#this show is just comforting in the way murder she wrote is for me

[maybe-boys-do-love]

PAT GOT SHOT AGAIN!!!

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[holdmytesseract]

Guardian Angel

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When Pamela Milton makes the big mistake to threaten Daryl and his family, the archer isn't afraid of protecting what's his - at all costs.

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, violence, blood, choking, injuries, threatening a baby, attempted murder & murder, mentions of birthing a baby, protective dad!Daryl, fluff & babies!

Set in Season 11!

Word Count: 3,4k

a/n: I wrote this for @dixonsstinkysock , 'cause she was so excited about dad!Daryl, hehe. Thank you for the inspiration! I LOVED writing this! Hope you like it, too.

Disclaimer: Some words of the interaction between Carol and Daryl aren't mine. I just used them to fit the plot.

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

A father... He got blessed with becoming a father. Never ever - not even in his wildest dreams would've Daryl thought that the end of the world was going to bring this his way. Never. And yet here he was. It was incredible and borderline unbelievable. The archer would've scoffed and laughed into everybody's face who told him that in the beginning of this shit show.

Daryl buttoned up the fresh black grayish shirt he was just forced to slip into. Kudos to the tiny bundle of joy who had gotten to see the light of the world only a mere week ago and decided to 'burp' milk all over his shoulder. Daryl forgot to use a burp cloth; still adjusting to this whole new situation.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, as deft fingers worked the buttons.

The archer's heart was close to exploding with all the love he felt for you and his baby girl.

"What got you smiling so cute?"

Your sudden remark catapulted Daryl out of his thoughts. He finished the last button on the shirt, then lifted his head properly. His eyes met your frame; standing in the doorway - and it was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were wearing one of his sweaters, sweatpants and fluffy socks. Clothes who did not tick many boxes besides being absolutely comfortable. Comfort was all you cared about at the moment - understandably. Besides the easy access to your daughter's food source, of course. Speaking of her... She was neatly tucked against your body to provide body warmth; hands cradling her bum and head. Eyes closed and most likely sleeping; milk drunk and satisfied.

He merely shook his head; still smiling. "Nothin'. Jus'..." Daryl crossed the short distance between you and him. One hand gripped your hip gently, the other cupped your cheek. "...this. You. Our daughter." His oceanic blues gazed into your Y/E/C ones. "Ain't never been happier in my life, I think." Daryl's words caused you to smile as well. Turning your head slightly, you kissed his palm. "Me too. Even more now since we go back home." He nodded in agreement, "Yeah. 'S gon be perfect." and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against your forehead. His goatee tickling your skin.

"I love you, Dar."

Although he heard you say it about a million times by now, his heart never failed to skip a beat. "I love ya, too, sunshine." His eyes flickered to the newborn in your arms. "Both 'a ya." You smiled; eyes speaking the language of pure, unbridled love.

"'M gonna go check if the others are ready. 'N I gotta get my bike, too," the archer said; thumbs caressing your soft, delicate skin. You nodded. "Sure, go. I'll get everything ready here. Could you send Jude and RJ over? They have to check their room again and make sure they got everything." "'M gonna send the kids over, yeah, but you, darlin', ain't gonna do anythin' besides movin' yer cute ass over to the sofa 'n lay down."

A last loving look was exchanged before he grabbed his angel-winged vest, slipped inside the signature piece of clothing and left.

You wanted to open your mouth and say something in protest but Daryl was quick to leapfrog you. "Nah. No buts. Yer gonna rest. Yer body is still recoverin' 'n we got a long way home." You sighed, but nodded; knowing that arguing wouldn't get you further. Plus, you couldn't deny that your partner was actually right.

"Okay, yeah. I'm gonna lay down." Daryl smiled, "Good girl." and dipped his head to bestow a soft kiss on your lips before he let go of you. His thumb brushed over one tiny foot of his daughter; safely confined by the romper she was wearing. "I won't be long," he promised; marveling at the baby's smallness. You watched Daryl with yet another smile. How his eyes stuck on the tiny girl. His gentle touch. "Yeah, I know."

He had managed to make it a one on one; killing one of the men. The clearly weaker fighter. The other one was stronger and harder to defeat. One moment of negligence was enough to get into a predicament. That was the moment the guy became a problem. He gained the upper hand and had the archer now pinned to the concrete floor; choking him. Daryl tried hard to fight it. He couldn't and wouldn't die. He had a family to look after now. To protect. To provide for. You and his newborn daughter.

Little did the archer know that he was going to fight for his life only a few minutes later...

He had reached the meeting point; carriage completely abandoned and messy. Wooden boxes laid on the ground with their content mostly destroyed and distributed on the ground. No Maggie. No Hershel. No Jude or RJ. Nobody. Daryl frowned, kicked down the pedestal of his bike to park it and immediately started to analyze the scene; quite confused. The traces led him into the warehouse behind the scene, but he didn't have the time to 'investigate' any further. Two men sneaked up on him - the perfect ambush. Before Daryl could even blink, he found himself in a fight again. Two against one - not even remotely fair, but not really a problem for the experienced fighter. Yet.

"They got the kids, Maggie," Daryl panted and breathed hard to get air back into his lungs. His eyes met the ones of his best friend; showing his gratitude. "They got everyone," Carol stated. Daryl's eyes widened to the size of plates as the meaning of his friend's words hit him like a truck. If Pamela's men tried to abduct everyone of the group, it meant... "Y/N..." Daryl gasped. "Fuck. I gotta go. I gotta check on 'em." Carol nodded in understanding. "Go, but be careful, yeah? Don't act headless. I know you." Daryl merely nodded; already halfway disappearing around the corner. Carol looked after him with a worried look. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea to split up.

No, he wasn't going to die. Not today. Not here. Not now. And certainly not because of this asshole.

Help was just around the corner, though. Carol, who apparently had the same thought as him, appeared behind the men and used a slat to hit the prick on the head who was currently choking her best friend. Daryl got quickly up and grabbed his knife - just in time to watch the man he killed take a bite out of his former colleague. It was an easy task to get rid of the threat then; driving his weapon through both men's skulls.

Daryl more or less ran back to the house in which he shared an apartment with you. He hurried up the steps as fast as his legs carried him - only to find the door slightly ajar. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage; almost bursting at the sight. He already feared the worst, but then the signature cries of his baby urged to his ears. Without hesitation, he stormed inside.

The scene he walked into made his blood boil. The apartment was messy; signaling the archer that you had clearly been involved in a fight as well. His eyes frantically searched for you. It didn't take him long to do so... A man had pinned you to the wall beside the sofa and crib. One hand firmly around your throat, the other trying to reach for the tiny girl in the grip; attempting to cover her mouth to keep her cries muffled. Wheezing breaths left your lips as you tried to stay conscious. Your hands wrapped around the man's wrist as he choked you; scratching and pulling. Your legs kicked repeatedly against the shins of the man, but all of it wasn't quite helping. Usually, you had no problem to fight a man - or more. Daryl had taught you very well, but right now you didn't stand a chance. Not after birthing a baby only a few days ago. Your body was still recovering and not strong enough for a fight.

Daryl balled his hands to fists; jaw clenching. The primitive urge to protect his woman and child stronger than ever before. He was about to absolutely lose it and run over to fight the man who hurt his family - but then your eyes flickered up and landed coincidentally on your partner. Out of instinct, your eyes widened and you started to wriggle even more against your opponent's death grip - a mistake. Your understandable but obvious behavior blew Daryl's cover; took him the advantage of going unnoticed away.

The intruder noticed, of course and looked over his shoulder to witness the archer on the verge of storming over. Unfortunately wasn't the man stupid. He let quickly go of you; carelessly, and took a step to the left - towards the crib with his hands hovering about the crying infant inside. "One step closer and the baby dies!" The man yelled, causing Daryl to literally freeze in his movements. The archer threw him a death glare; heart racing in his chest. Fear and anger pumped adrenaline through his whole system.

"Touch 'er 'n I kill ya," Daryl growled through gritted teeth. "Try me," spat the man in return. The tension was thick; cuttable with a knife.

You sat on the floor; body slumped against the wall. Your strength was running so low that you weren't even able to keep yourself on your feet. Especially not after being halfway choked to death. You barely registered the conversation and stare contest between your attacker and partner since your body was too occupied in getting air back inside your lungs. You coughed; breathing hard and unsteady. It broke Daryl's heart to see you like that... In pain and suffering. He wanted to hurry over to you. Help you. Make sure you were okay, but he couldn't risk it. He'd never forgive himself if this innocent, tiny life got hurt because of him.

Your body may have been weak, but your motherly instincts strong. The cries of your baby - cries of helplessness and discomfort sent you into a frenzy. "P-Please, don't, please..." You stammered out; tears gathering in your eyes. "T-That's my baby, p-please!" You were begging the man, while trying to heave your exhausted body closer to the crib. But he didn't have any of it. "Stay where you are! Nobody moves, or...!" He put his hands dangerously close to the tiny girl's neck. Both, you and Daryl knew that it wouldn't take much. She was barely a week old; still so tiny and fragile.

He had unlocked the animal inside of the archer with threatening his baby and its mother, and was now paying the price. With his life.

Daryl's brain worked feverishly to find a way to get both his girls safely out of the situation, while you kept whispering 'Please' over and over again like prayer.

"Whaddaya want?! Where did ya take the others?!" The archer started to indulge the man in a conversation; hoping to distract him enough to get his knife out of its sheath unnoticed. "Freeing the Commonwealth of a plague," the man hissed. Daryl shook his head; hand working subtle and precisely. "Ya didn't answer my question, ya prick. Where are the others?" "I don't know, scum! And I frankly don't ca- Ahhh!" A painful yelp slipped past the man's lips as he was forced to cut off his own sentence. Daryl's plan had been a success. He had freed his knife, took the risk - he had to, and threw said knife which was now plunged in the man's shoulder. It caused him to stumble a few steps back - away from the crib and the newborn inside. That was Daryl's start signal. He lunged forward to literally tackle the intruder to the ground. From that moment on, everything happened so fast. Fists colliding with skin and bones, until they were bloody and went to wrap around the throat. The man underneath Daryl was struggling and desperately trying to shove him off and away from him, but it was no use. Daryl was too strong; too dominant.

His heart clenched.

"Told ya I was gonna kill ya, prick," Daryl growled, pulled his knife out of the man's shoulder to pierce his skull with it instead, before he crawled off of the lifeless body. He quickly wiped his bloodied knuckles on his shirt and lifted himself off the ground to tend to his still crying baby. His fatherly instincts kicking into overdrive.

Daryl approached the crib; hovering over the wooden furniture. The tiny girl inside was wriggling around in her warm confines like crazy. Cheeks stained with tears and red from all the crying.

"Hey, lil' angel, dun cry," he whispered hoarsely yet gently and reached carefully inside to cradle the miniature human in his big hands. "Sh, sh, sh, 's all good. Daddy got ya, sweetpea." He lifted her up to lay her into the crook of his arm to provide some body contact and warmth in an attempt to calm her down. His pointer finger softly traced her cheeks and the small hands which were closed to fists with the even smaller fingers attached.

Once your breathing got even and regular again, one hand reached out to cover Daryl's - which was cupping the newborn's bottom to keep her safely tucked in his arm. You looked up; eyes meeting your partner's - and he knew. He saw the longing in your eyes. The urge. The need to hold your daughter. So, without a word, the archer maneuvered the baby girl cautiously in your arms. She protested at the short loss of warmth with a whine, but once she felt that her mama was close, the world was perfectly alright again. You buried your nose in the baby's tufts of chestnut brown hair; deeply inhaling her scent and pressing your lips repeatedly against the utter softness.

At her father's words, touch and comfort, the little girl calmed down. Her cries got quieter and quieter, until they faded into soft coos.

"S-She okay?" Your broken, shaky voice urged to his ears and he instantly looked up to face you. You were still sitting on the floor; wiping away some stray tears and trying to get a grip and grasp what just happened. Daryl hadn't forgotten about you. Of course not! He just thought it would be best to tend to his crying infant first. He nodded; eyes thoroughly scanning the baby's body again. "All good. She's fine, sunshine." A relieved breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lips.

The archer stepped over and sat down on the floor beside you; back propped against the wall. He opened his arm for you. "C'mere. Gotta make sure my woman is a'right as well." You didn't let yourself tell that twice. You slid closer - into Daryl's awaiting arm and cuddled against his side. His closeness (and your baby) being all you needed right now. He instantly tightened his grip around you; chapped but gentle lips peppering your forehead repeatedly with kisses. "'S okay. 'M here. I got ya," your partner whispered as he tried to offer as much comfort and love as possible. "Ain't lettin' anythin' happen to my family." You were still in a state of shock, so you said nothing at all and just held on to Daryl. Closing your eyes, you relished in his touch and inhaled his natural scent. Leather, smoke, something earthy and musky, and a touch of blood and sweat.

She was okay and safely back in your arms.

Daryl adjusted his position; was now seated behind you. His back against the wall, your back against his chest as you sat between his open legs. Strong arms pulled you protectively closer; tucking you neatly against his front.

"Ya okay, darlin'?" He muttered softly, as his thumbs started to rub soothing circles into the clothed skin of your sides. You nodded. Merely, but you nodded. The shock was the worst - besides the still lingering pain around your neck and throat. Daryl's eyes flickered over every visible body part of yours; making sure. They got stuck on your neck, of course, and saw the bruises forming already. He swallowed. Another wave of rage crushes into him. He was angry. Angry of Pamela for breaking the deal and kidnapping his friends and family. Angry of himself for not being here to help earlier. For letting this happen.

The archer's head dropped to your neck, where he peppered the bruised and hurting skin with gentle kisses. "'M sorry," he whispered. "'M so sorry. Shoulda been 'ere earlier. Then this wouldn't have happened. Fuck, should've never even left from the start..." His voice broke at the end; close to shedding tears.

You had listened to his every word. Your eyes watered as well. You shook your head and freed one hand from the now sleeping newborn in your arms to reach behind and cup Daryl's head; fingers buried in his curls. "It's not your fault, Dar. You couldn't know that this was going to happen..." "Dun care. Shoulda been here. 'S my job to protect the both 'a ya, 'n I failed. I dun even wanna know what would've happened if I didn't..." He trailed off and swallowed hard; unable to finish the sentence. It hurt too much. "Daryl..." You whispered his name and angled your head; lips brushing his stubbly cheek, then his lips. "Stop, baby. What happened happened. You can't change it. But we're alright, okay? We're here. We're alive - and whatever Pamela throws at us... We're gonna make it. We're gonna find the others and make it. Together. Like we always do."

Your heart sunk.

Daryl swallowed once more. You were right. He couldn't change the past, but the future. He swore to himself to protect you even better. And together you were going to make this. Like you always did. Starting over.

His lips searched and found yours; entangling them in a linger kiss filled with love and the promise to keep you and his baby safe - until the very last breath he was going to take on this godforsaken planet. You melted into the kiss. It gave you the strength and confidence you needed. It always did. Daryl was the bright and shining light in this dark world. Always was, and he always would be.

Once you ended the kiss, Daryl started to shift then; gently squeezing your sides to urge you on to stand up as well. "C'mon, sunshine. We should go, 'n find Carol." You nodded and started to move as well; Daryl helping you stand up. After all, you had a cute, tiny creature tucked in your arms... "Carol managed to flee? Thank god..." The archer nodded and grabbed the most necessary backpack you had packed - filled with baby stuff. Diapers, bottles, fresh clothes, blankets and such things. "Yeah, 'm glad too, but I think nobody else beside us made it to escape."

"W-We gotta find them. Help them." Daryl threw the backpack over his shoulder and took the tiny girl from your arms in his so that you were able to slip in your 'outdoor' clothes with your weapons attached. "And we will, sunshine," he promised you and lastly helped you slip inside the baby carrier with one hand. "We'll find each other again. 'S what we do. 'S what we always did. Ain't nothin' in this world is gonna keep us apart for long." Daryl maneuvered the little girl into the carrier. You made sure that she was safely and securely strapped inside; luckily still sleeping. "We're gonna safe 'em and Alexandria."

A surge of hope and confidence swept over you at his words. You took your partner's hand; intertwining your fingers and gave his big hand a squeeze. You nodded, "Let's go." and smiled. Daryl dipped his head to bestow another kiss on your forehead then gave you a small smile in return, before he started to guide you out of the apartment. You had to find Carol, find out where the others had been taken and then get the hell out of this place.

One thing was certain... The archer was done playing games.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixonsdarkelf @dixons-sunshine @negansbestie @bigbaldheadname @ellasdixon @loz-3 @imadisneyprincessiswear @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn @belitoxx @marvelcasey05 @stitchintimefan @whore4romance @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @cakesandtom @sweetz1919

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

���I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

[mejaemin]

unhappy ending - 7dream

wc: 2.2k

summary: 7dream as angst tropes/plotlines (a.k.a. the dreamies as things that make me sad)

warnings: not proofread, extreme angst, hurt/no comfort (mark: cheating, manipulation, toxicity) (renjun: hospitals, depictions of illness and having an unwell appearance) (jeno: depression, depression related habits) (donghyuck: enlistment, death, murder?) (jaemin: this one kinda has comfort? dystopia, implied death, suggestive/after sex) (chenle: a lot of toxicity, being used) (jisung: getting played, heartbreak, ghosting)

an: who let me do this. i am hurting so bad and im the one that wrote it ?!?! this is why i hate angst guys im never doing this again. gonna write the fluffiest of fluff now

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cheating!mark texts you every morning and night, sending sweet messages with the occasional song lyric or spider man quote, be it motivational or romantic. it’s arguably your favorite part of the day, looking forward to the message of the day and the next. it’s quite confusing however, when he texts you one day saying “goodnight angel, sleep well! gonna be in the studio tomorrow, i’ll pick u up on the way <3 love you gorgeous, see you tomorrow minjeong”… when you ask him about it, questioning who this minjeong is, he immediately shuts down any idea of cheating immediately. when you sit in the studio with him the following day, he’s in the booth recording some chords on his guitar when you look at his phone. unsurprisingly, there’s messages from a “minjeong <3”. upon opening them, you see texts and texts that go on for months. of course, you immediately start screaming at mark, sobbing and punching him with frustration at his unfaithfulness. with a big pout and gifts ready, he kisses your tears away, rocking you back and forth in his arms so sweetly, cooing as he convinces you it’s no one, bringing you to stay with him and ignore the many “i knew it” texts from your friends.

memory loss!renjun sits in the hospital bed, skin pale and sickly as he draws in a sketchbook with shaky hands. there’s countless cords and tubes attached to his body, the abundance of technology being the only thing keeping him alive. the nurse standing next to you places a hand on your shoulder, startling you and forcing you to turn away from the hospital door’s window.

“if you’d like, you can try again today. he’s been pretty stable recently.” her smile doesn’t even attempt to reach her eyes, and you know she’s only doing it to try (terribly) to comfort you.

you nod gently, reaching for the door handle. “mm. thank you, i’ll do that.”

when you open the door, he looks up, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you. “who are you? what are you doing here?”

you sit next to him, reaching for his hand, but he flinches and pulls it to his chest. “renjun… i- i’m sorry. i should have asked. i’m your girlfriend, we’ve been dating for three years, can you remember?”

he looks you up and down judgmentally, though it isn’t too intimidating when he’s as skinny as a twig. “no, i’m sorry, you must be mistaken. i’m very much single.”

just like that, your skin heats up with frustration and you have to fight back tears. turning on your phone, you turn it to him, showing your lock screen of the two of you. he only looks more confused, so you unlock it and begin scrolling through your gallery, swiping through photos upon photos of the memories between you two.

“do you really not remember any of this..? we’ve been dating for the past three years, we met in high school, donghyuck introduced us.. please tell me you remember, any of it.” your voice quivers, the tears falling freely now.

he shakes his head, albeit weakly. “no, i’m sorry i don’t remember any of this. are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

from your bag, you pull out a small framed piece of canvas paper. on it is a bouquet of your favorite flowers, renjun’s signature in the bottom corner. “junnie, do you remember painting this?” he nods gently. “you made this for me. it’s my favorite flowers, and you gave it to me on my birthday.”

“that.. doesn’t sound right. i create art for myself, not to gift to other people. i wouldn’t do that. how did you get that.”

you can’t even see what’s in front of you, heaps and heaps of tears falling from your eyes. this is the third week in a row, trying to help renjun regain his memories, and the third week it failed. no matter what you say, what you show him, it’s like you never existed. the nurse opens the door, suggesting you leave, and as she helps you out you leave the painting with him, hoping and praying he’ll be able to remember you and all the love you had for each other.

overwhelmed!jeno was the sweetest to you, always being there for you when you needed it. no matter what he was always a call away, if you needed him he was there. he paid attention to your every need, and kept tabs on just about everything relating to you. favorite color, movie, flower, clothing style, everything. he was genuinely the best boyfriend you think you’d ever encounter. he treated you so, so good, rubbing your feet when you were tired, taking care of you when sick, and buying you the cutest of gifts ‘just because’. you were the same way with him too, y’know. whenever he felt overwhelmed, whether it be from the attention of his peers or even his own thoughts, you always knew how to calm him down. he found a home in your arms, as did you with him. everyone around you could see how perfect you two were, saying that love was real because of you. it was like everything was perfect as long as jeno was by your side. however, every couple has a rocky patch, and it just seems that you guys couldn’t make it through. sometimes, jeno got too burnt out taking care of you, despite it being something he enjoyed, and fell into habits of not taking care of himself. he grew eye bags, sleeping all day and didn’t look or act anything like himself. the outside world along with all his responsibilities at home, and his own, nagging, overwhelming, intrusive thoughts became too much, and he found it a struggle to love himself, let alone another person. with all the love in your heart, you had no choice but to part ways with him in hopes of him getting better and finding himself again. you hoped that his future had you in it, but you doubt you can be in the picture when he enters the right state of mind.

bf!donghyuck who spent the past year living his best life with you, taking you out on extravagant dates and vacations to make as many memories as possible before his enlistment. he bought so many gifts, took so many photos, and left so many marks in your shared home to make sure you’d never miss him. despite joking about it all the time, he was scared and upset about it as well. whole writing a letter for every month he was gone, more than half ended up having tear stains on them. tucking the final one into the box and leaving it somewhere for you to find, he grabbed his bags and ran to the car, sitting in the passenger seat while you drove him to the site. the whole ride was filled with tears and pointless arguments, the dread consuming you both. a whole year and a half without your soulmate, the love of your life was something you truly couldn’t bare. once you arrived, you helped him grab his stuff and make his way to the place where you would depart. right before he made his way to the hundreds of other men he would be going with, he dropped his stuff and held you tightly in his arms, kissing all your tears away and blending them with his own, promising that it would go by quickly, like he was never gone. for the first couple months you believed it, uncovering pranks and hidden gifts from him throughout the time he was gone. however, the third month came, and his gift this time wasn’t funny, or cute at all. when you opened your tv that morning, the news channel popped up, the reporter giving a solemn expression as he relayed the news that your lover’s base, the place donghyuck was stationed at, had been attacked, majority of the soldiers there being killed. a list of names was revealed, and with your heart beating out of your chest and nausea waving through you, your eyes trailed down the list until it stopped. lee donghyuck, age 24, was in the list of soldiers who had died. your entire lifeline, the one who owned your entire heart, the man who reminded you of the warm sun, had lied to you. he was gone, and wasn’t coming back.

dystopian bf!jaemin is someone who you admittedly don’t know too well. the world is overheating, on the verge of ending, and the sky is bright orange, air smoky in the mid-day when you meet him. with 30 minutes left on earth, the announcement ringing through all devices and televisions in the world. laying on the hood of his car, watching smoke billow through the sky in the distance, he turns to you with a smile.

“y’know, i’m really happy i met you, girlfriend.” his skin is bare, a dirty blanket covering both of your exposed bodies. at this point, you couldn’t care less about your skin being dirty.. there’s thirty minutes until you die, and with your boyfriend of about five hours, the only thing you’re concerned about is getting all your firsts checked off before everything ends.

you smile back, resting your head on your arm. “me too, boyfriend. this couldn’t have gone any better.” he pulls you in ever so gently, kissing you once again. it’s quite embarrassing, being in your twenties and having never experienced anything romantic, but you and jaemin are in the same boat and you both can agree that it’s really nice.

“touché. say, why don’t we get to know each other with what time we have left, hm?” his hand caresses your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. you can feel his hands shaking against your skin, and you try not to let it but it makes you all the more nervous about what’s to come.

“of course, shoot.” pulling your shirt on, you sit up and he follows suit.

with your last thirty minutes on earth, you share the stories of your parents who succumbed to the wrath of the decaying planet and all the other funny stories of your lives. the end felt so lonely this past month, and as your phone alerts you of there being a minute left, you feel whole again despite your sadness and fear. finding someone so similar to you, relating to him and connecting with him in such terrifying moments makes you feel a lot less empty. as you count down, saying goodbye to your short life, you watch the world around you, including yourself, burn while in the arms of someone you never thought you’d have.

toxic!chenle who always kept you on his arm, yet that’s all he ever did for you. he never addressed you or looked your way, but he never let you create any distance between you and him. if anyone asked, you were “his lovely, beautiful girlfriend”, but as soon as heads turned you were nothing but an annoying pest who kept clinging to him. you asked to be loved, to feel appreciated, and he’d look at you, an unconvincing pout on his face as he held yours lovingly and convinced you he’d change and give you the love you deserve. he’d take you out on a date, spoiling you with every penny just to make a post about it and then kick you to the curb. he didn’t love you, you knew that, but his attention was everything to you. he treated you so well when eyes were on you two that it was all you needed to stick around, giving him all your love when to him you were nothing but a shiny new toy to parade around to his friends.

heartbreaker!jisung who reached out to you one day, saying he was a friend of a friend who wanted to get to know you. you’ve never had that happen to you before, being wanted, so you began talking to him. he was so sweet, a cute, shy boy who’s fails at flirting and romantic gestures were extremely charming. he swept you off your feet quickly, taking you on many dates and buying many gifts for you. this dragged on for a long time, and you were so happy to have someone by your side that you didn’t even think of the fact that he never asked to make it official until your friend brought it up. thinking things were going well, you called him and suggested giving your relationship a title. immediately his line went silent, giving you no response, only being able to hear his hyperventilating, before he hung up. you texted him and called many times, begging him to tell you what was up, but it all fell on deaf ears as he eventually blocked you on everything. you were left heartbroken without closure, only hearing what happened when a friend of his reached out, apologizing on his behalf. allegedly, he said he was too scared to have a real relationship and couldn’t be a boyfriend to you. you couldn’t believe your ears, or, eyes. he made you feel so loved, so seen, all for him to back out because he was too scared to love, too unready.

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perm taglist: @chenlezip

[nickeverdeen]

Aight could I perhaps get a platonic hermes x GN!reader imagine?

Yknow that one imagine you wrote where Joel beats up Reader's abusive father? Could we get a similar concept here, except instead of the dad being abusive, it's Reader's older sister?

Like, basically Reader befriends Hermes randomly one night when they're out on a walk to clear their head. Hermes just happens to show up. At first, he mainly "bothers" Reader for fun, but then they gradually warm up to each other and become friends.

One day, Hermes notices bruises and abrasions on Reader's skin, despite Reader trying to cover it up. They claim their sister's abuse is just her way of joking, and that she shows love through aggression. Hermes proceeds to confront Reader's sister. He doesn't necessarily have to beat her up, just ... teach her a lesson one way or another. To not mess with his favourite human. And maybe he comforts Reader at the end (optional).

Thanks!

Not a Bystander | Hermes x platonic!gn!reader

Pairing: Hermes x reader (platonic)

Type of fic: Hurt/Comfort, Found Family

Warnings: Emotional abuse (sibling), implied past trauma

Summary: A walk to clear your mind ends in an unlikely friendship with a god of mischief. But when Hermes discovers the bruises your sister left behind, the tricks stop - and he starts playing for keeps.

—————————————

You weren’t really sure what you were looking for when you left the house that night. Just… air, maybe. Space. Something that didn’t feel like clenched jaws and closed fists and words that hit harder than any hand ever did.

It was late. Stars were bright but cold. The path through the park was mostly empty, just you and the hush of leaves under your shoes.

And then-

“Well well well,” a voice purred, like silk draped over a knife. “Isn’t this a delightful surprise. A lonely little mortal, out past bedtime.”

You stopped walking.

There, leaning lazily against a lamppost that wasn’t there five seconds ago, stood a boy. No—man? guy?—he was hard to pin down. Wild curls, mischievous eyes, a grin that could get away with murder and probably had. Wings. Tiny, actual wings fluttered at his heels.

“…You lost?” you asked.

“I never get lost,” he replied with mock offence. “I just occasionally detour through mortals’ lives to keep things spicy.”

You stared. “Right.”

“I’m Hermes.” He held out his hand, which you didn’t shake. “God of travelers, thieves, and questionable decisions. You?”

You blinked. “You’re what?”

“Greek god. Divine mischief. Patron of headaches and really, really bad ideas.” He winked. “Which means befriending me would be a terrible decision. Lucky you.”

“…I didn’t say anything about being friends.”

“No, but you will. Eventually.” He strolled beside you like you’d invited him. “Tell me, what’s got you out here all broody and poetic at this hour?”

You didn’t ask how he knew your name. You just walked.

At first, he was annoying. Popping in at random, teasing you mid-thought, calling you names like “walking mood swing” and “my favorite dramatic mortal.” He talked too fast and too much, stealing your peace but filling the silence with something brighter.

And then… you started looking forward to it.

He always showed up when you needed distraction most. He had this way of making the world feel less heavy, like it was all just one big elaborate joke he’d let you in on. Somewhere between the sarcastic banter and his cocky, chaotic swagger, you started to laugh again. To breathe again.

You didn’t tell him everything. But he knew something wasn’t right.

He noticed the way you flinched at loud noises. The way you always looked behind you. The way you pretended like bruises didn’t hurt and biting words were “just jokes.”

And then one night, he saw them.

You hadn’t meant to let him. You thought the hoodie sleeves were long enough. But when he blinked into existence next to you and bumped your arm, you winced—and the cuff slipped up.

His eyes dropped. His voice stopped mid-sentence.

“…Huh.”

You froze. “What?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Then: “Who did that?”

You tugged the sleeve down. “It’s nothing.”

“Try again.”

You didn’t meet his eyes. “My sister. She’s just… rough, you know? That’s how she is. It’s her way of… loving, I guess.”

The silence that followed was unnatural. Like the world itself paused.

When you looked up, Hermes wasn’t smiling. Not even a little.

“I see,” he said quietly.

And just like that - poof - he was gone.

You found out later what happened. She never told you directly, of course. But she stopped hitting. Stopped yelling. Started giving you space.

You’d overheard a phone call, once. Her saying something about someone showing up at her work, smiling way too wide, casually reminding her how easy it was to make people disappear. How thin the line was between memory and myth. How fragile humans were, especially the cruel ones.

You never doubted who it was.

When Hermes came back, he acted like nothing happened.

“You should’ve seen the look on her face,” he said, balancing upside down mid-air like physics was just a suggestion. “Like someone licked her soul.”

“Did you threaten her?”

He gasped, hand to his chest. “Me? I would never.”

You arched an eyebrow.

“…Okay, mildly. But I’m a god of words. I didn’t have to touch her. I just reminded her who she’s messing with.”

“And who is she messing with?”

He floated closer, just enough that you could see the rare flicker of seriousness in his eyes.

“My favorite mortal,” he said. “And if anyone touches you again, they’re going to learn what divine punishment really looks like.”

Your throat tightened.

“Why?” you asked softly. “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “You’re fun. You’re real. And you laugh at my jokes, which makes you rare and valuable. Also, if the world breaks you, who else is gonna call me out on my bullshit?”

You smiled a little. He grinned.

“Now,” he said, standing upright with a theatrical stretch, “I know a place where time moves backward and the stars taste like strawberries. Wanna go?”

You hesitated. Then nodded.

And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

[convolutings]

Look don’t get me wrong I love the PJO TV show. The cast is perfect and some moments that were added I absolutely loved. But… there are some things I felt were so well done in the book there was no need to change it and I’m a little disappointed by the adaptation’s version.

Some of these takes I saw from other people and it put into words what I was feeling so I’m just expanding on what they said.

1. Gabe could’ve been worse. We are supposed to get mean Smelly Gabe vibes and Sally isn’t supposed to feel comfortable standing up to him. I understand “girl boss” and disneys restrictions but it still wasn’t great. I’m hoping they add something towards the end so his murder feels deserved.

Edit: upon a rewatch I take this back and believe Gabe was still abusive, if not physically as in the book, but as manipulative and demanding which is still abuse so I actually appreciate the changes they made now.

2. Sally felt off. Like they read her plot points but didn’t understand her character. She is wholesome and kind and devoted to Percy. The Sally we know never would’ve put that much pressure on Grover, plus him putting the pressure on himself is vital to his character. They also made her seemingly pine for Poseidon. They shouldn’t have changed the way she described her relationship with him and the choices she made to keep Percy safe. (I will say though that the Jesus joke was perfect and hilarious)

Edit: upon rewatch I still believe the wholesomeness was lost a little but I have come to like her character more and think these changes allow for greater depth into Sally’s story which I’m excited for.

3. We should’ve gotten Percy remembering the warm glow of Poseidon. I thought it was important that Poseidon broke the rules and came to see Percy when he was a baby and had that memory.

4. Percy thinking that Annabeth looked like a goddess when he first saw her was so cute and said a lot about how he viewed her. I think they should’ve kept it.

5. I think Luke being the one to guide Percy around the camp was a great choice, but Annabeth should’ve been part of welcoming scenes. And Grover should’ve been the one to tell the story of Thalia.

Edit: Episode 3’s reveal of Grover’s story was genius I take this back!

6. The claiming in the book was perfect! There was no reason to change the dialogue or have the trident not be the way it’s originally described. And seeing the campers reactions/having them bow down was important. I was underwhelmed tbh.

7. Percy is SMART! He was the one to put together that Sally was alive and agree to the quest in order to get her back. There was no reason for Grover to be the one to do it.

Otherwise it was wonderful. I still love it immensely and the care into the heart of the show I feel is still there. I can’t wait for next week!

And yes, I know Rick wrote the episodes and was a part of every single choice that was made so if he wants to leave something out obviously he knows his story the best this is just my opinion.

[toysrguts]

sally face hc's!!!!

been putting off posting this for god knows what reason sally face fandom plz 🙏🙏🙏

sal:

•cuts his own hair with safety scissors

•his fav food is dino nuggets idc sue me

•runs his own lowkey piercing business. he even pierced larrys ears and ashleys nostril. he wants to make it a career in the future

•somehow so good at comforting everyone but himself

•always knows what to say when someone's having a hard time, probably cuz hes been through a lot and can easily put himself in others shoes

•always really reserved and shy until him and larry go to a concert together

•cares more about price than looks so most of his stuff doesnt match at all

•most, if not all of his clothes are from thrift stores

•most inconsistent sleep schedule ever. sometimes he goes to bed early and sleeps like a baby, other nights hes restlessly playing his gearboy until the sun comes up

•regular cigarette smoker, but will only smoke weed if larrys with him

•so fucking awkward but always has good intentions. bro just cannot communicate for shit

•when he meets new people he likes to freak them out with his glass eye when they least expect it

•definitely a big industrial fan (NIN, skinny puppy, KMFDM, etc) but his favorite band is korn

•also loves music from the late 70s-early 80s that he grew up hearing on the radio cuz it reminds him of the good memories he had with his mom

•his earth shattered when kurt cobain died

•started watching so much mtv after meeting larry cuz he wanted to be more educated on his kind of music

•his shoes are covered in doodles and signatures from the group

•theyre also hanging on by a thread cuz theyre old as shit and hes had them since grade 6 💀

•has a small collection of custom prosthetic eyes with different colors and cool shapes in them and stuff

•when he meets new people he likes to freak them out with his glass eye when they least expect it

•takes halloween VERY seriously

•writes songs for ppl he cares about and plays them on his guitar

•he wrote a song for ash once and she still asks him to play it for her every now and then

•typa fella to never cuff his pants so theyre all faded and torn and gross at the bottom

•collects random animal (or human) bones he finds around the woods of nockfell

•baggy clothes cuz body dysmorphia

•seems really calm and collected all the time but lets it all out behind closed doors

larry:

•sal’s tripsitter

•REEKS of axe body spray to cover the weed stank

•has literally witnessed murder but is DEATHLY afraid of most bugs

•pulls a lot of evil pranks and sal just goes along with it

•lisa taught him how to cook from a really early age

•whenever the gang is hanging out they force him to cook them food but he usually just goes the lazy route and microwaves some mac n cheese

•only really shows his emotions around sal because he knows he understands

•so attractive but carries himself like hes not

•uses humor to cope and often jokes about being fatherless

•has a guilty pleasure for pop music

•a grade above the rest of the group

•frequent guyliner wearer

•his paranoid ass carries a switchblade everywhere he goes for self defense

•actually carries so much random shit in his pockets

•has a framed photo on his nightstand of him and sal at a meet & greet with the members of sanity’s fall

•his band shirts are so ancient most of them have massive holes in them

•the group calls him “larr bear” to piss him off in a loving way

•the look on his face when lisa calls him that in front of people is priceless

ashley:

•hair is so damaged from constantly messing with it

•loves doing other ppls hair too, especially sals (they do matching hairstyles sometimes :3)

•brings her camera literally everywhere and has a scrapbook of a bunch of memories of the gang throughout highschool

•also just takes random pictures sometimes cuz shes really into photography

•carries bandaids everywhere she goes just in case

•has to decorate literally everything she owns and make it look cute

•does not hold back on adding stickers (sal lets her stick them all over his mask sometimes)

•usually dozes off before she takes her makeup off and then just fixes it up in the morning and rolls with it

•collects everyones baby teeth to make necklaces and jewelry with

•likes to practice nail art on everyone

•has the best sense of style out of the whole group. the amount of clothes and accessories in her closet is impressive and she always puts together the most fire fits

•has a huge shoe collection from adidas, to docs, to combat boots

•so sweet and friendly to literally everyone but will actually kill someone if they fuck with her

•has a really hectic home life so she basically trained herself to sleep like a rock through anything

•literally the mom of the group, shes always looking out for everyone especially cuz she has her own little brother she takes care of

•master of diy she can make something out of literally anything and make it look amazing

todd:

•when times get desperate he sells bud from his dad’s garden

•never even came out to his parents, he didnt feel a need to they just accepted it and never questioned him

•has so many plants around the house and has names for every single one

•he doesnt allow sal to bring gizmo to his apartment cuz he once tried to eat bob

•everyones always asking to touch his hair cuz he takes care of it so well its so soft and curly

•spends the most amount of time on the internet than the rest of the group

•probably why his eyesight is dogshit 😹😹😹

•his brain is like its own encyclopedia, he’ll just randomly drop the most insane fun facts on everyone for no reason but its always a good conversation starter

•his parents randomly tell him these crazy stories from when they were young hippies

•they almost named him some hippie shit like “star”

•talks to himself a lot, like actual conversations with himself. sometimes he just narrates what hes doing without even realizing it until his mom walks in and is like “who tf are u talking to”

•on the spectrum and is deadpan majority of the time so whenever hes being sarcastic its so hard to tell

•so full of wisdom literally everyone goes to him for advice, even his own parents sometimes

•thats a left handed mf if ive ever seen one

•not photogenic at all and always has to be suade into being in group pictures

other random things:

•when theres no mysteries to be investigated, the gang likes to have sleepovers at larrys place where they smoke and watch movies and play video games and stuff

•sal and larry take “whats mine is yours” to another level. theyre always together and they share pretty much everything, from clothes to literal toothbrushes (they are disgusting)

•sal brings gizmo to chug’s place sometimes so soda has someone to play with (she likes to style his fur and he steals her stickers)

•a lot of the songs from the ost were songs that sal, larry, and sometimes rob recorded together for fun

•rob also taught them both how to skate

•chug is a massive weeb

•ashley and todd are basically sal and larrys ubers cuz sal has horrible vision and larry got his license revoked

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Hi Bex! This is so exciting for me since this is my first time requesting something in the few years that I've been a follower! 😍TBABTO was a GAME-changer for me! So fucking good! 😭🫠 IDK how you are able to do it, honestly. As a slasher/horror fan, your blog is one of my all-time faves. On that note... For your Valentine's Day Ask Game I would like a snippet of Poly!Ghostface x AFAB! Reader. NSFW because let's be real, these freaks go 0 to 100 real quick 😘 The scenario: the boys are best friends with reader and she gets stood up by her boyfriend of two years on Valentine's Day for someone else! Reader is feeling humiliated and depressed...little does she know the boys aren't gunna take that sitting down (and are pretty grateful for the chance to show her just how much she means to them and to get rid of that tool she was dating) I trust you know what to do from there! No rush either! ❤️

Thanks for being awesome,

- T🌙

Okay, oh my God, T, hi! I love, adore, am obsessed with this ask and prompt! First off, thank you! TBABTO was really a huge deal, I still adore that fic and consider it one of my very best pieces of writing ever. The fact you have been around for years, and that fic is still getting love, warms my heart! I hope this meets your expectations and gives you exactly what you want. NFSW indeed, hope the gore is gory enough for you. I appreciate the patience, I took Sunday off and yesterday was the Canadian holiday of Family Day so I was busy, but I wrote this up at work today!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.8K. Poly!Ghostface X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Upset Reader. Crying Reader. Blood. Gore. Murder. Death. Obviously They Are Gonna Scoop You Up While You Are In The Process Of Grieving. 

—

What Must We Do?

—

You feel like a complete idiot. Pouring hours into making and buying presents, into your appearance, Hell into the entire relationship for the love of fuck, for two years, and for what? A guy who is a totally pathetic coward.

Here is how it happened, you showed up to the agreed upon place, presents in tow, only to be left hanging for nearly an hour, a friend saw you waiting and told you that they saw your piece of shit, now obviously EX boyfriend, was on a very cozy and romantic looking date with someone else. He stood you up? Un-fucking-believable. 

What are you supposed to do with yourself now? The thought of renting a tape and dragging yourself home has appeal, get out of your nice date clothes, into something much more comfortable and concern yourself with snacks and losing yourself in the fictional events blaring from your TV screen until you are exhausted enough for sleep to claim you.

So you make your way, soon find yourself in the video rental store, trying to ignore anyone staring at you so dressed up. The romance section has been picked clean, not like you want that right now anyway, you beeline for the horror section which still has a surprising good few tapes left, you are debating on getting two or three when you hear a very familiar voice pipe up, “What are you doing dressed up like that in a dump like this?” 

Your head turns to see Stu Macher approaching you, a tape of his own in his left hand, he has that grin that is so classic him plastered on his face, you don’t answer him, but you do greet him, a heavy sigh, “Hey Stu.”

As soon as he was in front of you, he spots the bags by your feet. His smile falters, brow creases, and his original question is followed up with a different one, accompanied by a point to the items, “Wait. Aren’t you supposed to be on your Valentines date right now?”

Your head tips forward, shoulders slumping, “I was supposed to be yes.” 

The lack of explanation is all the explanation needed, he knew who was at fault, just didn’t have the information on what he did yet. You don’t need to see his face to know he is wearing a much harder expression, his voice further tells on how he must be looking, “What did he do?”

Raising your head you look sideways towards him and tell him, “Stood me up, took someone else out today instead of me, didn’t even have the balls to end it with me first.” 

“Oh so he is a cheating asshole now instead of just the garden verity kind, fantastic.” He leans against the shelves and asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Decidedly not. I just want to watch some movies, turn my brain off, you know?” 

“We can do that, pick what you want and meet me at the front.” Stu started digging into his pocket, and you ask, “Okay, but what do you mean by we?”

“Who do you think? I’m gonna go call him.” Stu had his phone in his hand now, he gives you a grin over his shoulder and starts walking away, typing in the number, and you think this is what you need, fuck being alone when you could be with your best friends instead. 

Billy picks up on the second ring, “Do you really need help deciding on what to watch? Thought you could handle that much on your own-” 

Stu cuts him off, “Shut up man, I’m calling for a different reason, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the video store, she just got stood up by her shithead boyfriend and is feeling lonely and vulnerable, AND she wants a movie night, do you understand?”

Billy had to bark out a laugh before responded, “Stop, really?! He fucked up THAT badly? God, she’s forgiven some shit, but no way is she gonna take him back after this.” 

“Exactly, she’s picking out some movies, meet at her place, it is up to us to cheer her up.” Stu unceremoniously hung up the phone now that Billy was on the same page and on board. 

After the movies had been rented, snacks bought, you went back to your place, finding Billy already waiting, comfortably seated on his usual chair on your front porch. He hopped up immediately on your approach, “Hey, Stu called me and I came over, he told me what happened, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too, honestly, sorry I wasted so much time on that fucking idiot.” You are pulling out your key, unlocking your door and letting you and them inside. There was much venting to be done, camp was going to be made in your bedroom for maximum comfort, bags hauled upstairs, the boys following behind and in agreement, Billy starting, “He is a fucking idiot, who the Hell would he rather be spending time with?”

Stu following with, “Seriously, dude screams brain-dead.” 

Once in your room, you drop your stuff and tell them, “Make yourselves at home, I am gonna pick out some more comfortable clothes and get changed.” 

You dig through your drawers and find what you were hoping for, leaving the boys behind on your bed, digging through bags and unpacking stuff. In your absence, the pair of them start talking quietly, “So how about that chucklefuck?”

“Jeeeeesus, right? We gotta do something about it.” Billy sighs and Stu responds, “I remember just where we stashed our stuff, wouldn’t be hard to get to it.”

A beat of silence before Billy asks, “So this is our chance, right? To get king clown is out of the picture.”

Stu looks over at his friend and confirms, “We gotta show some care with this, but I think so.”

By the time you were back in the room and the first movie was going, you felt a bit more comfortable, the extra amounts of blankets and pillows on the bed and floor making a really comfortable place to relax. You were doing your best to focus on the screen but it was hard, the sadness was creeping in, you felt rather pathetic, and so in a quieter moment you spoke up and asked, “Is there something wrong with me?”

That had Stu sitting up from his comfortably reclined position and Billy stopping the handful of popcorn that was midway to his mouth, “What?”

The course of that single word from the pair might have made you laugh if you weren’t seconds away from crying, “I know it’s fucking stupid, but I am just sitting here running over everything in my mind and all I can think is that it’s my fault, like the common denominator is me.”

“That is stupid.” Stu nods and Bill backs him up, “Very stupid, that you are doubting yourself for even a minute because of that jerk! You didn’t do shit, it is all him, he is an insecure bitch.”

Stu pipes up with, “He is the problem, and it isn’t YOUR loss, it’s his!”

You wipe under your eyes and sniff, “Whatever, you are both just saying that-”

Billy laughs and Stu says, “Yeah cuz in the entire time you have known us, we have been so sensitive to saving people’s feelings and lie about shit like that.”

“Mmhmm, that is us, alright. If it wasn’t true, we wouldn’t be saying it, we’d be honest, even if it was harsh and you? Are wayyyy out of his league.” Billy was leaning closer to you and Stu was getting up onto the bed, on the opposite side of you, he says, “You are funnier, smarter, seriously don’t cry over that piece of shit.”

Billy hands you a tissue, and you wipe your face, a sharp inhale, and you try to reign it in, trying to listen, joking, “You two ever think of becoming professional hype men?”

Stu snickers and Billy asks, “What do we have to do to get you to believe us?”

Strong hands rest on your shoulders, he starts to rub, and you immediately begin to melt into the touch, eyes falling closed as Stu speaks, “I think I know just what we should do, stop worrying about that asshole, something tells me he is gonna get what he deserves.”

Of course, you say yes to that. They stay with you, by the end of the three movies, the snacks all eaten, your mood is lifted, and you are asleep in bed. They turn off the TV and quietly let themselves out, both well aware of what needed to happen.

That night, they plan, excited and giddy to make this guys last night on Earth total Hell. He was going to die afraid and alone, in immense pain. 

The following night, they execute. 

They revel, do all they can to make it hurt, thankfully they had been planning this for a good long while.

Isolating him was frighteningly easy, and that is how they got into this current position, they had cut open his abdominal cavity and were making him hold his hands tight to hold his intestines in, a small cut to each Achilles tendon and an order to run. “If you make it far enough without spilling your guts or fully ripping your tendons, we might let you live.”

There was of course no intention of actually allowing him to survive, but watching him struggle was going to be fun.

The forest is cold, it’s dark as fuck, he has no sense of direction, the ground uneven and slick from the earlier rain on top of that. In their dark robes they can menuver around him easily, take swips and shallow stabs at him, disorienting him further.

He didn’t make it more than five minutes until he was on the ground, he started to slip, and one hand is thrown out to a tree to steady himself and the first few loops of intestines nearly shoot out, he can’t halt his forward momentum soon enough and well.

Have you ever stepped your full weight onto your own guts? He has, and it sends him careening to the ground, slick organs wrapped around his legs, his tendon tears audibly, right knee hitting a rock on the way down and the crunch and crack of bone is stomach turning.

He is collapsed, heaving and sobbing, the pair descend onto him, ready to finish the job. Stu steps on the blood and mud coated intestinal protrusion and your ex gags, another wave of pain making him cry out, he looks down at him and grins the heel of his boot down harder, “Fucking pathetic, am I right?”

“Beyond pathetic.” His masked compatriot agrees. 

There is a weak sound, a stupid as shit question, “Why?”

They share a look and a laugh, before an answer is given, “Cuz you don’t deserve to breathe, why else?”

The body can handle a lot before dying, they rip his blood soaked hands away and then tear from the inside out, once more of him was on the outside than in, a modicum of mercy is shown. His throat is slashed, and he is permitted to drown in his own blood. 

Your ex’s body is found in the woods a week later, and after a few more rains, when the news spread your two best friends simply tell you, one after the other, “Told you he’d get what was coming to him.”

“Yeah, clearly he just pissed off the wrong people.” 

You supposed he did.

[ragnarockz]

For the ask game, what about the following combination:

꒰ 4 ꒱ a pebbled nipple

꒰ P ꒱ fresh-cut grass

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ “what happened to all that big talk, hm? gone all quiet, just because i’m inside you?”

Tip Jar 💰

The first thing that popped into my head was Agnes being stubborn about mowing the goddamn lawn in a heatwave and Vidal kinda giving her shit for it... you know 😉

☀���

Music inspo: Papasito - KAROL G, Turn Me On - Kevin Lyttle, Tempted to Touch - Rupee, Murder She Wrote - Chaka Demus & Pliers, Bam Bam - Sister Nancy, So Mi Like It - Spice, Dude - Beenie Man. Dancehall my beloved 💛

Agnes lets the back door slam shut behind her as she gasps for the cool, AC powered air in her home. Vidal looked up from the kitchen counter, bowl in hand as she mixes up some recipe for a salad dressing that she had saw online that morning. She had showed Agnes who, approved of with a grunt before she took off to mow the lawn.

Westview was having a freak heatwave and Agnes, of course, was proud that her air conditioning worked and was now blasting through the entire house. Vidal had threw on a light sundress and nothing more. Agnes however, dressed like she was preparing herself for war. Long sleeves and pants with one of her trucker hats pulled down over her forehead to cast away the sun and her heavy-duty runners for lawn maintenance. Vidal had yelled something about sunscreen and a water bottle but Agnes was out the door before she caught any of that.

Vidal stared at Agnes and breathed in hard and caught the AC mixing with the scent of fresh-cut grass. Agnes took of her hat and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand which left a streak of dirt or oil or possibly, most likely, both.

"Did you bring your water out there?"

"Huh?"

Vidal rolled her eyes as she got back to mixing the dressing for dinner later that night.

"Of course you didn't...you never do...Agnes, how many times do I have to tell you that in this heat, you gotta be safe out there, Baby."

Agnes rolled her eyes, swatted her hand and scoffed. She kicked off her runners before treading around the kitchen towards the fridge. Vidal watched in silence as Agnes opened it and snatched out a water bottle. The detective put it down on the counter first so she could, shamelessly, peel off her shirt.

She was naked underneath; too hot to wear a sports bra just to mow the lawn and hide back into the comforts of pulled down blinds and AC. Vidal soaked in every inch of Agnes' naked torso; caught where the sweat had beaded up and where it was now rolling down her body. Agnes sighed as she grabbed for her water bottle once more and unscrewed the cap.

She drunk like a wild animal as water dripped down the side of her mouth and joined the rollings pearls of sweat down her neck. Vidal sucked in a hard breath.

One had to thank the modern inventions of air conditioning as it truly did wonders in more ways than one. The sudden burst of cool air on hot, sweaty skins made Agnes' nipples pebble as her body tried to shift with the change of temperature.

Vidal's eyes were glued onto her girlfriend.

"You...better clean up your mess, Detective..."

Was all Vidal could whisper as she very slowly set her bowl down as if any sudden contact with a surface would make it instantly shatter. She could feel the heat burning deep in her lower abdomen as she ogled Agnes but knew, from the way she was drinking, the floor was getting wet.

Agnes' eyebrow rose as she tilted her head back to chase the remaining liquid in the bottle. She was eyeing Vidal with the corner of her eye and a knowing smirk that appeared on the corners of her lips. Vidal could feel herself grow flustered in anticipation of what was soon to follow the second Agnes was done drinking.

The detective recapped her bottle before laying it down onto the counter top. She used her arm to wipe at her mouth and chin but didn't catch all of the water that had spilled. She looked dirty and sweaty and flushed from the heat turned cool.

Vidal had to bite her bottom lip to suppress a moan.

Agnes moved ever to slightly to prop herself against the counter; arms behind her as she gripped the edge with her fingers. She stared Vidal down which, of course, was always an open invitation.

Vidal does the same from her spot in the kitchen as she mirrors Agnes' stance.

Agnes chuckles under her breath as her left hand comes down from the counter to grasp the waistband of her pants. She gives it a quick tug downwards which springs her toy free. Vidal's mind wanders because of course, Agnes was strapped to mow the goddamn lawn.

Vidal lifted her head in defiance; she wasn't going to be the one to fold. If Agnes wanted her well, she could cross the threshold of the kitchen to come get her. The thought gave Vidal away as she let a whimper slip from her parted lips.

It was like a fucking siren call and before she knew it, Agnes was closing the gap between them.

The detective moved with purpose as she pinned Vidal against the counter. Her cock pressed hard against Vidal's thigh; pushing the edge of her dress inwards between her legs. Vidal's breath hitched in her throat as she threw her arms around Agnes' neck instinctively.

Agnes helped herself as she pushed Vidal's dress up to rest around her hips to get herself closer; to tease her entrance with the tip of her cock. Vidal shuttered as her gaze drifted down to stare at Agnes' still-hard nipples. The sweat and water had turned to a slight sheen over the detective's skin and Vidal wanted nothing more than to run her tongue over Agnes' skin.

With Vidal pinned and her dress up and out of the way, Agnes reached down to tap the side of Vidal's left leg. Vidal merely nodded her head as she lifted her left leg up until the knee bent so Agnes could grab underneath and hoist it close to the outside of her hip.

The impact was instant as Agnes' cock pressed right through into Vidal. A deep breath left Vidal's lips as her eyes fluttered to close and her brows knit together. She locked her hands around Agnes' neck; trying to claw to hold herself down.

It was enough to throw Agnes for a loop as she snapped her hips forward to fully fill Vidal up. It was instant, the way Vidal's body reacted. She slumped her head forward against Agnes' neck and breathed in the scent of lawn-clippings and oil; the crisp artificial AC scent. She moaned against Agnes' skin and was met with another short thrust by Agnes.

"Agnes...fuckplease...pleasefuckme..."

A tighter grip on Vidal's leg and a shift in the angle of how she held her leg made their bodies easier to come into contact; a more gentle meeting of silicone and skin. Agnes could feel herself become slick between her thighs; Vidal moaning was already enough to help ride out her oncoming orgasm.

Their bodies moved together as Agnes gave and Vidal took. Nails dragging at Agnes' neck and shoulders and blunt nails digging into the softness of Vidal's thigh.

"...that'sitBaby...justlikethat...fuckmeDaddy..."

Agnes grunted in response as she slowly, finally opened her own mouth. Hot pants of breath pushed out onto Vidal's skin, making the edges of Vidal's hair stick to her face. So much for the AC cooling them down.

"...whathappenedto...allthatbigtalkhmmm?...Gone all quiet...justbecauseI’m...inside you?”

The whine that hit the side of Agnes' face was pornographic. A shattering noise that solidified exactly what Agnes had set out to do and, what concluded the gnawing desire inside of Vidal.

The agent slumped against Agnes; felt her body shaking as her body dished out the aftershocks. Agnes' hands were turning Vidal's thigh white; no doubt bruises would bloom there within hours. Agnes let out a breath she was holding; hot and wet against Vidal's ear and felt then, the hot, wet and, lazy kisses of Vidal peppering the side of her neck.

They both stood in place as they tried to catch their breaths. Vidal's hands slowly unhooked from Agnes' neck as she lifted her head up to look at Agnes' face. Those goddamn ocean eyes always made Vidal's heart swell and she couldn't help herself but to find Agnes' lips with her own.

Agnes helped Vidal put her leg back down; moving slowly so she wouldn't pull anything or twist the wrong way. Slow and sweet and careful; they moved together to untangle. The fulfilled sigh from Vidal that filled Agnes' mouth only made Agnes kiss Vidal back harder. It acted as another invitation that could be met; another avenue for more.

Fuck it, Vidal thought as her hands came up to squeeze Agnes' breasts; thumbs and fingers rolling over her hard nipples which prompted Agnes to press back into Vidal, it was too fucking hot to do anything else, anyways.

[mafagafo-amancebado]

More things about my dummy silly nevermore theory about

How Annabel Lee and Lenore died

Or how I think they did... Part 2 I guess

Again sorry about anything in this text that do not make sense my english is not so good sorry.

Also this is a part two about my theory that you can see here. The theory by itself is there so please go check it because now I will just point more things that make my believe in that.

In a summary I believe that Annabel asked Lenore to murder both of them after someone exposed Lenore as a woman in their wedding and here I will point somethings that make me think this.

1. Annabel Lee manifestation

Annabel spectre was manifested after the Deans told her that she was murdered by the person who loved her above all else and later she said that the memories she has of her death are confusing so it would make sense for her be angry to Lenore for that but in any moment she shows to hate Lenore for that and still cares for her very much which is kinda weird (I mean how could you be so okay with the person who betrayed you, huh?). But if her last memory was something like be desperate for something she doesn't knew exactly what is and asking her loved one to kill her this thing of "you killed me but I still love you" would make sense (I think).

2. They devotion for each other

They both have a huge passion and devotion for each other with and one would literally gave the life for the other.

Every time Annabel thinks that Lenore is going to leave her she looks devastated and starts to cry, felling physical bad even so if Lenore have killed her from rage she would definitely not be so okay in the afterlife. She have said that there is no point in staying in Nevermore if Lenore isn't there and would literally give her life letting Lenore killing her if it is her will. If she was murdered by Lenore it would kinda of make sense for her to say those things since the only reason why she chose to die was to not be separated from her and there would have no point for her in want to be alive again without Lenore.

And Lenore also cares very much about Annabel, she often do anything that Annabel asks her to do without much complaining. When they were alive, she wrote Annabel a song even after say that she wouldn't and when they fight because Annabel is Leaving her she stills go to find her and burn her hole house (possibly killing some people) in the process. After dying, she follows her plan without fully understanding. Even when she's mad whit Annabel she still cares and thinks a lot about her. When she find out that she tried to murder Duke she gets angry but stills comforts her when she started to cry. When Duke and Pluto tried to kill Annabel she didn't even think twice before jumping to help her even though she was angry with Annabel at that time. And in the end when she found out about the hunt attacking the students the first thing she thinks about is Annabel.

3. Why Annabel keeps their death a secret

Again this last part must be only me going nuts but hear me out. When Lenore asks Annabel if they died together (Ch 29) she gives an ambiguous that could be because she was just playing with Lenore but also could be because she really doesn't know. I mean, if Lenore killed Annabel first there is no way for Annabel to know for sure how Lenore died so an ambiguous answer could be her realising that she doesn't really know if Lenore really committed suicide or if she was murdered by someone else.

And when Lenore asks again for Annabel to tell her how they died (Ch 63) Annabel says she does not want to tell Lenore how to think and feel about before she can remember herself because she is worried with Lenore reaction.

I mean, in the flashback of their death Lenore looks angry so she could have gotten angry with Annabel for proposing such a thing (dying together) but end up doing it anyway when she couldn't think of anything else to get them out of that situation. So I guess Annabel Lee doesn't want to tell Lenore how they died because Lenore got mad when she proposed this when they were alive but if she remembers herself she would understand that there was nothing else that they could have done at the time.

And that's all i have to say, thanks for reading my awfully written theory. Farewell hope I survive season 2

[frotees-corner]

Antivan Crows Hot Take

Why I think it's short sighted to say that the Antivan Crows were sanitized in Veilguard (because I keep seeing that take and it keeps driving me nuts). There will be Spoilers in this for both the game and the tie-in materials pertaining to it!

Tl;dr: Remember that story about a bunch of blind guys describing an elephant? It’s like that.

Dragon Age is pretty great and consistent about always showing us the world of Thedas through the eyes of unreliable narrators. Much like real history!

Even the historical footnotes we find in codex entries are penned by individuals with very clear biases. Like Brother Genitivi, one of *the* sources for general and historical information on the various regions and people of Thedas, was/is a devote chantry scholar, so everything he wrote has to be viewed with that bias in mind. (There is s whole story in Tevinter Nights about how the authors of these texts will on occasion deliberately shape their recollections to influence popular opinion.)

Up until Dragon Age: Inquisition, Zevran Arainai was our only true window into the Crows (if you ignore the early tie-in materials, which I do, because they don't play nicely with the game canon).

Zevran was born to a prostitute and sold to the Crows, like some expendable object, to be trained as an Assassin against his will. After surviving his deadly training, he was used as the equivalent of a footsoldier, only to be discarded and (attempted to be) hunted down as soon as he failed a contract and started making his own decisions. Zevran has always known that he was expendable, both to his mother and the people who purchased him, and doesn't seem to feel any great affection for either of them. Of course he would have a *very* different view of the Crows than the ones we meet in Veilguard (I will *not* be ignoring the tie-in material explicitly referenced in the game, i.e. Tevinter Nights, The Wake, and The Missing) :

Lucanis Dellamorte, grandson and heir apparent to the First Talon, who was born into wealth and priviledge and knew he wanted to become a crow like the rest of his family ever since he was a little boy (even after watching his parents and most of the rest of his family get brutally murdered in a war of succession).

Viago de Riva, a literal bastard prince who chose the harsh life of a Crow over a comfortable life in exile and is hinted at harbouring designs on the crown of Antiva.

Andarateia Cantori, who started life as a street urchin and clawed her way up to the seat of seventh Talon as the youngest Talon in the history of the Crows. Teia is described as viewing the Crows as family, even going so far as addressing Caterina Dellamorte as Nonna, which is not all that surprising if you consider that joining the crows probably pulled her out of a miserable life with very little prospects. Becoming a Crow allowed her to shape her own life as she saw fit, attaining rank and priviledge thanks to her own skills.

Of course these people will see the Crows more positively than one of their discareded foot soldiers! And yet they *still* mention, both exlicitly and implicitly, that the Crows are a deeply flawed organisation.

Lucanis mentions both the harsh, torturous training even he lived through as a fledgling both in-game and during The Wigmaker's Job, as well as the Crows' unfortunate tendency to stab each other in the back. He also acklowledges how Zevran's desertation lead to the deaths of several 8th Talons and ensured that the Crows no longer take contracts in ferelden. Teia and Viago have a conversation in 8 Little Talons that highlights how different Talons (and thus different houses) have very different ways of approaching a contract - with many of them having very little reservations when it comes to killing innocent bystanders (see also Illario's reaction to Effe in TWJ). That entire story makes it pretty clear that they are both outliers among their peers, and not just because at least Teia refuses to hurt servants, but also because they recognize the threat that awaits Antiva if the Crows cannot find common ground and forget about their petty squabbles for a time. Them being such determined patriots is an exception, and not the rule for the Talons of the Crows. Heck, Emil's whole betrayal and his reasoning for it underline both the changes the Crows have gone through over the centuries, their inherent corruption (it's all about the bottom line) and their backstabbing nature!

Ivency goes into this, too, and yes, they're a traitor and all, but they're not entirely wrong in their judgement of the Crows, either. (Though neither is Viago when he says that the Crows *are* the oversight.) And yes, you may complain that a lot of this is only really accessible when you've read Tevinter Nights, but it's not like it's necessary to follow the plot of the game - it's really only relevant if you are interested in and care about the lore and the development of the world of Thedas. And then you might as well read the explicitly referenced tie-ins to answer your questions.

(I might do Tevinter next, because that's the other one people keep complaining about being sanitized.)

[444moonbae]

Huntress & Black Canary: DC’s forgotten dynamic duo

long (but worth it) post alert

i’ve always found helena’s relationship to dinah so INTERESTING!!! how helena seemingly idolizes dinah and holds her on a pedestal, because dinah may truly be the only person in the crime fighting biz that doesn't immediately judge her—that she doesn't need to fight for the approval of (*cough* batfam *cough*). i choose to read it as an attachment. one that is similar to her dynamic with batman (in that she searches for approval and comfort), but different because while bruce rejects helena time and time again, dinah does not.

what makes their dynamic even more fascinating is that dinah doesn’t purposely make a home for helena. it’s just who she is or how it happens. the energy isn’t reciprocated in the sense that dinah does not then idolize or pedestal helena in return. it’s sort of a one way street that likely results from the void of helena’s lonely past that causes her to “imprint” on the first person that shows her acceptance. but, because dinah is present and rarely offers rejection, helena thus views her as an object of habitual trust, perhaps even someone that she needs. 

i could be overstating it, but undoubtedly there is a bond between the two worth analyzing, and specifically through the eyes of the Huntress. helena emotionally attaches to dinah because dinah does not turn her away in the way that others that come before her have (due to how she works/goes about business). for once, someone seems to actually care enough to give her the light of day, to give her a CHANCE. and that is a huge change from the unacceptance she is so used to feeling and the lonely she is so used to being. as a child, helena seldom received any validation from important figures (for obvious reasons… i.e. her entire family being murdered), so she sometimes searches for this validation in other people. through this friendship, dinah helps helena realize that she does not have to linger in her own corner of brooding and that she can be apart of a team.

it’s kind of genius, really. and who knows if Gail Simone purposely wrote in all these layers but nevertheless it’s there and it makes sense: girl who continuously gets rejected in her search for approval finally finds someone who doesn’t and in turn, idolizes her. this dynamic only gets more interesting for me when thinking about it from dinah’s perspective; while dinah does really care about helena, she doesn’t necessarily go out of her way to give her that “chance”—she simply does not have preconceived notions about who helena bertinelli is. dinah inadvertently breaks the cycle that helena is caught in. all of this is in terms of the start of their relationship, and to simplify: dinah never goes to helena and says “oh my god you have such a horrible past let me help you!” rather, it is helena who comes across dinah and thinks “wait a sec…? she doesn’t care that i’ve done some bad things? or that batman (AND babs… which is huge bc barbara IS the birds of prey) doesn’t really like me?” it doesn’t mean as much to her as it does to helena. this can be detected in dinah’s own dialogue to her, as seen in the previous panels. however, as their bond strengthens, we do then see dinah going out of her way to directly support and defend helena, even confronting batman herself on several occasions :

i wish this dynamic was explored more, however. it doesn’t help that DC has seemingly thrown helena on the back burner, away from the team that was once so important to her character development. what i’m trying to say is, helena NEEDS to be in the current Birds of Prey run for many reasons, her attachment to dinah and dinah's support of her being one of them. and i hope Kelly Thompson will recognize the importance this has not just for fans like me, but for the character herself. if you know anything about Huntress as a character, she is kind of a "lone wolf" type. by choice, by circumstance, not just cuz of her personality, but because of her origin, too. her joining the Birds of Prey, becoming a prominent figure on a cohesive TEAM, was a huge arc in her development. take it from helena herself, after literally sacrificing her life for dinah :

I would really like to see these two team up again, being that they work pretty well together, visually and literally, but also because it means a lot to helena internally. if we strip huntress away from the birds of prey, who does she really have? where really is she? the answer is no one and no where, a reflection of her current status in the dc universe. helena does not have to be, and should not be, inextricably tied to a team (as some characters unfortunately grow to be) but a balance between co-operation and independence can easily be navigated. in other words, helena works well alone but the birds of prey should remain a comfort zone for her, and a part of her overall purpose. ultimately, having characters and spaces that she is connected to can only be a good thing (i.e. dinah, babs, zinda, the birds of prey). yet, somehow, she is missing in action even while her team is active.

it’s a shame for me to see them operate without her. so, part of my reasoning for her inclusion is Black Canary, as dinah became that important figure in helena’s life— something her character so deeply craves both emotionally and contextually; helena bertinelli needs someone she can rely on and Huntress, as a character, needs to have solid connections within the space of DC’s universe... or else she is at risk of slowly falling into a forgotten pit of oblivion. But when thinking of the birds of prey, i personally do picture a trio— heldinahbabs. of course, the team has always been subject to change, and there is nothing wrong with that (in fact, in volume one, helena only joined in issue #57, while dinah even left in issue #100), but this post is a very long winded way of me wanting to see them together again, even just for a moment. afterall, helena joined for dinah and stayed for barbara. and as someone who is a huge huntress fan, seeing her dynamics explored more with others is a must. but, am i blinded by nostalgia? you tell me. either way, i know helena misses dinah. 

---

bonus: helena lowkey fangirling over the sight of both dinah and bruce fighting together

[all-pacas]

house live-ish blogging: maternity

i love how the writers of this show only know like. 3 names. the baby is almost named amber. instead she is named max. max is also the name of the liver donating girlfriend in sleeping dogs lie. this show also has about six roberts, two chis, 5 rachels…

honestly love this episode. i wish the series had more "everyone pulling a 3 day shift, the only thing that matters is solving the Mystery" episodes, they're so good

i just looked up who wrote this episode to see if it was the same writer who wrote sleeping dogs lie re: the max thing. it isn't. instead it's peter blake, aka the chase whisperer: he also wrote the mistake, cursed, the itch, the tyrant, lockdown, and chase. (a couple shared credits but. damn. apparently this dude just wrote all the greatest hits for our useless nepobaby and his divorce. coincidentally, chase is great in this episode too. god now i want to do a tangent because the same writer wrote cursed/the mistake/lockdown/chase makes perfect fucking sense to me, because in each - when i say chase gets angry and resentful and shuts down when he's upset. when i say it's consistent. him lashing out at rowan isn't that different from him accusing cameron of never loving him, of accusing house of changing him. there's a throughline of these episodes: chase vulnerable, chase angry and upset, chase refusing to open up no matter who begs. and throw in the tyrant, his bonding with dibala and the way the murder is framed as chase lashing out in betrayal rather than moral imperative - man!!! ANYWAY)

i've always loved wilson's little "i can get you a key to the oncology lounge… we're getting TiVo" line. because when i was a kid, my dad got tivo. and when i say he bragged about it. when i say he would bring visitors into our house and show them the tivo and demonstrate the wonders of dvr in those olden days (of the early 2000s) (even if i was watching cartoons). so you know what wilson. i appreciate the flex. it is cool you're getting tivo.

in the script, it notes that chase is taking a nap while foreman studies and cameron reads houses mail. in the episode, chase is still taking his nap, but the other two are just standing around. i mention this just because it's interesting to see what character details are written and which are acting choices. to me.

the script also notes that the gays who lose their son are "comp lit grad students." not sure why we need to know this but i'm glad we do

foreman stepping up and lecturing cameron on bedside manner is. very funny. not that she doesn't need the lecturing in this episode (it's a Theme), but… considering how as time goes by, one of foreman's defining traits is terrible bedside manner… it's very main character of him lol. he truly is the best of the group in these early episodes. no weaknesses, only strengths.

cameron's "it's easier to die than to watch someone die" is so fascinating. it's so loaded with implication. what was her husband like? how much emotional labor was she doing for him? was he in denial of his prognosis until the end, meaning that cameron was stuck both taking care of him and pretending everything was okay? or is cameron, unwittingly, exposing her own selfishness here: does she actually kind of believe her pain is worse because she has to live with it?

that said i do like how even in this scene: cameron freezes up and is awkward at telling the patients bad news, but she's quick to (and good at) reassuring them a moment later. "kim is right," she says, using the patient's name. she's good at bonding with patients and comfort, just not when it's bad news. which, unfortunately, in her job…

i find the differential portions of this episode really interesting because it sets up as foreman has an idea, cameron has an idea, they argue their ideas, they want different treatments, house referees. they each get "assigned" a family and baby. neither are treated as more wrong or more right (although i guess cameron technically is — "her" baby is the one that dies because her treatment is wrong, but medically she did nothing wrong, it's more a larger theme about cameron struggling this episode). and meanwhile chase exists. this has been the case every episode so far lmao: foreman is the main ideas and treatment guy, cameron sometimes chimes in to back him up, chase offers no useful input or contributions. the difference is, this episode chase actually very much pulls his weight with the treatment and his work in NICU; he really is the Procedure Guy, not the Ideas Guy. which makes him a really interesting hire on house's part tbh - chase is almost useless in differentials (so far), he was hired just for his practical skills.

again, it is so weird to see foreman, champion of talking to patients. i mean, i do buy he knows how and is perfectly script accurate. but it was dropped as a trait so quickly

speaking of early installment weirdness: wilson calling cameron allison will never not be weird.

and likewise cameron's angry insistence that the women would rather have hope than truth is. very telling. like yes, we know she deals terribly with loss, but this is… what was her husband like? when did she find out he had cancer? does she wish she had been able to be ignorant longer? it's very clear – to the viewers and everyone in universe – that cameron is seeing this all through her perspective, that she's talking about herself at all times, but… (also imagine this perspective mixed with s6 and dibala. you think part of the reason chase didn't tell her for so long was because he really did think she'd prefer to be ignorant? how wrong or right was he in that?)

in the script, when the baby dies and chase is trying to revive it, there's a note that house puts his hand on chase's arm to get him to stop. not in the episode :( but i like their little interaction here: it's not much, but chase is clearly upset and house lets him go, doesn't scold him. house can in fact be pretty understanding about this stuff! he doesn't like wallowing but he has moments of being a good boss. and then he turns around and has zero sympathy for cameron lol.

cameron trying to foist the "inform the parents" thing on chase is very. hahaha. i always think of chase in forever trying to foist baby duties on her. it's not a great moment for cameron (it's not meant to be), but it… hm. i wouldn't say it's out of character; she never really gets better at dealing directly with death, but trying to weasel out of telling the parents by saying chase (or whoever) should do it seems… off, you know? her freezing up and wilson stepping in feels more on brand. but she's not supposed to be right this episode. she's lowkey supposed to suck.

(and from house's perspective: chase is sad about the dead baby. so is cameron. chase is still doing his job, he can be sad, it's not getting in the way. cameron is sad, and actively avoiding her job/trying to get others to do it for her. that is getting in the way.)

fascinating, too, that cameron is therefore stated in this episode to be bad at talking to patients (compared to foreman being good, and chase being a little awkward but fine).

"chase, you're the intensivist" -- love when the show tells us people's specialties. no one has called cameron an immunologist yet, but we have the guys now. and flash forward a few years, i don't think we technically ever learn thirteen or kutner's specialties (on screen).

in the lab end of the episode, cameron and chase are sitting way too close together. it is very funny how often this happens. i know it's because the actors were dating were not paying attention to body language but still. this is why everyone thought you were dating in s3, cameron

another good moment for cameron at the end of the episode, calling in the surviving baby's parents to hold her for a bit. (love that chase then reported this to house: it's not clear if house asked him how cameron was doing — he asks foreman, so it makes sense he'd check with chase too — or if chase reported it on his own, which also makes sense because chase telling house every bit of gossip he hears is a very consistent character trait lol)

speaking of foreman, his insisting that cameron has everything handled just fine is a) a blatant lie and b) very funny from foreman. which makes him sound like a douche but. he really did gain his ruthlessness later, didn't he?

actually, if house asked both the boys how cameron held up, and foreman lied and chase told a story of cameron having a Good Idea, that's kind of sweet. they're both covering for her/sticking up for her…

i haven't mentioned it but the clinic patient this episode always makes me laugh. shoutout to the actress, she just keeps saying this stupid stuff "oh man! wow!" but with this sincere, no brain cell enthusiasm that is so funny to me.

"do you think you could — " "no." "do the prenatal?" "no." "or deliver the baby?" "that would be no." "oh - kay!"

even though it's probably just a pillow they stuck under her shirt or something, i actually appreciate wardrobe remembered to have the woman who gave birth two days ago have a very noticeable stomach while sitting around in street clothes. realism!

house is oddly gentle with cameron in this scene at the end. "you look tired… you had a hard time this week." i know you can read it as oh, he's in love with her, but i don't think we're supposed to; i'm pretty sure it's a fragment of his nicer s1 personality. because we really don't see it again after s1, even with people or in situations where he's trying to be gentle. ("oh, it's because he's in love with cameron" i'm really not convinced that was the direction of this episode.) it also make's cameron's angry reaction a little odd - not that she wouldn't be defensive, but… house is being so nice, lol. he's not being a bastard at all! just wait until he really starts meddling in your life, cam!

i find it very unlikely that cuddy, tearing apart the hospital for days, didn't notice the old lady loitering around the maternity ward coughing constantly. i find it unlikely no one mentioned her. i get that we're not supposed to worry about these facts

house's soap opera doctor has exactly the same hairstyle as chase lmao

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Midsommar vs SPOP: Cults and Religious Trauma

i watched Midsommar recently and was struck by how subtle and nuanced the Hårga were, in comparison to the Intergalactic Horde. of course, i don’t expect SPOP to show the kind of brutal gore that Midsommar did, but what i’m talking about is the way these cults indoctrinated members.

Horde Prime just mind controlled everyone to follow his orders and praise him, and it just felt so immature, especially compared to the way SPOP handled some of the other deeper topics. you’re telling me they wrote an actually good manipulator in the form of Shadow Weaver, but couldn’t do the same for Horde Prime? cult leaders are supposed to be manipulative. they don’t just force you to join their cults because it’s so much easier to break out of it. no, what they do is they convince you that this is for your own good. they promise you support, community, happiness, peace. they especially target emotionally vulnerable individuals, because they are a lot likely to accept help from a large community who is seemingly just looking out for them and trying to help them out.

and this is what happens in Midsommar. Dani recently lost her entire family to a murder-suicide, and her boyfriend had fallen out of love with her at this point and he often manipulates and guilt-trips her whenever she points out his mistakes. she was overall extremely lonely and depressed, trying hard to repress her emotions for everyone else’s sake. this is the kind of person the Hårga were looking for. a lot of the audience didn’t even realize that Dani was being indoctrinated into a cult or that joining said cult was going to be very unhealthy for her. that’s how convincing the Hårga were.

Pelle especially seems like the warm, comforting figure that Dani needed, letting her open up about her feelings and listening to her, in contrast to Christian, Dani’s boyfriend, who was often preoccupied with other things, and didn’t even bother to remember Dani’s birthday. you almost root for Pelle and Dani to end up together, until you realize that he is also part of the cult and all of his empathy and compassion is just a clever way to manipulate Dani into trusting the Hårga.

the scariest thing about the Hårga is that they weren’t large, imposing figures with a god complex. they didn’t have a leader who ruled them with an iron fist. they were just a seemingly normal community with seemingly normal people who had fun rituals and celebrations, and seemingly supported and cared for one another. even after seeing two people die brutally, Dani was still manipulated into joining the Hårga because they took advantage of her trauma and her loneliness. she desperately needed actual support and a shoulder to lean on, something her boyfriend didn’t provide. so when the Hårga offered her that support, it was easy for her to believe that this community was exactly what she needed.

and i think SPOP could have pulled something like this off, especially with Catra. if they really wanted us to believe that Catra felt guilty about her actions, they could have gone a more interesting route. i mentioned this in a previous post but instead of Horde Prime chipping Catra, they could have shown him manipulate her and promise her that she can be absolved of all her sins if she joined him. instead of being all like “teehee i know you have a crush on adora, you gay kitty”, they could have shown him feed on her insecurities and loneliness, and promise her a happier future of she joined him, playing on her need for validation and affection.

and in a moment of desperation, Catra believes him. she has lost everyone at this point, so she accepts what little comfort is offered to her. and then it’s the writers’ choice whether to redeem Catra by having her come to the realization that worshipping a genocidal tyrant with a god complex is actually not going to help her become a better person, and that she was just repressing her guilt and convincing herself that this is the best option; or to have her stay and face a tragic ending of sorts. either way, i think it would have been better than what we got.

i know that Nate apparently struggled with religious trauma and guilt (according to a few posts i saw, at least) and i’m not trying to say that i know his experience better than he does. i just think the execution with Horde Prime was really off, and he was almost like a funny caricature of a cult leader, rather than a representation of an actual cult leader.

[cha0ticspacebi]

My heart stutters when I see the look in your eyes, wondering if you’re feeling the same way I am right now. An intense need to kiss you breathless washes over me, to press you against the wall and trace my hands up your sides. - Eddie

Chapter 5･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. Series Master List

Pairing: Post Canon! Eddie Munson x Witchy! Artist! Female OC

Word Count: 7.6 K

Series Tags: Eventual smut MDNI 21+, slow burn, canon divergence AU, Eddie is a soft sweet traumatized boy, rockstar Eddie, Bartender Eddie, female OC is a witchy, aspiring author/artist, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, additional tags will be added.

Author’s Note: This story is a labor of love between me and my good friend 🦇 🖤 They play an incredible Eddie! We’re writing an ongoing RP together and I am so enamored with this story I just had to share it out as a fic. This story is written in a very different format than my usual work. It’s going to be posted exactly as we wrote it together, separated by our names. I’m so proud of the work we’ve done together. This story is incredibly important to me and has made me fall in love with writing all over again. Side Note: this story is still in progress but is currently sitting at over 250K words.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Untying my boots, I’m able to kick them off and place them at the door before I’m removing my jacket. Seeing you put your jacket on the dining chair, I do the same with the chair opposite yours. I feel much more at ease being here than out in town like how we were, not feeling tense anymore and like someone is gonna creep up from nowhere and make me feel like shit.

I watch you intently as you plate up the food and I decide to ask something that has been on my mind since finding out. “How long have uh…how long ago did you hear the rumors?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My body bristles with your question wondering anxiously if maybe you are upset that I didn’t tell you right away. I swallow hard as I bring both plates over to the table and join you, “I knew when I ran into you at the grocery store. Found out that day actually,” I sit down in the chair beside me, “I had been talking about how much I enjoyed your show with some of the girls at work and when I described you, one of the older ladies told me.”

I put on my best impression of her. My voice lowers and gets a gruff bitterness to the tone, “That boy’s nothing but trouble! You’d do well to stay away from him!” I decide not to give an exact interpretation of what she told me because you don’t need to hear that she accused you of multiple satanic fueled murders, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess it was kind of my way trying to show you that I didn’t believe them.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Taking in your words, it warms my heart hearing you tell me that you have known pretty much the entire time we’ve known each other and yet you don’t believe anything anyone has told you. I chuckle at the impression you give of the older lady before I’m taking your hand in mine and kissing the back of it. “I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me. I was planning to tell you in my own time. I wasn’t ready just yet and it sucks that people don’t know how to just…leave things alone. But thank you for…believing in me, I guess?”

I look down at our hands in my lap before I speak once again, “I-I’m not ready to tell you everything, but I will. I just ask for you to be patient with me.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I feel relieved when you say you’re not upset with me for not saying anything. Blush rushes to my cheeks when you grab my hand and kiss it.

“Take all the time you need Eds,” I follow suit by lifting your hand and kissing the back and continuing to hold it, “I know having dinner at home isn’t typical for a first date but let’s eat and continue that conversation that was so rudely interrupted. Oh!” I pull my hand away and go to the kitchen again. I stand on my tiptoes to grab two wine glasses, then a bottle of wine I had in the fridge. Digging for my bottle opener I talk with you, “Gotta have the whole experience right?”

After pouring two glasses, I set one in front of you and take a sip of mine. I take my first bite of food, “Mm! This is really good, even after being taken to go.” I giggle into my hand, “So I believe I was about to say I’d love to see the pretty colors around where you live so I can paint them.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My smile widens when we go back to our earlier conversation at the restaurant, taking a sip of my own wine after swallowing a bite of ravioli. “I think you’d like it there. There’s a small lake nearby that I like to go to. The sunrise there is always so beautiful.” I tell you before I blush and clear my throat. “We don’t have to go there anytime soon. I know we’ve really just started…this and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by inviting you over too soon.”

I realize I’m beginning to ramble and decide to change the subject. “You said you were writing a fantasy romance novel. What exactly is it about?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I can’t help but snicker a little when you say you don’t want to make me uncomfortable by inviting me over so soon, “Eddie you’re literally in my apartment right now.” But you bring up a good point. What is this? What are we after this even if it goes well?

My heart skips when you ramble and then change the subject, especially when you’re asking me about my book, “Oh well, it’s about a princess of a kingdom torn by war who falls in love with the knight sworn to protect her. It’s still a work in progress so she’s not told him how she feels yet but he’s about to leave at the king’s request to attempt to slay the dragon terrorizing the kingdom.” I realize I’m rambling and you probably don’t want to hear about this. Jackson certainly never did. He thought my books were weird, “Anyways, like I said. Still working on it but I’d love to get it published someday.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I’m enthralled with every word you say as I listen intently while I eat. Noticing you falter, I furrow my eyebrows in concern for a moment before I’m smiling once again when you say you’d love to get it published. “That sounds amazing! I love fantasy. Tolkien is one of my favorite authors. I’d love to read what you have if you’d let me.”

After your little story summary, I chuckle sheepishly as I say, “I’ve kind of always been a sucker for romance. It’s kind of hard to find people who want to incorporate that in their roleplay while playing dnd. But one year we had these two people in our club back in high school who liked each other and expressed that through their roleplay. I was rooting for them the whole time. Even scrapped an idea I had that would make a tragic ending for one of the characters just so they could be together.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You saying you’d like to read my work lights a fire in my belly and it takes every bit of focus not to run and grab my notebooks right this second for you to read my rough draft!

I’m glad I didn’t because as soon as you say you’re a sucker for romance my heart melts, “That’s absolutely adorable! It’s kinda funny you mention that because I did play around with the idea of having the knight in my story die during battle and the princess vows to spend her life training to defeat the dragon that took her love away.” I can’t help but grin as we discuss these sorts of topics. My tone lowers a little and I can’t hide the shyness, “So did they end up together? The people in your campaign I mean.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Grinning at your question, I say, “I’ll have you know that the two adventurers are happily married in the story and also in real life.” Biting my lip, I look down at my nearly empty wine glass and swirl my middle finger around the rim. “They got married last year but I uh…I couldn’t attend unfortunately.” I let out a huff and a small, humorless chuckle as I shrug.

Not wanting to bring the mood down, I smile once more and stand up with my plate before grabbing yours when I see that it’s empty as well. “I think the least I can do is wash the dishes for you, huh?” I ask as I make my way to the sink.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My heart breaks when you tell me you couldn’t go to a friend's wedding, I can only imagine what stopped you and I'm puffing out my cheeks like a chipmunk in frustration, “I’m so sorry Eddie. You shouldnt’ve had to miss something like that.”

When you offer to do the dishes I let you with a smile, “That sounds great.” I grab a dish towel from the stove, “You wash and I’ll dry ok?”

The domestic charm filling my apartment right now is palpable. We continue quiet conversation and after a bit we finish, “Thanks Eds.” Stepping up on my toes I kiss your cheek, “I’m going to grab a blanket since my legs are a little cold in this dress and I’ll meet you on the couch. You decide which movie we should start with ok?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

When you tell me your cold I interject, “You don’t have to wear that, you know.” I blush at the insinuation before continuing. “I just mean that you’re home and if you want to get comfortable I won’t mind.”

Once you’re out of sight, I shake my head at myself and roll my eyes. “Nice going, Eddie.” I criticize before walking over to where the movies are placed and pick up The Evil Dead to watch first, thinking that we could watch the scary movie first before watching something a little more lighthearted that could potentially make you feel better after watching something so scary.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I chew on my lip as I hear you say I could get more comfortable. I decide to test the waters and do just that. I slip in my bedroom and slide off my tights, then pull my dress up over my head. I decide to leave on my bra and panties but I change into my favorite sleep shorts and the Corroded Coffin shirt I made you. Since that night I gave it to you I cut mine a little bit more so it’s more of a crop top. When I lift my arms up over my head a sliver of my tummy shows. I check myself in the mirror on the back of my door, reaching up seeing how it looks and a wicked grin splits on my face. I can’t wait to see his reaction to this!

I head back out into the hallway between where my room is and my living room. To the right of my bathroom sits a small linen closet where I keep blankets. I’m thanking whatever god there is that my big fluffy blanket is on the top shelf because I can use this as a chance to tease you and see how you react to my change in attire when I try to reach it myself, “Eds? Can you come help me reach this down please? It’s on the top shelf and got pushed to the way back?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Pushing the tape in the VCR, I turn on the TV and press pause to wait for you before I decide to grab our snacks and place them on the coffee table in front of the couch. I start to feel nervous again, my thoughts from earlier swirling around and I look at the couch that we will be sitting on together. It’s when you call for me that I’m able to snap out of it. Walking over to where you are, my eyes widen and I nearly choke on air as I look at you struggling to reach the blanket. Only seeing the back of the black shirt, my eyes wander to the sliver of skin that is exposed from you reaching up, while your sleep shorts fit snugly on your hips.

My brain short circuits for a moment as I mentally fall to my knees, I feel a quiet whine get caught in my throat. I have to clear it so I can speak properly. “I-I’ve got it.” Cursing myself for stuttering, I get up close from behind you, trying not to press into your back as I reach up and easily grab the blanket for you. “Here.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Feeling your presence right behind me, almost hovering just out of reach against my back, my breath sucks in sharply. Even though you're not touching me I can feel the warmth and all it would take is me shifting backwards just a touch and I’d make contact with you. When you pull back and offer me the blanket I look up at you with a glazed expression. I want to grab onto your neck and kiss you until I can’t breathe while I run my finger through your curls. Instead I grab your hand, “Thanks Eds. The struggles of being short, come on, let's go watch that movie.” I lead you back towards the couch and I go hit play on the video that I see paused on the screen. Then I turn to you, “I’m excited to see your favorite movie, even if I might close my eyes during the scary parts. Promise not to tease me ok?”

Before I sit down my heart is pounding because this moment sets the tone for the rest of our movie night. Where will you choose to sit? I want to give you space in case you need it so I decide to sit in the corner against the throw pillows with the blanket over my lap, “Come make yourself comfy Eddie,” I give the space right next to me a pat inviting you to sit as close as you feel comfortable with.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My heart stutters when I see the look in your eyes, wondering if you’re feeling the same way I am right now. An intense need to kiss you breathless washes over me, to press you against the wall and trace my hands up your sides. I’m thankful when you grab my hand as it distracts from my current desires. Chuckling from your words, I squeeze your fingers. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t tease you too harshly.” I give you a playful wink with a grin.

Watching you get comfortable, I wonder if you’d want me to sit next to you or if you’d rather some distance. When you sit at the corner, it makes me think it’s the latter rather than the former, and my heart sinks a little before you’re patting the space next to you. Relief washes over me and I smile before I decide to sit down right next to you and place my arm around the back of the couch behind you. “Is this okay?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Happiness fills my chest when you choose to sit right next to me, then when you put your arm around behind me I fail to resist my urges this time. I adjust myself, sinking back into the couch until your arm is resting on me and your hand comes to sit cupping my shoulder. I turn my head, flushing even more with our proximity, and smile at you, “More than ok Eds.”

The movie plays and I find myself invested in the story, that is until the first scene where people start dying. I’m strong through the first few scary moments but then a particularly gory death with a shovel happens suddenly.

Shying away without thinking, my eyes slam shut. I twist and hide my face in your shoulder. I cling to the blanket harder and let a few little startled whimpers escape, “Oh that was so gross looking!” My toes curl and I keep my face hidden in your comforting arm until I hear the screaming stop. I talk into the fabric of your shirt where my face is still seeking refuge, “Is it safe again, because I’ll gladly stay right here if I’m going to see someone else get their head cut off!”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

It makes my heart flutter when you sink further into my arm, and I decide to scoot just a little closer to feel your warmth more while curling my arm around you a bit better.

As the movie goes on I try not to add my commentary like how I usually would when I show people this movie, wanting you to watch it and form your own opinion. I look to you every time something scary happens to see little reactions but suddenly you’re hiding yourself in my arm and my heart picks up speed. I instinctively bring you closer in means to comfort you, rubbing your arm up and down soothingly as I look down at you.

I decide to prolong this for a little longer, enjoying that you find comfort in me rather than being scared of me like nearly everyone else in this town. “Uh…hold on I’ll let you know,” I say while glancing at the tv to see that it indeed is safe for you to come back up but I’m enjoying this too much for it to end so quickly.

Slowly, I tuck some hair behind your ear, the tips of my fingers brushing against your cheek after as I look down at you intently. Leaning down, I kiss the top of your head before mumbling, “it’s safe,” into your hair.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Feeling your hand rubbing my arm soothes my nerves. Your warmth is so comforting and I want to spend all night in your embrace. The more time I spend with you I’ve learned that you are actually kind of shy, except when you're on stage. When you're performing you light up! I love watching you jump around and play with all your heart brings me so much joy. But this? This is something completely different and I want more. Your shy little touches and glances I catch you making make me so happy!

When you kiss the top of my head and tuck some hair behind my ear you pull me from my thoughts, “Thank you brave knight. I might require your services again, I wish I wasn’t so squeamish because the story about this book is actually really interesting!” I leave your side just briefly to grab my candy from the table, before quickly snuggling back up close to you, missing your warmth. I open the box and pop a few in my mouth before offering you some.

As the story progresses and the end is nearing, I need your protection again during the ending scene when all but the main character dies. When the screen goes black and the credits start rolling, I don’t want to move again. I nuzzle my head into your arm, “Ok I’ll admit. That wasn’t too bad. You were right, gory but a good story.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“So you liked it then?” I ask as I get up to start rewinding the tape before turning to look at you. “They came out with a second one last year. Made it into a comedy too. It’s actually pretty good if you want to watch that together sometime.” I grin before I remove the tape once it’s fully rewound and put it back in its case.

Biting my lip, I look at the time as I fiddle with the case of The Princess Bride. It’s getting late and I don’t want to leave yet but I also don’t want to overstay my welcome. Releasing my lip from my teeth, I look at you. “Do you want to put on the next one?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I squish my legs together as you ask me if I want to watch the other movie with me. It’s late but I definitely don’t want you to leave yet. I still haven’t worked up the nerve to kiss your lips again since earlier. I nod with a big smile, “Absolutely Eds! Pop that in and get back over here big boy! You’re a great cuddler, like a teddy bear!” I lift my arms up from the blanket and reach out for you.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My eyes seem to twinkle a little when you agree and tell me to cuddle with you again, not wasting any time and putting the movie in the VCR and pushing play before I’m making my way back to the couch. Feeling more comfortable, I decide to do what I wanted to do earlier. Sitting on the other end of the couch, I motion you over as I gently take your hand. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

Pulling you closer, I sit back and get comfortable before having you sit in my lap. I wrap my arms around your waist and hook my chin over your shoulder so I can see the tv. “This okay?” I ask once again, hoping that I haven’t crossed a line.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My pulse quickens and anticipation builds as you take hold of my hand with that sweet voice telling me to come to you. I let your hand guide me to rest in your lap. Your hand around my waist sends shivers through my whole body! I feel your chin come to rest on my shoulder and your whisper in my ear asking if how we are sitting is ok. I nod really slowly and finally find my words, “Y-yeah, this is really nice.”

The opening sequence starts playing and at first I’m a little confused why your friend described this as a fantasy romance. But then as grandpa begins the story and we are introduced to the main characters. I’m immediately smitten with Westley and his sweet ‘as you wish’ voice. I lean back and try to look up at you, “Ok Robin knew what she was doing.” I chuckle a little, “This is perfect to follow up spooky demons from an evil book that possesses people.”

As the story continues, it reaches a point where the lovers were reunited. My heart pounds as we start to watch them kiss after being apart but I laugh when the little boy interrupts asking if there’s kissing in this story.

I feel a slight shift in the mood on that couch as we watch Buttercup and Westley kissing. I press against you and speak while keeping my eye on the screen. My voice is low, barely a whisper, “T-that kiss earlier tonight outside the restaurant felt really nice Eds.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I feel relieved when you tell me that sitting in my lap is nice, giving your side a light squeeze and I decide to kiss your shoulder blade softly as the movie starts. Robin was right. This is definitely something I love. It reminds me of earlier when I told you I’m a sucker for romance.

Chuckling at your words, I nod in agreement. “Rob is really good about that kind of stuff. I feel like Family Video got a lot busier because of her film recommendations to people. She’s great about reading others.” I tell you as I absently trail my fingers up and down your arm. “Okay, I already love the dynamic between Inigo and Westley,” I laugh. I bet they’re gonna become buddies later on.

Then it gets to the kissing scene, and my mouth goes dry for a second as my mind wanders to earlier outside of Enzo’s when I kissed you. Watching the way Westley holds Buttercup as they lie together in the grass, it stirs something in me and I swallow hard. Then you’re speaking, and you’re telling me how the kiss we shared earlier felt nice. It makes my heart stutter and I don’t realize I’m twiddling with the hem of your sleep shorts in a nervous habit until I’m already doing it. Stopping myself, I keep my hand on your waist and turn you a little so we can look at one another a little better.

My eyes meet yours but travel down to your lips for a long moment before they meet your eyes once more. “I-I thought so too,” I say honestly, softly. Bringing my hand up, I cup your jaw and run my thumb along your cheekbone delicately. “Is it…Can I kiss you again?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My pulses races so fast I think my heart may burst out of my chest when you turn me to look into my eyes, cup my cheeks, and continue playing with the edge of my shorts mindlessly with your thumb.

The look in your warm brown eyes as you touch my cheek, asking for permission to kiss me. I’d give you every permission in the book just to look into those warm eyes again. I reach up and cup your cheek in my hand and nod slowly. Without pulling my hand away, the movie briefly forgotten, I lean up and whisper against your cheek, “Kiss me Eddie.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My nose brushes against yours when you lean up and my eyelids fall shut as my breathing becomes a bit shallow from the anticipation before you’re telling me to kiss you. Letting out a breath through my nose, I trail my hand on your cheek to the nape of your neck as I hold you there. I let our lips brush together for a few moments, nudging our noses and briefly pressing my forehead to yours before I finally close the space.

And when I’m finally kissing you, the hand playing with your shorts finds home on your hip and I rub circles into your hip bone with my thumb. I give you tender pecks when I need air before I’m diving back in and slotting your bottom lip between my lips, giving it a very subtle suck before I’m letting it go and pulling you closer to me while my hand trails to the small of your back.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Your rough hands feel like silk against the back of my neck as you pull me in a guide our lips together, teasing me a little with kisses to the forehead and brushing your lips against mine. When you finally start kissing me I let out a whimper that I’ve wanted to release all night from being around you. Every touch you are giving me in this moment is soft and sweet. My muscles twitch and stretch feeling your thumb against the bare skin of my hip.

I want to adjust myself, up from the couch, straddle your lap and cup your face with my hand and I smother you in kisses! But I also don’t want to risk losing you by moving too fast so I take all the delicious kisses you give me and I repay you with my hands wandering along your shoulders and covered collarbones, along with more encouraging noises between our kisses. When I feel your mouth give my plump bottom lip a soft suck I feel my body melt into your arms, I can’t hold back the moan I let out when I feel your hand on my back, “Mm! Eddie, I could kiss you all night” My hands continue exploring your chest until-

A loud noise on the movie startles me and I feel myself jump! I look up at you wide eyed and giggle, a little embarrassed, “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I let out a rumbling hum with the noises you’re making. Knowing I’m the one causing those little noises makes my head feel fuzzy and I deepen the kiss and tighten my hold on you slightly. I want to kiss you until my lungs burn for air, until my lips feel like they might fall off, until the fucking sun comes up.

My need for you grows with every passing second and causes a slight tightness in my pants that I have to focus on keeping down in order not to freak you out. But then you’re moaning and it twitches, nearly throbs with interest and want and fuck I want to hear you make that noise again. Letting you talk, my lips trail to your jaw for a moment as you tell me you could kiss me all day. With a breath against your lips, I say, “Me too, baby.” And I’m about to dive back in when we both jump from the loud noise on the screen.

My chest heaves slightly as my heart races while I look down at you, my eyes hooded and slightly blown out from hearing you moan. Giving a chuckle and wide smile, I lean in for one more soft kiss. “S’okay, sweet girl.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I catch my breath after my swollen lips leave yours. I know I should stop because if I continue kissing you like this I won’t be able to stop. I wrap my arms around you and kiss your cheek, “This movie is really good. I’m almost glad that jerk interrupted our meal because it meant I got to have a romantic dinner at home with you.”

Before I get comfy again, I grab my candy and decide to see if I’m having the same effect on you that you're having on me. Instead of offering you one of the small chocolate morsels, I lay back in your lap against your chest, bring my hand up and I hold it delicately between my fingers. I slide it into your awaiting mouth, just the slightest bit of my finger touching your tongue. With a smirk I turn back to finish watching the movie.

“Ok this movie is probably my new favorite of all time!” I declare as the credits roll. I’ve had so much fun with you tonight and I don’t want it to end but I know that all good things come to an end eventually. As the credits roll I get up off the couch and lift you by the hands to join me, “I had a lot of fun tonight Eddie. So how would you rate your first date?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

My dick twitches in my pants once again when you feed me the candy, feeling your finger brush on my tongue and it takes everything for me not to give it a little suck before you’re pulling away. Fuck, she’s going to kill me. Is she doing this on purpose? But soon we’re watching the rest of the movie and I calm down as much as I can with my boner not going away anytime soon. It’s been so fucking long, sue me!

With your declaration, I grin and squeeze your side. “It is really good,” I agree. “I’m happy you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

Taking your hands and standing when you pull me up, I look down at you and smile when you tell me you had fun. “I did too, sweetheart.” When you ask me to rate my first date, I let out a breathy chuckle before humming in thought, shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans as one eye closes as I think. “Um…9 out of 10.” I say with a nod and grin. “Could’ve gone without the beginning, but it did lead to a great end.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I nod with a smile, “I’d agree, although,” I grab your hand and pull you closer to me. My body pressed right up against yours and I smirk a little when I feel the tightness in your pants against my leg. Pride fills my chest knowing that I had to be the cause of that, “I liked defending your honor! Like the brave knight in my story. You’ve been so kind to me Eddie I couldn’t just let them say those horrible things.” I bring my arms up around your neck and pull you into a hug, “I really want to ask you to stay but you’re too important to me. I don’t want to take things too fast.”

I think about how Jackson and I’s relationship began hard and fast in high school. We slept together almost immediately and the more I think about it, I wonder if we hadn’t done that, would I have stayed with him so long. I’ve never experienced dating as an adult until now and all I know for certain is that this, “I really like you Eds. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been the most fun I’ve had in my whole life. I’d love to go out like this again sometime. Maybe we could try a different restaurant outside of town or maybe one day we could take a road trip into the city and I could show you some places I used to love. I want to do everything, experience everything, with you.” I lean up on my tiptoes to kiss your lips, “I want to show you that I meant it when I said I’d wait until you were ready to tell me about everything.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I briefly freeze up when you press yourself on me, hoping you don’t notice that I have a hard on pressed against your thigh, but your smirk tells me you do and my cock twitches yet again when I realize you’re teasing me and it isn’t bothering you one bit. I have to clear my throat so I don’t let out a grunt from the slight friction. I want nothing more than to press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you, feel you around me, but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for.

Especially when you say you don’t want to take things too fast. I can agree. I’ve never had a relationship before, but I have experience in the bedroom. All of it was just sex, and I don’t want that with you. I want to actually be with you and sex will eventually be a thing that happens for us, an intimate moment we can share together when we’re serious.

My heart flutters when you tell me you like me for the second time tonight before you’re saying you want to experience everything with me. It takes my breath away and I let my eyes fall shut when you kiss me. I keep you close, pressing my forehead to yours as I run my hands up and down your arms. “I like you a lot, Erica. No one has ever…” I let out a small sigh and decide not to finish that. “Thank you for today. For believing me and inviting me into your home. I can’t wait to do everything with you, sweetheart.” When I pull away, it’s with a small tug to my heart. “I should get going. I have a long drive and if you continue to be so damn sweet to me I might just stay.”

I grab my jacket, taking your hand after shrugging it on before I’m taking your hand and leading you to the front door before putting my boots on. Once I’m facing you again, I lean down and give you once last departing kiss. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“Be safe!” is the last thing I say before you leave with the promise to call me when you get home. I fall against the back of my door after locking it and let out a dreamy lovestruck sigh. You’ve stolen my heart and I don’t want it back.

Finally I lift myself up with a yawn and go to rewind the movie, clean up the candy wrappers, and head to bed. I bring the blanket we’d been laying with because it still has a faint layer of your scent lingering in the fabric.

Sleep doesn’t come as easy as I hoped because I find myself distracted with thoughts of how good it felt to feel your hardness against my thigh. I can’t get the feeling out of my mind and I spend too long fighting back the urge to slide my hands under my waistband and into my panties. I can feel my wetness starting to soak through and I know if I dipped my fingers in right now they’d be soaked, it wouldn’t take long at all to make myself- fuck it!

As soon as I picture your thick calloused fingers being the ones to dive into me I can’t hold back any more. My hand slides down my hip and into my panties, circling little swirls around my clit imagining it’s your ringed fingers teasing me. My breathing gets heavier and I feel my face flush with warmth. As I thought it doesn’t take long and I feel myself getting close just from a little teasing when my phone rings!

My hand tears out from beneath the blankets and I try to catch my startled breaths before answering, “H-hello? He-hey Eds. Did’ya make it home safe?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

The drive home is long, too long for my liking. In the beginning when I first moved to my new home and started making these trips for work, I felt like I would never get there from how far it felt, but as time went on I got used to it and the drive feels shorter and shorter every time. Now? It feels like it’s the beginning all over again. All because of a certain problem I have going on in my jeans. And I can’t make it go away because the only thing that is coming to my mind right now is you. Your eyes, your lips, your kiss. And the more I think about you, the worse it gets. I have to palm myself through the thick material of my jeans just to give myself a little relief while I’m on the road.

Finally, home, the first thing on my mind is getting rid of this fucking ache. I groan when I sit down in the recliner in my living room, too pent up to make it to my bed, and start unbuckling my belt. Once the zipper is down, I slip my hand in and palm my hard cock through my boxer briefs and sigh in relief, dropping my head back against the back of the recliner as my eyes fall shut. My thumb slides up and down the underside of my shaft through the thin material, humming contently.

My mind drifts to you, wanting to picture your hand instead of my own, but once I think about you, I realize I need to give you a call to let you know I got home. With a heavy sigh, I stop touching myself and grab my phone off the hook on the wall next to the recliner and dial your number.

It takes a few moments, but I soon hear your voice on the other end and…is she out of breath? With all of the thoughts that have been running through my head for the past hour, my cock twitches at the sound of your breathy voice filling my ears.

It was, of course, something innocent, though. Maybe she took a shower and ran to the phone when she heard the phone ring? Oh god, don’t think of her in the shower right now! Realizing I haven’t said anything, I clear my throat. “Hey, baby. You okay? You sound like you just ran a marathon.” I chuckle.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

When I hear your voice teasing me about being out of breath my coherency crumbles. Is it really that obvious? Does he somehow know what I was doing? I stammer out a vague string of sounds that only slightly resemble words, “Oh, well um, no, I was just-“ as I’m embarrassing myself, I twist in the bed and with every word adding more tension to the already stretched phone cord. With one more pull, the ringer comes tumbling off my nightstand and crashes to the floor.

“Shit!” I mutter, dropping the phone into the blankets. Crawling over to the edge and I lean down to pick it back up. Lifting it by the mangled twisted cord, I put it back on the table and then in my haste drop the receiver, “Damn it!” I say louder this time so I know you are probably worried about what the heck I’m doing, if you haven’t already hung up that is. Scrambling to get my brain back where it belongs I pick up the phone again, “Wow um well that was embarrassing. Sorry Eds, I dropped the phone.”

I still haven’t answered you when you asked if I was ok. I laugh nervously, hoping you believe my story, “Um, no, no marathons. I was uh in the other room and I guess I was just excited to talk to you again. I mean I know it’s only been an hour but I was just— how are you? Did you get home safe?” My head falls into my lap as I sit cross legged on the bed. Well, chock this up with my most embarrassing moments. Not only was I touching myself thinking about you but now I'm doing a horrible job at not making it weird after.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I’m confused as to why you suddenly sound flustered while you try to explain, and it doesn’t help the way my horny brain spirals. Maybe she was in the shower? Why does it have to be the shower, you perv?! Or maybe she was… No, no way. She couldn’t have been doing the same thing I was before I called her.

My train of thought is halted and I’m startled when I hear a crash along with you cursing before everything sounds like it’s underwater. “Erica?” I don’t get a response and I sit up a bit straighter in the recliner, suddenly feeling worried. Then the crashing sound is a bit louder, like you had dropped the receiver and my heart races. “Erica? Hello? Are you okay?” I try to keep my voice level, not wanting to sound panicked.

All these what-ifs start playing in my mind, but I know none of it should be possible. El killed Vecna for good, she closed the gates for good, nothing like that would happen. But then I start thinking about earlier at the restaurant. What if the guys followed us to your place? What if they plan to treat you like how they treated Steve and Robin and Dustin and everyone else for being friends with me? I’m beginning to feel panicked until I’m suddenly hearing your voice again.

Sighing in relief, I run my fingers through my hair before letting my head fall back against the recliner. “S’okay, sweetheart.” And I immediately begin to feel better when you start to ramble your explanation, my smile growing when you say you were excited before you’re cutting yourself off and asking me how I am. I chuckle, “I’m just fine, sweet girl. Yep, I made it home in one piece.” Except for maybe a few pieces of my heart I left with you, but I don’t say that. “How’re you?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Cha0ticSpaceBi .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I sit up straight again and lean back against my headboard when you say you got home safe and ask me how I am, “I’m great actually, the best I’ve been in a long time.” I feel a little more brave when you’re not right in front of me so I lower my voice a little and get comfy again, “I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable by saying this but I’ve never met anyone who treats me the way you do Eddie. I’ve always been the weird shy girl who listens to devil music, you make me feel like I can be myself. My ex always made me feel like I was a bother anytime I talked about my writing so,” I take a deep breath and a yawn escapes with it, “Hearing that you wanted to read my story really made my night. I should get to bed. I’ll see you again soon, ok? Goodnight Eds.” I blow you a kiss through the speaker.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ Eddie .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“You could never make me feel uncomfortable,” I assure you softly as I place a hand over my heart at the thought that you would think you could. “I don’t know if you remember who you’re talking to, baby, but I’ve always been the boy who listens to devil music. You’re in good company, Erica. I promise.” It makes me happy when you say I make you feel like you can be yourself. “Well…if it’s any consolation, I’m glad you guys didn’t work out. I wouldn’t have been able to go on a date with you and kiss you if he hadn’t. His loss is my gain. And I expect a copy of your book the next time I see you, princess. Promise me?” You’ve got me on cloud nine right now, feeling like I could climb to the top of a building and yell at the top of my lungs. It feels…it feels like home. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way. “I’ll see you again, baby. Goodnight.” I say before hanging up and smiling goofily to myself.