#A LOT OF SHIT TO UNPACK KIDS

[bi-demon-ium]

every day i think about show!mr benedict meeting books!mr benedict.

like. okay show!mr benedict is having the most crisis of his life. like a) that's him?????? that man is him????? because books!mr benedict like. he Has It Together. he's intelligent, brilliant, kind, compassionate, he knows his limits, he knows who he is and he has confidence in himself. he knows what to say, he takes care of people around him but also is taken care of and has his own support network. he's definitely had his fair share of Horrific Shit happen in his childhood, but it's very different Horrific Shit and overall he's like. pretty much emotionally stable and in a good place. his relationship with his brother is--well. it's got its own problems, but it isn't eating him up inside because it's nowhere near as personal. he's pretty much like. fine? and he's like. he's a cool old grandpa. not only has he lived long enough to be like eighty something or whatever, but he's like, cool. he's brilliant and confident and kind and he knows what to say. he isn't just "good at pretending he has his shit together for the sake of children" he actually has his shit together. he can do mildly questionable things for the right reasons and not beat himself up about it, even if he genuinely hates it had to happen and is sad about it (see cave scene) and he can have compassion for his child self and the kinds of assumptions baby books!nicholas made about other people/adults/life. meanwhile show!mr benedict kind of barely has it together at all, because the man's been through like way too many traumas in a row, some of which were deeply deeply personal and left him with just. crippling guilt and low self esteem. he's just trying his best but sometimes he snaps at people then feels horrible about it, he blames himself directly for the emergency and everyone who got hurt because of it, his relationship with curtain is just an entire can of worms, etc., and he's much younger (still not exactly young young, but in comparison to calm old experienced grandpa benedict in the books, he's young) and less experienced and just. really, really trying his best. so he's kind of a disaster and a mess, emotionally speaking, and there's this kind old man who has it TOGETHER and it's ALTERNATE FUTURE HIM, I GUESS.

b) please show!mr benedict is like. the epitome of "gifted kid(TM) who grew up way too fast" and he pretty much tries to step into the role of The Dad / The Calm Leader and even when he's obviously a mess, falling short, like. he does let himself be supported--talking to them, that is--but ultimately, he tries to bottle it up (or rather, scream in the woods and then be like "okay! clearly i am fine now" ldigjfghH) and not burden them all too much with it, and even when he does, like. they're not perfect, either. looking at you, s2!number two. (not that it's her fault, but you know.) so like. anyway, what i'm saying, is like. show!mr benedict having someone else to be the competent adult. the only paternal figures this man has ever had are probably the glenns, and we all know how that went. so like. god. show!mr benedict needs a hug so fucking bad. and like. books!mr benedict could almost be like a dad, like. someone he can talk to and not worry about trying to seem strong, not trying to keep it together, someone it's okay to burden, someone who's experienced and knows what to say... like when your'e always the one people go to, when you always try to be the person who knows what to say.... here's someone doing that for him. and like, this is literally him, albeit a weird alternate future him, so like. what secrets could he even try to keep? want to keep?

although god also show!mr benedict desperately wanting to like. make books!mr benedict proud of him, wanting to seem like. worthy. like. telling him about his brother and expecting condemnation, because clearly this nicholas benedict--this. this superior nicholas benedict, who's actually kind and selfless, who's actually brilliant and competent and knows what he's doing--this nicholas benedict wouldn't have made that mistake. this nicholas benedict wouldnt have abandoned his brother. maybe he'd failed to save his brother, but only because they'd never met, not until it was too late. nicholas had been given that chance, and he'd wasted it, he'd squandered it, and how could mr benedict not resent him for that? perhaps kindly, sadly, but nonetheless, resent him. but like. books!mr benedict knows what to say. all those things i just so desperately want someone to tell show!nicholas--it wasn't your fault, you aren't crazy or paranoid or jealous--like. here's someone who can tell him that! someone who can give him a hug and say this wasn't your fault. and like. someone maybe nicholas will believe, eventually. someone who could help him heal the way he's helped the kids (just as books!mr b as helped the others all heal, too, so i guess he's adopted his past alternate self now lgkjfgh)

my point being show!nicholas desperately deserves to experience The Mr. Benedict Effect™

....anyway meanwhile books!mr benedict is looking at this really traumatized young version of himself and going "oh boy. this kid is fucked up"

[pink-psychic]

Anyone else remember the Gone series by Michael Grant? That was fucked up right?

[possiblytracker]

valentines day became a lot more fun and less agonising to me as an ace-aro person after it finally clicked over the past few years that whatever the fuck happens today is what i make of it, and that can and does include loving and appreciating the shit out of the friends ive decided i'd like to spend my life with in a way that i can define on my own terms not limited to the generic concept of romance. which i absolutely revel in doing, personally

[theradicalace]

thinking back on my childhood and coming to terms with the fact that i was maybe slightly neglected emotionally

[signofthestriking]

Writing is fun cause you can have a villain be "a former martial arts master that fell from grace after committing a targeted massacre of Earth's warriors" and "insecure little bitch who didn't want anyone to be stronger than him and ruined his best student's life all cause she didn't want to fuck him"

Like on the one hand Yaroslav is a villain with a pretty hefty impact on the setting due to his past, but at the same time he's the kind of grown-ass man who would get his shit rocked by a gang of teenagers that he didn't even need to pick a fight with.

[novococain]

👀

[paraphwrites]

i think it's interesting that edwin attracts lonely people.

-the cat king has seemingly never had a real substantial relationship. he lives his lives playing tricks and games, not actual connections

-monty literally only ever spoken to one (1) other person, and that's his fucked up mother familiar mommy situationship that he needs, like, so much therapy to unpack

-simon, maybe the only other gay kid in this boarding school, completely isolated from his peers by virtue of his identity and society and shame

-niko, who has been hiding in her room, avoiding other people for months out of grief and something larger (the inherent unavoidable devastation of growing up alone)

-and, of course, charles. charles, who died alone. charles, one of the only non white kids at that boarding school. charles, who's dad didn't love him and who's mom didn't say anything. charles, who flirts with every girl he meets. charles, who would follow him to the end of the earth but won't ever talk about his feelings because he's brills, mate, aces. charles, who spent his entire life alone and now won't spend a minute of his afterlife alone

i dunno. i think it's interesting. edwin, who we know is lonely, attracts other lonely people.

and, not to overstep my bounds as a silly little person on tumblr, but i think it's interesting that the show has attracted a lot of lonely people, too. and i think there's a lot of reasons for that. the target demographic is teenagers & young adults, a notoriously lonely group. the show features a lot of minority characters, which will attract minority audience members, and often people who are a part of a minority feel lonely and different from the people around them. the show is about friendship and found family, and i think that attracts a lot of lonely people. shit, i'm lonely, and i was drawn to this show. yes, for the incredible music and acting and cinematography, but also because the themes are so fundamentally resonant and raw.

and THAT is why dead boy detectives is an important show. because it is a show for the lonely and the grieving and the lost. AND it is a show for the hopeful and the learning and the coping. it is a show for people who have their shit together, and people with no shit together, and people who don't even know their shit is spilt all over the floor. this show MATTERS because it speaks to the fundamental devastation in human existence AND it finds the beauty to celebrate. it says, yes, loss is horrible and life altering, and you will be okay. yes this will be awful but you will carry on. and that is SO important. do you understand how important that is?? because everyone, everyone goes through loss and change and hardships. everyone. it is a show for lonely people! and we're all fucking lonely, aren't we? isn't part of the human condition just being lonely??

dead boy detectives is a show for people wronged by men. it is a show for people coated in grief. for people who are dealing with their sexuality late in life. for people with fucked up parental relationships. for people who date as a distraction. for people who are doing great and just like a silly little ghost show! for people not doing great but trying their best anyway. most of all, it is a show for lonely people.

just. FUCK! this show MATTERS! this show MEANS SOMETHING to SO many people!! including me!!! it matters to ME!!!! and i will continue yapping about it, even if it's just into the void!!!!!!!!!!!!

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he’s into @sparklyslug

If you'd have told Eddie of a year ago that the Steve Harrington, King Steve, swim team and basketball captain, and known laundry basket thrower, was a nerd he'd have laughed in your face.

Honestly, he'd have believed you more of you'd told him Steve was bisexual and would soon be Eddie's boyfriend, both facts that threw Eddie for less of a loop than learning Steve knew the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek.

"I work at a video store Eddie, it would be hard not to know."

Eddie would believe him but his darling boyfriend knew a lot for facts he didn't expect from the beautiful brunette. Like how he knew what an owlbear was when he was rambling his campaign plans in bed one night.

"I knew the kids before you, some of it must've stuck."

Or how he knew what Metroid was when the machine came to the arcade that summer.

"The kids are always talking about new little things they want Max to try and win."

Or when Eddie was telling a story about stargazing and Steve mentioned Halley's comet from earlier in the year.

"It was on the news, Eds, not gonna miss a thing like that."

Steve had lots of explanations but now here Eddie was, unpacking boxes in Steve and Robin's new apartment and staring at work copies of The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings books. He lent over checking the side again, no that definitely says Steve's Room in big bold letters.

He placed the books on the shelf with a small smile on his face. Later, curled up in the new bed in the new room he asked, "I thought you didn't know what Mordor was, Stevie. Have you been hiding nerdy shit from me all along?"

Steve had a soft blush forming on his face, "I didn't know, at the time..."

Eddie was now more intrigued, "Wow, getting book recommendations in the middle of the end of the world, baby, priorities."

Steve laughed, the sweet smile still on his face, "No, um, I bought them cause of you but not because of that."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"They're your favourite books and I wanted to know what you were talking about anytime we hung out and mentioned it."

"Steve did you actually study just to try and impress me?"

"There's a monster manual on the shelf too."

Eddie giggled and pulled Steve closer, "Mmm talk nerd to me baby, so it wasn't just the kids you got it from."

"Oh they definitely helped, I think Dustin was going to scream when I asked him to explain the dice of your game."

Eddie looked at his boyfriend softly, no one had taken an interest in what he liked, unless they already liked it, Steve went out of his way to know Eddie, inside and out.

"I guess I should confess, I totally asked Wayne to explain to me the rules of any of the games you two watch on tv before you come over."

A brightness twinkled in Steve's eyes at the confession, "I love you."

"Love you too, baby, nerd or jock as long as you're mine."

[thistlecatfics]

Talking about Incest in Public

(both the painful traumatic kind and the hot fictional kind)

As it turns out, lots of the people who read and write taboo fiction have survived some deeply fucked up shit. After talking about incest with other survivors on the Moon, Sun & Stars discord and answering questions, I decided to share more about my experiences and the things that helped me survive and the things that helped me heal, because there are a lot of us, and a lot of us feel very alone, and maybe there are other people who aren’t incest survivors but who might want to know more to better support the survivors in their life.  

–

Incest is not just a sexual act between two family members -- it's a larger system of absence of boundaries within a family, and it's almost always part of multiple incestuous dynamics, even if only one might be the obvious or explicit dynamic. 

If you’re an incest survivor, you’re almost certainly not the only one in your family. 

-

“The true characteristics and dimensions of incestuous abuse have been masked by the taboo and silence that have surrounded its occurrence. Recent research demonstrates that incest occurs regularly in our society, perpetrated by individuals who, for the most part, would otherwise be regarded as fairly normal. The taboo on incestuous relations is a deterrent to some would-be perpetrators but not to others. The taboo contradicts the reality of incest prevalence, a fact which led Armstrong (1978) to comment that th taboo has been on the open discussion of incest and not on its perpetration.”

-Christine Courtois, “Healing the Incest Wound: Adult Survivors in Therapy” 

–

To use my family as an example - 

My (similarly aged) brother did sexual things to me as a kid, and I had a range of reactions to it including pleasure and enjoyment. And confusion. And fear. I do not think he is bad or even what he did was bad. I think we were both two kids who existed in a family with incestuous dynamics, and we were both shaped by those dynamics and trying our best to survive. 

From a young age, I existed as a physical comfort object to my mom (when she was sad she'd get into my bed to hold me until she felt better while I dissociated), and I took on the idea that my role in the family was for my body to be used to make other people feel good. The sexual behavior by my brother felt like an extension of how my mom held me. 

My mother was the victim of incest from her uncle, and her parents sided with her uncle over her when she spoke out about it (even after he was facing legal consequences for his behavior with kids outside of the family) (even after he fled the country). She didn't know how to emotionally regulate herself, and I don't think she had (or has) the capacity to understand a child's need for physical autonomy and boundaries because her own were never respected. 

There were other incestuous behaviors and dynamics within my family which I'm continuously discovering and unpacking. I think my mom’s uncle abused my grandmother too but I’ll never know for sure. It’s deeply uncomfortable to look back on a happy family story or a childhood nickname and see something sinister underneath and wonder if you’re being paranoid or if it’s actually that bad.  

–

Things that have helped: 

Long term relational therapy (5+ years). EMDR. Adopting a cat. Adopting more cats. Antidepressants. Reading about incest (realistic, terrifying, academic). Reading about incest (fictional, hot, amateur). Being a competitive athlete. Getting a graduate degree. Going on long walks late at night. Telling my family I had Covid so I could skip a family vacation. 

These books specifically: Healing the Incest Wound by Christine Courtois, The Myth of Normal, Dissociation Made Simple, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, The Narcissistic Family Unit, Clementine Morrigan’s writing x1000. 

The protector parts: Eating disorder. Self harm. Drinking. Perfectionism. Depression. Suicidal ideation. I’m grateful to these imperfect protectors I’ve leaned on over the years. 

Things that have not helped: 

You will be shocked to hear that people on the internet yelling about how people who find fictional incest hot are disgusting and bad and dangerous did NOT in fact help me unlearn the belief that experiencing incest made me disgusting and bad and dangerous. Luckily, I’m built of spite. But it certainly did not help. 

(If I think about my vulnerable pre-teen/teen self reading those things, I become deeply angry. How dare you hurt her in the name of protection.)

- I don’t cater to all these vipers Dressed in empath’s clothing God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see

-Taylor Swift, But Daddy I Love Him

-

After I discovered fanfiction in middle school, and then after I realized that there was a world beyond OFC/Draco Malfoy fic, I read a lot of Blackcest. I devoured any I could find, hopping through rec lists on LiveJournal. 

Reading Blackcest fics, first Bellatrix/Sirius then Sirius/Regulus mostly, allowed me to see my experiences reflected. Those fics gave me a way to contextualize my family and my role in it. I hate the expectation that kids who experience bad things should go to a safe trusted adult rather than find art that romanticizes their experience. The whole point is that there isn’t a safe trusted adult. The whole point is that I needed the art. I got to hold the romanticized narrative until I got far enough away that I could put it away in a box until I had enough therapy that I could safely open the box and build a new, more honest story. 

Obviously plenty of people love incest smut and fic and art. It’s taboo! It’s angsty! It’s a classic! Probably most of those people don’t have direct personal experience with incest in their families. I’m glad they read and write fics too. 

But for me – have you ever experienced something you believe so strongly you will never be able to say aloud? That any time you see your secret referenced it’s in shock and disgust and revulsion? You can pretend – you’re very good at pretending – but you know it’s real, and you know it’s your secret you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life while the world reminds you how disgusting you are? 

Then you find that people are writing about what you experienced in a thousand variations that all contain some nugget of your truth.

I cannot express in words how important it was that I found those stories at that time. 

I never commented on a single fic. I never made a single account on any of the sites I read fanfiction on. I clicked the “yes I’m 18” box without hesitation every time. I wish I could go back in time and have my adult self articulate the enormity of my gratitude for each and every author who helped save me whose work exists on sites I can only revisit with the Wayback Machine. 

I understand why people might feel horrified at the idea of a 11-12 year old reading smutty incest Harry Potter fanfic. People aren’t wrong for feeling that way. 

That said, I truly don’t care what people who aren’t incest survivors think.

I’m so proud of that child for finding a way to survive. She might have hated herself, might have fantasized about death, but she survived and kept the truth of her experience wrapped up in a fictional world where it could be safe to explore and kept it there until years and years of therapy made it possible to engage with it in reality. 

- I’m a real tough kid I can handle my shit They said, babe, you got to fake it till you make it And I did

-Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart -

No one is writing about incest the way Clementine Morrigan is right now. I’m so grateful for her. I’m not sure this little tumblr post would exist without her essay series. 

"Incest functions as a spell of unreality. A structure of nothingness. A completely normal and unremarkable family life in which something unnameable is ominously and terrifyingly wrong. You know in the summer when you can see the heat making the air go squiggly? Imagine those squiggles as an indication that in the seeming nothingness, there is something there. Incest is like that. Subtle, pervasive, unthinkable, unnameable. But present, felt.

As a teenager I came up with this metaphor: Imagine you are in a house full of bugs. There are bugs crawling all over all the walls and all the furniture and in your food and even on the fork you are lifting to your mouth. And you feel disgusted, you feel like something is really wrong. But your whole family is acting completely normal, laughing and eating and talking as bugs crawl over their faces and into their mouths. When you tell them you think there are bugs in your food your family says it’s just pepper and not to worry about it.

There is no way to talk about incest without feeling that you are lying. This is because incest lives in the realm of unreality and everything in the realm of unreality cannot be thought or said or named. When you speak of things that happen in the realm of unreality it will always feel like a lie and be treated like a lie. You are breaking the fundamental rule. You are not allowed to talk about what goes on in the realm of unreality because it isn’t real."

Read more and pay for her writing if you can on her substack.

-

Without a doubt, the not-explicitly-sexual incest from my mom fucked me up more than the explicitly sexual incest from my brother, but I only feel confident claiming the incest survivor label because sexual stuff was done to me by a family member, and I still feel like I’m lying sometimes because it wasn't bad enough to count. 

I’m a literal mental health clinician who can map out various incestuous dynamics within my family and who has clear memories of a family member doing sexual stuff to my child body, and I still feel like I’m lying. 

I believe you if you feel like a liar because I bet you do. I believe you if the incest never included anything directly physical. I believe you if you enjoyed it. I believe you if you don’t remember but feel like it’s true. 

I love us. 

If we’re monsters, I love our courageous monstrosity.

If we’re liars, I love the way we make up stories to survive when reality is impossible. 

If we’re an uncomfortable truth, good. 

-

It still impacts me. I’m not over it. 

It’s very difficult for me to imagine love that does not include violation. To be loved and to be allowed to maintain a self. 

But I’m open to learning otherwise, and that openness is new. 

-

I was so, so good at living in unreality. I could make myself perfect, such a flawless object until I couldn’t think of anything except killing myself, but even then I still maintained the image of perfection my family expected. 

It’s cool I never actually killed myself. 

I find it hard to be around my family now. There are advantages of living in unreality. I drink a lot more when I’m around my family than I ever did before, but I don’t think about killing myself nearly as much. Reality is worth it. Being able to exist as a person is worth it. 

- I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

-Sylvia Plath

- I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. (I insist.)

It didn’t kill me then. It’s not going to kill me now. (I remind myself.) 

My life is worth living, and there are fights worth fighting, and it is undeniably true the world is full of horror, but it is good to write and create and be alive, and it is good to try. I’m a little afraid to post this, but the fear and shame isn’t mine to hold, and I never should have been the one holding it. 

Consider this a thank you note sent out to the universe in the hopes the sentiment echoes towards those authors who saved me then and to all the writers who are saving people now. Your art matters. No matter how weird or niche or dismissed or hated it is. It matters. 

Thank you.

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 2

Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader

Part 1 here

smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)

“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others. 

“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me. 

“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified. 

I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.” 

After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much. 

While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him. 

A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side. 

“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.” 

“Hey, its good to be home.”

“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.” 

I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”

I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak. 

I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading. 

Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..

Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 

Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks. 

I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think  I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive. 

I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god. 

That can’t be… 

I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment. 

“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.

“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.

I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. 

“Baby, please. Listen.” 

“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip. 

“Please, just let me explain.”

“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch. 

My hands flew up. “Oh, great.” 

“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”

“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing. 

“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”

I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. 

He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me. 

“Yes, actually.” 

His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”

"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat. 

"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.

"Wh-what?"

"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better." 

I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin. 

My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.

"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.

I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again." 

He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.

2 weeks later...

I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.

The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.

Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window. 

Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both. 

A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.

I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"

Oh.. it's just..

"The hells going on with you and Negan?"

"What?" 

"Ya heard me."

I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.

"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak. 

"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"

Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."

Tears filled my eyes. 

“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”

"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?" 

"You should know. He only went to your house."

I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.

Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk. 

Part 3 here

tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires

[bagofshinyrocks]

Snow Angels... Kinda

Prompt: Simon is sent outside to shovel the snow from the driveway, and the little one joins him. Whether or not he's of help to his dad is another matter entirely. [Requested by @ertepla]

Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Spouse!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: expletives

Simon was usually the monument of speed and efficiency. Grocery store runs were completed in less than ten minutes, didn’t even need to call you for clarification. Could get dressed in all his winter attire in about 2 minutes, starting in pajamas and ending in what you called a tactical marshmallow. And the snow in the driveway stood no chance once he whipped out the shovel.

Except when it came to your son.

He had to set a timer when it was time for the boy’s baths, otherwise he and the one-and-a-half-year-old would spend an hour splashing and dunking toys.

Making dinner was still speedy, but if your son was strapped to his chest, both of them would get distracted. The boy would try to stick his hands in everything, and Simon would let him.

“He’ll be pissed off if I don’t let him eat plain flour, and he’ll be pissed off if I do let him. In one of these cases, he’ll learn that he doesn’t like plain flour.”

The little shit kept eating plain flour.

And even if Simon did everything wrong when distracted by your baby (not that he ever did, the perfect bastard), you’d never wish it any different. The gentle side of him was one of your favorite parts of him, and your son had never seen any other.

The pediatrician noted that your baby knew a good many more words than the average kid his age, and you (to Simon’s embarrassment) chalked it up to how much Simon spoke to him.

You heard the rustling of Simon’s winter gear, and immediately your son perked up. 

“Dada?” he shouted.

More rustling and Simon looked in the doorway.

“Wassit, munchkin?”

You watched as the boy scrambled towards him, giggling.

“Do you want to help Dada with the snow?” you cooed, beaming.

Simon scooped him up and plastered his face in kisses. “Aw, little man’s always so helpful.” He glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. “But it’s almost his bedtime, innit? Alright if he comes with me?”

“Please. Tire him out so he’ll go to sleep.”

Simon chuckled and gave the boy a little toss in the air. “Let’s get you all bundled up, yeah?”

Simon took his time to bundle the boy up, with a sweater, a waterproof snowsuit, boots, a hat, a scarf, and mittens. The boy could barely walk in shoes, and you imagined there would be a lot of snow piles with a baby-shaped belly flop.

Simon would get two or three shovelfuls worth of snow into a pile, and then pause to see what the baby was doing. Putting snow in his mouth, and then spitting it out and whining at the temperature. Climbing up or sitting down in the piles. Trying to take the shovel from his dad.

Your husband sat the boy on the blade of the shovel and skidded him along the driveway. You could hear both of them laughing from inside.

Simon was about halfway through when your son tried walking again. Leaning onto furniture worked, but leaning into piles of unpacked snow was not helpful. With a squawk, he fell sideways into a pile.

Your husband turned at the squawk and belly laughed at the scene. Two kicking legs and nothing else.

He walked over and grabbed one of the flailing limbs. The boy’s snowy face came into view as Simon lifted him out of the pile with one hand, dusting him off a bit with the other. 

Normally, a baby would cry. But his dad was laughing and asking his son cheerfully about what he was doing. And so the boy laughed and squealed and clapped his mittened hands.

“Simon Riley,” you hollered from the kitchen window.

He turned with a grin and gave the boy a little swing.

“Don’t you dare drop my damn baby.”

Simon pretended to do so, lowering the boy, and then pulling him back up. Then lowering him, then pulling him back up. Both of them laughed and laughed, and you pretended to gasp each time.

An hour later, the boy was fast asleep in his crib.

“Aw, he snores just like you,” teased Simon.

You swatted him. “Piss off. Good thing it’s not like yours, or the whole neighborhood would hate us.” 

The two of you left the nursery and went to your own bedroom, where two heating pads lay in your respective spots.

You crawled into bed with a quiet sigh, and Simon did so with a loud series of groans and grumbles. You kicked his thigh. 

“You’ve been a dad for a year and a half and you already sound like one.”

“Hell you talkin’ about?”

You imitated the noises he made earlier right in his face, and he covered your face with a pillow.

“My fuckin’ back hurts.”

“The baby’s that heavy that you hurt your back?”

“What? Nah, he’s easy to carry. Could throw him 50 meters. No, the snow is heavy.” He sighed and settled on his back, letting you curl up around him. “And I’m an old man, now, lovie.”

You hummed and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest through his shirt and the steady beat of his heart. Then his chest jerked up and down rapidly with a chuckle, and you opened an eye in faux annoyance.

“Sorry, lovie, just remembering how he ate shit in the driveway.”

You both snickered at the Loony Tunes-type scene from earlier.

“The driveway is clear, but all the ground around it has his belly-flops and face-plants.”

“They’re snow angels, honey.”

A fresh bout of laughter at the comparison.

Posted: 2023 Dec 11

[lastoneout]

As much as my ADHD has made my life absolute hell at times and I truly wish I had been diagnosed sooner...as I unpack my past in therapy I've realized my undiagnosed ADHD actually did do me one HUGE favor.

Bcs without getting too into it my response to the specific way I was raised and the trauma that came with it was to make myself smaller. A lot of kids in my situation would have just lashed out, but I just started cutting bigger and bigger bits of myself off because I thought if I wanted attention or affection then I needed to be perfect and normal and not even the smallest burden or inconvenience to the people around me, and I fell so hard into that mentality that part of healing has legit been trying to like get back in contact with who I was before all that made me into someone I wasn't.

Which is hard, but not impossible, because during all that trauma no matter how hard I tried to shove everything "ugly" and "imperfect" about myself into a tiny little box where no one would ever see it until I was the perfect daughter, I couldn't quite manage to get all of me in there, because my ADHD wouldn't let me.

And as I was growing up I saw this as a bad thing, obviously. Like I didn't know it was ADHD at the time ofc but I knew that my impulsiveness and loud ass laugh and distractability and habit of talking too much to fast and struggle to shut the fuck up about whatever weird thing I was into were parts of me I could never seem to fully change. No matter how hard I tried to be quiet and have normal interests and stop doing impulsive shit like talking really loud or going off about an interest I know no one around me shared, I couldn't actually do it.

So now, looking back with a healthier frame of mind, with a fiancé who became interested in me bcs we shared one of my "weird" interests, who smiles and laughs and tells me he loves me when I get loud and passionate about things I care about, who loves my loud ass laugh so much that once after I was sick and didn't laugh for like a week the first time I did went "oh good, I missed that sound", I can see at least a bit of good in the ways my ADHD stopped me from being able to destroy myself completely for the sake of others.

More often than not my ADHD was a huge rock tying me down, but it turns out deep inside that rock was a geode protecting the things about myself that I used to hate but now love more than anything, and now that the rock is smaller and easier to carry I can be thankful for that.

[bnnuy-wabbit]

Man, I'm gonna be honest. I played the two partnered endings back to back to see the differences and I like the detective kuuno ending more than the one where we recruit kim! Its just much more fulfilling emotionally!!!!

Kim is overall very serious and composed about stuff and hes well respected by the other cops. When you get to keep your job and recruit him it DOES feel good!! Because it was smooth and really cool of him to defend you like that and you've gotten yourself a friend! a friend who truly trusts you and believes in you. Kim is the nicest and most patient man on planet earth.

But Cuno??? It's a different message. Cuno knows fuckall. Nobody there respects him and he doesnt have the measured responses and fancy words kim has, just pure utter PASSION. He almost cries of RAGE when people dont listen to him when you're trying to convince everybody about the Phasmid. Jean specifically is a cunt to Cuno and spaces out all the time and doesnt listen to anything he says ("you're hearing, but you're not listening"). Nobody believes him. Nobody takes him seriously. He's used to that, i bet.

During the islet section, Cuno is A LOT like Harry. having him around as your partner isnt like having kim at all. he doesnt help with cop stuff or adult stuff. rather, he says your lines for you. i just played the one with kim and CUNO SAYS WHAT YOU WOULD SAY IF YOU WERE WITH KIM. he has the same thought processes as You do. he asks questions just like you do. he acts a bit like you do. he makes comments you would sometimes. He literally says YOUR lines in his runs. and hes impulsive and a child, so he asks it willy nilly. you have to be the responsible one now, you need to hold him back if anything.

And then the way cuno literally BEGS the officers to let him join? to take him away from martinaise, to give him a better chance at life. Hell do anything, he promises to stop saying shit, he promises to behave. Just get him OUT of there. It feels like there are WAY more stakes, so the emotional payoff is MUCH higher

(If you like cuno of course. Which i do. theres a LOT to unpack regarding that boy.)

Like, seeing him EXCITEDLY skipping to the coupris kineema and opening the door to the other cops?? It feels good!!!! It feels really good! Like on top of everything you did, you also got to take this kid out of that shithole, to give him a chance.

You Must Understand.

Cuno mirrors Harry in MANY ways.

Nobody respects Harry, nobody respects cuno either. Harrys just some insane alcoholic, cunos just a delinquent kid. Neither are considered particularly trustworthy by the people who interact with them in daily life. HOWEVER. cuno has the spark and excitement harry lacks when harry lets him come along. he has hope. he wants to help, he wants to participate even if he doesn't quite know what he's doing. Why? Because if you got him in your party in the first place, it means he feels comfortable around you! For real, when you get that kid to respect YOU he REALLY starts trusting and looking up to you. He's ride or die. For hells sake he chooses HARRY over cunoesse! You don't belittle him and his interests like Cunoesse does! He gets to be unashamedly himself! Plus you're HIS pig. He already very much has a cop/detective fixation and during the entire time he's around harry he's absolutely PUMPED to be solving the crime with him and he's more than willing to help you out and give his two cents on the matter even if he doesn't really know anything about anything.

And so WHAT if he's just some kid? So what if he's POOR and doesn't have a camera to photograph the phasmid? He talks about harry a LOT more than kim does and with awe in his voice. He defends harry until the fucking end and he does NOT stop. He literally doesn't shut up. he just keeps fucking GOING. He blurts stuff out to defend you even if it's not helpful because he respects harry!!! truly respects him! he WANTS to help. he'll say stuff even if his words fail to convey properly what he means.

And then what?? You do the same for him. Well, youre giving me a chance right? Then take the kid along, he helped. He has nothing, his dad is a wasted dying drunkard (like me) and hes poor (like me). But he did good (i did too). He has potential (do do i). Hell behave (i'm trying to behave). Hell be a good detective (like me. he's just like me). PLEASE take him in (you're giving me a second chance, give him one too).

I Need you to understand. In my playthrough i got harry talking about how he feels like he had children at home when he's asked if he has a family. He feels like he has children, daughters. But alas. You're hit at the end of the game with Dora's 'i terminated our pregnancy because youre poor.' I get a feel that he WANTED to be a father. He wanted a family, but he was just So Fucking Mentally Ill about Everything it never came to be.

But honestly? He'd be an alright mentor figure. He clearly enjoys older kids, despite what he says about not being good with kids. He was a high school teacher! He's Clearly used to dealing with older kids and delinquents and he can talk to them like an equal, if he wants to, he can crack them too! He can be understanding.

And so what? Hell never have Dora's kids, but then he, harry (the drunken cunt) (the cunt everybody hates) (the fucking asshole), can be nice to this delinquent addict child a bunch of times (a foul mouthed jackass) (everybody Loathes that kid) (he doesnt know love) and then said kid starts following him like a lost puppy the moment harry needs company THE MOST. He accepts The Cuno. They have each other's back. They don't give up on each other. They want life to change for the better. Yknow???????

Cuno's ending hits muuuuch harder because of all that. Anyways. Yeah. rant over

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! OOOHHH imagine another man getting touchy with the wife during soccer practice, and Miguel beats the living shit out of him lmao

👀👀

Miguel wasn't a violent man, but lately the subject before him was tearing his calm strings almost on purpose. You remained curt and polite towards him, avoiding as much small talk as possible with him, even made sure to show him that no man could actually compete against Miguel.

"Just ignore him" You had said to an apparently calm and serene Miguel that kept giving cold and warning glances at him.

The kids were away, doing a small routine and pre-work out before actually starting the game. Some of the parents took a turn into bringing the kids foods and snacks for later. It was your turn. You were unpacking the beverages in the cooler as Miguel was setting up the table with some lunchables and other baked goods you had prepared. Benjamin was spending a day with Peter and Mayday.

"I'll get the ice." The Parking lot was a few meters away from the field, away from the parents. You took the car's keys and walked over the trunk to get a few packages of ice.

"You need help?" The too familiar and raspy voice made you flinch in uncomfortableness.

"No, Thanks." Your voice was firm, the man, your allegedly fan, was a relative of Victor's dad. A cousin of the sorts. Despite having the previous clash, you somehow had worked it out just for the sake of Gabriela and the team. Still, you all kept your distance from each other to avoid any unnecessary interaction. Until, Alonzo, your fan approached.

"Ah, c'mon preciosa, those bags look heavy."

"Not your business anyways. Kindly, go away, you're making me uncomfortable."

Alonzo held his hands in defense, but your anger made one of the bags to slip and fall from your hands. Alonzo took the bag and touched your shoulder firmly

"Don't you fucking touch me! " You seethed loud enough as you flinched.

"Ay, corazón. You should be grateful that I'm helping you here. Look at the mess you're-"

A loud smack connected to his jaw, doubling him in pain as he stumbled on his feet. Alonzo struggled to keep on his feet as he fell on the floor.

"Como vuelvas a tocar a mi esposa, te rompo más que la puta cara, cabrón!" (If you ever touch my wife again, I'll not only fuck up your fucking face, dipshit.)

He growled as your eyes widened in shock. Some parents had witnessed the whole thing, some approached, Victor's dad included.

The kids were still in their practice, oblivious to the small fight that had broke out.

Alonzo was taken out of the field as Victor's dsd apologized, shame in his face. Alonzo still had the guts to actually threaten Miguel between broken mumbles.

The once familiar ambience dissipated, leaving a tense and awkward energy to linger. It had also been a shock to you, it was the first time in actually seeing Miguel so angry that he went physical on someone.

You remained quiet as you patched his swollen knuckles.

"You ok?" Despite him being the injured one, he asked for your well-being.

"Yeah. just... Let's forget it." your tone meek, as you gently applied ice on his hand.

[phas3d]

You Kill Someone || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst, comfort?

tw/cw :: murder

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore note, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: they find out that you've killed someone on accident in the past and you deeply regret it - heavy inspo from "Deadly Class" aka the show Mattheo is in and omg Marcus and Mattheo are SOOO different but whatever - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY

You would have told him on your own accord, but he could tell you were hiding something

Went through your stuff and pieced together all of the evidence

He even found out the time, date, and weapon from the murder

When he confronts you about, he's shouting at you about how you broke his trust by not telling him

You tell him how you wanted to tell him, but wasn't able to due to fear

After all, you're the only student in your entire school who has a kill count

He'll be scared of you, which was weird to you at first since he's seen death before from his father and mother coming home bloody at times

But it was awful to him, because you were his safe space but even YOU killed someone

Takes him a while to come around to you, he's really distressed over it

You make an effort to show you still care for him and that you never once lied to him, you simply just hid a secret

The best way to win him back is to be completely honest about your kill and reassure him that you're not that kind of person anymore

TOM RIDDLE

He already knew before you started dating

Because there's no way that Tom DOESN'T research the shit out of his crush and future lover

When you open up to him about your murder, he doesn't seem phased at all

If anything, he's proud and your murder is what drove him further into liking you

Because you hid your kill so well and blended perfectly into the crowd

Although you deeply regret your kill, Tom sees this as a temporary fear

He plans to make you a weapon for him, someone who can kill alongside him and not be a damsel in distress

He'll assure you that your kill was justified, and try to get you used to killing

He reminds you constantly that your past doesn't make him love you any less, it makes him love you more

Definitely does some manipulating to get you to kill something else, like animals, so you can start to go down the same path as him

Pretends to comfort you and coddle you when you're distraught about your kill

But he's going to manipulate your wand and make you kill another animal to get you used to it

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Growing up as the son of Voldemort has obviously led him to see a lot of shit as a child

He's used to death, he's met thousands of killers, and he's even killed a few people

Of course he regretted it, but his father trained him better and he learned to move on from those deaths and become a normal kid

He does his best to get away from death eaters and escape that old lifestyle

He wants to shield you and your future from it at all costs, not wanting his children to go through the same trauma and pain

But when you confess that you killed someone before, he's in pain

He feels deep regret since he couldn't protect you from killing and even more pain from that fact that you hid it for so long

He forgives you much sooner than anyone else on the list, but he just needs help from the trauma you just unpacked for him

Your relationship goes back to normal within a month or two, and he's able to feel even closer to you since this all led to him opening up a lot more about his past and how he was raised

He comforts you a lot about your murder since he knows how hard it can be to carry all of that on your shoulders

Makes sure to distracts you often and defend you against your inner thoughts

THEODORE NOTT

His father was a death-eater, a good one too, so he was used to his father coming home bragging about this kills

But he saw how much this upset his mother, and being a mommy's boy, he sided with his mother and asked his father to stop killing people

When you confess that you've killed someone, he's in denial and thinks you're just making some fucked up joke

But you keep saying you have, and he knows you're not joking anymore

He needs to sit down and take a deep breathe, because no way you did that

He was scared at first that you would be proud of this kill, but when you start venting about how guilty you feel, he's happy that you still have a soul

He'll comfort you and reassure you, hugging you tight and combing your hair with his fingers

Surprisingly, he's the only one that's not super scared of you as he understands you and has extreme trust in you

The only thing he's scared of is you possibly being caught and getting sent to jail

He remind you constantly that he's forever on your side and that no matter what, he'll take the blame

If the police ever come back and question you, he's defending you with his life

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Fucking mortified, scared, shitting his pants, a major pussy when you confess this to him

He grew up with Draco's family, but even back then he was terrified when they would admit to their killings and awful deeds

He's rapid firing questions to you, like who did you kill? why did you kill? do you regret it? did you say sorry to the family?

When you answer all of those, he feels awful and an extreme amount of guilt

Although he's a Slytherin and used people, even murder is far beyond his imagination

You say that you feel awfully guilty but you've never been able to face the family of the guy you killed due to fear of how they would react

Lorenzo helps you to get inner peace, he brings you to the guy's grave at night and the two of you decorate him in flowers, leaving a small card for the family to find when they visit him again

Whenever you get flashbacks or guilt, he's always there to comfort you

Very accepting of you and continues your relationship like normal

If he ever got questioned about your murder, he would play innocent and act dumb to protect you

thank you for the support ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

[fuctacles]

<<4 | 5 | 6>>

Eddie held back and was nice enough to give him an ice pack after. 

"Thank you," Steve murmurs, placing the frozen peas on his chin. He's not taking his eyes off Eddie, who's wired up and walking back and forth in the tiny kitchen. Steve is low-key expecting another hit. If he had his tail, it would be tucked between his legs. 

"Why?" Eddie finally asks, the first thing he says since the punch. But before he can get an answer, he follows with: "Does everyone else know?"

"Yes," Steve admits guiltily. "I didn't want to drop it on you right after the Upside Down, but the longer it took, the weirder it got, and I just..." he trails off with half a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs, sending him a glare while his strides pick up speed. It would look ridiculous, since it takes only three of his steps to walk through the kitchen, if it wasn't so serious. 

"You made it weirder alright. Why did you follow me around instead of hanging out like a normal human being?!" He throws his arms wildly around, almost hitting the fridge. "Or did you just want to keep tabs on me? Like a weird little dog-stalker?!"

"No!" Steve protests indignantly, but then falters. "Well, I— Kind of? But just to, you know, protect you."

Eddie finally stops. Which is not a good sign as far as Steve is concerned, but Eddie just stares at him. 

He recounts the run-ins they had with the local righteous mob. He reimagines them with Steve by his side instead, the human one, and there's no universe in which it doesn't end up with an escalation. People don't normally pick up fights with dogs, apparently. But...

"Was sleeping on my couch and eating my hot dogs also to protect me?"

Steve folds in on himself and Eddie can almost imagine his sad dog ears flopping down. 

"No, I just—"

Eddie's suddenly in his line of vision, squatting in front of him to peer into his face mockingly.

"Was it just for fun? Little doggy wanted belly rubs and treats? Make everyone look at me weird because I'm scratching Steve Harrington between his ears?" he scoffs. "And dude, I would do all of it, if I knew it was you. You were worried it would be too much for me after Vecna? I'm a nerd! I eat that shit up. Do you know how much better I'd feel knowing werewolves are real?!"

Steve is not even surprised at his outburst. He just shuffles his legs and corrects softly:

"Lykans."

Eddie jumps up, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, now you're gonna tell me?! You lost your naming privileges, man, you're a werewolf, period."

He leans against the cupboards behind him, foot tapping restlessly. But he was angry at so many things at once, that he didn't know what to grasp first.

"Why did you avoid me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Eddie interrupts him. "I never saw you around, only the dog. And then you started avoiding everyone else too. Why?"

Steve sighs, slipping the half-thawed pack of peas away from his face. His body slumps like any traces of fight have just left him.

"I guess it was easier. I could just walk around, keep an eye on everyone, and not... explain myself."

"Can't lie without vocal chords, huh?"

Steve sends him a tired look, and Eddie feels the tiniest of bits bad. He raises his hands placatingly. 

"I'm not your therapist. But I thought I was your friend."

"You are! Just..."

"Just not good enough to share the truth with?" Eddie offers.

Steve groans, this time unfolding to fall against the chair's backrest. 

"See, this is why I prefer shifting. I don't have to explain my thoughts to others, nothing is weird and unspoken, and everyone fucking loves me. They pet me and tell me nice things. But when I'm a human, I'm getting laughed at, dumped, used for rides, and have to stay alone in a big empty house."

Eddie just blinks at him, his anger slowly shifting into concern. 

"That's uh, a lot to unpack there," he says gently, pursing his lips in thought. "You know we've been worried about you, right? That we don't see you anymore. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but the kids knew something was going on with you."

Steve scoffs.

"Yeah, they noticed when they had to go beg Nancy for rides."

"Dude." Eddie frowns at him, both irritated and concerned. "I am so tempted to get your other cheek right now. Didn't Dustin call you to clear the air between us?"

"Yes, because you called him first," Steve reminds him. 

"Still, he could have left it for us to deal with on our own. But he cares, so he reached out. " Eddie sighs. "He wants us to be friends, but most of all, he wants you to open up; not to me, but to the rest of the party. So why are you holing yourself up, man? What's wrong?"

Steve doesn't move from his semi-open position, but he crosses his arms, and he's looking away at Wayne's cap collection, visible through the open space to his right. 

Eddie just looks at him, the worry in his stomach growing like a parasite. He decides that maybe this is enough for today. Enough feelings, talking, and confessions. That it is time to clear the air.

And by 'clear' he means 'cloud it with smoke'.

"Let's put a pin on that," he says and finally, Steve looks back at him, both worried and curious. "I think we both need to chill out and I still have that weed stored away for you. And a really bad horror from Gareth. The blood looks like ketchup, you're gonna love it."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86