after the wedding. so again, let's be generous and say that it's not too long after. i'm pretty sure the film itself takes place over a couple of days so we'll ignore its place in the continuity for now. that brings us to movie number four, which just got a trailer and just revealed a new player in the game

so gru and kristen wiig have a new biological child. this kid is old enough to move and emote, which puts him at 7-12 months old if he's able to crawl. let's again be generous and say it's seven months. assuming that human reproduction works the same as it does in our universe, and again being generous as hell and assuming that lucy may have been pregnant through the third film or right after the wedding, we have to add nine months to all this. so from the first film, we have ~8 month timeskip, then a 147-day minimum timeskip, then let's say 16 months to get to the baby being able to crawl. again, this is absolute bare minimum, and we still get to a conclusion of it's been roughly 29 months since the first film, or 2.5 years.

so okay. two-and-a-half years since the first film.

so then why the everloving fuck are the girls the same. fucking. AGE??

how have these motherfuckers not aged a fucking day??? they haven't grown a goddamn inch. it should have been, again, 2.5 years minimum, more likely 3-4 years if we're being realistic.

and to double check my work, i went on the despicable me wiki and found that they also put movie 4 at a three-year timeskip from the first movie, specifically putting margo at 10 in the first movie and 13 in the fourth, edith at 8-11, and agnes at 5-8; their main source is margo being stated to be 12 in the third movie, and her sisters' relative ages being provided by tweet, so even then this is, again, bare minimum on timeskip. and not only have these motherfuckers not changed style one fucking time, but they haven't changed height, weight, anything. agnes has hit eight years old and is the same height as the tiny-ass fucking minions. edith's hat still fits. margo should be in high school and she looks the same as she did three goddamn years ago

what kind of motherfucking witchcraft is the gru family using to keep themselves young??? they said gru stopped being evil but are we sure there isn't some vampire blood rituals happening in the minion basement

make them a new character model. please god

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {1}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: A year after losing your husband to an F1 crash, his teammate comes by and regrets never coming to check in on you. Warnings: 18+ only, grief and loss, depression, mentions of blood, alcohol WC: 2.2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

It doesn’t matter how long the night may seem, dawn will find a way to fight the darkness and break in a new day. Another day without him. 

365. It had been 365 days since he left this world for an eternity among the stars. Even now, a year later, you struggled to say his name without spiraling into the abyss where you wished you could join him. 

“Racing is my oxygen, I need it to survive.” That is what he had said whenever someone asked him if he was thinking about retiring.

“I hate you,” you murmured to the picture of your wedding day, the bright smiles something that hadn’t been seen inside these four walls for a year. 

You could almost hear his mocking laugh and you sighed at the truth, you could never hate him. He was your other half, he completed you. You hated that he had left you and the emptiness that had remained in his absence.

“I miss you.”

A knock sounded at your door and you dragged yourself through the silent house to see what had been delivered. You didn’t want to have to interact with anyone, let alone on a day like this one. “Just leave it on the step.”

“Y/N?”

You stumbled at the voice and froze, wondering if it was too late to climb back into bed and pull the covers up over your head and hide from the world. 

“Please, Y/N, open the door,” Lando called out.

They had been teammates. They had been friends. The three of you had spent so much time together the media joked Lando wasn’t third wheeling but a part of a throuple. 

Your hand trembled as you reached for the stiff deadbolt, the harsh scrape evidence of how long it had been since it was last opened for a grocery delivery almost two weeks ago. 

After the funeral, everyone else moved on with their lives while you were left with dozens of decaying bouquets and sympathy cards that could never replace your husband. For a while there were phone calls and invitations but leaving the house had become daunting and eventually those had stopped entirely. You couldn’t blame them.

“Jesus,” Lando muttered as you opened the door. “Are you alright?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you pointedly ignored his question. 

He shuffled on the doorstep as he shifted his balance about. “It’s the memorial unveiling today, I thought you might want someone to drive you.”

If you could feel anything, you might have felt angry. “I didn’t know there was an unveiling.”

“Shit, seriously?” He ran a hand through his curls that had grown longer than he used to keep them. “You should be there.”

He carefully stepped around you and into the house, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the stale air before he frowned. You couldn’t remember when you last opened the curtains, preferring the dark where you could sit in his shirt and pretend he was still with you even after his scent faded from the material.

Lando stepped into the kitchen next, opening the fridge and cupboards to find them almost empty before slamming them closed. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” you said lamely as he stormed across the room to grab your shoulders. “I’m fine. I was going to order groceries today.”

“This isn’t fine, Y/N!” He sighed and released his grip so he could pull you into his arms. “I should have come by sooner.”

You froze as you felt the first human contact in months and felt his heartbeat against you, the rhythmic thump enough to jolt you back into control and you pulled away, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively.

“I’m not your problem, Lando.” You turned to the door that was still open, his comical Fiat Jolly parked in the drive. “You should go.”

His head dropped as he slowly walked past, pausing only a moment to say something before he thought better of it and shook his head, closing the door behind him. 

The road noise in the retro pastel blue car was too loud to hear anything when Lando’s phone rang so he pulled over into the next parking lot off the busy streets and found Oscar’s name on the caller ID. 

“Hey mate, what’s up?” 

“Where are you?” his teammate asked in a hushed tone. “The ceremony starts in five minutes and you’re the one who actually drove with the guy.”

Lando stared out ahead at the shop space he had pulled into and saw it was a food mart. “I’m not going to make it.”

“What could possibly be more important than this?”

“I’ll talk to you later, tell them to start without me.” Lando hung up without a goodbye and rushed out of his car, an apology sent to his friend in heaven. 

There was no knock at your door this time, there was just the quiet scratch of the pot plant moving across the concrete step before it was unlocked and swinging open. 

You didn’t even have the energy to rise from the bed you had crawled back into, there was only one person who knew where the spare key was hidden. He pottered around in the kitchen and you heard the doors opening and closing before his bare feet padded softly down the hallway. 

“Coming in,” Lando warned as the door creaked open and he stepped into your room. “I hope you’re wearing something.”

Before you could ask why he gave you the answer and ripped the blankets off the bed. Cold air rushed in and you shivered as you pulled the hem of your husband’s shirt further down your thighs. The orange and grey pattern on the shirt caught Lando’s attention and his eyes turned down before he turned away and opened the closet.

You weren’t sure if he was expecting to see one half empty but you hadn’t been able to box up a single item. You were clinging onto them, and the memory they represented, for dear life. 

He grabbed a casual dress he had seen you wear before and tossed it over, the soft cotton covering your legs. “Get dressed.”

“Lando!” He had already disappeared back down the hall and you groaned as you rolled off the bed and onto your feet. The material hung loose around your body in a way it hadn't before and the dress was no longer flattering as you stood in front of the mirror. 

It was the first real time you had looked in the mirror and you barely recognised yourself. Your skin no longer glowed, your hair was knotted and unkempt and your eyes held no life where they were sunken into your face.

Needing to try salvage something of your dignity, you tried to brush out the knots but the handle snapped and you stared at it in disbelief. Sudden rage hit you as you failed at such a simple task and you threw what remained of the brush at the mirror, shattering the image but somehow making your reflection more true to how you were feeling.

“Y/N?” Lando skidded to a stop, barely missing the shards of glass on the carpet. “Are you alright?”

“No,” you admitted aloud for the first time and your legs gave out as reality crashed into you. “I miss him so much.”

You didn’t feel the glass slash your legs or the sharp pain as they stabbed your knees. You didn’t feel the warm blood seeping into the carpet or Lando’s arms as he picked you up. You didn’t feel anything but the overwhelming sense of loss like a fist squeezing your heart from inside your chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Lando murmured as he sat you on the kitchen side and cupped your face. “I’m sorry I wasn't here.”

“I’m not your problem,” you reminded him as you shook his hands off your face. “You were his friend and I’m not an inheritance.”

“I’m your friend too. A shitty friend, but I’m going to fix that,” he said as he looked down at your bleeding knees, “starting with this.”

He went to the cupboard above the fridge to find nothing had changed and the first aid kit was still on the shelf you struggled to reach, but he easily did. You tried to get a bandaid from it as he placed it on the benchtop beside you but he moved your hands back and gave you a warning look.

“This might hurt,” he apologised as he broke the top off a saline bottle and started to rinse the blood away. “There’s some glass stuck in there - maybe we should go to the hospital.”

“I’m not going back there, especially not today,” you said with a lick of venom and a shake of your head. “There’s whiskey in the back of the pantry, just give me some of that.”

He seemed dubious about the idea but knew how stubborn you could be and exhaled a resigned sigh before getting the half empty bottle. He looked at you through the clear glass, above the sloshing amber, and you could feel the judgement in that stare.

“I have trouble sleeping.”

He didn’t give you a response as he handed it over before getting a chair to sit on, placing your foot on his knee so he could try to get the glass out with a pair of tweezers. To be honest, you were numb to everything and didn’t even need the alcohol but you gulped greedily at the spiced whiskey. 

“What’s that?” you asked as you noticed a pot on the stove, steam softly billowing up, and then you noticed the mouthwatering scent. 

“Vegetable soup. You need to eat.”

“When did you get so mature?” The joke fell flat as he looked up and you saw the depth of his own grief that he let escape from where he had buried it.

“A lot has changed in a year.”

There was no appropriate response to be said so you took another swig and felt the warmth of the alcohol hitting your empty stomach while he continued to pull shards of glass out.

“All done,” he said as he gathered the rubbish and left you to inspect the bandaids plastered all over your knees and skins too.

“If you ever look for a change in career, nursing isn't the answer.”

His lips curled up with a small laugh as he checked the pot and gave the soup a stir. “You’re meant to say thank you.”

“Thank you, Nurse Norris.”

Lando returned to where you were sitting after lowering the heat on the stove and tapped his finger on the stack of mail beside you. He picked up an envelope with the F1 symbol beside the return address and flipped it over before seeing almost a dozen others just like it. 

“Your invitation is probably in one of these.”

“Did you know there’s a clause in the contracts for ‘surviving spouses’?” You laughed bitterly and tipped the bottle back, no longer feeling the burn of the alcohol rushing down your throat. “They send a cheque every month, the very people who killed him and I want nothing to do with, and if it wasn’t already bad enough, they send it in his name.”

Lando looked at the envelopes and frowned. “Seriously?”

You took the top one and ripped through the seal to show him the cheque address to René Gauthier. On and on, you tore them all open and Lando swallowed deeply as the mess grew.

“Do they think €10,000 a month is going to make everything better? Nothing they do can bring back my husband.”

“Nothing can fix what happened,” he said as he wiped your cheeks that you hadn’t noticed were damp with tears. “I know it doesn’t make it any easier but they brought in new regulations this year, so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Sometimes I wish he hit those officials,” your voice broke at the whispered confession. “He would have had to live with that guilt, but at least he would be alive. Oh god, I’m a terrible person.”

René had been labelled a hero for the manoeuvre he had done to save the lives of the officials that were in the wrong place. He had put himself into a wall swerving away from them and while they had walked away unscathed for their mistake, your husband had died for his. It wasn’t fair.

“You’re not a terrible person, Y/N,” Lando reassured you as he pulled your hands away from where you had hidden your face in shame. 

The alcohol had hit your system and you closed your eyes as the room swayed, your words falling unfiltered as your head spun. “Racing was his life, Lando, but he was mine. I don’t know how to live without him.”

The bottle disappeared from your fingers and you lifted your heavy eyelids to see Lando putting it on top of the cupboards out of your reach. 

“You find a way to live because it's what he would want.” He scooped you up off the counter and your head fell into the crook of his neck without resistance. “You find a way to live because we’ve already lost too much. I’m not going to lose you too.”

Click here for part two.

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

part one | part two

older rockstar!eddie x reader

summary eddie munson was an asshole, you knew that now. and the truth was you hated him, so much so that you couldn't stop thinking about him.

eddie munson hated himself, and he couldn't stop thinking about you. (16.3k)

warnings 18+ minors dni, age gap (reader is 22, eddie is 40), angst, asshole eddie, references to abuse, drinking (reader gets drunk), reader hurts herself (not intentionally!), very brief mention of blood, smut, making out, oral sex, penetrative sex, fingering, an overuse of nicknames. if i have missed anything please politely let me know <3

Seven Months Later. 

There’s this theory called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. It’s the scientific explanation for why you start to notice something, or someone more when your awareness of them increases. 

It’s an illusion. Your brain creates a cognitive bias. The truth is that thing was there all along. You just never cared enough to notice it before. 

Like Eddie fucking Munson. 

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.

.

The fall air was heavy with a bitter chill as it slinked in through your half-open window. You were barely conscious, your body still heavy with sleep, but you felt the cold wind embrace you in an unwelcome hug and you pulled your thick comforter over your head in a bid to escape it. 

You weren’t sure what time it was, your mind hazy as memories of last night came flooding back to you. You attempted to push them to the back of your mind, you didn’t need the self-loathing to begin already, you could get to that after you had managed to at least eat breakfast. 

Your arms felt heavy as you lifted them, stretching them above you. Your movements caused your comforter to fall around you, your eyes squinted to adjust to the harsh light that bled through the curtains. They were second-hand and made from really sheer material, they almost made no difference. But you kept them up anyway; you were a young woman living in a city by yourself, so you couldn’t afford to lose the small amount of privacy they granted you. 

Dragging your limp body out of bed (fuck you, college) you made your way over to your closet, grabbing the first crumpled-up clothes you saw and throwing them on, not bothering to even look at what you were now wearing.

And no, you didn’t shower, and yes you knew you should have. But quite frankly, you barely had the energy to get out of bed and go to class; asking you to shower and wash your hair was asking far too much from you. 

You had two exams today and a shift at the diner afterwards. None of which you were particularly looking forward to, but there wasn’t a lot you could do about that now except grin and bear it. 

Which is what you did. It was what you always did. 

As you stepped out of your apartment complex you felt the frost-bitten wind caress your face. You swore under your breath, pulling your coat tighter around you in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up. 

Looking up your eyes landed on the obnoxiously large billboard that sat opposite your building. And on it, of course, was none other than Corroded Coffin, with Eddie sitting front and centre. Promotion for their upcoming tour. 

You stared at it for far too long to be considered a passing glance. And just before you turned on your heel to walk to class you pulled a cold hand out of your pockets and pointedly gave it the middle finger. 

Fuck you, universe. 

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“I’ll tell you what you can do Marianne, you can shove your ideas and fuck-” 

“Okay, you’re done” John slammed his hands down on the table in front of him, pushing his chair back as he got up and all but manhandled Eddie, pulling him out before he could add more fuel to the fire, “Get out, come on. Jesus fucking Christ-” 

It was early. The sun could have only just risen when he woke up and he could hear the fucking birds chirping kind of early. 

It was 9 AM. 

He could easily have stopped John from dragging him out of the meeting room like a petulant child, but that would take energy he simply didn’t have. And the energy he did have he was more than happy to use on shouting at people who, in his humble opinion, were being pretty fucking stupid for it being the crack of dawn. 

9 AM. 

So instead he raised his calloused hands in mock defeat as he let John lead him down the wide corridor, a warning hand on his shoulder, and into another room. The room was identical to the one he had just been in; but there was no one in there, which made it much preferable to him. 

The harsh morning light beamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the exterior wall. The wall adjoining the room to the corridor was also made entirely of glass. Eddie leant his body weight against it, running his hands over his face as John shut the door behind them. Eddie’s eyes flicked to him briefly and he saw his body tense. He knew that he’d pissed him off. But he didn’t care, these moments were second nature to the both of them by now.

None of them dared speak first. Both of them quietly assessed the other, figuring out how explosive this was about to get. 

Very. If the past was any indication. 

Eddie being, well - Eddie, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, his hands fumbling around his many pockets trying to remember where he had last put his lighter. 

“You can’t smoke in here.” 

John’s curt voice cut through the thick tension clouding the room. Eddie’s eyes snapped to Johns, fucking insufferable bastard, and his hands halted their searching of his pockets. 

“If I don’t smoke I’ll turn into an asshole” Eddie bit out the words, a sarcastic smile painting his face. 

“Ah, so no different than usual then? Put the cigarette down and stop being a dick,” John walked over to the meeting table and pulled out a flimsy chair, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m tired of playing your fucking father.” 

“You’re barely five years older than me.” Eddie’s voice was harsh as he snapped back at John, but his face was heavy with some emotion that even John couldn’t place. He knew bringing up Eddie’s father was a bad idea. He only pulled out that card when he was desperate. 

“Exactly. I have two kids at home. You’re old enough to be their father, so don’t make me speak to you the way I speak to them. Shit, they’re better behaved than you are.” 

Anyone who knew John knew that he really did care for Eddie. He treated him like a brother, but Eddie didn’t yet return the same sentiment. John figured he probably never would, and he was okay with that. 

He knew Eddie’s history. All of it. He understood why Eddie was the way he was. He just wished he could help him. He also knew that if he told Eddie this, he would most likely leave with a black eye if he dared show any ounce of pity for him. 

Eddie liked to be treated a certain way. Harsh words shared between people on the most basic level. It made him feel safe. If he never connected with anyone he couldn’t hurt them. 

Or be hurt when they left him.

So John never mentioned any of what he knew. But Eddie knew that he was aware of his past, and he hadn’t abandoned him yet, so that was good enough for him. 

“You keep pulling shit like this and the label will drop you. It’s as simple as that.” 

Eddie scoffed, fiddling with the still unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’d like to see them try.” 

“Okay, listen to me” John leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, feet planted as if he was ready for a fight any minute. “You leave to go on tour in two hours—your first show is tomorrow. Figure your shit out. Drop the asshole facade you’re so desperately trying to hide behind,” 

Eddie didn’t say anything, he feared if he did he would only regret it. He simply stayed leaning against the wall, not looking away from John once. His stare was cold, calculated. 

“You’re not better than anyone in that room. No matter what the girls you’re fucking every night might be saying to you.” 

Eddie held his stare, a smirk pulling at his mouth. 

“They don’t usually say a lot actually. It’s hard when they're being fucked dumb, poor things can barely string a sentence together when we’re done” 

Eddie was looking for a reaction. He wanted a fight, needed a fight. 

John bit his tongue, biting back the words he knew Eddie was waiting to hear. He wanted Eddie to tell him he was an ass. That he was pathetic. That he deserved everything that had happened to him. 

He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. 

“What? Do you not get that sort of reaction from your wife after you’ve fucked her? That’s poor show John, I can teach you a few things if you need me to?” Eddie’s venomous tone hit exactly where he intended it to, he could tell by the way John clenched his jaw, “Or I could just fuck her for you.” 

“What the fuck’s happened to you, Eddie?” His voice was suddenly soft, concerned. Eddie hated it. “Is this all about that girl, because-” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie said with a deafening calm, “I’m going for a smoke.”

And with that Eddie turned and left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor. 

“You better not miss the flight later! You can’t fuck up everyone else’s life like you’re doing to your own!” John sighed as the words landed on deaf ears, Eddie already too far gone to pay any attention to him. 

It was going to be a long long tour. 

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.

.

Carpe Diem. That was a thing people said right? Well, you were here to tell them that was bullshit. 

Seize the day. Whatever that meant - it was certainly not meant for broke college students who had recently been fucked over by a world-famous rockstar, had almost certainly just failed their final exams and now had to endure a seven-hour shift at a diner. 

No, that saying was intended for people who already had their life together. Middle-aged moms living in the suburbs with their two children and a perfect husband. Who woke up each morning and decided between going to a new yoga class or a coffee morning with their book club girlfriends. 

Those were the type of people Carpe Diem was meant for. 

Not you. 

You had managed to get caught in the rain on your way to your shift. The cold rain soaking through your clothes and onto your skin enhanced every emotion you were already feeling. The cold wind was biting as you swerved through the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. It was nearing 10 PM, and you wouldn’t be home until the early hours of the morning; you rarely picked up night shifts. You had been working there for almost three years and you could count on one hand the number of times you had worked a night shift. But right now you needed the money, so when the shift was offered to you, who were you to turn it down? 

Once you had finally arrived you had almost immediately snapped at your manager when you walked through the heavy doors of the diner; she had made some innocent joke about how you would have been drier if you had swum here. 

She quickly realised you weren’t in the mood for jokes and told you she had a change of clothes in the back you could borrow. You nodded your head and forced an appreciative smile onto your face. You liked your manager, she was maybe a decade older than you, give or take, and she always made sure the chefs cooked you some food during a long shift. 

You ignored everyone else, one chef and two other waitresses who would be leaving soon, as you made your way to the staff room at the back of the diner, heading straight to your manager's locker and grabbing the clothes she had folded and placed on the top shelf. 

You threw on the jeans but hesitated as you unfolded the all too familiar shirt. You recognised the design instantly and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had the exact same shirt at home, although yours was lying abandoned in the back of your closet, and you had been content never to see, let alone wear it, again.

The worn-out corroded coffin logo stared back at you. 

Well fuck. 

It had taken you all of two seconds to decide that you would rather spend your night in a half-soaked t-shirt instead. When your manager had seen you walk back out, apron tied around your waist and a damp t-shirt clinging to you, she hadn’t questioned it. Instead, she pointed to your area for the night and told you it shouldn’t be too busy, she smiled a genuine smile and rubbed your back, like a caring mom, before leaving you to it. You could tell by the look of concern she tried to hide that she knew something was wrong. You seemed tense, which you never were. 

You hadn’t told anyone what had happened. You weren’t the first girl to be fucked over by Eddie and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. You felt ridiculous for being so hung up on what had happened. 

But there was just something about him. And you hated him for it. 

You saw pieces of him everywhere you went. Heard his voice in every store or cafe you went into, and every time it cut into you a little bit deeper than the last. He had left his mark on you and you had no idea how to get rid of it. The truth was you weren’t sure you wanted to. He made you feel safe. Which was insane given his reputation, but every time he looked at you it felt like a summer breeze wrapped itself around you. He smiled at you and it felt like running into the ocean for the first time on holiday. Like nothing could hurt you as long as he was there. 

But then he had been the one to hurt you, so fuck him, right? 

Yeah. Fuck him. You had tables to serve, people to pretend to like, and a myriad of awful attempts at flirting to politely ignore for the next… seven hours. 

It was going to be a long long night. 

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.

.

The truth was Eddie had tried relentlessly to avoid coming back here. To this city. 

To you. 

But it hadn’t worked. His team had asked him multiple times why exactly he was so adamant about avoiding this place, but hell would have to open up and drag him down there before he would tell anyone it was because of you. 

You had fucked him up more than anyone ever had. And he had spent one night with you. 

He barely knew anything about you. He knew your name, and he knew how old you were. He also knew what you sounded like when you came. 

He hadn’t told anyone about you. John knew, of course. But every time he would try to mention ‘that girl’ to Eddie he would shoot him a look that said “I am not above punching you in the face” and that was that. 

So now here he was. In the one city on earth, he would have happily avoided for the rest of his godforsaken life- 

“Do you want to go straight to the hotel? I already made sure the security stopped people hanging around outside, so you don’t have to worry about that.” John’s voice sounded from beside Eddie, although he was barely listening. 

The moment the plane landed he felt his heart race. Which was stupid, because as far as he knew you didn’t actually live here. You might have been here on holiday or just came for the concert. 

Fuck he hopes you didn’t come just for him. 

“You know tour used to be fun, we used to do shit. Get fucked up.” Eddie didn’t turn to look at John whilst he spoke, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette out of the barely open window. The torrent of rain outside still managed to slip in through the open space, leaving raindrops to settle on Eddie’s hair that fell around his shoulders. 

Eddie had a habit of avoiding other people’s questions, even simple ones. John had picked up on that fact rather fast. It was best to let Eddie lead the conversation, so that’s what he did. 

“I remember,” John replied, staring straight ahead from the back seat, watching the traffic they were attempting to drive through, “That was ten years ago, things change, you know that.” 

Eddie did know that. It didn’t mean he had to like it. 

When Eddie didn’t bother to respond John cautiously said “they all have families now, Eddie. A wife and kids. Can you blame them for not wanting to get high every night and fuck up a hotel room?” 

Eddie clenched his jaw, flicking the burnt-out cigarette out of the window and onto the rain-soaked road, “You have a wife and kids, why are you here with me? Not with them, with your perfect little picket-fence family, huh?” 

“Because I’m working. I don’t spend time with you out of the goodness of my heart, you know. You pay me to be here, to make sure some insane fan doesn’t stalk you or some shit.” John tried to sound lighthearted, adding some humour to his all-too-true words. But it didn’t help. 

Eddie once again went quiet, whispering something under his breath about it all being “fucking bullshit” but that was it. He hadn’t apologised to John about that morning, the comment about his wife. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he was sorry. And he knew that made him the asshole everyone said he was, but he had been wearing that badge of honour for a long time, he’d be damned if he let it bother him now. Maybe he just was an asshole. 

“Do I assume you do just want to go straight to the hotel?” John asked again, he knew not to push Eddie but he really needed to let the poor driver know where he was taking them. Although with the traffic at a standstill, they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. 

“No” Eddie’s blunt response would have been enough to have most people stop talking to him. 

“Well, where do you wanna go then? I’m not driving around with you all fuckin’ night I’ll tell you that for nothing.” Eddie finally turned in his seat to look at John, although his gaze seemed to be focused on the window behind him instead, “It’s gone midnight, you may be a rockstar but I’m old. I need to sleep.” 

“Here. I’m hungry.” 

John turned, confusion evident as he furrowed his eyebrows and breathed out a barely audible “what?”. The car had stopped outside a diner, open twenty-four hours, based on the worn-out sign hanging in the window. There was no one inside, except a waitress. This was probably the only place in the city Eddie could go to without being spotted and harassed. 

“Are you serious? They have room service at the hotel and-” 

“I fucking said I wanna eat here, is that so hard to understand?” Eddie snapped, his hands fiddling with the bracelets and pieces of fabric he had tied around his left wrist. “I- can we just get out here, I’m fuckin’ starving” 

“Well if you would have eaten on the plane instead of insulting the food-” 

“That shit looked like I could have made it. Would you eat my cooking, John?” 

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” 

“Exactly.” Eddie took off his seatbelt and waved his hands toward the door on John’s side “let’s go.”

John reluctantly moved to open the door, stepping out into the cold rain. Eddie followed suit, taking in his surroundings as he waited for John to tell the driver something, probably asking him to come back in an hour. 

The bell hanging over the door rang out into the quietness of the diner as they both walked in, glad to be out of the rain for the brief time they were in it. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a radio playing behind the counter. A woman stood behind it, her back turned and windswept hair flowing over her shoulders, an apron tied around her waist. Eddie could see that her shirt was damp and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through him as he realised she must have gotten caught in the downpour on her way here. Eddie had never had to work a service job before, but he knew damn well if he did and his clothes were soaked through before he had even started, he would have gone home. No questions asked. 

He made a mental note to try and be nice to her. He never did that, but he promised himself he would at least try. 

John hesitated a minute before walking over to an empty booth and sitting himself down, his eyes trained on the girl behind the counter. 

Eddie sat opposite him, stretching his legs out under the table and picking up the menu that was left on the table. He decided on the first thing he saw and threw the menu back down, sliding it over to John, but he still wasn’t looking anywhere except at the waitress behind the counter. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Eddie asked quizzically. John’s whole body language had changed the minute they had walked in. Sure, it wasn’t the most high-end place they had ever eaten, but Eddie had never taken him for a snob. 

“Okay, you’ve got about ten seconds to decide if you want to just get up and leave.” 

“What-” 

“Too late,” John said suddenly, his eyes darting back to Eddie “don’t be an asshole.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the fuck was he talking about? He looked around to see that the waitress had turned, now facing both of them.

And she was looking straight at Eddie. 

You were looking straight at Eddie.

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There are certain feelings that you’ve never been able to explain to people. You’ve never been particularly good at expressing how you feel because you’ve rarely been able to understand or process your own emotions. 

But as you stood in the diner, at 12:46 AM, and saw Eddie sitting across from you. You knew exactly how you felt. 

You felt angry. 

You felt heartbroken. 

You felt confused. 

You felt the happiest you had felt in seven months.

And then you felt the world fall out from underneath your feet. 

You felt like Eddie was about to rip your heart out all over again. 

You hadn’t moved. Shit. What the fuck were you meant to do? Eddie hadn’t moved either. But John had, and he was walking right towards you. 

“Hey,” he was tense, you could tell. “Listen, I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head right now. But, I can imagine at least one of them is that you’d like to punch him square in his face, right?” John tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge your reaction. You still hadn’t moved. You weren’t totally sure you were breathing. 

“I’m gonna trust that you won’t do that, if I’ve been able to hold off from smacking him every day for the past seven months I’m sure you can too.” 

John laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat. Something told you he wasn’t joking. 

“Now, there’s a bar over there.” He pointed past you, out of the window, towards the dive bar sitting directly across from the diner “And even though I can’t drink whilst I’m working. I am going to go there anyway. I’ll be gone twenty minutes. Talk to him. Ignore him. Throw him out of here, for all I care. Do whatever you’ve gotta do.” 

And with that John turned and walked out of the diner. The sounds of the city filled the diner as the door swung open and shut again. And then it was just you. And him. 

And those two old guys sat at a table in the corner. Ignore them. 

You shifted your weight on your feet, you wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him. 

Your feet had carried you over to his booth before you had realised what you were doing. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, and for a second you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but then- 

“John ran out of here as quick as he fucking could, didn’t he?” Eddie… laughed? Genuinely laughed as he said it, a honey-thick smile covering his face. 

“Yeah, he basically floored it to the bar over there” you pointed awkwardly, even Eddie was sitting with his back to the window, and couldn’t see. He smiled again anyway, dropping his gaze from you to stare at his hands that were resting on the table. 

When you didn’t smile back you saw his whole body tense up. What did he expect from you here? To take him to the back room and fuck him? 

“Can you sit down, and talk for a minute, maybe?” 

“I’m working if you hadn’t already noticed.” You responded, voice slightly harsher than you meant for it to sound. 

“I know- shit, I know. I didn’t mean that you weren't, I just meant,” he was stumbling over every other word, and you know it should have given you some satisfaction to see him like this. To realise that maybe you weren’t the only one who came out of this whole thing scorned. But you felt sorry for him, his eyes were heavy with something sad. His usual cocky facade was nowhere to be seen. 

“I can sit for a while, it’s okay.” You hated how soft your voice went, Eddie heard it too, he bit back a smirk and sat up a bit straighter as you sat down across from him. 

“Your shirt is wet,” Eddie said, making a vague gesture with his hand. It was still wet, you guessed, although it was much drier than it had been. “They really made you work in wet clothes? They had nothing for you to wear. You must be cold, that’s all.” 

“My manager gave me some clothes to wear, yeah. I just kept my top because I didn’t feel like wearing hers.” 

Eddie cocked his head to the side, a silent question as to why. 

Well, fuck it. “She’s a big fan of yours. I didn’t want to walk around in a Corroded Coffin top all night so, here I am.” 

There it was. He had been waiting for it. The moment he couldn’t avoid it any longer. 

“Y/N I’m-” 

You cut him off, you weren’t ready to hear whatever sorry excuse he pulled out of his ass. “Sorry? An asshole? A bastard? Take your pick, seriously.” Eddie watched you, his face blank as he took in every word you said. 

You saw his jaw clench. The same way it had when he had left you alone in that hotel room. 

“You want me to say sorry? For what, exactly?” You physically flinched at his words, the harshness of them. That honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen, his eyes had gone distant. 

“You want an apology because I treated you the same way I treat every other girl I fuck? Listen, sweetheart, you knew what the deal was from the start, don’t act like some fucking innocent party in all of this.” You felt the breath go from your lungs, he had leaned forward as was speaking to you, leaning on his forearms as he broke your heart again. 

“You’re telling me you didn’t go around telling anyone who would listen that we had fucked?” Eddie spat at you. 

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was quiet but definite. “I didn’t tell anyone.” 

Eddie paused for a moment, something flashed across his face. Relief? Confusion? Anger? You truly couldn’t tell. You weren’t sure he could either. “Maybe you should have. Gossip tabloids will pay a lot of money for shit like that” he turned his head, looking away from you. You wanted to get up and walk away. Shout at him. Tell him how much he had hurt you. 

“You asked me to sit down so you could insult me, was that it?” you asked him, “well you’ve done that so can I go now?” 

“What did you think I was going to do? Profess my undying love for you? Tell you I tracked you down just so I could tell you how sorry I was?” Eddie shot back, he had built that wall back up around himself the minute you had snapped at him. He couldn’t bring himself back from that ledge, no matter how much he wanted to. And he so desperately wanted to. 

Because whenever his eyes landed on yours felt his heart break, he truly believed you held the whole world in your eyes, a world he longed to be a part of. 

“I thought you could be a decent fucking human being, Eddie.” Hearing you say his name made him feel like he was drowning. Your voice dropped as you decided you needed to get it out of your system.  “I thought you would have some respect for me. Do you know how fucked up I’ve been over this? I fucking cried over you.” 

Eddie didn’t try to interrupt, he didn’t have any reaction to what you had just said. You could almost believe he wasn’t listening to a word of what you were saying. 

He was. 

“I get it, okay. This is what you do. Fine. Good for you, if you’re happy like this then please don’t let me, or anyone else, stop you.” You weren’t sure where your confidence had come from, but you felt like this would be the only time he would be sat in front of you again. “I didn’t want to like you. I thought you would be a complete asshole, and I was fine with that.” 

Your gaze dropped from his face to his hands, where he was pulling at the jewellery he had on his left wrist. His hands gave away everything he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t think he was even aware of how much he was giving away. A couple of seconds later his hands stopped moving, and he moved them off the table, onto his lap. He hadn’t realised you were watching him so closely. He hated that. 

“Eddie, listen to me, I liked you. I felt safe with you” Eddie’s eyes scanned your whole face as you spoke, almost as if he was looking for any proof you were lying. You spoke slowly, determined for him to really hear you, and understand what you were saying. “You’re a good person, Eddie. You are not what everyone says you are. Maybe you try to be that guy, but you’re not. You care about other people, but I don’t think you care about yourself.” 

Eddie’s face had softened, he swallowed and shook his head, barely. But you saw him do it, nevertheless. 

“I don’t know you, I know that. But I think you want to be happy, you want to be a good person. But you can’t let yourself. I’m not saying this because I want you to fall in love with me, or some shit. But I hope one day you will fall in love with someone. And I hope you’ll let yourself love them.” 

All of a sudden it was too quiet. You hadn’t even noticed that the two older gentlemen who had been in the diner had left. A twenty-dollar bill was left on the table. The radio played dimly in the background, the rain clattered against the windows and roof. The muffled sounds of the city nightlife outside. Eddie hadn’t said anything to you. You nodded your head and shuffled out of the booth, prepared to leave him alone until John got back. 

You walked back over to the counter, picking up the money as you went. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You had made yourself a coffee and were about to start tidying up when you heard Eddie move. His heavy footsteps echoed off the floor, his leather jacket rubbing against itself. You looked up, expecting to see him walk out. But he didn’t. 

“I’m– we’re playing a show. Tomorrow. If you want to come, that would– fuck, um.” you had never heard his voice sound like it did right now. Soft, but still him. That confidence was hidden just below the surface. “Please come. If you don’t want to watch the show, then come when it finishes.” 

You were the one not saying anything now. You were so angry with him, he still hadn’t apologised. He had barely said anything to you, apart from the insults he had thrown at you. So why the fuck did you want to go. Why could you not imagine this being the last time you saw him? 

“Come to the door, ask security to get John. He’ll make sure you get in okay, I promise.” 

You didn’t have time to even nod in agreement before Eddie was heading for the door, he opened it and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from him. Even with the promise of seeing him tomorrow, it felt like too much of a risk to not take him in as much as you could whilst he was there. 

“I’m sorry.” 

And then he walked out, letting the door shut behind him. Only this time he had said something to you before he left you. And you knew, no matter how much it would make you hate yourself, that you would see him tomorrow. 

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“What the fuck is wrong with you? Genuinely, I’m genuinely asking you, this isn’t a joke anymore.” Eddie knew John would be insufferable on the drive to the hotel, but if he knew he would be like this? Eddie would have walked. 

“I apologised to her. I invited her to the show, whatever she does is her decision.” Eddie bit out, John laughed at his words. The kind of laugh that said are-you-clinically-insane? Eddie couldn’t find it in him to disagree with that. 

“Eddie, I have known you for almost as long as that girl has been alive-” 

“Okay well that’s not what I need to hear right now, John for fuck-” 

“No, listen to me. I have known you since you were barely older than her. And I have never ever seen you be so fucked up over someone else. I have never seen you care about someone else the way you do that girl– and don’t try and bullshit me here. Because you do care about her.” John sounded blunt, harsh. But Eddie knew he only sounded like that when he loved someone and wanted them to be okay. He only pulled out that voice when he needed to slap some sense into Eddie. 

Eddie had never told him, but he did love John like a brother. He might tell him someday, maybe with you next to him. Maybe. 

“For the past seven months, there is not a day gone by where I have looked at you and you weren’t completely zoned out. You were thinking about her, every time. I knew that. So now, here’s your chance. Not everyone gets those, you know that better than anyone.” 

Eddie held back a shaky breath. John saw it, but he knew they needed to have this conversation. 

“You are not your father, Eddie.” John needed him to truly understand that. “You never have been him, and you never will be. You won’t ever hurt that girl, in whatever way you’re afraid you will.” 

Eddie froze, and then– “I don’t want to hurt her. I would never, I promise. But what if–” 

“You are not your father,” John repeated “I know the kind of things he said to you, how he treated you. And how he treated your mother.” 

Eddie nodded his head, tears welling in his eyes as he let John talk. 

“The idea that you are even related to that man is astounding. And, how you got this reputation is beyond me.” John laughed, remembering something “You– you forced me to adopt a kitten you saw outside your trailer when I first met you, told me it needed to live with someone who had a ‘fancy-ass’ house. You gave her to me and threatened to tell my girlfriend if I said no.” Eddie laughed through the tears that were staining his cheeks. 

“Don’t let your father win. He’s not around to control you anymore. If you ask me, you should have gotten on your knees and begged that girl to forgive you; begged her to give you a second chance.” The car stopped and John looked out of the window, the lights from the hotel flickering through the rain. John turned back to Eddie as he took off his seatbelt “Now, I don’t know if she’s going to turn up tomorrow. But if she does? Then she could be the happiest girl in the world if you just let yourself be vulnerable.” 

Eddie nodded again, afraid that if he spoke his voice would break with all the emotions that were running through him. 

“I assume I’m chaperoning this girl during the show tomorrow?” John said as they both climbed out of the car. 

Eddie nodded, and John flung an arm around him as they walked into the hotel. 

“I do not get paid enough for everything I do for you.” 

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After Eddie had left the rest of your shift flew by. No one else came in, which was normal for a weeknight. You spent the last couple of hours of your shift trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that were clouding your brain. Once the sun had started to rise and the orange sunlight began to flood through the windows you felt yourself heave a sigh of relief. 

Your manager popped out from the back office every now and then, if she was aware of your run-in with Eddie she didn’t say anything. She never worked the night shift (being the manager had its perks), but the other waitress had called in sick earlier, and there was no one else to cover her. 

She had told you she would drive you home, there was no way she was letting you get a taxi. You didn’t argue with her, thanking her and telling her you’d give her gas money, considering your apartment was in the opposite direction to yours. She was adamant you would do no such thing. 

Just before 5 AM, the morning waitresses came in. You wouldn’t call them friends per se, but they were nice enough. One was in her mid-forties, with mousy brown hair that she always wore in a long ponytail, bouncing with each footstep she took during her shift. The other was around your age, and you were closer to her. You had been for drinks with her a couple of times, she was loud and extroverted so you never had to do much talking, which you were perfectly happy with. 

They made polite conversation as they walked in, asking you how the night had been and if anything eventful had happened. 

“Nope, it was pretty boring, to be honest.” There was no way in hell you were telling them that Eddie Munson had been sitting not even a foot away from where they were standing. 

You politely dismissed yourself and went to find your manager. You ran into each other in the back hallway, she laughed telling you she was just about to come and rescue you. 

The drive home was quiet, casual conversation was shared between the two of you, but nothing more. Soon enough she pulled up outside of your apartment building. You thanked her and went to get out of the car, but before you could she placed a hand on your arm. 

“Y/N if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me, you know? You’ve been quiet for a few months now. I don’t want to intrude or push any boundaries, but I care about you. And not just because you’re a good waitress.” You both laughed, and you assured her you were okay. Maybe one day you’d tell her what had been going on. But not just yet. 

You went to bed as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, only making time to pull off your clothes and throw on the oversized t-shirt you slept in. The mattress seemed to swallow you whole as you threw your body down and pulled your comforter over your head. 

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You only realised you hadn’t set an alarm when you woke up that evening, with a couple of hours left before you needed to leave. 

To see Eddie. 

Oh fuck. 

You stumbled through your apartment to your bathroom and jumped in the shower. The cold water stole a breath from you and made sure you were awake. It took far too long for the water in your building to warm up, and to be honest, you figured taking a cold shower before you saw Eddie couldn’t be a bad thing. 

Coming out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you turned on the lamps you had dotted around your apartment, the daylight quickly fading. 

Your apartment was nice, you were incredibly lucky you had stumbled upon it when you moved here. It was only a studio, but what more did you need when it was just you? You separated your bedroom from the lounge and kitchen with a curtain that hung from the ceiling. It had been there when you moved in and you didn’t question how exactly the previous residents had got it there in the first place. 

The rest of the apartment was undoubtedly old-fashioned. With 60’s and 70’s architecture but you made it your own. You brought all of your furniture from thrift stores, leaning into the 60’s look that you had been lumbered with. A variety of rugs covered the floor, lamps were placed on tables and plants were in every corner. It felt homely, certainly far from perfect but it was your own, and that was all that mattered. 

You spent an hour or so doing your makeup, hair and getting dressed. You had never been the most confident person, but tonight you felt genuinely pretty. But you barely gave yourself time to let yourself feel that before the nerves took over your body. You felt lightheaded, a telltale sign that your anxiety was about to get the better of you. 

So you did what you should never do in those situations. You eyed up the bottle of vodka you had out on your kitchen counter, left over from the other night when your friends had come over. 

You told yourself you’d do one shot. Ease your nerves and loosen you up so you could at least talk to Eddie when you saw him. 

Now, you would like to reiterate that this was the worst decision you could have made. 

After the first shot, you called a taxi. And then you took two more shots before leaving your apartment. 

You were a lightweight. This is important to note because you were already tipsy. 

You arrived at the venue about five minutes before the concert started, meaning it was relatively quiet outside, everyone else was already inside, excitedly waiting for it to start. You remembered what Eddie had said about speaking to security and asking for John. It was cool outside, but not cold. The soft air hits your face and sobers you up slightly, you rested against a wall for a minute, asking yourself what the fuck you were doing. 

Eddie had said sorry only after he had shouted at you. Accused you of telling anyone who would listen that you had fucked him. And maybe you were crazy, maybe you were being stupid. But… you looked at him and you felt like you were wrapped in a warm hug, his eyes were deafening. One look into them and time slowed down, any music stopped playing, and everyone stopped talking, all because you were looking at him. 

You couldn’t ignore that feeling. It was the feeling you read about in fairy tales as a child. So here you were, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Trusting Eddie not to break it. 

You made your way over to one of the entrances and spoke to the man standing there. You asked him to get John. He asked your name, and when you told him a knowing look crossed his face. He smiled and told you to wait there. 

Has Eddie told everyone about you? No, no he wouldn’t do that. He probably told John to let security know you were coming, so they wouldn't turn you away. 

Whilst you waited for John you felt the alcohol really take an effect. Oh no. 

Before you had time to curse yourself for your decisions John rounded the corner, he smiled at you and waved you forward. 

“I really hoped you would turn up. I don’t know why, but I did.” John told you, there was something in his voice you couldn’t place. He sounded happy, amused almost. A complete turnaround from his demeanour when you first met him. 

“Eddie could convince anyone to do anything.” your voice was slightly shaky, trying to act sober will do that to a person. John looked at you as he led you to the balcony you would watch the show from, a knowing look crossing his face. 

If he knew you were drunk, he spared you the embarrassment of pointing it out “He really could.” John pushed back a curtain and signalled for you to walk through. The balcony was big, and there were plenty of people up there. Some were sitting on the sofas that were dotted along the back wall, others were leaning over the railing watching the concert. It had just started, and the noise was deafening as you walked in, the music was almost drowned out by the screams throughout the arena. 

“I’ll come back to get you at the end” you nodded your appreciation and walked over to the railing, a couple of people smiled at you. You assumed they were all family and friends, and suddenly you felt incredibly out of your comfort zone. You focused on the show instead, ignoring the eyes that you could feel staring at the back of your head. You didn’t blame them for being curious as to who you were, you just wished they would stop staring at you. 

Twenty or so minutes later someone who obviously worked the bar brought over a tray of cocktails for everyone. Given your already tipsy state, you were inclined to pass on them, but then a sweet woman brought you one over. She was all wide smiles, sparkly eyes and gentle conversation. And soon enough you were downing another cocktail whilst she told you all about herself. 

She was the wife of the drummer. They were high-school sweethearts and had a kid together. It was nice, she didn’t pressure you to tell her exactly why you were there which you were grateful for. You weren’t sure how to explain you were a one-time hook-up who was now here for… you still didn’t know what you were here for. But you felt yourself relax as you finished the cocktail and you ended up enjoying yourself far more than you had anticipated, a smile was plastered across your face when the concert ended and John came up behind you, a gentle tap on the shoulder to get your attention. 

“Eddie asked me to take you straight out to the car, he’s already there,” John said as he held an arm out around you. You were drunker than you thought. 

“Why are we going to a car? Wait–” You turned around comically fast, John held back a laugh when you held your arm out to steady yourself “did you tell Eddie I was… drunk?” you whispered the last word, for some reason. 

You were so far gone it would have been funny any other time. Right now you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. 

“I popped my head in halfway through and saw you down a cocktail. Considering I could smell vodka on you when you got here I made the safe assumption you wouldn’t be sober.” your face dropped at his words and he noticed, “hey don’t worry about it. Eddie is in no position to judge anyone for this, trust me, sweetheart.” 

You nodded and let him lead you to the car, the cold night air a welcome feeling on your warm skin. John opened the door for you and you looked in to see Eddie with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Oh no he’s gonna laugh at me John” you sounded like a child who had been caught eating chocolate when they weren’t supposed to. John couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“Yeah he might, but it will be out of love” you tilted your head at his words. ‘Out of love’ was a saying, but the idea of Eddie loving you made your heart jump and your brain shut off.

John asked for your address, and when you questioned why exactly he needed to know that, he said Eddie was taking you home. 

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“Okay you’re like Bambi on ice here sweetheart, give me your hand” 

You had arrived at your apartment soon enough, the flickering city lights and the motion of the car enough to make your head spin. Eddie noticed and told you to rest your head on his shoulder. You did what he said, practically burying your face in his jacket to stop the dizziness from getting worse. Now you were attempting to make it up to your apartment, which was proving to be a much more difficult task than it should be. You had sobered up compared to earlier, but you were still tipsy and your balance was questionable at the best of times. You were still tipsy enough to be far more relaxed than you were expecting to be around Eddie. 

Eddie held a hand out for you and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, balancing yourself as you walked down the corridor.  

“I am much more graceful than Bambi ever was,” you told Eddie, trying to search for your keys in your pockets as you stood outside your door. 

“If you say so” Eddie laughed, it was a sweet laugh, one that filled your whole body with warmth and made you feel all gooey inside. Gooey was not a word that existed in your daily vocabulary, but apparently, it was when you were drunk. 

“Please tell me you have your keys–” 

“I have them! These pockets are just– oh! See, I’ve got them!” 

“You sure do” Eddie watched you as he kept a gentle arm around you, he wasn’t touching you, he was just ready for you to go down at any minute. 

You not-so-gracefully managed to get your keys in the door and swing it open, Eddie was hesitant, waiting outside your door as you swept your apartment, turning on the lamps and closing your curtains. “You can come in, you know” 

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all.” 

“I thought you wanted to talk to me?” you asked him, had he changed his mind? You felt tears well at the back of your eyes and you silently cursed yourself. 

“Tomorrow. If you want to. I’ll give you my number, and you can call me when you’re not drunk, okay sweet?” 

“O-okay. '' he watched you search for something for a minute, and then you were signalling for him to come in. He did, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. 

“Here. Write your number down for me,” you told him as you held out the pad and paper. A smile spread across his face and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. 

“I could just put my number into your phone, sweetheart. I thought I was meant to be the old one here.” 

“Shut up, it’s cute this way,” you whispered under your breath, but he clung to every word. You were different in your own home, Eddie thought. More relaxed, although that could be the alcohol. But no, the way that you walked around, comfort seeping into you as you relaxed back into your own space. The way you had slipped your shoes off instantly, your socks padding across the floor as you turned on the lights. It suited you, he thought. 

Eddie nodded his head to the table in the corner, asking if he could lean against that to write his number for you, as you had insisted. You mouthed a ‘yeah’ at his request. He seemed to take in everything around him as he walked over to the table, looking at the decor you had lying around. You suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. 

He was in your home. This man was still arguably a stranger. But that pang of vulnerability was soon replaced with a feeling of contentness. Eddie suited domesticity. He fit right into your space, his style a contrast to your apartment, but it wasn’t unwelcome. 

You pulled your eyes away from Eddie long enough to try and grab yourself a drink of water. But as you leant your hands on the kitchen counter you placed your hand right on a knife you had left out earlier. In your drunken state, you attempted to pick it up and put it away, but you managed to grab the sharp edge. You pulled your hand back quickly, but there was still a cut on your palm, blood pooling around the injury. 

“Oh shit,” you hissed, pain evident in your voice. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie practically jumped out of the chair he had sat in, dropping the pen he was holding and making his way over to you. 

“I picked up that knife,” you told him. 

“What– why– why did you do that?” Eddie asked you, with genuine confusion in his voice as he gently took your hand into his, looking at the damage you had done. 

“Well I thought it would be fun to– I obviously didn’t do it on purpose!” you said defensively, but you were smiling at him despite the pain. 

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie hadn’t heard any of what you had just said, you could tell by the flatness of his voice, “come on, let’s get you sorted out.” 

You suddenly felt nervous, his hand on your sending heat rising throughout you. “No, it’s okay. You go, I can just stick a bandaid on it. It’s all good.” 

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight knowing I left a lady in distress.” Eddie joked, you couldn’t help the blush that flooded your cheeks at his words, “besides your hand could still fall off.” Eddie said in a dead-serious tone. One that made you burst out laughing. 

“I think it’ll be okay,” you said through breathy laughter. 

“Let me take care of you and we’ll know for certain,” Eddie said. You nodded and he asked you where your bathroom was. You stared at him for a second and then pointed to the only door in the apartment, besides the front one. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar. But that was okay. 

Eddie led you to the bathroom and you sat down on the counter next to the sink, holding your hand out in front of you. 

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Eddie asked you gently. 

“In the cupboard below the sink,” you told him, moving your legs to the side so he could get to it. 

Eddie bent down and grabbed it off the shelf. He stood back up and placed it next to you, opening it and grabbing out what he needed. You moved your legs so Eddie could stand between them. He picked up your hand and looked at it once more before he gently cleaned it. You watched his hands the whole time, the way he was so soft with you, whispering out little apologies when you whispered out a complaint once that it hurt. 

Eddie wrapped a dressing around your hand, you asked if it was too much but he said the cut was deeper than you realised. So you simply nodded and watched his hands wrap around yours. Once he had secured the dressing he looked up at you, breathing a “done” and holding your hand in his.

You meant to say thank you, but that wasn’t what came out “You’re really pretty.” 

Eddie smirked and dropped his head, you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your brutal honesty. “So are you angel.” 

A sickly-sweet smile crossed both of your faces. You wanted to kiss him. 

You should kiss him. 

You moved your head ever so slightly, but Eddie caught on to what you were doing and brought his spare hand up to rest on your cheek, a sweet movement but one that was intended to stop you from doing what you were about to. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m tipsy,” you insisted. 

“I’m not gonna kiss you. Not tonight, sweetheart.” You pouted at his words. A childish move and quite frankly it confirmed to him that you were far from sober. 

“When I kiss you again, I want you to remember it.” you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his. His hand on your face, and his voice and his eyes and it was all-consuming. 

“Come on, get into bed,” you smirked and he swore every time you smiled at him you took a little piece of his heart with you. “By yourself, smartass. Get into bed by yourself.” 

“My makeup,” you told him. It was barely a full sentence but it was the best you could do when he was standing so close to you. 

“Yeah, I like it.” He said. He rubbed his thumb under your eye and you held back a laugh. 

“No– I can’t go to sleep in my makeup.” you clarified. He sighed out an ‘oh’ and then dipped back down to open the cupboard below the sink. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but then he came back up with makeup remover and a washcloth. A smile that tugged on his star-filled eyes flooded his face. 

Your heart broke for him all over again but for a different reason this time.  

“Close your eyes, angel. Don’t wanna blind you.” 

You did as he said, slowly closing your eyes after you saw him tip some of the water onto the cloth. He was incredibly gentle with you, barely applying enough pressure to remove the makeup, but you didn’t tell him that. 

After a minute or so you felt his hand leave your face and you hesitantly opened your eyes. He smiled at you and tilted his head, taking you in. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up old man.” you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. In your defence, in your current state, that was the height of comedy. 

“Oh wow. You have a talent for running perfect moments don’t you doll.” 

“I’m sorry. You’re not old” You told him, moving to get down off the counter and make your way into bed, “You’re middle-aged” 

Eddie huffed out a laugh as he followed you, “I’ll take it.” He sighed, you couldn’t see but his eyes were full of love as he watched you get into bed. You hadn’t bothered to change into pyjamas. That felt… too much. You were drunk enough that you could easily fall asleep in your clothes. 

“Do you need to lock the door after me,” Eddie asked quietly. 

“The door locks automatically, as soon as you shut it. I’ve been locked out too many times to count,” you told him, your voice muffled by the pillow your head was smushed against. 

“Okay.” Eddie ran a hand through your hair that fell around your face. “I’m gonna go, angel.” 

You were too tired to verbally respond anymore, sleep had quickly taken over when your body hit the mattress. You heard Eddie move around, but didn’t lift your head to see what he was doing. And then you heard the door open and shut. 

Your eyes shut to the sound of his walking down the corridor. 

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When you woke up the next morning your first thought was of Eddie. 

And that was how you knew you were officially fucked. 

You sat up and a glass of water on your bedside table caught your eye. You didn’t remember putting it there but you gratefully leaned over and picked it up, taking small sips as you assessed how bad your hangover was. 

It wasn’t. That was your saving grace. You were still young enough to avoid bad hangovers; you had a slight headache and the sunlight seemed slightly too bright. But it was nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn’t sort out. Sitting up fully you swung your legs out of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. 

You put the now-empty glass back down and a piece of paper grabbed your attention. Picking it up you saw a number written down. And an ‘-E’ next to it. 

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Eddie got back to the hotel to find John waiting outside his room. 

“It’s creepy to stalk people, you know?” Eddie announced as he pulled out the card to open the door. 

John ignored him, “How was the girl?” heasked, tiredness seeping from him. 

“You know her name, what’s with calling her ‘the girl’ all the time?” Eddie asked as he stepped inside. 

“I like it. Makes it sound more mysterious.” John said as he leaned in the doorway, watching Eddie make his way down the hallway and into the bedroom. 

“She’s passed out in bed,” Eddie shouted loud enough for John to hear him. 

“Good. The poor girl’s gonna have a hell of a morning.” 

“She’s young, she’ll be fine,” Eddie said, coming back out from the bedroom and leaning against the wall. 

“Right. And you? You’ll be fine too?” John asked sincerely. 

“If you let me get some damn sleep I’ll be great.” John nodded and pushed himself off the door frame, pulling the door shut behind him. 

Eddie didn’t sleep much that night. He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, finally falling asleep when his body physically couldn’t stay awake any longer. 

He was thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. 

Which is why when his phone rang halfway through the morning, he jumped off the couch and practically lunged for his phone that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice was loud against the quietness on the other end of the phone, for a minute he worried it wasn’t you calling. His chest suddenly felt heavy, but then– 

“Hi. It’s me.” You. 

Your voice rang through his head and he would never admit to anyone that a smile graced his face at the sound. 

“How are you?” Eddie asked, he swore you could hear his smile in his voice. 

“I’m alive.” you said, laughter bubbling up, “No, I’m okay actually.” 

“Enjoy it, you won’t be young forever, doll,” Eddie told you as he fidgeted in his seat. 

“Yeah– yeah I know.” something deeper seeped into your voice, a seriousness coming through your words. “Can we talk? I know you wanted to last night, and I’m so so sorry, I’m so embarrassed that I–” 

“You’re all good, sweetheart,” Eddie responded and he heard you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Do you want to come over? I can send a car for you, come and pick you up?” Eddie asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer. 

“No I can just get a taxi, it’s okay.” Eddie already knew better than to argue with you, so he didn’t. “Where are you? Some fancy hotel for rich people I’m guessing?” 

Eddie chuckled, he liked it when you made fun of him, because he could always hear the adoration in your voice as you did, “yeah I’m at uh– the same hotel I was last time.” 

“Ah, yeah okay. So it’s okay for me to come over, you’re not busy?” You asked sweetly, nerves peeking their head. 

“No. Never.” Eddie told you. 

Eddie told you the floor and room number before you hung up. 

Shit. Okay. 

He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fuck this up again. 

.

.

.

The drive to the hotel was the longest you had ever experienced. Every emotion was running through your body as you rode the elevator to Eddie’s floor. Your leg bounced underneath you repeatedly as you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger. Eventually, the doors opened and you stepped out, smiling at a couple as they walked past you. 

You checked the number on each door until you reached the one Eddie had told you was his. 

You could still turn around. 

No. 

You were already knocking on the door. And you heard someone move around through the door. You realised you were scratching your hands and quickly dropped them to your sides before the door opened, and you saw Eddie standing there. 

He looked like he always did. Messy hair framed his face. Freckles dotted his nose and under his eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice alone could convince you to do anything he asked of you, it was one of those voices that managed to seep into your veins and completely engulf you. 

“Hey,” you responded, feeling that calm overtake you. The same calm and safety you felt whenever he looked at you, “Can I come in?” you asked when he didn’t say anything. 

He was taking you in. He was also going over everything he wanted to say to you. He was terrified. Truly. 

“Yeah– shit, yeah of course,” Eddie uttered, moving to the side to allow you to walk in. 

It wasn’t the same suite as last time. This floor was higher up, but it was almost identical. The same layout, the same rooms, the same corridor he had left you standing in. 

You walked in and made your way to where you knew the living room was, the same decadence overwhelmed you, and you had to take a minute to get used to it again. Eddie followed a couple of steps behind you - the air was thick with tension, neither of you entirely sure of what the other was about to say or do. 

You turned to look at Eddie and  inclined your head towards the couch, asking if it was okay for you to sit down. He nodded and you both sat yourselves down on either ends of the couch, enough space between the two of you for another person to fit there. 

The TV played silently, a movie playing that you didn’t recognise. The floor-to-ceieling windows that covered the wall to the side of you let sunlight drown the room in a warm golden glow. 

“I–”

“Do you-” 

You both cut yourselves off as you spoke over one another. It could have been an awkward moment, but the feeling faded into something sweeter. A tender moment that showed each other just how nervous you both were. For some reason, knowing Eddie was just as nervous as you were made you feel better. 

“Sorry, I just– I had some… stuff I wanted to to tell you, say to you.” Eddie told you, watching your face ccarefully. “If that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’m sorry, go ahead.” You settled back into the couch, lifting your legs and crossing them as you turned to face Eddie. 

“Okay I’m not promising I’m very good at articulating myself, or fuckin’ whatever, so you’re gonna have to give me a minute.” Eddie said, his voice shaky. 

“That’s okay.” you told him, your voice soft and bareilly above a whisper. His eyes had glazed over with something like fear, you wanted to lean across and rest a comforting hand on his, but you didn’t. Not yet. 

“That morning, when I left you–” you tensed up as the memory flooded back, Eddie noticed it too but carried on, “I have regretted that every day since then. I’ve done some really fucking stupid things, maybe one day I can tell you all of them, but that? Leaving you? That is the worst thing I have ever done.” 

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and he coughed before carrying on talking, giving himself a minute to gather himself. 

“I thought I would move on. Forget about you– and I know, that makes me sound like a complete asshole, but I’m tryna be honest here. I wanted to forget about you. I needed to. Because the way I felt when I looked at you, scared me so much I didn’t know what to do.” 

The emotions you were both feeling were palpable in the comforting silence of the room. You didn’t try and interject, letting Eddie talk. You had never heard his voice sound so genuine. Almost like every other time he had spoken he had been putting on a mask, pretending to be someone else- pretending to be the rockstar everyone so desperately wanted him to be. You liked this version of him a lot more. 

“When I was a kid my–” he paused for a minute, unintentional, as if he wanted to speak but he couldn’t form the words for a second, “my mom used to tell me that when you meet someone who makes you feel so happy it terrifies you, you should hold onto them.” 

“Because that’s when you know its real. She told me you couldn’t love someone without being scared to death at the same time. Because loving somsone? Fuck, it’s a big feeling, you know?” You laughed gently at that, for someone who famously wrote his own music he really did have an interesting choice of words, but you found it endearing. 

“It takes over every part of you and when she would tell me that, I thought she was lying, or something. Because if falling in love was so terrifying I didn’t understand why people would do it.” Eddie was moving his hands as he spoke, punctuating every word with a gentle movement. “And then I never felt that way, towards anyone. In forty years I never looked at someone and felt the world fall out from beneath my feet. And I was glad I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt that person.” 

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, your moth dropping open slightly to ask him what he meant. But then he was talking again, and you settled back into listening. 

“Sweetheart I am not here to try and emotionally blackmail you into staying, or being with me, or anything, okay?” Eddie’s voice went more serious, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you think he could see right through you and read every thought that was running through your mind. 

“And I’m not going to sit here and tell you some cliche sob story about how I had a shitty childhood and it fucked me up or anything.” You hadn’t realised it but you had moved closer to Eddie, your knees grazing each others as you listened to him talk. 

“I did have a crappy childhood- I mean it wasn’t the worst, by any means but it wasn’t an all-American family with a white picket fence, you know? My dad was- my dad was the worst man I’ve ever met in my life, he treated my mom like a fucking piece of shit and I hated him for it. I listened to them fight, argue, I would leave my bedroom door open so I could hear if I needed to go and help my mom.” 

You felt tears well in your eyes as he spoke. He was being completely honest with you. You could tell. This wasn’t easy for him to talk about. 

He had never spoken about this. 

“He’d hit her, do other things too but I remember when he would hit her. I remember the noise it would make. I would try and grab his arm but he would just swing back at me and throw me against the nearest wall– and I was a skinny kid you know? Fuck there was nothing of me, so I had no chance against him.” 

Eddie seemed to quickly realise how much he had just said, what he had admitted to you and his face dropped. “Fuck I– I only told you that because one day, after my mom had left, and we were fighting he told me that– he told me that I was just like him.” 

“He said when he looked at me, he saw himself. Which I didn’t understand at first, because I was the spitting image of my mom. Hair, the eyes, everything. But then he laughed and told me that one day I’d realise it too, that I was gonna be exactly like him, whether I wanted to or not.” Eddie shifted his body weight on the couch, moving his hand to rest over the back of it. 

“So that day I promised myself I would never fall in love with someone, because I would never put someone through what he put me and my mom through.” Eddie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he wasn’t crying but he obviously worried he was about to. 

When he didn’t carry on talking you said, “Eddie can I say something?” he nodded and you moved your hand to rest it on his knee that was next to yours, his eyes followed your hand movement and then flicked back up to yours when he realised what you were doing. 

“You just sat and told me that you’re biggest fear is turning into your dad, right?” Eddie nodded slowly, waiting to see what you were going to say. “But the fact that you just told me that? That means you are nothing like him.” 

Eddie swallowed a lum in his throat, “I don’t want to hurt you, in any way. But what if there’s something inside me that is just bad.” 

“What if there’s something inside of you that is just desperate to love and be loved?” 

Eddie moved his hand to rest over yours, and you interlaced your fingers together. 

“There’s more I want to tell you, but I can’t right now, I’m just not ready but I will, soon. And I will spend every minute of every day aplogizing for leaving you, for being an asshole to you at the diner, for everything. I promise you I–” 

‘Eddie, I know you will.” you truly did know that. 

“Okay.” his voice come out soft, gratefulness tinging his voice as he realised you genuinely meant it. And then an understanding flicked between the two of you. 

You two were far from perfect. This situation was far from a fairytale. And maybe to everyone else you would seem crazy for what you were about to do. But you didn’t care. Because when you looked at Eddie you felt the most terrified you have ever felt in your life, because you knew you wanted to see his face every day for the rest of your life.

Eddie knew that too. He knew there was no other option anymore. He had to wake up next to you every morning, he had to fall asleep next to you every night, and there was no other choice expect that. 

“Can you kiss me now?” you asked, a smile tugging on your lips and lighting your eyes up in a way that had Eddie falling head over heels all over again. 

“Yeah– yeah, sweetheart. Come here,” Eddie leaned forward at the same time you did  and cupped your face in both of his hands, you titled your head to the side and then all of the planets aligned and nothing else mattered except the press of his lips against yours. 

The kiss started off slow, sweet and deep like you were both trying to saviour this moment for as long as possible. Eddie’s lips moved gently against your own and you reached up to take one of his hands that was cupping your face, and interlace your fingers together. 

His lips were soft and you felt like you were floating on a sun-kissed cloud everytime he guided your head to the side, allowing him to kiss you harder, deeper. Soon enough that feeling built up inside you again and you took a leap of faith; opening your mouth and letting your tongue run softly over Eddie’s bottom lip, a desperate plead for more. 

Eddie pulled back, you leaned forward trying to chase his lips, and he couldn’t help the love that consumed him at the look of serenity that painted your face. You didn’t want to be away from him for even a second. And neither did he, but he didn’t want to ruin this, or seem like he only wanted one thing.

“Sweetheart– we don’t have to.” Eddie told you gently, his hand caressing your face and his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.  

“You don’t want to?” You asked, if he didn’t want to you would stop, of course you would. 

“No! I mean no, yes– I do want to, fuck of course I do. I just don’t want you to think-” 

“I don’t think that Eddie, I promise.” you cut him off before he could finish speaking, already knowing what he was about to say, the worry that flashed across his face told you everything you needed to know. A sickly-sweet smile spread across his face before he leaned back in to kiss you. Your lips moving against each others in perfect harmony, like this was what you were meant to do all your life. 

Eddie let his tongue run over your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss and your tongues met in a cataclysmic way, both of you desperate to taste each other. The kiss was fast and slow, deep and soft, it was everything you had been craving for the past seven months- even when you hated him, you couldn’t forget the way his lips had felt on yours. 

You could have been making out for five minutes or five hours, time had no meaning when you were with Eddie, it was all him and nothing else. But then you felt him push you back slightly, he relucatlanly pulled away from you, his lips still grazing yours as he told you to lie down. 

You did as he asked you to, clumsily manouvering your body until you were lay flat against the soft couch cushions, Eddie moving to lie on top of you. One of his hands rested on your waist, his fingers grazing the tiny slip of skin that was showing where your jumper had raised up. He rested his weight on his forearm next to your head, carefully moving your hair out of the way before he did so. 

You breathed him in as he lowered his mouth to your jaw, planting gentle kisses over your face. His hair fell around both of you, and if kissing Eddie felt like heaven then you didn’t have the vocolabury to describe what it felt like to be underneath him, completely consumed by everything that was so undeniably Eddie. 

His curly hair, his soft lips, the little sighs he let out when he kissed a new spot on your body, the way his ring-clad fingers graze your skin. It was as close to a religious experience that you would ever get. 

Eddie trailed kisses down your across your jaw and down your neck, you lent your head back further, giving him more room and you felt his lips turn up into a smile against your skin. 

Your hand raised to rest in Eddie’s hair as he kissed your neck, instantly finding your sweet spot again, as if no time had passed and every sound you had made and reacted to his every touch came flooding back to him as he tasted your skin. 

He was determined be soft with you. Take things slow and savour every moment. You were too, but then Eddie gently grazed your sweet spot with his teeth and you found yourself pushing his head further into his neck, desperate for his touch. 

Eddie listened to you, the hand on the back of his head told him everything he needed to know. He gently sucked a lovebite over your pulse point; the breathy moans that fell from your mouth were music to him, he would do whatever it took to hear those noises for the rest of his life. 

Eddie continued to mouth at your neck until he needed to kiss you again. He lifted his head from your neck only to be met your heavy eyelids, mouth slightly parted and a look of complete comfort on your face. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head back up to him. Your noses touching before he connected your lips, and you kissed like the world was ending tomorrow. 

This was perfect, but you needed more. You felt that familiar aching start to grow within you and you languidly moved one of your legs to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush against you. 

Your movement caused Eddie to falter in his kissing you, for just a second. And then he had his hand on your jean-clad thigh and he was carefully grinding his hips down into yours. Determined to keep the soft atmosphere you were both bathing in. You panted into each other’s mouths, neither of you kissing anymore, your lips only moving against each other because of the gentle movement of Eddie rocking against you. 

Neither of you said anything, you didn’t need to. Your soft pants and whimpers filling the soothing silence in the room. Both of you perfectly content to just take each other in, feel each other’s bodies move against each other, without any rush for more. 

You lasted like that for a while. Sweet kisses shared between the two of you. And then Eddie made one move with his hips that had you moaning louder than you had before, and suddenly it wasn’t enough. 

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. 

“Yeah, angel?” Eddie asked you, his own voice sounding fucked out already. 

“Need more,” Eddie pressed a kiss to your lips in response, he would give you whatever you needed. 

“Yeah? tell me sweetheart, I’ll give you whatever you need, you just need to tell me.” Eddie’s soft voice settled over you and tightened your grip on him, grounding yourself. Trying to remind you that was real. This was really happening. Eddie made you feel so safe that you didn’t feel any embarrassment in telling him what you needed. 

“I need- fuck, need your fingers, please.” Eddie whispered an okay and managed to slip his hands between your bodies, sitting up to undo the buttons on your jeans, his hands were shaking slightly. Yours were too. 

“Can you just lift your–” you did what he asked before he got the question out. Somehow, despite him lying over you, he managed to take your jeans and underwear off. You both laughed quietly when it became slightly awkward, both of you moving around as you needed to. Soon enough he had your jeans placed on the floor next to you. 

Eddie placed kisses along the top of your thigh, moving up to kiss over your waist and stomach, gently pushing up your jumper once you signalled it was okay for him to do that. He already had your pants off, and yet he wouldn’t even lift your top up without getting your permission again. 

Eddie was kissing every square inch of your body, his plump lips leaving sparks everywhere he touched you. As content as you were to bask in the affection, you really needed him to touch you. 

You tapped his shoulder and pulled him up to you, moving him where you wanted him, exposing his neck so you could kiss it. He let you, tilting his head to side and letting small breathless whines fall from his lips as yours caressed his neck. 

You felt his hand slip between your bodies again and then his fingers fell to between your legs and he ran them through your slit, gathering the wetness he found there and moving them up to your clit. 

“Fuck doll, you’re so wet, so fuckin’ perfect for me.” Eddie was breathless just from feeling how needy you were for him. He already knew he would never get over the affect he had on you. 

You moaned out in response and Eddie circled your clit. His fingers sedning sparks through your body, “Oh god– Eddie”.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, let it out. Let me hear you.” Eddie cooed at you, applying slightly more pressure and just barely speeding up, and  when your back arched off the sofa he smiled, knowing he’d found the perfect way to touch you. 

Eddie dipped down to kiss you, and you pulled him closer to you. You werne’t sure you would ever be close enough to him. He kissed you as his hand worked you to your breaking point, he swallowed your soft whimpers and moans, letting out little shh shh shh’s and comforting praise when you got too worked up. 

“Fuck oh my god– inside me, please Eds,” The nickname broke his heart and he kissed your forehead before dipping his two fingers down to press them gently inside you. 

The stretch of his two fingers was definitely there, but it was clouded by the pleasure that spread through your body, and the relief of him touching you the way you needed. 

“You’re okay, sweets?”  Eddie asked when he saw your eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed. But then you moaned and nodded your head with such certainty it would have been comedic if he wasn’t so completely enamoured by the way you were falling apart underneath him. 

He slowly started moving his fingers in you, your wetness making it feel even better. Eddie was barely even pulling them out of you, instead he rocked them gently inside you, and when he curled his fingers upwards you swear you died for a second. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. 

You were so despeate you knew from the start you wouldn’t last long, but he had barely been going for two minutes and you felt that knot get tighter in your stomach and you knew you were so close to being thrown over the edge. 

Eddie felt you get tighter around his fingers and he was grinding his hips down into your thigh without even realising he was doing it. Feeling his hips move against you was all you needed to send you to your breaking point, Eddie noticed instantly in the way your breath hitched. 

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” you nodded as he kissed your cheek, your nose, the side of your mouth; anywhere he could reach. “You can come angel, come on. Just let go for me, I’ve got you. Need to feel you come all over my fingers for me” 

His words sent you over the edge and you barely even recognised the sounds you let out, your ears were ringing and you were sure your vision blacked out for a second. Eddie never let up, working you through your orgasm, drawing it out for as long as possible, letting you ride it until it got to be too much. 

When it did, your hand flew down to his hand, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. Eddie carefully pulled his fingers out of you and your eyes went wide with need when he raised them to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off of them and dipping down to kiss you. 

The taste of yourself on his tongue was all-consuming. Eddie moaned against you and you pushed your hand between you to feel his cock through his pants. His hips stuttered and he swore under his breath.

“Fuck sweetheart, keep doing that.” Eddie practically begged you, and who were you to say no to such a pretty man begging you to touch him? 

You kept plaming him over his pants, he was moaning into his neck and when you undid his zipper to slip your hand underneath he almost bit down on the skin he was sucking on to stop himself from distrubing the rest of the hotel with the sounds that were falling from his mouth. 

“Shit, okay– I need to be inside you, angel. Is that okay?” Eddie asked, his eyes clouded with arousal and his skin flushed. 

You nodded and shorty after Eddie was pulling you up from your position on the couch. Eddie stood up and held his hand out for you. You took it and he led you to the bedroom across the hallway. Time slowed down as he delicately placed his hands on you hips and pulled you against him, kissing you as he placed his hand behind your head and lay you down onto the bed, climbing to rest on top of you. 

You kissed him until you felt him tense against you. You bit back a laugh at how desperate he was, he didn’t want to rush you, of course. But he was certain if he didn’t get inside you in the next two minutes he was going to go insane. He needed to feel you around him. 

You pushed Eddie’s shoulder and he pulled away from you to see what you were doing. 

“Fuck me, Eddie.” you said breathlessly. 

Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice. 

He backed off you to throw off his trousers and top and grab a condom. You watched him intensely and felt the wetness cover your thighs at the sight of him. 

You had almost forgotten how perfect he was. Almost. 

He moved back over you, kissing you as he wrapped your legs around his waist loosely. He guided himself into you, rubbing himself over your clit a couple of times until you were whimpering for him to please fuck you. 

He remembered the last time. How it took you a second to adjust to him. He was gentle as he pushed unto you a few inches. He stold your breath from you for a second, the stretch not feeling as painful as last time, instead you were already begging for more. Moving your hips to get him deeper. 

Eddie smiled and carried on pushing into you. Watching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, but it never came. Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips and your legs tightened around him as he bottomed out inside you. 

It felt so right. Nothing felt as right as Eddie being inside you. 

“Fuck, good girl– taking me so fucking well.” Eddie praised you as he began to move inside you, pulling out almost all the way and then back into you. 

He found the perfect rhythm. One that had you both whispering soft praises into each others mouths and had your nails digging into his back. His forearms were back on either side of his head as held his body weigh off of you. 

But when you whimpered out in protest at the small piece of space left between you he lowered himself, his chest flush against yours and his head buried in your neck. 

His ring-clad fingers held onto your thigh around his waist- despite the gentleness, you were sure you would have marks there afterwards. 

Eddie normally lasted a while, but being inside of you sent him flying towards his release ridiculously fast. He mouthed at your neck and when he hit that sweet-spot inside you, you let out a moan that could have made Eddie come there and then. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good– oh god,” his voice was muffled against your neck, never stopping pressing kisses into your skin. 

“You feel so good too, fuck Eddie.” 

Eddie wanted you to come again before him, he pushed one of your legs up, holding it against you and the change in position had you clawing at his back and pulling his head up so you could kiss him. 

You could tell Eddie was close by the whimpers he was letting out, his head dropping to rest against yours and you could hear him right in your ear, sending your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Fuck I want you to come for me, Eddie,” you whispered against his hair. 

He pulled up to look at you, he looked completely fucked out and you wondered how he hadn’t come already. 

“Want you to come first, angel, okay?” Eddie asked you, desperation seeping through his words. 

“No, no it’s okay. Please I want you to come. I need you to come for me, please baby–” 

Eddie mewled and you pulled him down into a fiery kiss, the gentleness that had permeated everything you had done before suddenly disappearing. 

“Jesus sweethear, you;re gonna kill me, oh fuck–” 

Eddie groaned and you felt his hips stutter against yours as he came. You ran your fingers through his hair as he came. His grip on your thigh loosening and your leg dropping back against the mattress when his whole body went limp. 

If he wasn’t already flush against you he would have collapsed. 

You both breathed heavily as he came down from his high. You don’t know how long you lay there for, but Eddie slid his arm underneath your back and pulled you impossibly tighter against you as his head found its place back in your neck. 

You were glad he was so fucked out, because you didn’t want him to pull out yet. You loved the feeling of him inside you. 

“Sweetheart?” Eddie said into your neck. 

You ran your nails along his scalp, humming in answer to his question, telling him you were listening. 

“Thank you, fuck you’re. I–” Eddie stopped himself when he looked at you. 

But you knew what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t yet. You understood. 

“I know. I know, Eddie.” You comforted him and he kissed you, his tongue running over your lips and you stayed like that for a while. Soft, deep kisses shared as you both came to terms with what had just happened. What it meant. 

Soon Eddie moved off of you, pulling out gently and tidying himself up. You expected him to come back with a warm washcloth to clean you up to. But when he walked back into the room he pulled you to the end of the bed and knelt down in front of you, pulling your legs over his shoulders. 

“Eddie, what–” 

“You didn’t come, sweetheart. That just won’t work.” Eddie said before he ran his tongue over your sensitive cunt and your hands dived into his hair and your back arched off the bed and the whole world seemed to go quiet again. 

His tongue ran through your slit, alternating between sucking on your clit and dipping his tonuge inside you. You mewled and whimpered and he held his arm over your waist to keep your body pressed to the mattress. But leaving you enough space to grind your hips into his face, he mewled and pulled back to tell you how good you were being for him, that he wanted you to use him until you were seeing stars. 

You didn’t last long after that. Your hand covered his that held your waist down and you threw your hea back, letting your hips mvoe against him and not hiding the moans that fell from your half-open mouth. 

“Oh fuck me, Eddie– I’m gonna–” 

“I know, come on angel, come for me.” 

That was all it took for you to go over the edge for the second time. Eddie worked you through your orgasm again, only moving his mouth away from you when you were physically pulling back from the overstimualtion. 

When you opened your eyes, as you felt the mattress dip around you, you saw Eddie. His star-flecked eyes looking at yours and you held him against you. 

No one else could ever make you feel the way he could. 

And no one else could make him feel the way you did. 

.

.

.

You and Eddie spent the rest of the day in bed together. Limbs tangled and your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he softly scratched your back whilst you talked about anything and everything. 

It didn’t matter what you were talking about, it just mattered that you two were together. 

You had sex a few more times that day, each time taking your breath away just like the first time. It was all slow and intended to show the other just how much you meaned to each other. 

You fell asleep that night completely exhausted. You wrapped yourself around Eddie and he felt sure this was how he would fall asleep for the rest of his life. 

You weren’t perfect. Neither of you were. But you didn’t want each other to be perfect- you just wanted you to be yourselves. And you were. 

There was a lot to figure out, Too many things you had to discuss and learn about each other. But for now, this was enough. 

And when you woke up the next morning, the sunlight hitting your faces from forgetting to shut the curtains, you only pulled the comforter over both do your heads. 

Eddie stirred awake and pulled you tighter against him, his arms wrapped around you and you settled back against him, your face in his neck as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, lulling you back to sleep.

.

.

.

thank you so much for reading! <3

taglist @harrys-four-nipples @choke-me-eddie @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @harrys-tittie @bestofbucky @somethingvicked @emma77645 @bebe0701 @bibieddiesgf @ganjas-shit @corkadymu @digitalhearts @specialsnowflake-gabbi @littlestarfighter03 @mandyjo8719 @hargrovesswifee @eddiesguitarskills @sunnytkm23 @bpj519 @ajeff855 @sebastiansstanswhore @marriedtoeddie @manda-panda-monium @kissmyacdc @tayhar811 @husherstan @teary-eyed-egg @ourautumn86 @whenshelanded @alana4610 @tabloidteen @tobesolovelysstuff @damon-loves-pie @georgiapeaches-world @josephsfavoritegirl @angel-jz @kittenslovie @boinkybarness @sadpetalsstuff @sashaphantomhive @winterton-reads @hermadroyalhiney @loveberrie (i'm sorry if you asked to be on the tag list and you're not here, it got chaotic and i tried my best 🤍)

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Rain/Payu) 2

Because I'm petty, I had the crowd pick which blacklisted shows I would watch for the month of Pride. The first is Love in The Air, and even though I was mad in the first few episodes that Sky brushed off his friend running away from Payu at the beginning, Sky has proven he is a great friend, and I am very excited to get to his portion. Sorry, Rain. This Daddy x Baby dynamic needs to speed it up!

Let's wrap this stormy weather up!

If I was the receptionist, I'd love this job for the chisme. If I was a mechanic, I'd be pissed!

So all of this was a another test. Rain is proving himself to Payu as being worthy of his time and affection by ignoring Payu being mean to him, so even though there is definitely something happening with the yellow and blue between them, I'm ignoring it because Payu is HIGH-KEY pissing me all the way off, and I'm too focused on this room situation. Does this man have his garage room and actual house room?! What is this?!

LET ME IGNORE THEM, BABY JESUS!

Black x White. Blinding Light of Love. And just like that, I'm on my fellow Slut for Christ's side because WHY IS RAIN JUST STANDING OUT IN THE RAIN LIKE A DUMMY?! Miracles happen when we least expect them.

I am not feeling this bathing scene because there is not enough water in that huge ass tub, and out of all the things Payu should apologize for, he is saying sorry that Rain stood out in the rain. Can they just have sex already, so I can quit being petty?

God damn it! There is pink = 💕love💕 but I am very familiar with this scene because it was all over my dash when it aired, and I'm a bag of mixed emotions. Payu hid that condom under a toy truck, but opened it with his teeth, yet he kissed Rain's leg, so like . . . shit, Payu looks fine with his hair down.

The beginning of episode five is just horny on main from Rain telling his MOTHER that he was working on something else that was hard all night, and now we're just watching Payu work out before he peaces out in Payu's blue shirt only to end up in this! I refuse to acknowledge the colors because how did Payu find this boy AND WHY ARE THEY SCREWING AROUND IN HIS MAMA'S HOUSE?!

😬😬😬

Payu already claimed Rain to his face, followed him to his mama's house, and has gotten ultra possessive, yet Rain is freaking out thinking Payu is trying to ditch him. Rain is too smart to be this dumb.

A WHOLE ASS GIRL IS IN THIS SHOW! And Rain is just insulting her and her brothers after pining after her - "fruits" - really, Cloud Jizz?

The way I'm mad at these colors is the same way I'm mad at Rain for being upset that other people like his boyfriend. These two were made for each other.

STOP IT!

Number one rule of illegal race club is we don't talk about illegal race club.

I'm ignoring the wife talk the same way I'm ignoring the colors and the singing. I am God's strongest solider.

This legit should be the end of their arc and the fact that it is not just so Rain can get kidnapped is irritating me (yes, I know he gets kidnapped because my dash said so when it was airing).

Oh, look, a sweet flashback telling me they were meant for each other right before RAIN GETS KIDNAPPED!

These colors are on my fucking neck!

*eyes popping out of my head because the colors won't let me be* Yeah, yeah, yeah. He's gonna rip that suit off of you later and fuck you on the stairs of death then ride you. Yeah, we've all heard about it, now can we get to the kidnapping plot?

The colors are coloring on these two kinksters with Payu's "I like the sound, but not to ride" line like we don't all know what that means. So glad they found each other, but WHERE IS THE KIDNAPPING?! Does it not happen in this episode?! I thought there were only six episodes in each arc. Am I watching seven of just Rain ask the same damn questions of if they like each other?! Sonsito!

The colors are coloring so hard with Rain in his white tank and pink boxers (that he wore the first time they had sex) drinking white milk and Payu in his black shirt with his black tea cup and blue jacket hanging out on the chair. I HATE IT!

THE KIDNAPPING! The title card was "Sky After Rain" so let's move this along and give me my boy already! But also, if Rain was a rich bitch, this would've never happened! A delivery man asking for help? Um . . . better go find a buddy because rich bitches don't do manual labor. Finally, I appreciate that Payu's wild ass behavior of demanding Rain answer his calls paid off by him knowing something was up when Rain didn't answer. Now can we murder this bastard already for taking this awful picture?!

A comedian said that people only kneel for two reasons: God and dick, so this man is a dick who is about to meet God because he just said that he would have his men sexually assault Rain?! DRACARYS!

I have never been more excited to see the Bed Friend baddie! Not only because he is about to end this man's life, but also because he interrupted these two love birds making googly eyes at each other in the middle of a crime scene! And now Rain just said Payu was the only one who could screw him. WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS?!

Rain is clearly a words-over-actions guy, but at this point it is OBVIOUS that Payu loves him, so I would tell him I don't love him just to be mean.

And now Rain is telling Payu he would harm him if he cheats. WITH WHOM?! The damn mechanic who has to keep running interference between you two AT HIS JOB?! Y'all are such a mess and fully belong together.

Oh thank goodness, it's my sweet summer child Sky finally!

And his red devil because Prapai has to be the red to his bestie's blue, no?

See, Rain is triflin' because Sky did not snitch on him dating Payu, yet Rain gave up his number quick. This is why I ignored their colors because Rain knows this is wrong, but at least it FINALLY gets me more Sky on my screen. The End!

HE FUCKED UP HIS CAR ON PURPOSE?! WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK, PAYU?! YOU HAD THIS BOY INDEBTED TO YOU FOR WHAT?! BECAUSE HE WAS PRETTY AND YOU WANTED HIM?! WHAT WERE THE REASONS, PAYU?! WHAT?! WERE?! THE?! REASONS?!

*takes off my glasses* These after scenes got me all the way fucked up, and even though I was fine with how they ended in the car this episode, now I'm mad as hell that Payu just offered up this fun little tidbit that he jacked up Rain's car so he could see him again at the very end.

🤡

Pushes play on episode eight

[adoristsposts]

hi i love your writing! could you possibly do justin herbert and reader breaking up but then they rekindle and it’s a happy ending?

author's note; anons treating me so well u guys have better ideas than i do icl summary; alcohol and not being over your ex doesn't exactly mix well- unless, of course, your ex seems just as hung up on you. word count; 1K warnings; drinking, swearing characters; Reader x Justin Herbert

You let a loud sigh escape your lips the second your apartment door shut behind you. You placed a palm on the door, using it for support as you slipped off your heels and let your bare feet sink into the carpeted floor. "Jesus," you muttered to yourself. Without missing a beat, you headed to your fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. You set your purse down on the kitchen island and, wine bottle in hand, padded over to the couch. You turned it on and, of course, your ex-boyfriend's face filled the screen. "It was just a flesh wound." He told the press before you could switch the channels. Your hand paused, hovering over the Netflix icon you had been meaning to press. A flesh wound? You couldn't stop yourself from pulling your phone out and googling it. Three years later you were unable to resist the need to know he was okay. His dismissal of it on television seemed reasonable, you decided as you scrolled through a few articles. But then a few articles became a highlight reel. And then media posts. And then his Instagram. He still followed you from back when the two of you had dated. You remembered his management encouraging him to make the account, and how, despite the fact he didn't run it, he had made sure you were one of the few hundred he followed back.

The split had been amicable. Your post-college heart had been absolutely broken, but Justin was moving to LA and you couldn't handle the distance. The two of you tried keeping in contact for a few months, but the second he was spotted with another woman you shut down. By the time you had sorted out your feelings for him, it felt too embarrassing to reach out. Now, ironically, you were in LA. And you wished you had held on to contact. Because god damn was dating in LA boring. The one you had just returned from had entailed a Chiefs fan mansplaining football to you and complaining about Taylor Swift- all because you had peeked past his shoulder to get a look at the Niners' score. You forced yourself to close your phone. You stood up and walked over to the closest mirror, checking yourself out. You had done your hair and makeup and picked a cute outfit- even worn heels!- just for the guy to be a tool. You smoothed out your shirt. Fuck it, you told yourself. You texted your best friend. Wanna go out? Absolutely, bitch. She replied.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. How you had gotten home, or what exactly had happened the night before, you had no idea. You groaned loudly and leaned over to grab your phone off the nightstand. The notifications that greeted you were so mortifying you were sure you were going to puke. Seven missed calls from Justin, three voicemails, and five text messages. There was no chance in hell you were looking at any of those. You took an everything shower, blew out your hair, painted your nails, and made yourself food. Who knew that your ex-boyfriend could be so helpful when it came to working through a hangover? Finally, hours later, you had to check. The time without your phone- although you hated to admit it- was driving you crazy. You could only sit through so much without wanting to check it. And you were sure your best friend had to be worried you had choked on your own vomit at this point.

You responded to her texts first, with a simple 'I think I drunk called Justin.' You ignored her frantic texts and clicked on his first voicemail. "Hey." His voice sent shivers down your spine. There was something so homely about the way he sounded. Like hearing an old favorite song. "I think you drunk called me. My hand's fine, thanks for asking. Just a sprain, it'll be fine by the end of our by week. " Ever polite. When Justin first stepped into the spotlight, so many people questioned his personality and whether he would be fit to lead a team as their quarterback. He had never cared. He always dismissed it with a quiet wave. He was how he was, and you had loved him for it. The voicemail cut out there, and you played the next one. "Sorry," He began, because what else would he start out with? "I can't stop listening to what you sent me. I know you're drunk, but you said you haven't gotten over it- just in case you don't remember in the morning- and I haven't either. Just thought you should know." A click. You cringed. You truthfully didn't remember a moment of it. You understood now how the prohibition had happened. The last one. "Ok, I swear this is it." He laughed. The sound was like stepping under a warm ray of sun on a cold day. "I miss you. Text me when you wake up- I'm sorry for blowing up your phone. You said you were in LA? We should reconnect."

You put your phone face down and ran a hand over your face. Reconnect. With your ex-boyfriend. That you still weren't over. You texted your best friend. She responded with a bunch of messages that all had the same point; 'absolutely, you dumbass, you are still so in love with him and i'm sick of hearing about it.'

You swiped out of her messages and opened Justin's, which were full of concerned texts and him asking for you to text him when you got home to ensure you were safe. You bit your lip to try and control your smile. I'm free anytime this week. Coffee?

[bordysbae]

can you do 8. “are they fighting again?” “worse, they’re kissing” with Alex Turcotte?

“round what?”

alex turcotte x reader

warning: cursing, slight mention of underage drinking

you and alex never end on good terms. you’ve never actually dated, but everyone knows you guys are only interested in each other. but somehow the both of you managed to mess up the two other previous attempts at being a thing. alex being the first one to mess up used the excuse of ‘well we aren’t dating,’ and you used the same one on him two months later.

you met through a friend group, and the group has been awkward ever since you and alex ended, again, nearly a month ago. if the group decides to hang out, they always do it when either you or alex cant come. there has been a few times where you and alex are there at the same time, but you avoid speaking cause it just causes problems. as you’ve learned from past experiences.

“alex can you stop glaring at me when i talk to jack? jesus, i’m not allowed to talk to my friend?” you scofffed in the beecher-family kitchen.

“i just don’t appreciate seeing my ex all over my best fucking friend,” he shrugged.

“your ex? we never even dated alex! you’re so self absorbed it’s crazy honestly,” you angrily chuckled.

“we basically dated, you can’t tell me we were nothing,” the dark haired boy stated before he sipped the water from his glass.

“you’re joking right? you literally used the excuse ‘we’re not even dating,’ alex! this is so stupid, i was literally just talking to jack. you’re so fucking insecure, i cant deal,” you rolled your eyes as you exited the kitchen.

but now you’re sat at the group event with a raspberry white claw in your hand. being in the same room as alex is going fine, until someone gets the bright idea to play truth or dare. “turcs, truth or dare?” trevor asks with a devilish smile on his face.

“dare, i’m not a wuss,” he cockily shrugs before taking a sip of his beer. a few ‘ooh’s can be heard, making alex’s massive ego inflate ever larger.

“good answer! i dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with y/n,” he smirks, making both you and alex’s eyes go wide.

“what?! hell no man! no offense y/n,” alex says, turning to face you during the last part of his sentence.

“none taken,” you mumble making jack push his shoulder into yours.

“alex, i thought you said you weren’t a wuss? you know if you skip the question you have to shoot fireball, right?” cole chimes in, making alex groan. he rises from his spot on the L shaped couch in the hughes’ family basement, and he gives you an ‘im sorry’ look as you stand up as well. trevor sets his timer as he locks you both in the closet.

you sit on the floor by the coats, and alex sits against the wall in front of you. your legs are stretched out by his waist, his doing the same. you can’t help but notice the small hole forming in his gray socks as you avoid eye contact with the boy. “i’m sorry,” he blurts out, drawing your attention from his socks to his face.

“for what?”

“everything, y/n. i’ve always been such a dick to you, even when we were talking. but god do i miss you,” he admits as an adrenaline high begins to form from the nerves.

“you do?” you hesitantly question.

“of course i do. do you even realize how much i liked you? hell y/n, i still do. i hated myself for hooking up with that girl at the party, and instead of admitting my wrongs i used some dumb excuse. and then i changed myself for you, but when we started talking the second time you hooked up with that guy. which really hurt. i know it shouldn’t have, but that’s when i truly realized how much i had hurt you when i was the one did it. so yeah, i miss you. a lot,” alex rambles.

your face heats up, and you scoot across the closet closer to him. you readjust yourself so that you’re sat next to him, and turn to look up at him slightly. he then leans in, and you connect your lips to his. you guys continue kissing for a moment, until trevor unlocks the door and gasps. he snickers before closing the door and heading back to the group in the other room.

“i’m so done with them!” trevor groans as he sits back down on the couch.

“are they fighting again?” cole asks.

“worse, they’re kissing!” trevor chuckles, making everyone’s eyes widen and a few laughs escape.

“this round what, like.. seven?” johnny teases.

“it’s round three, but hey third times a charm!” jack shrugs, just as you and alex walk back into the room.

[analoceits]

love bites CH. 1: new blood

A03 LINK

Virgil leaned against the headboard and sighed. The apartment was strangely silent, and not in a pleasant way. It seeped into his bones and rested there, choking his lungs. It was the type of quiet that made him cry as a kid, because he could hear his blood flowing and his heart beating and he could feel how fragile both were..

At least he couldn’t hear either now.

Whatever. That was irrelevant. He was thinking about the quiet, because that meant Logan was gone and it was stressing him out. Logan had warned him, of course - some kind of after school program his professor had offered him that meant he would be staying a little later. Even if he knew why though, it didn’t stop his thoughts from racing.

Virgil had protested when Logan brought it up. Lo, jesus christ, that late? Seriously? C’mon, that is a disaster waiting to happen- what if you get lost? Or, you could get stolen away by some creepy guy, or you could get fucking mugged, or- (Or Bitten.)

But Logan, as comforting as ever, reached a hand up and gently patted his shoulder, stating, the cities crime rate is particularly low. That’s why we both chose to live here, isn’t it? I will be completely alright. To give you extra assurance, I’ll inform you when I leave so you can ‘freak the fuck out’ as you said if I’m not home in thirty or so minutes, ok?

As promised, the text had arrived twenty-seven minutes ago. Logan should be home any minute now. Virgil sighed, laying back against the headboard. Logan’s words were absurdly comforting. It shouldn’t be allowed, really. It’s as if Logan had stolen the voice of an angel somehow, and used it just to speak to Virgil in the softest way.

For the approximately 100th time since the realization had hit Virgil a number of months ago, that thought ran through his head again. Despite every warning and caution against, Virgil had fallen hopelessly, and desperately in love with a mortal.

The thought sent a miserably defeated let delighted sigh through him, before it was cut off by the front door pulling open and promptly slamming shut so hard that it shook the apartment. Virgil shot straight up, fear striking through his ribs, head spinning to the vague direction of the noise, “Logan?” He yelled across the apartment.

There was no answer.

“Logan!” He repeated, the force in his voice stronger this time.

Logan did not answer. Logan always answered.

Virgil was running before he really knew it, his body moving with unnatural stiff perfection, any passing thought of seeming human escaping him as his feet slammed against the floor. He flung around the corner in less than a second and caught his eyes on a figure.

No, not a figure, it was Logan. It was Logan, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes and only then between his terror and relief did Virgil remember there were actually reasons why he had to seem human. A major one being to not terrify his very human roommate

After a brief, embarrassed glance down that resulted in him seeing black, smoking marks in the tile (they were not getting their deposit back now) he looked back up and spoke, still unsure if he was embarrassed or terrified. “Logan, are you ok? Did something happen? You could’ve called me, you know-” Logan raised his hand to cut Virgil off, and Virgil hesitantly obliged.

In what was becoming a pretty concerning pattern - Logan still did not speak.

They both stared at each other in an awkward, tense silence. It’s like they were playing a game of chicken where Virgil was trying to not open his mouth again, and Logan was trying to remember what words were. Virgil barely resisted the urge to reach for him as the silence drew on.

Finally, finally because Virgil might fucking die - die again - if he didn’t hear the nerds voice right then, Logan spoke. “I am alright.” He said, but the words shook as he spoke them, “.. I didn’t know you could run that fast, Virgil.”

Virgil resisted the urge to cringe so hard his fangs would dig into his bottom lip, and instead responded with a very hesitant, “I didn’t know you liked slamming doors all of a sudden, but here we are.” Despite his best efforts, the words held more concern than annoyance.

Logan did actually cringe at that, seemingly having less self control than Virgil which - jesus, when did that happen? - but he managed to force out an answer. “I apologize, it was just stress,” he said and Virgil could see it - he looked strikingly pale. As pale as Virgil had been all those years ago. 

The thought sent a viscous nausea through him.

“So..,” Virgil started, picking over his words carefully, because Logan for the first time was the fragile one of the two of them and Virgil couldn’t stand himself if he broke Logan while he was like this, “you aren’t alright, are you?” He asked in his best soft voice, taking a hesitant step forward.

Despite his attempt at softness, Logan took the words viscerally, entire body tensing as he stepped back. As if Virgil had just torn him open for all to see. “I am fine.” He responded tersely, and Virgil was pretty sure the tension in the room might kill them both.

Virgil hated this, he decided suddenly. Whatever the fuck was happening, he hated it. He hated Logan staring at him like a terrified puppy, and he hated trying to advance on him like he was animal control. “Logan, something is clearly wrong. I’m worried. Please, please just let me help. This once?”

Logan stared at him, thinking over the words seemingly - and then he tried to run. He was running across the floor - and when the fuck did he learn to run that fast - then Virgil was grabbing him by his wrist, cringing with guilt at the way Logan made a pathetic half-shriek in his throat at that.

Virgil held on loosely, knowing it wasn’t a fight in the first place. Humans always felt weak against him now, it took more focus to not hurt them than it did, really. Even if it made him sick to think about, Logan didn’t really have a chance against him. Virgil took a deep breath.

Then Logan tore out of his grasp with a sudden strength Virgil didn’t know he had, pushing Virgil off hard enough to make him stumble before spinning around and starting to scramble with his rooms door. Virgil was frozen for a brief moment. That shouldn’t be possible. How was that possible?

His mind caught up eventually, and suddenly Virgil reached out and pulled Logan away from the door, holding tight to him with a strength that would have usually crushed his ribs. “Logan, Logan, what the utter fuck-” Virgil hissed under his breath, dragging him into the living room.

Logan kicked against him with that scary force again, but he was unfocused - even if he was.. stronger, somehow, he clearly hadn’t learned to use that strength at all. After a few moments, Logan calmed down enough for Virgil to hold him just by his wrists.

The way that Logan pulled against him, trying to use all the force in his body, reminded Virgil viscerally of himself freshly turned.

Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about his turning and being a vampire cause he was pretty sure that was just making things worse, actually. Instead, he needed to focus on the problem in front of him - the shaking fucking mess of his roommate he was trying to subdue.

Virgil choked down his best approximation of a deep breath and tightened his grip around Logan’s wrists as gently as he could until he could feel Logan stopping his attempts at struggle. It felt - mean, really shitty actually, but something was deeply fucking wrong and he was not leaving it. He couldn’t take the risk.

Even if he wasn’t struggling against Virgil, though, Logan was clearly struggling to breath and Virgil knew they weren’t going to have any of the good conversation he wanted while Logan was having a panic attack.

“Hey, bud,” he started tentatively, trying his best to speak to the shaking mass of Logan, “I got you, don’t worry.” He said before adding a few clicks after - he knew humans couldn’t hear them, but it was still instinctual. Even if Logan couldn’t hear them, Virgil would swear he relaxed a little after he did them - maybe Janus was right about his theory that humans could sense them subconsciously.

Slowly, painfully, over a number of minutes Virgil did not bother to count, Logan calmed down. His panicked wheezes turned to shaky but deep breaths and the tenseness slowly leaked out of him. That lost look in his eyes slowly became more aware, gaze focused on the tile. Virgil gave an encouraging smile, “there you go.”

Then, without a singular fucking warning, Logan lunged at him. Virgil didn’t even think to fight back, instead just standing dumbly as he felt what were now obviously baby fangs try to dig into his skin for blood that wasn’t there. Blood that hadn’t been there for years.

Logan choked out a shriek and pulled back sharply, looking at Virgil with overwhelming guilt and terror. “I- Virgil, I’m so sorry, that was unintentional I wouldn’t ever hurt you- I didn’t- Virgil-” his voice broke and he was clearly begging now, as Virgil just stood there, processing the shock.

As soon as he processed it, though, he was moving. He reached out and grabbed Logan, practically dragging him to the couch and throwing him at it. “Stay here,” he hissed, a million thoughts screaming through his head as he ran through the kitchen.

The loudest was in Janus’s voice. You had barely five minutes to live after that bite, if I hadn’t helped.

He was by the fridge and his hands were in the icy cold that he couldn’t even feel anymore and he was grasping around for a feeling of a latch, a secret compartment tucked away in the back of the fridge fucking hell where was it-

His finger caught on something and he pulled on it so hard the compartment door snapped and clattered to the floor with a slam. He did not care, his hands awkwardly grasping for the first thing he could grab. There was a bag of blood in his hands and he was moving, darting  for the living room.

Somewhere between the living room and kitchen he tore the bag. He must’ve, because there was blood pouring onto his fingers and onto the floor and it did not matter for a second, nothing mattered but getting too Logan. 

He dropped to a knee by Logan’s side, and he looked painfully, horrifically pale now. Virgil could see the way he struggled to breath, one hand grasping at his neck, this time not with fear but from the creeping death Virgil knew was approaching him. Virgil reached out, his bloody hands were on his jaw and he was tilting his head back and-

He poured the blood into Logans mouth, practically covering them both in red. Time stumbled back into place as he did, Virgil able to hear the telltale way Logan desperately choked down the blood. Virgil dug his nails into the couch, pulling himself up. It was all he could do to stop himself from physically tackling Logan.

Everything was slower now, every movement drawn out and Virgil took a shaky breath through his dead lungs. He was so indescribably happy he could breath again, that everything was alright, that Logan would be okay. They were okay.

Then his eyes drifted down to the literal blood on his own hands and he was leering again.

Not quickly like moments ago, no- time slowed around him, the whole force of it pressing against as his back just to indulge in his misery, his shame. Because Virgil had just done the worst thing he could do. He was just as bad as he thought he would become.

Technically, he didn’t. Virgil, for all intents and purposes did not turn Logan. No, that process was started for him by someone else. Someone who Virgil was going to slaughter, going to watch them choke and die starved of blood just like the fate they almost damned his Logan too- 

But Virgil had ended the process.

Without even giving Logan a choice. A horrible false choice; a choice between an instant death and a stretched out, painful eternity neither of which he would fully understand, but some semblance of choice. Instead, without asking he poured the blood in his mouth he damned Logan just like he had been damned and-

Logan hugged him. His arms were around Virgil’s torso and he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, gasping into his chest and getting more blood all over the both of them. Virgil stood, his arms by his side dumbly as he processed it and then he hugged him back, holding him in what was practically a death grip.

After a long, tender moment Logan pulled himself up, wriggling out of Virgil's hold embarrassedly. His cheeks were flushed red and he glanced down at the couch with wide eyes. Virgil could not fucking believe Logan had the emotional capacity to be embarrassed over a hug after everything that had just happened.

Virgil eventually fully let Logan go, sitting down beside him on the couch. He took a deep steadying breath and glanced up at Logan with the best reassuring smile he could muster.

Logan gave him a similar, if shakier smile back and Virgil could swear, for just a second, they might actually end up ok. Even if things were gonna be utterly terrible for a while they might, by some fucking miracle, be ok. Of course they would. They were together.

“So..,” Logan awkwardly pawed for the coffee table in front of them, grabbing a notepad and pen with shaky hands. He clicked the pen, turning back to Virgil. “Would the correct terminology be ‘vampirism’?” He asked, pen hovering over paper. Virgil blinked, and then started cackling so hard he was worried he would damage something.

Logan glared at him with withering embarrassment, but Virgil knew it held no heat behind it. He was pretty sure at the moment neither of them knew how to be mad at each other. After a moment, Virgil managed to nod through his cackles.

As soon as Virgil managed to officially calm down - which took a solid minute and a half, by his guess, he looked to Logan and gave him a reassuring smirk, feeling much more calm than just a few minutes ago. Ok. They were gonna be okay. “Sorry. I’m sorry, really, mean it,” he forced out with only a few giggles, “anything else?”

Logan squinted his eyes at him for a long second, still holding onto his annoyance from Virgil's reaction, but he eventually relented, “well, I.. have a list,” Virgil snorted again and Logan pointedly ignored it, “but firstly.. how long have you been 21?” He queried, looking to Virgil with curiosity.

“First thing,” Virgil started, “utterly fuck you for indirectly quoting Twilight at me.” That managed to startle a laugh at Logan, which made Virgil practically preen with delight. “Second thing, I was turned like five years ago-” Logan gave him a surprised look, and Virgil raised a finger before he continued, clarifying.“- when I was 18.”

Logan hummed acknowledgingly, scribbling something down on the notepad and then responding with a curt, “so, if you had aged normally, you would be around 23 at the moment, correct?” Virgil gave a casual nod. He would say he was 23, honestly, but that was a technicality.

“Yup,” he said and then suddenly he was grinning, realizing he got to do something very funny, “which means I’m now the oldest in the apartment. Bitch.” He added and the satisfaction was so much he was a small bit worried he might manage to actually drown in it.

Logan gave him a look with wide, mortified eyes, and then groaned, head in his hands. “Out of all the things that could come out of this..” He said, seemingly half to himself and half to Virgil. Virgil snickered.

“Nah,” Virgil said playfully, “there are a lot of things worse than that, like not seeing the sun ever again - I promise you that, pocket protector,” he spoke without a single thought and then looked back over, cringing seeing the sudden pained look on Logan’s face. Shit. That was the worst thing he could’ve said, wasn’t it? 

Virgil reached out, trying to think of something to say to make it better, but Logan waved him off, eyes focused on some invisible point in the middle distance. “Yeah, there is a lot worse,” he said under his breath, and Virgil wasn’t sure who exactly he was speaking too. “This is going to be horrible, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered honestly, “it’s going to really suck.” He reached out, starting to gently rub circles into Logans back. This time, he didn’t refuse the touch, instead just slightly leaning in to it. “You’ll survive though,” Virgil said, “I mean, I did and I’m a fucking wreck?”

Logan choked out a laugh at that, rubbing his face off before sitting back up, leaning away from Virgil’s touch again. “I’ll uh, keep that in mind.” He said with a small smile. After a second, he dropped back to a more serious tone, “whats.. next? What do we need to do now?” 

Virgil sighed miserably, because he knew the answer and coincidentally fucking hated it. He hated every part of it with his whole being and how much of a trainwreck it would be. “Very fucking simple,” he said, annoyance already building as he pulled out his phone, and started dialing the number in.

“I have to call fucking Janus.”

[oneluckygoose]

FinnLo Math

Hi, welcome to Lucky's hyper fixation at the current moment

For the past two weeks I have binge read Sweater Weather, Vaincre, and Coast to Coast by the lovely @lumosinlove and just want to say, Jesus Christ. I have actually fallen in love with O'Nutzy SO HARD and they are amazing and I'm absolutely a slave to Harvard Era FinLo. To @lumosinlove, this is a masterpiece and now I want to watch hockey, you've infected me.

Anyway, with credits out of the way, I did some math, (get ready for Harvard era FinLo math under cut)

*Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I did not create this story, so everything I say may be completely incorrect. Any of this may be disproven in Breakaway, which I don't/won't have the ability to read. Most of this is based off cannon times and events within the Sweater Weather universe, but I have made clear where cannon ends and my assumptions begin. Again, these are not my characters and all credit goes to @lumosinlove, This is not making fun of, patronizing, or degrading the all around fantastic story they have created, and is simply pointing out things I have noticed.*

Now in Coast to Coast, I noticed some strange things that Finn says. He tells Logan he's been in love with him for eight years, right? And over the course of the story Logan mentions he's loved Finn for 7 at some point (that may actually be in Vaincre, if it is the math lines up so that's a testy point). And when they kissed in part V of Coast to Coast it said it had been four years since they last kissed. This threw me off, because I knew this was, what, early January of 2020 in universe.

So I did some digging. Finn is a year older than Logan, meaning when Logan came to Harvard in 2014 (codified in Coast to Coast part VII, the very start, includes sexy Batman during Logan's first Halloween party at Harvard), he would have been a Freshman while Finn was a Sophomore.

Now it isn't clear whether their first kiss in 2015 was when at the end of the 2014-2015 school year or the start of the 2015-2016 school year (though Logan doesn't have a car, so that lends a little more credibility to Logan still being a Freshman, but it kinda seems like Logan never has a car in general, even in Sweater Weather and Vaincre). I tend to think it's the start of the 2015-16 school year because that's when Finn met Hanna, and those sorts of things don't really carry over after being apart for the summer. Anyway, this means it would be Finn's Junior year.

Now their last kiss before Finn leaves is supposedly in May of 2016, which was part II in Coast to Coast, but that doesn't make sense because it is stated that they are only one year apart,

[I'm pretty sure at least. Later in Coast to Coast it mentions Finn's rookie year and it's said that it was only one (1) really bad year without Logan (same goes for Logan as a senior) before Logan is drafted to the Lions after he graduates. This means they're only one year apart, so the 2016 thing I believe to be wrong]

and if you do the math with Logan being a Freshman in the 2014-2015 school year, he would be a Junior when Finn is a Senior in the 2016-2017 school year (I have a whole timeline trust me on this, it'll be at the bottom). So theoretically their last kiss would have been in May of 2017.

Now their next kiss in in January of 2020. Based off of the very beginning of Sweater Weather, the time period of the fic is the 2019 NHL season, so starting in September, it would be January of 2020 when Remus and Sirius' photos got leaked, right before All-stars, which Logan was going on. The same day the photos are leaked, Finn and Logan kiss for the first time since May of 2017.

If you tally it up, it would be 2 years and 7 months since they had last kissed: Seven months left in 2017, plus all of 2018 and 2019 {Essentially (7+12+12)/12}. Notably, not four years.

[If we are going on the timeline where the last kiss is in 2016, it would be 3 years and 7 months, which would be much more reasonable to say four years; however, that timeline is a little jacked so.]

The other thing that threw me off is Finn saying he'd been in love with Logan for eight years, which I also believe to be wrong.

Finn says to Logan when they are officially getting together in part V of Coast to Coast that he'd loved Logan for eight years, which doesn't make sense if they only just met in August of 2014.

To put it simply, they wouldn't have known each other for eight years. Again, if you tally it up, that's five months in 2014, five years, and then about half a month in 2020. {Essentially (5 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 1/2) / 12}. Let's just say they've known each other for 5 years and 6 months. Again, not eight years.

There is the concern of not loving each other when they first met, but Finn does say that he had loved Logan since the moment he saw him at the training camps in 2014, which would have been when they first met, so we can disregard any buffer time.

[And I am about 90% sure that August of 2014 was when they first met because during the Halloween party scene in part VII of Coast to Coast Logan talks about how Finn is his "new roommate" and they'd only just met. I could be wrong.]

And about Logan saying he'd loved Finn for seven years, I don't remember if it is in Coast to Coast which ends in 2020 or in Vaincre which goes until summer of 2021. If it is in Vaincre, this is a totally moot point because it's correct for about 7 years, but if it's in Coast to Coast (thinking on it now it may even be in Sweater Weather, either one would be off), then it wouldn't have been 7 years, but anywhere between 5-6 years. I would need to go back and find the part.

Other Interesting Math Things I figured out while Hyper fixating:

Alex O'Hara:

In Vaincre it says that Alex had to come from somewhere other than Harvard to see Finn in the hospital after he had gotten his first concussion, meaning he wasn't attending Harvard at the time. Vaincre also introduces a whole gang of people who were all on the Harvard team at the same time, which included Alex and Logan. So there had to be at least one year where they were on it together, and I assume it's probably Logan's freshman year.

When Finn's concussion happens is never explicitly stated, but I am assuming it's Finn's Junior year based on Finn and Logan's relationship at the time (pinning and extremely reserved while not awaiting Finn leaving (all this is coming from Logan talking about the concussion in Vaincre)).

With all this to say, I can assume Alex was a Senior in the 2014-2015 school year, left to join Florida's team in 2015-2016 and met Kasey down there in their rookie year. (Obviously they proceeded to fall in love as all good O'Hara's do: fall in love with their best friend.)

Leo Knut:

*open's mouth* *closes mouth* *opens mouth again* *looks down at the ground* Leo was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met.

Leo was 18 at the start of Sweater Weather (2019) with a birthday somewhere in Nov-Dec, so theoretically he would have been a Senior in High School the year before. If you just tick back the years, that would put him in 8th grade during the 2014-2015 school year.

Not anything important I just stumbled across it and thought it was worth sharing, may as well make this post longer.

All in All List of Math:

Logan and Finn's last kiss before Finn left for Gryffindor would have been in May of 2017 not 2016

Their next kiss would be 2 years and 7 months later, not 4 years later

Finn and Logan have been in love since they met in August of 2014, meaning they've been in love for 5 years and 6 months, not eight years.

Alex O'Hara shared his Senior year at Harvard with Logan during Logan's Freshman year

Leo Knut was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met

Timeline

[blacklegsanjiii]

Hey! Well, I am writing a au that the name is "Child Soldier AU" and focus on our Sanji, I wanted to have the opinion someone who can write aus in a amazing way so thats why I'm sending you this asks. (And, it's okay if I use some things you might say about this universe in the plot?)

Also, I'm thinking about adding ASL x Sanji in the au because the dynamic of this ship would be interesting in this. So feel free to add something of ASL x S if you want!

(The story is still being written so I might add or chance things after)

The North Blue is a much more cruel sea than canon, where wars happens frequently between kingdoms. Judge, wanting to have power, decides that waiting for his children to grow up is not an option, and sends all five children to fight. Sora stills tries to stop the experiments in the two pregnancies but fails, the only kid who actually worked being Sanji. But, unlike canon, the other four feel as much as the blonde. They're still stronger, yes, but not as bad.

Once they are three, four years old, Judge sends them to fight for Germa. Against Sora's wish. Even Sanji, who is a "failure", goes because wasting the forth experiment would be nonsense. The five siblings, between fighting and training and going to the lab to be "fixed", manage to have rare moments where they can be childrens, with their mother help. All of them are extremely attached at Sora and each other, afterall, it's all they have and will ever have, right?

Wrong. Because when Ichiji, Niji, Sanji and Yonji are six years old and Reiju is nine, Sora dies. Their oh so dear mother is dead. Then, everything starts to get worse and worse. Reiju dies on a fight with another kingdom some weeks later, breaking the quadruplets already damaged heart. Niji and Yonji die some time later when they're seven yo, leaving only Ichiji and Sanji alone. And, to make things even worse, when the two left are eight years old, Ichiji dies on a mission both brothers were after they get separated for a moment during the infiltration mission in a rival kingdom. Leaving Sanji completely and utterly alone.

Sanji is eight years old, alone with their bastard of a father and heartbreak. He never liked to fight, and after everything he is just more sure that these wars are uselles, utterly bullshit. And then, then, Judge — fucking Judge — acts like it's his dead siblings fault they aren't alive anymore and just replaces them with robots like they're nothing. Sanji always feared his father, but god, he's so angry and sad that he yells how much of a asshole Judge is.

And, as punishment, Judge locks him in the dungeon with the helmet, during two whole years. Sanji is ten years old when he run away and jump direct at the sea, waking up in a rock with some old geezer who says his name is "Zeff" and saved him. Whatever. He is stuck in the rock during three months and starving, alongside Zeff. And then the man eats his own damn leg to survive (for him, he is doing this for Sanji) and they get help some time later.

They open the Baratie after some time and, well, having the chance to be a child, even a little bit is... Good. Weird, of course, but amazing. He thinks about his siblings and how they would love living there, if his mother is proud while looking him from the heaven. Sanji grows up in Baratie, and some nights, when he can't sleep, he thinks about everything, what could've been different, how things would be if his siblings (and mother) were alive.

I fucking love this. Truly I do. I appreciate you coming to me(and yes, obviously, this blog is open for anyone to write what they want based off the AUs here. Use me for plot)

Okay so let's start with my beloved all the kids have emotions. It's one of my favorite things to do but also Jesus now they're all going to have trauma and realize it. Though not for long because they die(or do they??) and it just fucks with Sanji because his siblings will protect him no matter what, and that starts when he's four! He and his brothers are four! Sora is seething and constantly checking on them and Reiju and sobbing when she sees the scars and burns because she can't save them. She does her best to let them know she loves them until she dies and then a few weeks later, when they haven't even processed that their mother is dead, Reiju dies.

Their sister and mother are dead and buried in the garden next to the castle and the boys are numb and hollow. Sanji is so much more fragile than the others and now they're even more protective. They stick as close as they can together until all of Sanji's family is dead except his uncaring father who locks him away and blames them for dying. He blamed them for things out of their control. They're children, or were. Sanji doesn't remember being a child but he knows they were too young to die.

But Sanji is the only one left so I think Judge has to suck it up and make Sanji the heir he never wanted and pulls him out of the dungeon. Cleans him up and presents him as the heir to the world. At some point when Sanji is older, maybe like fourteen he screams at Judge after Judge goes off about his siblings and him being failures and Sanji just screams. Anger and fury and hurt as he grabs his raid suit and leaves. Just runs away as far as he possibly can.

I think from there he could work the orbit, meet Zeff, open Baratie. Canon stuff. He definitely has sleepless nights, some nights when the grief rips through him and he can't stop crying and sobbing. It hurts, it hurts so bad that he lived and they didn't. Reiju who wanted to use her powers to help save people. Ichiji who wanted to see the world. Niji who wanted to be the best of the best. Yonji who wanted to bring peace to the world and didn't know better. None of them did.

I hope this helps!

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Warning: Religion, God-critical (that term makes me feel like I'm writing meta that bashes a teen girl or pretends she is the villain), nihilism, explorations of suffering according to abrahamic faiths and particularly christianity, canon fucked upness in Aeron and Theon's stories. LONG POST.

I've been thinking about the Drowned God. I know people usually connect catholicism with the faith of the seven, which is fair especially when looking at it as an institution, and the faith of the Drowned God gets compared more often to Scandinavian/Norse mythology, more specifically to Valhalla as the afterlife (although I think the feasts given by Ægir and Ran in Skáldskaparmál would be even more fitting, but that's only me nitpicking), but the catholic catechism sees suffering as something that is both redemptive and also empowering and this reminds me of Aeron and Theon.

Christianity on itself believes that suffering, when united with the Passion of Jesus, atones for one's sins and thus allows entry into heaven. Catholicism specially sees suffering as an inherent part of the human condition brought upon by human sin against God.

“As long as [Adam] remained in the divine intimacy, man would not have to suffer or die.”  - Catechism of the Catholic Church

But since Adam and Eve committed sin by eating the forbidden fruit (or as I like to see it in my I-view-very-important-religions-as-basically-high-fantasy interpretation, Eve chose agency & knowledge and cut the strings this divine puppeteer used to limit her with), suffering was casted upon them and all their descendants. And then, according to the incredibly specific official bible timeline from the Houston Christian University, 3974 years, six months, and ten days later (skdghsfbdhaaahahahahahah) Jesus was sent to earth to cause some havoc and basically tell everyone that the suffering, the struggle, the oppression and all the horrible things that happened to innocent people in our world would eventually have a payoff after death.

The more strict practitioners (ex. flagellants) used to (and some still do) find spiritual benefits when causing physical pain upon themselves. Corporal mortification was seen as an act that brought you closer to purity. Suffering made you ascend in the eyes of God. Suffering was encouraged. Suffering was noble.

Suffering was a promise of hope.

The promise of eternal life (and the eventual bodily resurrection) allowed people to believe that, as long as they placed their faith in Christ, the suffering would not be tied to a tragedy.

The phrase "God is Dead" first appears in Victor Hugo's Les Misérables but it became more popular through Nietzsche's The Gay Science (Insert SpongeBob hand gesture). A simplified summary of the themes explored in The Gay Science would basically be Nietzsche claiming that christianity invented an ideal inexistent utopia that is too farfetched from reality. He sees christianity as a common, anti-intellectual philosophy for simple minded people that enslaves its believers. But by seeing it as something inexistent and false, by "killing God", the illusion of divinity is lost and all the hope and consolation that came with it are gone too, leaving humanity in a state of tragedy; nihilism.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? - The Gay Science

To some extent I feel like he is the reborn Eve in the narrative. By denying the superior force he feels he gains control over his own person, but is left in a world of pain at the burden of his existence being tied to mortality and purposelessness (oh, sweet paradox)

Nietzsche was a self-proclaimed nihilist although he didn't seem to want to be one. He saw nihilism as the result of the loss one felt at the realisation that life, and all the suffering in it, had no greater purpose. "God is Dead" was calling the readers into finding a way to cope with the situation.

And for anyone who started reading this because I mentioned the Drowned God, sorry it took so long to get here, but I relate all of this specifically to Aeron and Theon and their connections to religion. I believe in Theon's bind to the Old Gods and, as he is in ADWD, it seems he has come to vaguely believe in both of these faiths, although the Old Gods are more present in his story. Aeron though, is so reminiscent of this concept.

And I know that christianity is not the only religion tied to the faith of the Drowned God.

The Osiris myth is arguably the most important one in Egyptian mythology and I think the motif of "What is dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger" is just as if not even more present in that one.

In it, Set murders his brother Osiris. The reasons behind the murder vary depending on source, but one of them portrays it as revenge for Osiris having sex with Set's wife, Nephtys. Set usurps his brother's throne while Nephtys and Osiris' wife, Isis, search for his body, then mummify and revive him. Personally I don't consider it to be very similar to the myth of the Drowned God but it feels more resemblant to it than Jesus' very normal "came back without a scratch" resurrection. Osiris doesn't get that benefit. He comes back bruised and bandaged, with death being visible on him.

Christianity also has refrained from sacrificing their own but Quetzalcoatl and Tláloc, aztec deities, would demand human sacrifice through drowning during Etzalcualiztli (the sixth month of the aztec calendar) and Tláloc specifically promised an utopic afterlife to those who had water-involved deaths, but even more to those who willingly gave themselves to the water. Celts also practiced drowning sacrifices, but I know too little about them to be honest.

What I am trying to say is, if actively searching, one could alway find similitudes to other faiths, but because abrahamic faiths have been the ones that prevailed through time and the ones I've experienced most, I will focus on them.

Alright, Florence play "What the water gave me"

Drowning, baptisms and water imagery

I wonder what it would be like to be a Catholic, to dip your hand into the cold water and to believe in its holiness. - The Moth Diaries (Yes, I read the Moth Diaries, shut up! It is what if Carmilla and Twilight had a child.)

Christianity is kind of basic when it comes to water symbolism, but it's loyal to its theme.

There isn't a lot to speculate on water, it "washes yours sins away" but there is a common pattern in characters that belong to the Bible that is repeated over and over again and somehow Aeron embodies it pretty perfectly.

We are confronted with characters who have lived sinfully.

On the other hand, I do wonder what would be considered as "sinful" according to the Drowned God. Their religion is passed down orally and has no scriptures that I know of, so a set of rules can be more ambiguous depending on whoever is preaching. Lust, greed, wrath and pride, all considered official sins by christian doctrine, are encouraged by the faith of the Drowned God in the form of salt wives, raiding and their beliefs of ethnic superiority. The only sin I can think of that is specific to the them is that Ironborn shouldn't kill Ironborn, but even that is absolved when water is involved since drowning another Ironborn is alright and a death near the water is considered a good death.

We are born to suffer, that our sufferings might make us strong. - The Prophet, AFFC

Suffering is also encouraged, so I am assuming that any type of hedonism would be seen as sinful too (which would-be contradictory to what I stated above, but alright maybe GRRM was a little weaker when it came to world-building this time or maybe I am misunderstanding something. If so, please correct me, I genuinely am curious about these topics), if that is the case, then yeah Aeron was sinful and has reasons to look down on his former self.

Young I was, and vain, but the sea washed my follies and my vanities away. That man drowned, nephew. His lungs filled with seawater, and the fish ate the scales off his eyes. When I rose again, I saw clearly. - Theon I, ACOK

Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptised, - Acts 9:18

Here is one of the many character allusions I think one can identify in Aeron. Saul of Tarsus, disputed Apostle, leads a violent life persecuting early christians until lightning strikes him during one of his travels and blinds him. For three days he starves and spends his time praying until Ananias of Damascus comes to his rescue and baptises him.

It's one of the less obvious ones, but I just like how they used the scales-blindness imagery and while this storm was one at land, not at sea, there is another biblical character who shares more similitudes with Aeron.

As a kid the book of Jonah was one of my favourites, so of course I love Aeron!

A prophet, an equal, but weak in his beliefs, too tentative when he should be nothing but certain in his faith! God tells him to go overthrow Nineveh (east) and, because these prophets never learn not to contradict the narrative, he tries fleeing to Jaffa (west). On the way there, the ship he is traveling on is barely holding on because God has sent a storm against them. The sailors blame Jonah, Jonah takes the blame and goes "alright, you know what? Just throw me over board and the storm will cease." The sailors refuse, but Jonah goes overboard anyway. He comes back to the surface three days later reborn in the water as as a new man, now fully convinced to follow his path as a prophet.

Depending on the translation there are a lot of similitudes between the texts. Even the imagery used for describing settings is alike. I know religious scriptures get a bad rep because of all the atrocities committed in their names (valid, very valid), but viewed simply as text, they have some truly beautiful prose and the Book of Jonah is so vivid and precious, and it is very reminiscent to some of Aeron's chapters.

From inside the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord his God. He said:  “In my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me.  From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,/out of the belly of Sheol I cried,  and you listened to my cry./and you heard my voice.  You hurled me into the depths, into the very heart of the seas,  and the currents swirled about me;  all your waves and breakers swept over me. I said, ‘I have been banished  from your sight;  yet I will look again  toward your holy temple.’  The engulfing waters were at my throat,  the deep surrounded me;  seaweed was wrapped around my head.  To the roots of the mountains I sank down;  the earth beneath barred me in forever.  But you, Lord my God,  brought my life up from the pit.  “When my life was ebbing away,  I remembered you, Lord,  and my prayer rose to you,  to your holy temple.  “Those who cling to worthless idols  turn away from God’s love for them.  But I, with shouts of grateful praise,  will sacrifice to you. What I have vowed I will make good.  I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the Lord.’”  And the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah onto dry land. - Jonah 2

The seaweed in his head, the belly of the beast (Silence/Sheol), the crashing of the waves, the engulfing waters.

I won't even really go into The Forsaken with the Jonah comparison, because to me the Forsaken is the most open "Jesus in the dessert" analogy, but I still find it compelling to imagine Jonah and Aeron, both inside the whale/ship desperately praying to their God. Only one of them finds salvation and it's not Aeron.

But asides from setting and aesthetic there are these:

The god took me deep beneath the waves and drowned the worthless thing I was. When he cast me forth again he gave me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a voice to spread his word, that I might be his prophet and teach his truth to those who have forgotten. - The Prophet, AFFC

Ears that hear and eyes that see— the Lord has made them both. - Proverbs 20:12

Otherwise that they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed. - Isaiah 6:10

They have mouths but cannot speak, eyes but cannot see. They have ears but cannot hear, nor is there breath in their mouths. - Psalm 135:16 & Psalm 115:5

There is a singer from my country, she wrote a song called "Thanks for life" and then killed herself three months later (Iconic behaviour). The song is still considered a "humanist hymn", which I think is morbidly hilarious. In the lyrics, she keeps thanking life for things that should be basic to life; for having eyes, ears, mouth and hands. I think there is something interesting in how these are all basic atributes most people are born with but these acts of gratefulness, at least in Aeron and Jonah's case are not made in bad faith. They are genuine and true.

 The Drowned God gives every man a gift. - The Prophet AFFC

Are these seen as the God's gifts too? If so, are these acts of gratefulness supposed to make the believers humble and less ambitious? Or is it just that the God is a niggardly one? We know of Aeron having thought his gift was that he could piss longer and farther than most, and later on he recognises the power of his speech, his eloquence. Surprisingly, Aeron is never stripped of that gift once Euron captures him.

His eloquence is his strength, through it he preaches, leads religious rites, advices lords and convinces others to join the faith. And of course, he also baptises.

Baptisms, baptisms, baptising, cleaning the sins way, water as a metaphor for blood, birth, rebirth, John the Baptist!

This is where the storm -> near death experience -> spiritual reawakening pattern ends, but the similarities become more clear when we recognise both of them as heralds whose strength lies in their reputation and their oratory, something both Euron & Herod recognise and it is what keeps them from killing him (or in Herod's case at least for some time).

I have mentioned on my blog that I don't buy a lot into the Jesus-Theon comparisons and I will mention it again later but, since I am a hypocrite, I will take the Theon-Jesus bait and use it as a prop for my Aeron-John thing. As of now there are just two instances involving Theon that actually make me think of Jesus:

Psalms 22

His baptism

Jesus baptism marks his place as "messiah" but it also announces the beginning of his true calvary. By having the Holy Spirit descend on him after the water has cleansed him, he accepts his destiny as his father's (God) lamb to the slaughter. According to Matthew's Gospel it is even Jesus who has to beg John to baptise him, although John is initially reluctant. After the baptism Jesus departs to the dessert knowing of the suffering that awaits for him. This is not the case for Theon. Theon initially doesn't even want to be baptised. It's almost like he is subconsciously trying to escape what is to come after the baptism: the anguish.

Lifting the skin, his uncle pulled the cork and directed a thin stream of seawater down upon Theon's head. It drenched his hair and ran over his forehead into his eyes. Sheets washed down his cheeks, and a finger crept under his cloak and doublet and down his back, a cold rivulet along his spine. The salt made his eyes burn, until it was all he could do not to cry out. He could taste the ocean on his lips. "Let Theon your servant be born again from the sea, as you were," Aeron Greyjoy intoned. "Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel." - Theon I, ACOK

I love Theon's baptism by Aeron. It goes badly and it's tragicomical. It feels like a mockery of Jesus' baptism. A satirised Monty Python type of scene.

Here he comes, our cocksure young man who sees himself as the chosen one, holding a promise of paper while thinking there is an entire comet heralding his return, here he comes, our prodigal son, all "Don't need no advice! I got a plan! I know the direction, the lay on the land! [...] Nuh-nuh-nothing can break-nuh-noting can break me down!" only to get cold feet and be made to kneel in the mud, annoyed at the custom that would have actually anointed him, and then having to blink the tears away because it hurts him. @/shebsart has a really beautiful and intense but also comical depiction of the scene and I really love it.

It's also a little sad. It shows a disconnection from what should have been his culture and faith. The saltwater washed Aeron's follies away. Aeron embraces it, he drinks saltwater, bathes in saltwater and would probably not mind it on his eyes. The saltwater nurtures Aeron, but to Theon it only gives pain.

Ok now, to

Reek, Aeron, Job and Jeyne, Falia and Job's wife

(I think a reading of The Book of Job could also be applied to Lancel Lannister with Amerei Frey taking the role of Job's wife and Jaime Lannister acting as Job's friends, but I won't write about him and even Aeron will be in second place. @/nosaeanchorage wrote meta about the religious journeys Theon, Aeron and Lancel experience involving trauma responses which I found to be very interesting and well formed, so yeah I'd recommend reading it!)

The book of Job has a theme in its story. Can you guess it? It's further suffering!

(In a very deep voice: Where were you when I feel from grace? A frozen heart, an empty space)

So, Job is this guy living a rather fulfilling and morally righteous life; he is happy with his wife and children, has a few friends, is wealthy and healthy and, most importantly, he is God-fearing. Satan tells God that the only reason Job is loyal to him and serves him so dutifully, is because God has been good to him. God gets insecure and tells Satan "alright, let's see if you are right. Go torture him a little. You can take his riches, his children and his health in that order. You can take pretty much everything he values, but keep him alive!"

Job becomes a miserable wreck of a man.

It's not a favourite of mine, but it has a pretty good interval of "pathetic wet kitten blorbo" and "angry, scornful almost defiant in his resentment survivor" so I still enjoy it. And it also opens the question on whether "divine punishment" is really something inherently based on justice and goodness, it defies the way many religions tend to preach that bad things can only happen to bad people and, unlike the suffering promised by Christ, there is no redemption to be found through it. Job at some point gets healthy again and his riches are restored, but this was not a given. The suffering is pointless unless he finds a meaning to it.

This doesn't really sound a lot like Theon or Aeron. Both of them were deprived of well adjusted, happy lives since childhood, but Theon's behaviour towards Ramsay sometimes reminds me of Job's feelings for God, and Euron literally claims himself to be a God.

Ramsay is never directly compared by the text or any characters to a God (well maybe he himself does, but that's arguable), the closest we come to such is this:

“The gods are not done with me,” Theon answered, wondering if this could be the killer, the night walker who had stuffed Yellow Dick’s cock into his mouth and pushed Roger Ryswell’s groom off the battlements. Oddly, he was not afraid. He pulled the glove from his left hand. “Lord Ramsay is not done with me.” - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

But Theon's fear for him sometimes makes me think of one. He is so terrified of Ramsay and sees him as this unbeatable force, but keeps telling himself and others that whatever Ramsay has done, as nefarious as it is, is an act of mercy and goodness. I know there are different interpretations to that behaviour. Some readers tend to believe that he has successfully gaslighted himself, others see it as a remnant of his sardonic and sarcastic sense of humour. Personally, I imagine it's a mixture of both. There is enough textual evidence for me to believe he does not truly think Ramsay is justified in his actions, but I can imagine how he might try telling himself that no punishment goes undeserved as a way of coping, which is what he tells Jeyne too.

In the Book of Job, our poor little meow meow goes through different reactions as his torture starts, many of them resemble Theon's thoughts, never fully by text, but very much in spirit.

He would crush me with a storm and multiply my wounds for no reason. He would not let me catch my breath but would overwhelm me with misery. If it is a matter of strength, he is mighty! And if it is a matter of justice, who can challenge him? Even if I were innocent, my mouth would condemn me; if I were blameless, it would pronounce me guilty. - Job 9:17-20

How long will you torment me and crush me with words?  Ten times now you have reproached me; shamelessly you attack me.   If it is true that I have gone astray, my error remains my concern alone. If indeed you would exalt yourselves above me and use my humiliation against me, then know that God has wronged me and drawn his net around me.  Though I cry, ‘Violence!’ I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice. He has blocked my way so I cannot pass; he has shrouded my paths in darkness.  He has stripped me of my honor and removed the crown from my head.  He tears me down on every side till I am gone; he uproots my hope like a tree.  His anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies.  His troops advance in force; they build a siege ramp against me and encamp around my tent.  He has alienated my family from me; my acquaintances are completely estranged from me.  My relatives have gone away; my closest friends have forgotten me.  My guests and my female servants count me a foreigner; they look on me as on a stranger.  I summon my servant, but he does not answer, though I beg him with my own mouth.  My breath is offensive to my wife; I am loathsome to my own family.  Even the little boys scorn me; when I appear, they ridicule me.  All my intimate friends detest me; those I love have turned against me.  I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth. - Job 19:1-20

That, the ambivalent conviction that they deserve to be punished, and the overall fear of their torturer's omnipotence are written similarly. Of course in Job's narrative the omnipotence is real, in Theon's it is only perceived, but so, so strongly.

And this is where Jeyne takes an interesting role.

Job's wife is a fun character and I admire her. To some extent she and Jeyne serve similar purposes in the story, since they defy Job and Theon's conviction of their fate being unescapable. Sadly, in Job and his wife's case, she is wrong because you can't defeat God and you can't escape him, but I still appreciate her condemnation of Job's passivity and God's supposed goodness. The text focuses on Job's pain but never on the collateral pain that reaches his wife. She might not have fallen sick, but since her living condition is tied to that of her husband she is affected by all this. She has lost her riches, her happiness, her children, and only because of God's whims, someone she begins to hate. She also begins to loathe Job and the way he keeps making excuses for God and justifying the tragedy that befalls them. So, she tells Job:

“Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” - Job 2:9

(fucking metal, I love her, iconic behaviour)

The holy scriptures are not very compassionate to women who defy men or God, they get vilified and punished, but I applaud that bravery.

In Jeyne's case, her defying of Theon's conviction that Ramsay is unescapable is done much more gently and the relationship between them appears to be one of mutual compassion; Theon often tries to victim-blame her in the same way he blames himself but never seems to truly internalise that, Jeyne apparently doesn't hold his participation in her abuse against him and considers him her saviour. But still! Jeyne, as meek and scared as she is, is the one who by constantly asking for help, by acting undignified in her suffering and not simply taking it without question, manages to water this seed of doubt in Theon's mind, even if he himself isn't fully aware of that.

And it's kind of fun to think how, although Jeyne and Falia are narrative props with similar purposes, it's Jeyne and Aeron who take the place of Job's wife. Falia is Job, fully sure that Euron is merciful and will treat her with respect and care for their children, that Euron will not forsake her, while Aeron is immediately telling her to run for her life.

Maybe because, unlike Theon, his faith is already placed in a God.

Jesus Christ & The Forsaken (and Lodos and Theon)

(Need new song...Wow a yard SAIL!)

Lodos

I'm going to clear the issue with Lodos very fast, because he too seems to be like a wink at Jesus Christ. Lodos literally claims he is the Drowned God's Son, dies, then supposedly comes back from the dead some time later like "'sup", leads a rebellion against the current ruler of the Iron Islands and dies again this time with all his followers being persecuted and killed, so yeah, he seems like a satirised version of Jesus Christ but there is not a lot more to that.

Theon

I have seen people claiming connections between the two but never in a manner I could agree with, and I feel so stupid because I don't get it. People sometimes compared his and Robb's relationship to Jesus & Judas, which aside from the suicidal thoughts post "betrayal" doesn't seem very alike. The "betrayal" was done for different reasons, the reactions to the "betrayal" are different, and the guilt also comes from different places. By placing Theon as Judas we also sanctify Robb in a manner I find almost insulting since Robb condoned and approved of Theon's torture by the Boltons. If I'm going to compare Robb and Theon it will be more to God & Satan, but even there it's only a superficial similitude.

Now, Aeron, Aeron, my love, Aeron!

My God, my God, why have thou forsaken me? - Psalms 22:1

“Still praying, priest? Your god has forsaken you.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

Even the title feels like a reference. The trajectory of Aeron's belief during the chapter resembles the psalms too and, although I never believe in anything I think, their similitudes are what makes me hopeful about Aeron's fate; the idea that he is not truly forsaken.

As hinted above, the Psalms begin lamenting themselves over the anguish that God is seemingly not stoping, yet as they continue the psalmist becomes even more convinced of his God being a merciful one who will provide a cure for his afflictions, one whom the world should praise.

For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.  From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfil my vows.  The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the LORD will praise him— may your hearts live forever!  All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the LORD and he rules over the nations. All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive.  Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord.  They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it! - Psalms 22:24-31

According to most interpretations, the psalmist himself is Jesus. This is the suffering of Christ and from Psalms 22:22-31 it is spoken by him after coming back from the dead. He encourages others, those who have witnessed his anguish, to believe. This is also what Aeron does once Falia is bound to the prow with him, he tells her of better times to come.

“Falia Flowers,” he called. “Have courage, girl! All this will be over soon, and we will feast together in the Drowned God’s watery halls.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

This also slightly mirrors Jesus and the Penitent Thief, who is crucified next to the Messiah and fears what is to come after death. He asks Jesus to not forget him.

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” - Luke 23:43

It's so remarkable and moving to me how Aeron has always tried to protect Falia from Euron. He doesn't know her, if he were to have known her he would have probably looked at her with scorn, to some extent she has acted as an accomplice to Euron in his captivity, and yet...he promises this frivolous greenlander girl that the two of them will feast together...

The end of the chapter also carries christian imagery that seems to stem from Christ's crucifixion.

“Your Grace,” said Torwold Browntooth. “I have the priests. What do you want done with them?” “Bind them to the prows,” Euron commanded. “My brother on the Silence. Take one for yourself. Let them dice for the others, one to a ship. Let them feel the spray, the kiss of the Drowned God, wet and salty.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.  Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.” This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said, “They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.” So this is what the soldiers did. - John 19:23-24

They bound Aeron Damphair tight with strips of leather that would shrink when wet, clad only in his beard and breechclout.  - The Forsaken, TWOW

The overall mental image summoned by that description is also rather similar to the typical depictions of Christ on the cross.

And even prior to The Forsaken, there are still some smaller, more superficial similitudes between the two.

Aeron lives sparingly, has no material possessions save for his waterskin and robe, he has a cult of followers devoted to him, and disregards governmental authority since he obeys to a higher power, one who encourages suffering in the same manner christianity does. Aeron fasts, goes swimming in cold water, drinks salt water, all this as a way to serve his God and become a living example of their teachings.

So yeah, in my opinion Aeron is the closest we have to an ASOIAF Jesus reference. It's not Theon, Theon's torture by Ramsay and the torture he imposes on himself afterward have no ideological purpose, it is pointless and unwilling. In my opinion, it's not Jon, it's not Beric, it surely isn't Robb, I hope it's not Dany (although I see a lot of abrahamic imagery in her (Moses + Lot's wife)), it's the Damphair. And I love that. I love how (according to the the author) one of the least sympathetic characters in this story has been somewhat equated to Jesus. A bold move, one that I've enjoyed a lot.

Anyway, in order to further develop this.

The Storm God, Euron and the Devil

Let's go!

I feel like Euron would appreciate this type of stuff he is flamboyant, weird and comical. If we ever get an ASOIAF musical I like to believe this could be inspiration for a duet between them.

Monotheism is a rare concept in ASOIAF.

The Many-Faced God could be the closest we have to a (explored in text) monotheistic religion, although it is monotheistic in the way Hinduism could be considered monotheistic: The belief in one supreme god whose qualities and forms are represented by a multitude of different deities, all which emanate from one alone. 

Out of the religions that are explored in the books none of them are really monotheistic, although some of them demand for their worshippers to worship them and no other.

Most real-life monotheistic religions have a type of "anti" to their god, who is not a god themselves, but is a being superior to humankind meant to drive them to perdition. They function more as a tool for testing human's moral compass and will to follow the true God than a foe. The word "Satan" means "adversary", but this is in reference to his relationship to humans, not to God.

In Goethe's Faust, God and one of his devils, Mephistopheles, make a bet and Mephistopheles is fully devoted to winning that bet. He does everything in his power to prove human virtue isn't true and that corruption will always prevail. The story proves he has a point. Faust does some completely despicable and heinous stuff and is very immoral, and still Mephistopheles loses anyway because God decides to pardon Faust's misdeeds and allows him to enter Heaven. Mephistopheles never stood a chance. He was fighting the narrative and the writer of the narrative and he could only be defeated by them. He is only a minion of God who doesn't comprehend his position and believes he is capable of surpassing a creature who is above all.

This is pretty compliant with christianity's views on the devil.

Hoverer, it is not the case with beliefs like those of Aeron and Melisandre. They don't regard the Storm God and the Great Other as mere petty minions doing the Drowned God's or R'hllor's dirty work. They see them as threats and all other gods as their petty minions.

"There are no gods but R'hllor and the Other, whose name may not be said." - Victarion I, ADWD

"Your Drowned God is a demon, he is no more than a thrall of the Other, the dark god whose name must not be spoken." - Victarion I, ADWD

The Storm God is considered an enemy of the Drowned God, and although his labour is similar to that of the christian devil (driving men/sailors into their doom), he seems to be his own creature.

And still! When comparing Aeron's role to Jesus Christ in the Forsaken, I can't help but think of Euron, the Storm God, and Satan as one.

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

(Not gonna lie, I think it's very fun how out of all the Greyjoy's the one whose name is directly derived from "God" is actually Theon, but alright, whatever...)

We don't really know what triggered Aeron's religious awakening. With Theon, Ramsay and his time in Winterfell is the easiest answer, with Aeron it's a mystery and I don't dare to say religion was a coping mechanism for Euron's sexual abuse or Urri's death because, based on what we know, the more plausible options are that alcohol and sex were the coping mechanisms.

We only know he went down in a storm and washed up ashore. On itself that is enough to be traumatic, so I don't know how much we should speculate on it.

A smile played across Euron's blue lips. "I am the storm, my lord. The first storm, and the last. - The Reaver, AFFC

I don't even have a theory, I don't have any proof or a structured idea. This just seemed remarkable to me. The concept that Euron might be involved in whatever happened during that storm is tempting and fun, nothing more.

Now, if Aeron is playing the role of Jesus, with Falia as the penitent thief during the "crucification", then I think I can claim Euron is taking the role of Satan; especially during The Forsaken.

After an undetermined, but apparently long period of starvation and isolation, Euron finally comes to Aeron, dressed in black and red, and presents the equivalent to the Devil's three temptations.

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”  Jesus answered,  “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ” Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple.  “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’ ”  Jesus answered him,  “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ” Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will kneel and worship me.” Jesus said to him,  “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’ ” Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him. - Matthew 4:1-11

“That’s it, priest. Gulp it down. The wine of the warlocks, sweeter than your seawater, with more truth in it than all the gods of earth.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Pray to me. Beg me to end your torment, and I will.” “Not even you would dare,” said the Damphair. “I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

“Kneel, brother,” the Crow’s Eye commanded. “I am your king, I am your god. Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.” - The Forsaken, TWOW

I'm not going to pretend they are the same, with exception of the third one, but even the others have small resemblances; nourishment of some sort after starving + trying to get the other killed, although the later one reminds me more of an encounter between him and Victarion.

Euron turned to face him, his bruised blue lips curled in a half smile. "Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower?" - The Reaver, AFFC

The last temptation, is the most interesting to me, because Euron has already distorted Aeron's faith into being chosen as King. He played at the edge of legality and won! And yet now, during The Forsaken he is experiencing a sort of existential defeat. Aeron is not being rescued by any god, but he would rather die as a martyr or accept even more torture and suffering rather than serve him. It doesn't matter how much Euron tries to convince him that his God has abandoned him, that he is a greater force, like Jonah, Job and Jesus Aeron refuses to abandon his faith.

And I think this persistence is what will keep him alive.

I've always found it very fun and interesting that Euron never threatens to cut Aeron's tongue out.

When wondering why, the Theon-Ramsay answer would be that Euron likes to hear Aeron's pain, which makes sense given how Aeron is a more targeted victim of his compared to ex. Falia Flowers. But Euron very clearly intends to gain Aeron to his side. He knows of the power Aeron holds in his voice and speech, of his reputation as a holy and respected man among the Ironborn, and how much of a waste it would be to simply throw away that power. Remember Varys' "[Cersei] knows a tame wolf is of more use than a dead one"? An eloquent priest is of more use than a mute one.

But this also backfires on him because since Aeron's integrity can't be broken, he manages to keep defying him and even continues spreading the word of the Drowned God, even as he is in a situation of mortal peril.

And still, even if the end of The Forsaken is somewhat triumphal, I can't believe it.

Yes, he is strengthening his faith, this obviously is a victory over Euron, his persistence and loyalty, but how long will it last? Weirdly enough out of my five favourite POV characters, Aeron is the one whose death I'm convinced of the least (sadly), and whenever I try picturing him after managing to get away from the Silence I can't help but imagine there will be a change in his mindset and I don't know what form it will take.

“Even a priest may doubt. Even a prophet may know terror. Aeron Damphair reached within himself for his god and discovered only silence.” - The Drowned Man, AFFC

Maybe it is because the chances of getting to my 30s are very narrow, and in the mean time I am in physical and mental pain, that I find there is something very beautiful and empowering about showing that the horrors are not always meaningful, and that they are continuous. The horrors are trying to live before, during and after the horrors.

So anyway, the reason I brought up Nietzsche way earlier in this is because I don't think the suffering in characters like Aeron or Theon is of nihilistic nature and it baffles me when people pretend it is. This is not suffering for the sake of suffering because suffering is inevitable and pointless and blah blah blah blah misery porn blah blah blah trauma porn blah blah blah moral outrage blah blah blah. It is suffering, it is inevitable, it can be pointless, and it makes a huge point in the narrative and the characters lives! And it is important to me that we see characters go through these things; to see them lose, grieve and hate, to see them being imperfect examples of victimhood, even if their feelings on the matter will vary. Some might attach some personal value to their trauma and others won't and both should be allowed to exist in media without people pretending only one of those is valid.

Theon's suffering is something very rare and precious to me because it serves no greater purpose. It started before he even met Ramsay and hasn't known at end ever since. I don't consider it redemptive, it's not a justified karmic punishment either. It carries no ideology and it's not for the sake of others. There is no consolation for him or anyone else because of it. The blood will coagulate, dry and be washed away, the wounds will scar and heal, and he will gain weight and muscles back and none of his mental issues will be solved. The torture doesn't fix him.

And I think that his possible outlook on it will be very interesting to see in contrast with Aeron's and their respective religious journeys. Theon's religious awakening is different and still genuine. It is in servitude to another faith that would be looked down upon by Aeron, and whom even Theon himself denied back in ACOK, mockingly referring to them as trees.

"Tell me true, nephew. Do you pray to the wolf gods now?" Theon seldom prayed at all, but that was not something you confessed to a priest, even your father's own brother. "Ned Stark prayed to a tree. No, I care nothing for Stark's gods." "Good. Kneel." - Theon I, ACOK

And I can't imagine an Aeron who, after going through an event this world-shattering (being tied to the prow of a ship while living unspeakable horrors, being drugged by the person who sexually abused him as a child and has now confessed to killing their brothers, one of whom Aeron seemed fond of, being confronted with the victory of a self proclaimed god whom he despises, and starting to form his own connection with a former mean girl whom he would have spat on, now co-victim), would be as judgemental to his nephew's newly awoken beliefs, even if they differ, even if he keeps viewing his own calvary as something divine, even if to Theon the suffering will never be a positive.

With all this said, I will admit I long for some evolution in Aeron's faith as the story progresses. I am open to pretty much every ending, but I love the possibility of a rupture between him and the faith that has been sustaining him for so long. Perhaps not a full negation of his God, but some questioning of his religion. The unsettlement of the "God is Dead" sentiment crawling in the cracks of his doubt.

So, simply out of curiosity in case anyone actually managed to get here:

[lowkeyorloki]

for the anon who asked what i've been working on lately <3 18+ onlyyyy

~

No one is surprised when you announce your date with Him. Not anyone who knows you, at least. It’s fast, very fast. You only just dropped off the Last One at the airport.

It’s the same for Him, His divorce hasn’t even been finalized. It’s cool, though - you aren’t the first girl He’s dated since she moved out. You are the youngest, obviously.

The youngest I’d go, He tells you the first night. He’s laying naked next to you. He’s blue-collar, all corded muscle in his legs and chest. It’s a contrast to his stomach, which is soft, rising and falling in a steady pattern. You want to kiss it, but don’t. It’s too familiar. I understand there’s potential to be a power dynamic here, He continues. He takes a pause, hits His vape. Later, He’ll make you laugh when He asks you where His douche flute is. 

His blue eyes are piercing; you see them in the dark. Your heart beats a bit faster. The fact He acknowledges this possibility at all completely does away with it.

You weren’t supposed to like each other so much, and yet you do, so you spend the night and He stays until four in the morning and you don’t have to fake your orgasms anymore. You tell Him about how you let the Last One believe they were your first. It feels good to admit, though you’re not truthful with Him either. You tell Him the inverse of what you told the Last One: He’s not the first. Man, that is. But He is, besides the time you made out with your future brother in law without your shirt on, which doesn’t count. It didn’t go further than that.

That’s the only lie you tell, and all things considered, you feel justified. He already has so much power over you. He doesn’t need more.

In four months, He gets comfortable. He picks at you sometimes, but it’s fine. You barely even notice He can’t handle the same. He eats away at you, but values your opinion so much: He asks which painting of Jesus to hang on His wall. One night, on the phone - your brother made fun of you for using 2,183 minutes in a month - you finally say something. I feel small. You don’t mention the other stuff, like how He’s less affectionate and takes His socks off on your couch even though He has athlete’s foot. He’s not happy, you knew He wouldn’t be, and you wish He were here to see the look on your face.

Hey, He says a few minutes after making up. You’re about to go to bed. I just hope you know how much I really appreciate and enjoy talking to you. I mean, you know you’re my favorite person. You blink, because you didn’t know that. As of late, you have been under the impression He doesn’t like you, He just likes having you around. You’re His only support system after all, the only person He talks to. Frankly, you’re a convenience. 

I can’t have these conversations with anyone else. I know what I think, but you make me work for it. You think of your third date, when He spanked you so hard your ass was bruised for days. That was when He taught you what posturing was, and called you Daddy’s Little Slut before he walked out the door. You’d never been so wet in your life. 

Your mom asks if she can meet Him a few days later. She’s going to be in town next month. No, you tell her. But I love you. That’s why you can’t meet Him, you don’t tell her. 

Good choice, because He breaks up with you and walks it back over the course of two weeks. You were devastated, crying as the nurse gave you your shots and trying to play it off like you’re afraid of needles. She sees the tattoos on your arms. She doesn’t say anything. You reconcile with Him seven days later, and He tells you his ex wife didn’t fight for him the way you are. You think of how you haven’t been kissed in a month.

It’s different after this, of course. There’s less of an obligation, you say. Less commitment. He even turned off read receipts. You're not sure if that or the fact you noticed is worse.

Yeah, He tells you. It doesn’t have to be such a big deal though. 

It is to me, you think. You have different opinions on this matter. He thinks it’s inconsequential  that the behavior keeping the two of you close has started to wane. He’s in love with you after all, and the love hasn’t. Of course, He won’t admit or say He’s in love with you, but you know, and He knows you know, which should be enough.

You’ve always been greedy - it’s not enough. But at least you don’t love Him back.

[sophaeros]

I think I'm hf in the exact same thing as you rn I just found your blog I am also obsessed with band rpf and Casablanca's/hammond jr do u have a kind of manifesto or anything I can read

dude did one of my irls send this or smth..i was literally Just talking about putting together a masterdoc and they were egging me on BSJFJWBS. i mean i'm kinda working on one but no promises bc im terrible w long term projects and also theyre very difficult to figure out

BUT i Will say (and i've seen other random people online agree w me) i think the general timeline is that during the seven years they lived together from 1998 to 2005 jules was down bad for albert but albert didn't realise his own feelings, so the most that might've happened is some fooling around physically. (this is mainly going off of this page from the meet me in the bathroom book where jules says "albert, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, baby!" insane quote. i could talk a little more about their full quotes but that's another post)

sometime between 2005 and 2013 (possibly 2011 tbh, comedown machine is The gay situationship album but angles touches on it a lot too) they dated twice and broke up both times. im not sure who broke up w who but tentatively i would say the first breakup was more acrimonious while the second breakup might've been mutual.

it's difficult to say anything for sure because most of their songs have songwriting credits shared with other people, so looking at lyrics for clues has a pretty big margin of error since a line might've been written by someone else and not them, yknow? i mean rpf is never a "for sure" kind of deal i could be entirely wrong and that would be fine but. you get what i mean

also one way trigger is the lynchpin for me. i physically cannot imagine a platonic explanation for this poster that uses a screenshot from thelma and louise of all films. not to mention the lyrics like even my Mom raised an eyebrow at "get dressed in your bed while she's asleep." and also it's one of two strokes songs albert has ever played solo with the other being elephant song (at least according to setlistfm, im still trying to find a video of it) (edit 12/08/2034: setlistfm lied to me he did not play elephant song 💔💔���💔) which was written, surprise surprise, by albert and julian in 1999.

i mean i guess the poster could be them fucking around and having a little laugh but come on what an insane ass joke to make man. i'm gonna make a post later about one way trigger being their specialest little song because it really is

soo like..theres still more i could talk about like one way trigger being written by the albert julian nick trio (which makes me laugh imagining nick mediating their lovers quarrel) [EDIT: ACTUALLY WAIT NO ok it's hard to find definitive information on who wrote what bc different databases have information of varying precision but the canadian site socan which is the most precise so far says only albert and jules wrote the lyrics for one way trigger i'd misremembered. albert julian nick trio Did do call it fate tho which is still kinda crazy !! also jules and albert being the only ones to do one way trigger makes me crazier jesus christ why is this depressing ass song Their Song !!!!] which is the same trio as games from angles. theres a lot i've been thinking about them nonstop for like, what, a month? give or take? my poor friends have to deal w me sending dozens of messages at a time much love and light to them if they read this muah

and thank you for the excuse to be insane on main anon 🥰

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen - Chapter Seventeen - Chapter Eighteen - Chapter Nineteen - Chapter Twenty - Chapter Twenty-One - Chapter Twenty-Two - Chapter Twenty-Three

@nightmareglitter

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nancy sat in the living room of her house, everyone pale as Max told them what happened. Max was being held tight by her mother but this time, Max was holding her back just as tightly. Agent Stinson was back at the house now, recounting what happened with Victor Creel but not before Eddie and Dustin had interjected with their own names for whatever was haunting them. Apparently, they had some time on their hands. Vecna, the dark wizard from Eddie's campaign, with untold powers, was cursing these people. . .was cursing them. Agent Stinson had silenced them with a look before talking again.

"Yes, Victor Creel's family was Vecna's first victims in 1959. Victor believed that his home was haunted, possessed, and even called an exorcist. Later, when his family's bodies were crushed as well as their eyes, he believed it to be the work of a demon. After inheriting some money, the Creels moved to Hawkins to start their new life, and they had one month of peace, and then it all went to hell. Dead animals, tortured, were left near their home. They all began to hallucinate. Victor had said that the demon seemed to take pleasure in tormenting them, and Victor soon began to have hallucinations of his own. He seemed to be able to sense that the demon was close and believed he was hiding in their house, that it cursed everyone in Hawkins. It took Victor's wife, Virginia, first. He tried to get the children out, and then he started to hallucinate. He was back in the war and being taunted by the demon. He was pulled out of the hallucination by the music that was playing on the radio, only to discover that his children had been taken by the demon. Henry had slipped into a coma, and a week later, he died," Agent Stinson finished.

"Jesus," Ted said.

"What does this mean?" Karen asked. "For Max."

"Keep her Walkman on her at all times, keep it playing, and you keep that asshole out of your head," Nancy told Max.

"Okay, well, she can't keep this up forever," Sue said.

"We need to find this guy and kill it," Nancy said.

"Well, we still don't know where he is or why he's waited so long to do this and why he's doing it now. Hell, we don't even know why he is doing all of this," Steve said.

"Excellent point, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Okay, where is the Creel House? Maybe we can search for clues there," Nancy said.

"According to his file, it's located on Morehead Street," Agent Stinson replied.

"Maybe Vecna's still hiding in the house," Nancy said. "So, let's check it out."

"You guys are staying here," Lily said. "We'll check it out."

"I don't work for you anymore," Nancy replied. "So, you can't bench me. We're all in this together, and I'm going to help out whether you like it or not."

"I can't really argue with you, can I?" Lily sighed. "Fine, take Stinson."

"I'm going with you," Robin and Steve said before looking at each other. "Jinx!"

"Robin!" Nora exclaimed.

"Mother!" Robin exclaimed.

"Robin!" Robert scolded has daughter.

"Eddie!" Eddie burst out, causing them to look at him. "I'm sorry, I thought we were doing something here."

"Sorry, mombie, but I have to go. What if Steve trips on like grass or something, which I'm sure is all that's going to happen? You know how he is with the concussions," Robin said.

"He does get those a lot," Nora said and frowned. "I suppose some people do have to stay here. Although, I wish it were you two. I wish none of us were going. Hell, I wish none of this was happening!"

"Mombie! We got this," Steve said and flashed her his most charming smile.

"Oh, my babies!" Nora exclaimed as she hugged them tightly. "I know it's not possible, but sometimes it seems like I pushed you out together myself and at the same time with the way you two act. Look after each other."

"I'm going with you too," Dustin said.

"And I don't think my mom is going to let me go anywhere," Max chuckled.

"I'll stay here," Lucas said.

Suddenly, Holly came into the room with Mayhem and Tews following after. She quickly jumped into Eddie's lap while the cats did the same.

"Well, I guess I'm staying here too. Sorry, my loves," Eddie said.

"Mayhem says you're not allowed to leave," Holly said.

"Is that so?" Eddie asked in amusement.

"She said so, Teddy!" Holly exclaimed.

Karen stood up, her head held high as she gazed at her daughter. Nancy's eyes widened.

"I'm going with you too," Karen said.

"Mom!" Nancy said.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You need a parent with you all if you're going. It's time you kids stop going through this by yourselves," Karen said. "I know you're all more than capable of doing this by yourself, but that doesn't mean you should."

"Like mother, like daughter," Eddie said and Ted snorted.

"Isn't that the truth," Ted said. "I couldn't stop you two even I wanted to which I don't. Our daughter is going to do this whether we like it or not. She's going to follow through, and you're going to follow her. Please come back in one piece. Like Mike, I like to keep the complete set and in pristine condition. Shit, he's not here to hear that."

Karen squeezed her husband's arm gently. Nancy guessed over the years that she learned when to tell when her husband was worried. Karen surprised them all by kissing Ted in front of everyone and then kissed his broken nose. Nancy wondered if, after 20 years , could someone finally fall in love with their spouse? She noticed now that there was a definite twinkle in her mother's eyes whenever she looked at Ted.

"We'll be fine, Ted. You worry too much," Karen grinned, and Ted actually laughed.

Nancy was surprised. She had never seen this sort of interaction from her parents before. Mike will never believe it until he sees it. She grinned and gave Eddie a kiss before moving aside to let Steve do the same. Eddie grinned at Steve and then down at the yellow sweater that he had slipped on last night. Steve rolled his eyes and pulled it off, revealing a blue polo underneath. He handed the sweater over, and Eddie quickly slipped it on, purring happily.

"You're so cute," Steve said fondly.

Karen disappeared up the stairs and came back down with a gun. It was a 45. Nancy looked at her mother in surprise.

"What? You're not the only Wheeler who can hide guns in her bedroom," Karen said.

"Where did you learn to shoot?" Nancy asked.

"I didn't learn from anyone. I taught myself," Karen replied.

"Hey, Nance," Eddie grinned. "What did you get from Ted? . . . No, offense, Mr. Wheeler."

"None taken, son, you're only telling the truth," Ted replied, and he smiled at Karen.

Jesus, they must have found some time to have a serious discussion because there was more life in her parents' relationship than she had ever seen before. They went outside and decided to take Nancy's car. Nancy stepped back and frowned. Didn't she leave her car at the apartment?

"Oh, Ted drove it back when Steve went to pick up Mayhem while you were and Eddie were busy," Karen smirked. "We need more vehicles, just in case."

"Mom!" Nancy exclaimed. "Okay, I really wish you were getting onto me instead because I don't like this. What's gotten into you?"

Karen smiled as she slid into the driver's seat. Nancy slid in next to her while the others slid into the back. Steve waved the shotgun and the bat he pulled from his car. Nancy grinned as she glanced at him from the rear view mirror.

"I know it's going to sound sappy, but I think of this is making me realize what's truly important," she said. "And I realize now that the one who's been holding me back wasn't Ted. . .it was me. If I want to change anything about my life, it has to be me who puts that step forward, and I know Ted isn't going to stop me. I never thought to ask for what I wanted because I didn't really know. For the longest time, I thought it wasn't Ted, I always doubted myself because I thought I only married him because everyone was telling me not to. I realized that the one other person who was telling me not to love him was me. It only took me 20 years, but when I imagined him dying like those kids, I realized I really loved him. I also realized I was making myself and Ted unhappy because of my own shortcomings."

"Oh, mom, that's great. I'm really happy for you and dad," Nancy said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You know, it made your dad realize some things too. Like he spent his whole life fighting other people, and he fought in the war too that after a while, he kind of stopped trying to do, well, anything. He didn't realize he's kind of been slacking at home, too. He says he wants to try more and work on this relationship, too. I told him he's done so much for this family, and he works so hard, but he still thinks he can do more. In fact, he's asked me . . .," Karen said, biting her lip.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"He wants to do a vow renewal," she said. "You know, after this."

"That's great, Karen!" Steve interjected, his eyes lighting up.

"I think Steve wants to plan it, Mrs. Wheeler," Dustin said.

"Shut up, man," Steve hissed.

"I was planning on asking you, anyway," Karen said in amusement.

"Yes!" Steve exclaimed.

"Low key, though, nothing fancy. Casual with a few family and friends," Karen said, and Steve saluted.

Nancy smiled at her mom. She realized that for the first time, she was seeing her mom really happy. Her hair wasn't up in a perfect updo. It was actually in a messy ponytail, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Still, her clothes were bright, but they were also casual, perfect to run in. Maybe it was the fact that Karen had been trying so hard to be picture-perfect to the world that had made her miss out on so many wonderful things. There were bigger things to worry about now, and Karen didn't need to worry about those things anymore. At least, they're not the most important things to worry about anymore. Nancy and the others jumped when someone tapped on the glass. She turned around to find Lucas peering into the window, and she rolled it down.

"Oh, good, you're still here. Max said to tell you that she saw in Vecna's mind a stained glass window with a rose on it. Maybe look for that when you try to find the house," Lucas said and then handed her a bag. "Flashlights."

"That's helpful, thank you," Nancy said and waved at him.

"Good luck," Lucas said.

"You too," Nancy said.

Karen pulled out of the drive and started heading towards Morehead Street with the help of Agent Stinson's directions. As they road down Morehead, they found the house almost immediately. Not only did it look abandoned for years, but it also gave off some creepy energy, almost as if it were announcing that something bad happened here. Nancy shuddered at the sight of it as the sun sank down behind it. Shit, it was almost nighttime again. Has it really been almost two days since Chrissy Cunningham died? It certainly felt longer. She grabbed her shotgun and her flashlight as they moved toward the house. As they moved, the memory of Hopper presenting her with the shotgun popped into her head, of Hopper telling her to keep it from her parents and laughing at his guilty look that this had to be necessary. God, she missed him.

Steve stood at her side, his own bat raised as he looked at her. It almost seemed as if he knew what she was thinking. It seemed like that a lot, actually. She was glad that he was here but at the same time she wished he was safe. She was glad Eddie was back at her parents' house. She wished they were all safe, but it didn't really matter where anyone was. No one was safe. Wasn't that the illusion? No one is ever really safe. She calmed her swirling mind and moved forward. The six of them walked up the porch steps of the run-down Victorian house. The front door was all boarded up, but luckily, there was a hammer lying around. Nancy and Steve pulled the board away, revealing the stained glass window. Yeah, this was the house.

"Well, this isn't creepy at all," Steve said as they walked in, and he stood staring at the clock in the hallway.

"It's just like the clock from Max's hallucinations," Nancy muttered.

"Jeeze, he's obsessed with clocks. Is he some sort of clockmaker?" Steve asked.

"I think you cracked the case, Steve," Dustin said sarcastically.

"It's not totally far off, Dustin," Nancy grinned.

"Really?"

"You can believe in another dimension, but you can't believe that this guy is a clockmaker?" Nancy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Shit, you may have a point," Dustin said.

"She may have a point? She does have a point," Robin said.

"I love it when you come to my rescue," Steve whispered in Nancy's ear. "It's so sexy."

Nancy giggled and kissed him quickly before moving to look around some more with Robin.

"They just left everything here," Nancy said.

"Including the mice!" Robin screeched as she wrapped her arms around Nancy as one ran in front of her. "Where's Mayhem when you need her?"

"Oh, Mayhem is useless with catching mice," Nancy said in amusement. "She always tries to befriend them."

"And then Eddie tries to keep them," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Your cat is failing at her job, Steve," Robin said.

"Maybe we should dock her pay," he said sarcastically and Nancy giggled.

"Roaches and spiders are the things she's good at catching. She hates them," Nancy said.

"What are we looking for here?" Karen asked Nancy.

"Any sign that this asshole is hiding here," Nancy said.

"And if he's hiding in that place that you mentioned?" Karen asked. "The Upside Down?"

"Well, then we find a way to lure him out and kill the son of a bitch," Nancy said.

"How are we going to do that without El?" She asked.

"I'm hoping that maybe we can buy El some time until she gets her powers back and comes back home," Nancy said. "I still haven't quite figured out how to do that."

"We'll figure it out together," Karen said.

"We should split up," Nancy said. "Cover more ground."

"But remain in screaming distance," Robin said. "Come on, Karen."

"I guess I'm with you," Dustin said with a grin to Agent Stinson, and she just blinked at him. "You don't say much, do you? It's okay, I'll talk enough for the both of us."

To Nancy's amusement, Agent Stinson rolled her eyes up to the ceiling before following the young boy. They left Nancy and Steve downstairs. Nancy leaned her shotgun against the wall and wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck before pulling him into a deep kiss. He kissed her back, smiling into it, as he used one arm to support her. Nancy pulled back with a smile.

"For good luck," she replied.

"We're definitely going to need it," Steve said and looked at her with soft eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Nancy picked up her shotgun, and they began moving upstairs. They remained in the same hallway, but both checked two different rooms. Nancy was moving out of one room when Steve came stumbling out of the other room, trying to brush something off of him. Nancy steadied him by placing a hand on the small of his back.

"Yeah, don't go in there," Steve said, his face ashen. "Black widows."

He was still trying to get them off, brushing the back of his neck and his head.

"Hold still," Nancy said as she tried to pull the cobwebs out of his hair.

"You're won't find the spider eggs nesting in all that hair until they hatch, and all the babies start spilling out," Robin cackled evily as she entered the hallway.

"Robin!" Karen exclaimed.

"Seriously, Robin, what is wrong with you?" Steve asked, and Robin laughed again.

Nancy glared playfully at Robin and pinched her neck.

"You know he's scared of spiders," Nancy said.

"Ow!"

"I'm not scared of them per se, I just respect them too much to not go anywhere near them," Steve scoffed, and Nancy rolled her eyes.

They continued on with the search, and the lights from their flashlights eventually led them to the attic. It made Nancy think of Joyce with the Christmas lights and how she had communicated with Will when he was the Upside Down.

"He's here," Nancy said. "And he's there."

They stood in the middle of the attic and watched as their flashlights grew brighter until finally they exploded. Suddenly, Nancy was falling into darkness. She was falling and falling until she fell all the way into Steve's empty vine covered pool.

"You know, I usually remember all the people that I kill," a deep dark voice spoke to her in the darkness of the Upside Down. "You, Nancy Wheeler, seem to have forgotten."

There was a figure leaning against the wall. Nancy moved closer, only to find Barb lying dead at the bottom of the pool. Vines were spilling out of her open mouth. She stumbled back in shock, sick to her stomach.

"Barb," she gasped, and tears prickled beneath her eyelids before letting them burst open in anger. "Her death wasn't our fault!"

"Is that you tell yourself to make it feel better?" Vecna asked.

"How were we supposed to know what was out there in the dark?!" Nancy exclaimed.

She struggled to remember what her favorite song was, but there were so many of them that she liked. It was hard to choose.

"Oh, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. . .Excuses!" Vecna snapped.

"What do you want from me?!" Nancy screamed.

"Patience. . . We have so much in common, Nancy. . . I truly do not care who I hurt to get what I want. People, they're nothing but ants to us, right?" Vecna asked.

Nancy looked for a way out and found the ladder. She jumped up and tried to climb out, but a vine wrapped around her waist. Suddenly, she was standing in front of the open gate in the Hawkins' lab.

"You wanted justice, but what you really wanted was vengeance. You wanted them to suffer the way you that you were. The one thing that's different about us. Guilt. . .it's such a trivial emotion. Why let that stand in the way of greatness? You almost set me free. . . Oh, Hawkins would have been mine, and if El hadn't come home then. . .what would have happened? Your mother, your sister. . .your brother. . .oh, I would have enjoyed toying with them. . .Together, you and I could be great together. You didn't even have any powers, but somehow, with pure determination, you brought the lab to their knees. Join me, and I can give you power," Vecna said. "You can stand beside Eddie when the time comes. You two will be my greatest creations."

"And Steve?" Nancy asked, her jaw clenched.

"Oh, I have plans for Steve. Don't you worry about that," Vecna said.

Suddenly, she could see it now, Eddie was straddling Steve’s waist in the Upside Down. Eddie's eyes were red, and wings sprung forth from his back. Blood dripped from his fangs. His clawed hands gripped Steve’s head, and with one quick motion, he snapped Steve’s neck. Nancy screamed. Eddie stood up, another version of Nancy was by his side, her own eyes red. The real Nancy turned and ran.

"Steve is nothing but a man, and much like Papa, he too sought greatness in others, but he is nothing. . . Nothing compared to you and Eddie," Vecna said. "Though, I suppose I wouldn't have known about Eddie if it weren't for you. If it weren't for your change of heart. In a way, the only good thing that Steve Harrington did was lead me to both of you. . .if Eddie Munson hadn't inadvertently called out to his own sister, I wouldn't have known about him. He didn't even know what he was doing."

Suddenly, she was standing in the freezer again, and it felt strange to be back here after so many months. It was even stranger to be looking down on her, Steve, and Eddie.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to leave Wayne all alone," Eddie whispered softly. "I'm sorry."

Nancy felt like someone was squeezing her heart, and she reached out to touch Eddie. She wanted to tell him it was okay. Her fingers brushed his cheek, and the image of them evaporated. She turned around to find a slimy, vine covered monster standing in the doorway. He walked closer to her, reaching out with his long clawed hand.

"Join me, Nancy," Vecna said. "There's so many things that you still need to know before we get started. There's something that you need to tell El."

His clawed hand was reaching for her, and there was nowhere to run to. Suddenly, Steve’s voice came through crystal clear. He was singing, and there was panic in his voice. He was crying too.

"I hear the drums echoing tonight, but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation. She's coming in at 12:30 flight. The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation."

Nancy smiled. Africa by Toto. Of course. He remembered. A doorway opened up behind her, and she glanced at it for a moment before turning back to Vecna. He already knew what she was thinking.

"You will be back to hear the message. It's in your nature," Vecna said. "So curious. Just like me."

For a moment, an image appeared in her mind. Four gates opening up and spreading throughout Hawkins, dividing the town. Four chimes rang put like Max's hallucinations. Four gates. Four chimes. Four victims. Nancy gasped and then glared at him.

"Go to hell," she said, flipping him off as she fell backward into the open doorway.

She let Steve’s voice guide her home. Suddenly, she was in the arms of her sobbing mother and boyfriend. Nancy burst into tears as she held onto Steve.

"Steve," she gasped.

"I'm here, baby, I'm right here," Steve said.

Then she screamed.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

I bless the rains down in Africa

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

Chapter Twenty-Five

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 5

Cw: pregnancy, drinking, mentions of past alcohol abuse, casual mentions of sex and misogyny

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

The first day of prohibition finds Eva remembering an old parlor trick that led to a drinking problem when she learned it at seventeen.

They had gotten rid of their stash after some jackass claimed Eva was a communist and their house was raided in search of proof.

No one was getting rid of their liquor yet expecting the temperance movement to die out sooner rather than later, but Eva knew this well-intended bullshit was to last decades.

So when she greets Jack with a hair of the dog she learned in Mexico City, he asks how she got a perfectly aged bottle of Bushmills for it.

“I can turn certain drinks into alcohol.” She admits to Jack who claims his hair of the dog is much more efficient than the honey and milk drink Eva presented him with it.

“Bullshit.” He downed the tulip glass and admitted it tasted better than the prairie oyster he makes himself.

“How did you think I got the good shit last night?”

It had been a party like the ones she used to go to get so fucked up she couldn’t remember anything; this time she drank in moderation despite the temptation to lose herself.

She was a wife and a mother now, she had to keep herself upright for them if not for herself.

“Money, like everything else.” Jack answered wincing from his hangover.

He had drunk enough to kill an elephant to show that this tiger has not changed his stripes.

“That too, the wine from the year 1775 cost quite a bit.”

They had danced, they had fucked, and it took two men to help him into the cab to take them home. All the while he went on and on about how he hates the English, how he could fix someone’s film company with a snap of his fingers and at some point, proclaimed he was King fucking Midas and Eva was Aphro-fucking-dite.

“To think I drank from the wine George fucking Washington drank when they banned alcohol in America.” He says with a groan and pulls her back to bed looking to be coddled in his time of need.

“No better way to end the era of the God-given right of inebriation, if you ask me.”  The witch swallowed the sudden nausea she got from the stink of her hungover husband.

The myth of breastfeeding decreasing the chances of pregnancy is proven false as February rolls around and Eva finds herself sobbing violently.

All Jack had said was that he was needed at the Wall Street office and the next moment Eva was crying because he was leaving.

The witch and mother to the nine-month-old boys knew it was what she had feared most.

Eva was pregnant for a second time.

She had been completely blindsided by this as only her figure was getting back into order after the birth of the boys some seven months ago. Her monthlies had yet to be regular and on Christmas Eve she goaded him into playing the piano for her.

Jack’s mother used to play it, he’d learned some and claimed to have forgotten but had bought a piano in case Eva did.

No one had given it as much use as they did that night.

“Jesus, Evie, I’ll be back on Saturday.” Jack thinks it’s an overreaction, having forgotten when she berated him last year around this time for some reason as stupid as this one.

“No, I don’t think it’s that.” Eva still let him dry her tears and promise her things like something nice from the city and a good fuck before and after the trip. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Jack, much like the first time, personally drove her to the doctor to confirm it.

Not all men went, and Jack only claimed he went because Eva couldn’t exactly drive herself nor did he trust the doctor to keep his hands off his woman.

And sure, enough he hovers there as Eva is subjected to rather embarrassing tests, they are told the results of the urine will be back in a week or less and Eva is given instructions she will promptly ignore.

“What do you think it’s gonna be this time?” he asks looking so proud of himself for getting her knocked up again. As if they hadn’t had to pull over because lunch was repeating itself thanks to their sweet little baby.

“Girl, was thinking Rosemary for your mother.”

The twins’ first birthday finds them celebrating more than the boys’ first year of life.

Alvaro Obregon had taken Mexico City and Venustiano Carranza, the President who had declared her and her then living brothers traitors and ordered her arrest after returning to Mexico City in 1918, had been forced to flee.

In about a day he would be killed with the same number of bullets Francisco Madero had been assassinated with in 1913.

Even if she could be legally allowed to drink, she couldn’t do so due to her pregnancy.

It is not as horrible as she recalls her late sister’s pregnancy had been. Felicidad had endured so much only to die because the midwife and the doctor couldn’t come soon enough.

She has fears it will happen to her and while Jack did understand her fears somewhat, he didn’t think that sort of thing happens in America.

He forgets she lived in a city and had everything they could ever possibly want.

“I’m thinking we’re gonna need a bigger place.” He says stroking her belly, it is smaller thanks to Rosie just being one baby and she’s only begun to truly show. And Jack is still affectionate, but things have not been going good lately.

“Mhm, do you have a place in mind already or do I get to have a say in it?” Eva knows he likes to be in charge, from his office to the bedroom, everything must be how John Fitzgerald Nelson wants it.

It was the way things were, but not the way she wanted to live.

And he knows Eva makes her displeasure known when he overrides her decisions or doesn’t bother telling her something and she must find out a different way.

“Have a list of houses, we’ll see which one we like, and you get full control of the necessary changes to it and the decorating. It’s the wife’s job to do that, you know.” It is a pointed reminder, one that tells her this won’t be the end of it.

They’d never even had a squabble; everything ran smoothly and now her moods are in disarray and he is no longer as willing to let her have her way knowing she’s not made of glass.

He had not intervened at all in what he viewed as a woman’s things, but the moment Eva reminded him she was also member of her family’s company and his equal, Jack would sideline her. Especially if he was in company with other men.

It was fucking annoying.

Never mind the secretary he’d hired in New York who was too pretty to stay his secretary. Fucking Grace Burgess with her thing for gangsters.

She had married Clive MacMillan, a friend of Jack’s who had moved to Poughkeepsie, but something about this stranger just made her want to throttle her.

Perhaps they were enemies in a past life or their auras clashed, whatever it was made it impossible for her to even be civil to her. Perhaps it was the stench of death that only she seemed to smell on her like perfume.

“Don’t tell me you’re threatened by Grace, Evie. She’s not my type and I wouldn’t do that to Clive.” He assured her and the hand on her stomach went to her shoulders, holding her close as if to restrain her.

“I know, she’s too boring for your tastes, but it was a blonde and bland woman like her who got Anne Boleyn short of a head.” The witch pointed out as she smiled and pretended everything was fine to their guests.

Had they been Anne and Jane in their past lives? Is that why they hated each other instantly? Perhaps the smell of death was Jane’s ill luck passing onto her reincarnation?

Jack chuckled at her words, “And what a fucking fool Henry VIII was, if Queen Anne was anything like you, I wouldn’t have let her go.”

And yet King Henry did because Anne couldn’t give him more children, her miscarriages proved it.

Jack wouldn’t divorce her, Catholics like Jack don’t believe in it while Eva doesn’t really care as the Pope is her godfather, but he could take whores.

He’s tried before, but unlike then their marriage was still in the honeymoon phase and pregnancy made her ravenous. This time around, Eva couldn’t get her sexual drive to stay the same in the span of a fucking minute.

“That’s because you are Irish, if you were English, you’d be thinking she’s the one.”

All the houses so far have not spoken to her.

Jack is losing his patience with her. “This is exactly like the one we just saw, doll.”

As much as he loves his wife, she can be a pain in the ass.

They agree often; her job is to climb the ladders of society and he the ones in business. She’s done a stellar job, and he knows better than to interfere in her work, but she also wants to muscle into the business world.

It’s not that she wasn’t capable, he couldn’t manipulate the markets without her nor win over investors of little faith, its just this was a man’s world.

One day women will be welcome into their world, but it wasn’t this day.

Doesn’t help that he hired an attractive secretary to replace Grace because he needs something to dangle in front of those looking to take the crown he works so hard to have. If Eva knew Pamela was into women and knew him since he was Kennedy’s errand boy and her mother the cook, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge her.

The new house would keep her busy, distract her from the shit moods the baby gave her and when Jack comes home from Eva will be as she was before.

And if not, it should buy them some time until Rosemary is born and see what happens then.

“It’s not, the other one had a smaller veranda nor a garage like this one.” The witch countered as she led him to something better than the maids’ rooms being far from their room.

Jack could only whistle in approval.

The garage was definitely something, large for two or more vehicles and a built to perfection workshop. Connected to the house so they won’t have to brave the elements coming in and out of it, had its own washroom to clean himself up and the master bedroom directly above it.

Could fix up his roadster for a race or two rain or shine while keeping the Rolls Royce as good as new.

He could also fuck Eva without thinking Alice and Mary can hear them and the boys will need the space to run around.

If Eva said no, he’ll be buying it anyways.

“See, I told you.” The witch takes in his delight at the garage to prove her point. “I need a sitting room for myself, and you need this car enthusiast’s dream.”

“Could’ve saved us the time by seeing this beauty first.” He points out.

First thing he’d do was fuck Eva in the Rolls Royce before taking her up to the bedroom. Maybe punish her for wasting his fucking time looking at the six other houses.

“You’re hardly home these days, needed an excuse to have you all to myself.” Eva admitted with a sly grin.

With a garage like this, he’s gonna have a hard time leaving.

[ravewing]

easy books

war and peace was stressing me a little bit because the font they used in the book i bought is like size zero point seven or something ridiculous. and also even though its not as difficult to read as the historical biographies and whatnot that i normally read i was still having to go back and reread entire chapters because i kept getting the characters and events and words all mixed up right

so after i got 60 pages in or something i was saying to myself 'well im like. five percent done with this book now' so i deserved a reward and i was just going to reread JUST ONE wof book for fun (darkstalker legends. also it reminded me of how much i hate darkstalker and how much i absolutely love thoughtful and also indigo ps i also cried. maybe ill yap ab that book later)

but then after i finished that there were still a lot of hours left in the day and really what was i going to do, go back to war and peace after only two hours?? fuck no i needed a vacation you guys come on

so now im rereading arc two over again because its been like three or four years since the last time i did so. currently halfway through winter turning at the moment but you know what i earned this treat ok guys.

i havent sat down and read a silly easy book in so long (lie btw i reread the lost heir a few months ago but that doesnt count). like since last november i have been nonstop reading historical nonfiction grown up complex books so being able to relax and read a little kiddie small words book series like wof again is so oughh im literally cruising rn guys.

maybe ill buy the warrior cats book series because i only read the first arc of that and that was way back when i was in third grade. so like seven years ago jesus christ. easy books they could NEVER make me hate you