#slay but not yourself my guy

[stephicness]

An Eikon. A legend.

[pavlovers]

actually nvm im not emo anymore 🤧

[sweet-child-of-night]

I am dead if you even care

[lonesomedotmp3]

also I got and essay back and she was like try to speak to me in my office hours I think you can do better! and I was like oh fuck. and then I actually read it and saw it was a 68 and was fully about to skip off into the sunset going YIPPEE!! oh how the mighty have fallen etcetera

[fbfh]

Hi! How have you been? I was just wondering if you’ve seen the new Wednesday show on Netflix and if so, What do you think of it?

~Love, Evie

EVIE MY BELOVED!!!!!!!! I have not seen it yet but I'm planning to at some point soon!!!!!!! I'm very excited to check it out and I'll update when I do!!!! <333

Also I'm doing okay!! Going through it a little more than usual but it's all working out yk. How are you??? I hope you're doing good and enjoying the holiday season babes!!!!! <333

[biscuitsnbee]

Inara Starlight’s past selves! She looked very different when she was younger…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting a book to end enshittification, because Amazon will not carry it

My next book is The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation: it’s a Big Tech disassembly manual that explains how to disenshittify the web and bring back the old good internet. The hardcover comes from Verso on Sept 5, but the audiobook comes from me — because Amazon refuses to sell my audio:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

Amazon owns Audible, the monopoly audiobook platform that controls >90% of the audio market. They require mandatory DRM for every book sold, locking those books forever to Amazon’s monopoly platform. If you break up with Amazon, you have to throw away your entire audiobook library.

That’s a hell of a lot of leverage to hand to any company, let alone a rapacious monopoly that ran a program targeting small publishers called “Project Gazelle,” where execs were ordered to attack indie publishers “the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”:

https://www.businessinsider.com/sadistic-amazon-treated-book-sellers-the-way-a-cheetah-would-pursue-a-sickly-gazelle-2013-10

[Image ID: Journalist and novelist Doctorow (Red Team Blues) details a plan for how to break up Big Tech in this impassioned and perceptive manifesto….Doctorow’s sense of urgency is contagious -Publishers Weekly]

I won’t sell my work with DRM, because DRM is key to the enshittification of the internet. Enshittification is why the old, good internet died and became “five giant websites filled with screenshots of the other four” (h/t Tom Eastman). When a tech company can lock in its users and suppliers, it can drain value from both sides, using DRM and other lock-in gimmicks to keep their business even as they grow ever more miserable on the platform.

Here is how platforms die: first, they are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

[Image ID: A brilliant barn burner of a book. Cory is one of the sharpest tech critics, and he shows with fierce clarity how our computational future could be otherwise -Kate Crawford, author of The Atlas of AI”]

The Internet Con isn’t just an analysis of where enshittification comes from: it’s a detailed, shovel-ready policy prescription for halting enshittification, throwing it into reverse and bringing back the old, good internet.

How do we do that? With interoperability: the ability to plug new technology into those crapulent, decaying platform. Interop lets you choose which parts of the service you want and block the parts you don’t (think of how an adblocker lets you take the take-it-or-leave “offer” from a website and reply with “How about nah?”):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

But interop isn’t just about making platforms less terrible — it’s an explosive charge that demolishes walled gardens. With interop, you can leave a social media service, but keep talking to the people who stay. With interop, you can leave your mobile platform, but bring your apps and media with you to a rival’s service. With interop, you can break up with Amazon, and still keep your audiobooks.

So, if interop is so great, why isn’t it everywhere?

Well, it used to be. Interop is how Microsoft became the dominant operating system:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

[Image ID: Nobody gets the internet-both the nuts and bolts that make it hum and the laws that shaped it into the mess it is-quite like Cory, and no one’s better qualified to deliver us a user manual for fixing it. That’s The Internet Con: a rousing, imaginative, and accessible treatise for correcting our curdled online world. If you care about the internet, get ready to dedicate yourself to making interoperability a reality. -Brian Merchant, author of Blood in the Machine]

It’s how Apple saved itself from Microsoft’s vicious campaign to destroy it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

Every tech giant used interop to grow, and then every tech giant promptly turned around and attacked interoperators. Every pirate wants to be an admiral. When Big Tech did it, that was progress; when you do it back to Big Tech, that’s piracy. The tech giants used their monopoly power to make interop without permission illegal, creating a kind of “felony contempt of business model” (h/t Jay Freeman).

The Internet Con describes how this came to pass, but, more importantly, it tells us how to fix it. It lays out how we can combine different kinds of interop requirements (like the EU’s Digital Markets Act and Massachusetts’s Right to Repair law) with protections for reverse-engineering and other guerrilla tactics to create a system that is strong without being brittle, hard to cheat on and easy to enforce.

What’s more, this book explains how to get these policies: what existing legislative, regulatory and judicial powers can be invoked to make them a reality. Because we are living through the Great Enshittification, and crises erupt every ten seconds, and when those crises occur, the “good ideas lying around” can move from the fringes to the center in an eyeblink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/12/only-a-crisis/#lets-gooooo

[Image ID: Thoughtfully written and patiently presented, The Internet Con explains how the promise of a free and open internet was lost to predatory business practices and the rush to commodify every aspect of our lives. An essential read for anyone that wants to understand how we lost control of our digital spaces and infrastructure to Silicon Valley’s tech giants, and how we can start fighting to get it back. -Tim Maughan, author of INFINITE DETAIL]

After all, we’ve known Big Tech was rotten for years, but we had no idea what to do about it. Every time a Big Tech colossus did something ghastly to millions or billions of people, we tried to fix the tech company. There’s no fixing the tech companies. They need to burn. The way to make users safe from Big Tech predators isn’t to make those predators behave better — it’s to evacuate those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/18/urban-wildlife-interface/#combustible-walled-gardens

I’ve been campaigning for human rights in the digital world for more than 20 years; I’ve been EFF’s European Director, representing the public interest at the EU, the UN, Westminster, Ottawa and DC. This is the subject I’ve devoted my life to, and I live my principles. I won’t let my books be sold with DRM, which means that Audible won’t carry my audiobooks. My agent tells me that this decision has cost me enough money to pay off my mortgage and put my kid through college. That’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means that my books aren’t enshittification bait.

But not selling on Audible has another cost, one that’s more important to me: a lot of readers prefer audiobooks and 9 out of 10 of those readers start and end their searches on Audible. When they don’t find an author there, they assume no audiobook exists, period. It got so bad I put up an audiobook on Amazon — me, reading an essay, explaining how Audible rips off writers and readers. It’s called “Why None of My Audiobooks Are For Sale on Audible”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

[Image ID: Doctorow has been thinking longer and smarter than anyone else I know about how we create and exchange value in a digital age. -Douglas Rushkoff, author of Present Shock]

To get my audiobooks into readers’ ears, I pre-sell them on Kickstarter. This has been wildly successful, both financially and as a means of getting other prominent authors to break up with Amazon and use crowdfunding to fill the gap. Writers like Brandon Sanderson are doing heroic work, smashing Amazon’s monopoly:

https://www.brandonsanderson.com/guest-editorial-cory-doctorow-is-a-bestselling-author-but-audible-wont-carry-his-audiobooks/

And to be frank, I love audiobooks, too. I swim every day as physio for a chronic pain condition, and I listen to 2–3 books/month on my underwater MP3 player, disappearing into an imaginary world as I scull back and forth in my public pool. I’m able to get those audiobooks on my MP3 player thanks to Libro.fm, a DRM-free store that supports indie booksellers all over the world:

https://blog.libro.fm/a-qa-with-mark-pearson-libro-fm-ceo-and-co-founder/

Producing my own audiobooks has been a dream. Working with Skyboat Media, I’ve gotten narrators like @wilwheaton​, Amber Benson, @neil-gaiman​ and Stefan Rudnicki for my work:

https://craphound.com/shop/

[Image ID: “This book is the instruction manual Big Tech doesn’t want you to read. It deconstructs their crummy products, undemocratic business models, rigged legal regimes, and lies. Crack this book and help build something better. -Astra Taylor, author of Democracy May Not Exist, but We’ll Miss It When Its Gone”]

But for this title, I decided that I would read it myself. After all, I’ve been podcasting since 2006, reading my own work aloud every week or so, even as I traveled the world and gave thousands of speeches about the subject of this book. I was excited (and a little trepedatious) at the prospect, but how could I pass up a chance to work with director Gabrielle de Cuir, who has directed everyone from Anne Hathaway to LeVar Burton to Eric Idle?

Reader, I fucking nailed it. I went back to those daily recordings fully prepared to hate them, but they were good — even great (especially after my engineer John Taylor Williams mastered them). Listen for yourself!

https://archive.org/details/cory_doctorow_internet_con_chapter_01

I hope you’ll consider backing this Kickstarter. If you’ve ever read my free, open access, CC-licensed blog posts and novels, or listened to my podcasts, or come to one of my talks and wished there was a way to say thank you, this is it. These crowdfunders make my DRM-free publishing program viable, even as audiobooks grow more central to a writer’s income and even as a single company takes over nearly the entire audiobook market.

Backers can choose from the DRM-free audiobook, DRM-free ebook (EPUB and MOBI) and a hardcover — including a signed, personalized option, fulfilled through the great LA indie bookstore Book Soup:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

What’s more, these ebooks and audiobooks are unlike any you’ll get anywhere else because they are sold without any terms of service or license agreements. As has been the case since time immemorial, when you buy these books, they’re yours, and you are allowed to do anything with them that copyright law permits — give them away, lend them to friends, or simply read them with any technology you choose.

As with my previous Kickstarters, backers can get their audiobooks delivered with an app (from libro.fm) or as a folder of MP3s. That helps people who struggle with “sideloading,” a process that Apple and Google have made progressively harder, even as they force audiobook and ebook sellers to hand over a 30% app tax on every dollar they make:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

Enshittification is rotting every layer of the tech stack: mobile, payments, hosting, social, delivery, playback. Every tech company is pulling the rug out from under us, using the chokepoints they built between audiences and speakers, artists and fans, to pick all of our pockets.

The Internet Con isn’t just a lament for the internet we lost — it’s a plan to get it back. I hope you’ll get a copy and share it with the people you love, even as the tech platforms choke off your communities to pad their quarterly numbers.

Next weekend (Aug 4-6), I'll be in Austin for Armadillocon, a science fiction convention, where I'm the Guest of Honor:

https://armadillocon.org/d45/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/31/seize-the-means-of-computation/#the-internet-con

[Image ID: My forthcoming book 'The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation' in various editions: Verso hardcover, audiobook displayed on a phone, and ebook displayed on an e-ink reader.]

[omgeto]

☆ SNEAKY LINK — dad's best friend!TOJI FUSHIGURO

summary: your dad didn't even need to tell you that his best friend was off limits, but you just couldn't help yourself. and on another visit home from university, he's the first person you get your hands on.

wc: 4.2k. (major slay from me)

cw: afab!reader, semi public sex, you fuck in a car, outside, he fingers you at the table, and eats you out in your childhood room <33 slight breeding kink, + your dad is clueless poor man so MDNI

an: was s'posed to write this yesterday but it didn't show up in the tags, so hopefully you guys can see this now and give it some love. never really done long smut before so give it a chance people!! fanks @kazushawty for beta'ing some, this is for you

there was always something about your dad’s best friend, toji fushiguro, that you just couldn’t ignore. your dad had loads of friends throughout the years, and you never batted an eyelid. so when your dad brought toji to dinner for the first time, you couldn’t just disregard the way he looked, more importantly how he looked at you—making you end up sucking his dick in the bathroom of your family home, before dessert was even served.

you were away at university, making your little ‘relationship’ with toji a fleeting one, but best believe whenever you touched your home city, toji always found a way to touch you. “so you manage to find y’self a boyfriend, up at that fancy uni of yours?” toji asks, a sly grin playing on his lips, as he starts the car, pulling out of the train station parking lot.

“no, none of them are to my taste,” you respond shortly, trying to keep your composure, and maintain your focus on anything but him. you knew why he was asking, just so he could feel his pride swell when you say no. since he was always quick to remind you whenever you fucked that after being with him you woulnd’t want a dumb little college boy—and he was right.

“aww that's too bad,” he mocks, his hand easing its way onto your thigh as if it’s nothing, “a pretty thing like you, should be basking in boys.��� you roll your eyes at his teasing, but you can’t ignore the slight quickening of your heart as his hand gives your thigh a light squeeze.

you both pretend as if you aren’t fucking eachother anytime your dad was around, it was easier to keep up the facade that way. neither of you wanted to hurt your dad, toji actually enjoyed his friendship and would never want to hurt his ‘oh so precious daughter.’’ but when he pictures how your tits bounce and how your ass shakes whenever he drives his dick into you, he was okay with losing a friendship if that meant he could continue to fuck you.

the rest of the ride was a comfortable silence, there was no more small talk, just the faded hum of the radio and your thoughts racing as toji’s hand remains on you. you were finally parked in the driveway of your home, “thanks for the ride home fushiguro,” you mumble, ready to leave his car. 

“fushiguro? were you not calling me toji last time you saw me?” he questions puzzled, his hand laying on your arm — stopping you from exiting the car, as his mouth comes up to your ear, “ whilst i was stuffing you full with my dick?”

“can we not do this here?” you grit out, trying not to react to the feeling of his touch, you look around the driveway and see your dads car parked right in front of toji’s. “my dad’s home.”

“so?” he shrugs, tugging against your clothes, “c’mon you know you wanna give me a little something before i leave.” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be fucking your dad’s oldest friend — especially not when he’s only ten metres away. but the look that toji gives you, the lustful glint in his eyes, and the way his thick fingers toy with the hem of your jeans, you just couldn’t say no.

“make it quick,” you whisper, looking around your surroundings before pouncing on toji. the windows of his car weren’t tinted, but your neighbourhood is a quiet one, so as long he fucked you swiftly, you shouldn’t get caught.

“i don’t know why you’ve got this pouty look on your face,” he smirks, watching as you eagerly get yourself out of jeans, not fully, but just enough so that you could slide right onto his dick. “you want this just as bad as i do, don’t you?”

you didn’t bother responding, letting the way your pussy clenches around his throbbing member, be the answer to his question. there's a shared moan between you, with toji throwing his head back onto the headrest as he watches you ride him. his hands grip onto your ass, aiding you in bouncing up and down on his dick.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, his hand moving up off of your ass to lightly grip your chin as he directs your mouth to his. he kisses you sensually, the slow pace matching the rhythm of your ass grinding against him. your arms snake their way around his neck, your hands stroking the hair that falls just above his nape. 

“f-fuck,” you moan against his mouth, your boobs press against his chest as he thrust into you deeper. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing your increasing screams, as his hips dig into your ass further. 

“y’better quiet down princess,” he mocks, pressing a quick peck to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he watches you chase his mouth, whimpering to have more of him. “you don’t want your daddy to hear us and come outside d’ya?”

“‘don’t care,” you whine, rutting your hips down against him, wanting him to stuff you full, to fuck you hard, not caring about who hears or sees you.

“oh you don’t care do you?” he continues to taunt, his fingers roaming across your chest — toying with the buttons of your shirt. and as you nod to his question, your pussy clenching down around his dick achingly, he grins, “get out of the car.”

“what?” you pause, trying to register if you’ve heard him correctly.

“you heard me,” he shrugs, his hands going to your hips to take you off your dick, “get out of the car, and lean right up against the hood for me.”

“you’re joking right?” you scoff, staring at him in shock, but his gaze is locked with yours without faltering, oh he was serious alright. “but what about my da—”

“what about him? you didn’t care about him seeing us a second again when you were slutting yourself out on my dick did you,” he continues to taunt, his thumb rubbing against your aching clit, toying with the folds of your soaking pussy — persuading you. “now i'm not gonna tell you again, get rid of the jeans fully and lean against the hood of my car.” 

he didn’t have to say anything else after that, the way he was playing with your pussy reminded you of what need. so you quickly get rid of your jeans, and get out of his car, a giggle escaping your lips as toji’s hand collides with your ass. 

you lean against the hood of his car, your arms stretching against it in excitement as toji comes behind you, palming your ass before stroking the slit of your pussy with his dick. he doesn’t even give you time to breathe before shoving himself back inside of you. his hand coming to the back of your neck to push you down, as he charges his dick back inside of you. 

“you like that?” he grins, as he drives into you deeper, the squelching of your dripping pussy around his dick, music to his ears. you nod, eagerly, too dick drunk to formulate a sentence —content in just rocking your ass back against his hips ready for him to cum inside of you.

“t-toji ‘m so close,” you whine, begging for that final push so you could reach your peak, “please j-just let me cum, i-i need to cum.”

“i’ll let you cu—”

“toji buddy! is that you?” you both pause, frozen in place as you hear your dads voice from the inside. you scramble apart from one another, toji pushing you off his dick and zipping up his pants, trying to regain his composure as he catches his breath. you dive back into your seats, aggressively shimmying into your jeans, panicked. ‘fuck toji for making me take these all the way off,’ you think to yourself, as you awkwardly pull your jeans up. you check the rear view mirror, to try and not look freshly fucked as your father nears the car.

“dad!” you exclaim, giving your father a hug and sending a quit look to toji that reads ‘shut the fuck up.’ your dad returns your hug with a tight squeeze.

“hey sweetheart, was toji here giving you a ride from the station?” he asks, a joyful smile on his face

“yeah i was giving her a ride alright,” toji mutters, his innuendo going straight over your fathers head as he looks back and forth between you, clueless. “she was showing me all the new things she’s learnt at uni, and boy has your daughter learnt a lot.” he flashes you a wink, that your dad misses, and you quickly glare at him in response.

“oh she’s a smart one isn’t she?” you dad boasts, practically parading you off and toji nods in response thinking to himself, ‘if only you could see how dumb she gets filled with my cum.’ 

you swiftly exit the space between your father and his friend, hoping that toji just leaves, although you didn’t get to finish, nearly being caught by your dad, panicked you. you give toji a brisk nod as a goodbye, as you grab your bags out of the car but you pause as you hear your dad ask him, “so, are you staying for dinner?” it was going to be a long night.

you spent the rest of the evening avoiding both your dad and toji, you couldn’t trust yourself to be around both of them without letting something slip. toji had just as much to lose, if your dad did find out about your activities, but that didn’t stop him from giving sly comments and looks just to see your scared, flushed face whenever you thought he was going to say something about it. 

when dinner starts you knew you were going to fold, fast. toji was sitting next to you, but his gaze was fixed on you with a teasing glint in his eyes. his mouth drops to your ear as he whispers, “doesn’t this remind you of when we first met? you teasing me all night before dropping on your knees for me in the bathroom upstairs.”

“what are you two gossiping about over there?” your dad asks as he enters the room with your food, and you immediately tense up hearing his voice, shifting away from toji to not give yourself away.

“oh i was just reminding her about when we first met at dinner all those years ago,” toji responded quickly, his composure kept cool as if he wasn’t just talking about you sucking his dick minutes ago. “a lot has changed since then.”

“yeah, my baby has really grown up and matured since then, haven't you?” your dad coos at you and you give toji a subtle elbow to his stomach under the table. but toji just can’t let up, enjoying your jumpy vibe a bit too much.

he nods in agreement with your dad, “yeah she’s really become a woman, right under our eyes.” he taunts, and only you knew that he was referring to how he felt that your body was built just for him. toji loved every inch of you, your face, tits and ass was a complete package that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

unbeknownst to your dad, toji’s hand slips underneath the table and right into your pants. your eyes cut towards his, and he the subtle raise of his eyebrow tells you he’s not gonna stop —and you weren’t planning on trying to stop him. 

you open your legs wider, to grant him further access, smiling along at your dad as he cluelessly babbles on to the both of you. toji was both attentive to the conversation and to your pussy. to anyone else it wouldn’t look like his fingers were curling up inside of you, your cunt coating his fingers as he slowly drives them into you.

as dinner continues, your hands remain clenched on your cutlery as you try and distract yourself from the growing feeling you were getting as toji rubs your pussy. he was casual about it too, laughing and joking with your dad as if his fingers weren’t getting drenched.

you were trying so hard to not ride his fingers in your seat, to not let your father see you getting slutted out by his best friend right in front of him. the thickness of his fingers were stretching your pussy wider, and his pace was achingly slow, to sensual for the burning desire you’ve been craving for him all day. but there is nothing you can do, and toji knew tha. the slight smirk on his face and spark in his eye was telling to the fact that he was aware of how badly you need him, and was amused by the needy little look on your face that you poorly try to mask.

“so how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asks you, his question snapping you out of your dazed state. you choke slightly on your drink since you didn’t actually have a boyfriend but you couldn’t exactly tell him about the special guy you are seeing.

“h-he’s…great,” you respond, your voice faltering as you could feel toji’s eyes burning a hole in your head. his fingers pinch against your clit, punishingly and your eyes bounce between your father and him.

“we should have him over for dinner soon,” your dad suggests excitedly, “so we can all meet him.”

“yeah sure dad,” you lie, hoping that is enough to appease your father. but it definitely didn’t appease toji, he swiftly removes his fingers out of your pants, and he sends your a glare when your father wasn’t looking before going back to eating his food—with both hands.

dinner was a silent affair after that exchange, there were no more subtle sly comments from toji and your dad had worn out all the possible stories he could share about you. so you finish your meal in silence, your pussy still throbbing hard.

“that was a great meal as always,” toji compliments your dad, getting up out of his seat, “do you mind if i use the bathroom real quick before i head home?”

“yeah my home’s your home, do as you please,” your dad grins at him, “i’m gonna go and do these dishes, it was good seeing you,” your dad presses a kiss to your head and gives toji a handshake before heading to the kitchen.

with your dad now out of sight you could now see toji’s face and he was tense, to say the least. he was standing in the threshold of the door and all it took was the raising of his eyebrows and a shake of his head for you to know that he wanted your ass upstairs with him quick.

he led you to your childhood bedroom and he was already toying with the posters of random anime that you had plastered all over your walls, “cute.”

“toji i thought we agreed to not do this in the house anymore?” is the first thing you ask. after you first met and made a mess of your household bathroom, you both agreed that it would be easier if you just didn’t fuck in your house anymore to save the chance of your dad catching on. but it seems after today, toji couldn’t care less.

“a boyfriend huh,” he spits out with a bitter chuckle, turning to look at you, “what happened to ‘none of those boys are to my taste.’” 

“they aren’t,” you persist, folding your arms childishly as you try and get your point across. he doesn’t even respond, just raising his eyebrow at you in disbelief, thinking about your conversation with your father. “do you really think i could tell my dad about the real guy i’ve been fucking all this time? ”

he shrugs in response, his anger settling a bit in knowing now that you didn't actually have a boyfriend. “i didn’t peg you as a jealous type, in case you forgot, you’re the family friend not my boyfriend. so if i was to actually let one of these college guys date me, that’ll be okay.”

“oh it would be okay would it?” he mocks, stepping closer to you, “so i’m just this family friend, not the guy you slut yourself out for whenever you see me?” you couldn’t deny that, so you remain quiet, your heart pulsing as toji nears you. 

he grabs your hand and shoves it right down his pants so you could feel his throbbing dick, “y’know i’ve been hard for you all day, after your clueless dad had to ruin our fun earlier i’ve bursting to cum,” his dick pulses in your hold, emphasising his point, “and now it turns out that all i am to you is just a family friend, damn.”

“i didn’t mean it in that way,” you say, slightly regretting your choice of words, “i just think it’s a bit silly of you to be getting wound up, at your big age, over some hypothetical boyfriend when all we do is fuck.”

“at my big age? the fuck, im not even that ol—” he stops himself because he knows he could say whole lot that could have you crying quick. “i’m gonna let you have your little outburst here, but i did not drag you upstairs for this.”

“and what did you drag me up here for then?” you quiz, his dick still feeling the warmth of your hand. his arm snakes around your waist as he presses you close, your tits rubbing right against his chest. 

“well y’know i’ve been dying to fuck you in your bedroom,” he murmurs, he leads you over to your bed, chuckling as he pushes you down next to your stuffed animals, and childish shit that you’ve kept. he pulls down your jeans as he kneels down at the edge of your bed, a wide grin etched across his face, “i’ve been wanting to keep you out of these all fucking day,” he says as he flings your jeans across the room. 

“don’t forget your dad’s downstairs and we can’t let him ruin what we’ve got going on can we?” he pulls your down the bed so your pussy’s closer to your face, he snaps off your underwear and peppers a kiss onto your clit. you hiss at the contact of his mouth on you, and his eyes look up at you, “so you can be quiet for me, right?”

you nod eagerly, clenching your eyes as his mouth suctions onto your clit, biting and nibbling at it. you hold your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, already gripping onto his hair to steady yourself. he’s barely done anything yet and he’s already got you losing your mind.

he drags his tongue down your wet slit, lapping up the sweetness from your pussy. you sigh harder, the grip on his hair only getting tighter the more his mouth works on your cunt. toji laughs as he taunts, “‘you’re just a family friend toji,’ yeah seems like it.” 

“s-shut up,” you pant out, clenching your thighs around his head as tongue inches deeper and deeper into your pussy, his nose pushed right into your arousal, breathing in every bit of you. “y-you are just a family friend.”

“whatever,” he smirks, watching as your mouth part as he plunges his fingers into you. he keeps his mouth on your clit, as two of his fingers piston in and out of you. you can’t help but thrust your hips up in his direction, aching to feel him deeper. 

“toji w-what are you—” you start to ask as he pulls his fingers out of you, just before you cum. 

he grins in response, popping one of his fingers in his mouth before saying, “you’re just too sweet y’know? come on taste yourself.” and before you can even respond properly, you were already sucking on his finger, smiling as he coos, “see how tasty you are?” 

he rids himself of his jogging bottoms, his dick springing out of them, hard and throbbing. “my balls have been aching to bust inside of you all day,” he complains, as he mounts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back, your arms snaking behind his neck. “but you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“yeah please toji,” you whine, desperate for him to get his dick inside of your dripping pussy, “cum in me please, i just need you.”

“want me to cum in you yeah?” he smirks, as you shake your head, your hand moving down to his dick but he slaps it away, continuing to tease you, “gonna let me put a baby in you, right?”

“anything you want, just please.” you say, clawing at his back. but that’s all he needs to hear, as he shoves his dick into you with all his force, your eyes widening at the feeling. but as he quickly sets into a rhythm, you can’t help but moan out as his dick drives into you hitting the right spot, every single time.

he puts his mouth on yours to silence you, pecking your lips with kisses as he says, “you know you gotta be quiet for me princess, can’t have your dad hearing how im fucking my kids into you.”

“s-sorry i just c-can’t take it,” you apologise, your eyes rolling back as his lips move down from yours onto your neck. bruising and biting at it, with his teeth.

“oh but you can take it” he praises, “your pussy takes me so well, always such a good girl for me.” he bites back down on your neck harder, as you clench around him, the throbbing of his dick partnered with the gushing tightness of your pussy had him getting sloppier and sloppier with every stroke. 

toji’s hand slaps down on your clit, making you slightly jump up against his dick as it continues to charge into you. he tugs at your clit before swirling it and pressing down on it with his thumb. loving the way you gasp at the contact, scratching at him as your pleasure grows.

“f-fuck toji, please, i need to feel your cum,” you beg, and he presses his forehead against yours, as your hold around his back and neck become stronger. his dick ploughing into you with his unforgiving pace was becoming too much for you to handle, you wanted to feel his load deep inside of you. “lemme have it.”

“i-i’ll give it to you princess dont worry,” he reassures, stammering slightly as he could feel himself going to bust. this was his favourite sight of you, all fucked out under him, your eyes practically springing with tears as you beg him to finish inside you. it was only an added bonus that you were doing this on your fluffy pink sheets, literally right under your dad’s nose. “you’re such a naughty girl for this. what would your dad say if he could see you now?” he continues to tease.

“i don’t care what he’d say. i am a n-naughty girl. i wanna be your naughty girl.”

“yeah you are, you’re absolutely filthy,” he jeers, giving you his last thrusts before saying, “fucking taking in the cum of your dads best friend, begging to bred. not very ladylike if i do say so myself.”

“t-toji please,” you call out, fed up with his teasing. and he laughs before taking your mouth into his biting on your lip hard as he releases into you, plastering your pussy walls with all his cum. you do the same, your cum mixing with his as you release onto his dick. he slumps his body over yours, pressing kisses to your faces, satisfied as he thrusts his dick into you further to try and ensure his cum doesn’t slip out.

“ah, if only i could stay here for the night, i’d keep you plugged up with my cum and really get you pregnant,” he jokes, finally pulling out of you, amazed by how cum of his and yours ran down your thighs and pooled onto your bedsheets. 

“want you to stay,” you mewl, your arm stretching, reaching out for him.

“no can do princess,” he sighs, he actually wants to stay with you too, there’s nothing better then ending the night freshly fucked with his dick cushioned by your pussy all night as he sleeps. he presses a final kiss to your head, and grabs some wipes to get rid off the cum stuck to your legs, before leaving the room as he promises, “next time we’ll do it at my place, yeah?”

AN: So what do you think of dads best friend!toji 🧍🏽‍♀️ this was meant to be apart of a broader part of the sneaky link smut but then a little drabble turned into a full fic. BUT THIS ACTUALLY MADE ME NERVOUS TO POST SINCE IM STILL NOT FEELING MY SMUT SKILLS YET. But it shall come with practice.so yeah lemme know ur thoughts

[astonmartinii]

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

view all comments

user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

view all comments

user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

view all comments

user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

view all comments

user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

view all comments

user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

[oscalesoffeeling]

love being like this. i love my wife.

[beiasluv]

yes, and? | f1 d!lfs

a/n: Ariana popped tf off with that house music, but ngl I have mixed feelings abt her allegations. don’t be a homewrecker bitches 😘

aussiegrit

liked by oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_official and 96,279 others

aussiegrit Ride a Porsche, save a horse…😆 yourinsta

view all 3,627 comments

fernandoalo_official nice caption 🙌🤣

aussiegrit got a smart gal 😊😂

username thatshouldbemeholdjngyourhanddd

username mark and yn are weird. prove me wrong.

username don’t be a hater if she’s having fun

username having sex with someone’s husband is fun?

username ain’t no one saying that yet

username if I see a dilf using the laughing emoji unironically again I will combust

username then I’ve got good news for you..

username ICONIC QUEEN SHITT

username Honestly get that bag gurlll

username Yn is a grown woman, should’ve known not to mingle with an older man

username is it so depressing to see a successful young woman having a fun time?

yourinsta

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 218,718 others

yourinsta ride or die (literally) 😙

view all 35,256 comments

jensonbutton careful love

yourinsta will do 🤭

username hang out with people your age

username stay mad, go touch some grass

landonorris we literally drive fast car for life 💀

yourinsta I KNOW 😭😭

yourinsta when are you visiting 😔

landonorris soonn

username ERM Where.

sebastianvettel glad you had fun schatz

yourinsta anytimee 🫶

username sebastian went skiing and no fucking picture. I’m devastated.

username what exactly are you riding 🤭

username she slayed for that

username DONT TAKE TREACHEROUS ROADS

username DONT MAKE UNNECESSARILY JOURNIES

jensonbutton

liked by yourinsta, aussiegrit, and 122,017 others

jensonbutton off seasonal things 🤣.

view all 28,167 comments

yourinsta slow your horses on drinking mr button

jensonbutton will do love 😉

yourinsta I’ll keep an eye on that.

username taking care of her old man You go girlll

username was this the Santa hat he got from Fernando 😭😭

username it’s also likely that one of them gifted the whiskey as well

username nobody can stop yn and her dilfs on this summer break

username HELL YEAH

username not complaining for the lack of content from the current grid (except Ms gurl herself)

yourinsta

liked by oscarpiastri, mickschumacher and 186,297 others

yourinsta I have no more storage 😔

view all 21,627 comments

sebastianvettel sorry schatz ❤️

yourinsta I maybee forgive you

username grow tf upp

username she got them down bad and you mad??

landonorris why is your phone crustyy

yourinsta I SWEAR IT’S THEMM

yourinsta my selfies ate 🤭

username PERIODDD

username get yourself sweaty old dilfss

jensonbutton deleting is not an option love

aussiegrit buying a new one is

username OH???

username be my sugar daddy please 😩🙏

username Oscar and mick basically cringing at their father figure

username Respect the original rizz gurll

username Sebastian was and still is the original rizz, ask yn 😘

username kimi what are you doing hereeee

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 39,728 others

f1gossips Ricciardo, Vettel, Button, Alonso, and Ln spotted in a holiday in Ibiza, Spain. More attendants to be confirmed.

- admin

view all 2,610 comments

username honestly it’s kinda weird that she keeps on hanging out with the older grid while she is literally a Mercedes driver?

username and what’s wrong with hanging out with people outside the current grid

username idk seems kinda weird to me, older men..

username if she’s getting that bag I respect her cause why tf not?

username homewrecker much?

username desperate much?

username homewrekcerr so coquette 🎀

username you guys don’t get it (I GET HERR)

username Spain… so is Carlos joining??

username and Lando’s comment??

username I swear they need to show tf up

yourinsta

liked by aussiegrit, sebastianvettel and 186,727 others

yourinsta told you my selfies ate 😘

view all 18,017 comments

aussiegrit beautiful sunshine ❤️

yourinsta wish you were heree

aussiegrit I’ll definitely see you soon honey

username never let mark know what a dm is so I can keep reading their texts

username if you look closely into the background you can see me drowning in my tears

username omg same!! twinss

carlossainz55 did you pierced your tongue?

yourinsta no?? why would I do that

username why are they so siblings 😭

sebastianvettel

liked by yourinsta, lance_stroll and 385,167 others

sebastianvettel trip dump or whatever the kids say?

view all 27,526 comments

yourinsta correcto

liked by sebastianvettel

username get away from my mann 😘😘

username ngl you got me in the first half

username can the summer break be longer 😭😩

username I miss the dilf trip already. I have nothing to look forward to anymore

username how to…be…a dog ✍️

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 27,156 others

f1gossips Mark Webber and David Coulhart spotted at the Porsche convention, Melbourne, Australia. Lando Norris confirmed in joining the Ibiza trip last week as seen with a fan at a restaurant

view all 962 comments

username i know exactly what you are doing by putting mark in this

username so was it Mark??? 🤭🤭

username Mark please comeback 😭

username come back the kids miss you 😩

username so was it true that she fucked one of them?

username WHAT? WHO WHERE WHEN

username it was rumor but idk guessed it would’ve spiraled at the trip

username had a feeling that it was Sebastian 🤷‍♀️

username SAMEE TWINSS

yourinsta

liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 426,268 others

yourinsta yes, and?

view all 197,727 comments

username OMF MISS QUEENNN

username QUEEN SHIT BITCH

username ITS CONFIRMEDD

username so can I call her ariana now? 💀💀

yall know the drill, interact if you liked it😘😘 let me know who’s your favorite f1 dilf

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞���𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[sixosix]

INFATUATED | AETHER

i. summary mutual pining but aether is a tease and you're an idiot

ii. tags 1.5k words, aether helplessly in love, reader being dumb and in denial, bff!yoimiya may be ooc and may embarrass you, set in inazuma, fluff & flirting

Aether’s always smiling whenever you see him.

At first, you thought it was because he’s just a happy little guy, always wearing a grin as bright as his hair. Like the sun, and you’re but a flower soaking in his light. But then you hear how people talk about him—

“He’s quite terrifying, isn’t he? Sometimes I get too scared to ask for help…”

“They weren't joking about what they said regarding the Traveler. He looks young and yet has the eyes of a seasoned warrior.”

“Scary. And a bit strange. His eyes are so… blank. It’s like he’s drifting out, and it’s why he has that pixie around to do all the talking.”

—and now, you’re not so sure. The Aether you’ve met is nowhere near the Traveler they keep raving about. Are they dealing with a doppelgänger?

Yoimiya mulls over your words with a thoughtful hum. She loudly sips on her drink. “Hmm, have you ever considered it might be because he’s just happy every time you’re there?”

You scoff, nestling into your chair with crossed arms—to protect yourself from Yoimiya’s wild imagination, no doubt. “That’d be absolutely presumptuous of me to even think about.” Aether? Happy to see you? Absurd.

She tilts her head as if she pities you. “I’m blessed to not have turned out this oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“Listen to me.” She sets her glass down; it rattles the table. The owner casts you both a stern look. “He’s really just infatuated with you. How hard is it to see that?”

Very hard. Yoimiya is reaching. This is one of the truths she’s trying to pursue—except there is no truth here, just plain fantasy. “It doesn’t make sense,” you insist, growing frustrated. “He’s the Traveler, I’m no one important.”

She hums. “I’ll admit no one in Teyvat can compare to the Traveler, but no one else seems to make him happier than you do. Which is why I’m saying that explains why he’s smiling whenever you—”

“Bold assumptions you’re making,” you interrupt quickly.

“Trust me! He liiiiikes you in that way.”

“Why? How do you know that?”

“‘cause,” Yoimiya grins, her eyes sparkling. She’s as excited as she usually is talking about fireworks. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can ask him, if you wanna be sure about it.”

“Please don’t ask him anything weird,” you plead. “He’s met so many people, Yoimiya. Why me? What do I have to offer to the holder of the dragon-defeating, god-slaying, renowned fatui-slaughtering reputation? Nothing!”

“Does he have to be with someone who’s done all of that?” she asks, and your thoughts come to a halt. Does it? No, certainly not—unless that’s what he wants. And that might be what he wants!

“Well,” you clear your throat. “Perhaps, if that’s what makes him happy.” At Yoimiya’s quirked brow, you slouch in defeat, cheeks heating up at even thinking about what Aether’s type is. “You’re enjoying this,” you murmur at the sight of Yoimiya’s conspiratorial grin.

“I’m not, I’ve just never seen you act this shy and cute before! So this is what you’re like when you have a crush?” Over Yoimiya’s shoulder, you spot a familiar pixie and a mop of golden hair from afar, walking over.

Your eyes widen, “I am not acting shy and cute—”

“What’s this? Y/N has a crush!?” Paimon’s shrieky voice is unmistakable. It’s hard to mistake her even if you tried. They’re still a few feet away, but Yoimiya’s voice can be very loud.

“I don’t,” you want to snark, however meeting Aether’s eyes has your voice going quiet. Maybe Yoimiya’s right: you are acting very shy. “Hi, Aether, Paimon.”

“Ooh,” Paimon giggles, kicking her feet. “What were you two talking about, huh? Paimon heard Yoimiya talking about a crush.” Paimon notices your wide-eyed panic. “Oh, Paimon can kick Aether out!”

Exasperated, Aether casts Paimon a look. “Who’s gonna pay for your order?”

Paimon deflates. “W-Well, Paimon can ask Yoimiya—”

“No can do; I spent all Mora on me already.”

“—Then, Paimon will—”

You arch an eyebrow. “I don’t think I can afford your usual orders. Don’t look at me. I’m a starving artist already.”

She huffs. “Fine! Paimon was trying to protect your secret but she guesses that no one’s appreciating it anyway!” Paimon, the only one who’s terrible at keeping secrets, says. She turns to her companion, hands clasped together. “Aether…”

“Alright, alright,” Aether sighs, pulling out his wallet. The poor thing.

You and Yoimiya share a look as Aether orders food for him and Paimon. You weren’t anticipating that the Traveler—the subject of your predicament—would end up here, out of all the corners and food stalls in Inazuma. Then again, that’s his thing: he’s everywhere, all at once, including the nook and cranny of your heart.

Aether turns to you, a smile blossoming across his face, which is nice, actually, despite the flutter of your heart that is starting to feel like horror. His side profile was driving you crazy, anyway. “Should we leave you two to talk about crushes?”

Just one word directed at you is enough to have you fidgeting uselessly in your seat. And this doesn’t go unacknowledged by Yoimiya, who springs up to save the day. “Don’t worry about it, Traveler! We were just talking about this—this novel that we started reading the other day.”

“Really?” Aether doesn’t sound like he believes it one bit. “Well, Paimon and I have been looking for reading material anyway. Would you mind if we borrowed it?” Said pixie is too busy stuffing her face with Dry-Braised Salted Fish to care about reading materials.

You turn to Yoimiya with a forced smile, then back to Aether, who seems so visibly amused by how you’re acting. You must look like a mess. You feel like it. “Well, I haven’t really finished it…but—but we can tell you about it!”

“Yeah, exactly!” Yoimiya looks like she’s having the time of her life. “Y/N has a big crush on the main character, which is why we were talking about him.”

Aether hums, chewing, “What’s he like?”

Yoimiya narrows her eyes, grinning as she tilts her head. “Why do you want to know?”

Aether levels her with a flat look. It’s a bit strange with you in the middle of them. “Because I want to read the story.”

“We never hear you talk about anything romantic, Y/N!” Paimon says, bits of fish spewing out while she talks. Aether reprimands her. “Whenever Paimon sees you, you’re always working!”

Is that how everyone sees you? “Are you saying you thought I was too boring to experience love?”

Paimon decides to tune out the conversation once again, wolfing down her next plate of food.

Aether’s still looking at you, a smile on his face. No, perhaps a slight smirk would be more accurate. You can feel yourself melting. Perhaps those people were right when they called Aether ‘terrifying’—the swarm of butterflies his gaze is leaving you is downright frightening.

He tilts his head, waiting.

You stammer, “W-Well, the main character’s nothing special. It’s like those things where they make the hero really likable, really…”

Yoimiya butts in, “You just have a thing for guys who have defeated dragons and faced gods head-on. Nothing special.”

“Yoimiya!”

Aether throws his head back laughing.

Yoimiya settles in her seat, looking mildly surprised. “I’ve never seen you this expressive, Traveler.”

You throw Yoimiya a warning look. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve brushed that off, but Yoimiya is clearly hinting at what started your crisis in the first place.

Paimon chugs her water like a madman dying of thirst. “He’s always like that whenever we’re around Y/N. Paimon already told him to stop bullying Y/N!”

Right. Bullying. If only the shared glances and longing stares were bullying. If only Aether lingering in your thoughts was because he’s bullying you, and not because you’re developing a massive crush on him. That would’ve been easier to explain and believe.

“Bullying?” Aether echoes in confusion.

“Flirting might be the more appropriate word for it, Paimon,” Yoimiya corrects with a gleeful grin. “So romantic. Reserving your lovesick and longing smiles to Y/N only,” she sings. “No wonder why you’ve been so happy recently.”

“Yoimiya,” you seethe, though it’s mostly desperate, humiliated. It seems that her name is your only vocabulary this evening.

Aether laughs, his eyes crinkling as he shares your gaze. And if you let yourself believe Yoimiya’s words, you might even call it fond. “You can’t blame me if I can’t help it. Surely that novel taught you what it’s like to have a crush on someone, right, Y/N?”

A/N i love aether so much im sobbing hope u liked reading!!1 bc i cried while writing this!!!! also thank u earthtooz for proofreading i love u big sibling.

[imnameimswrld]

ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ³ ׄ ⑅ DR3 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ just yn living the old money, billionaire life with danny ric by her side.

— PAIRING ੭ daniel ricciardo x billionaire!reader.

— FILE ੭ social media au.

— WARNINGS ੭ none.

— FACE CLAIM ੭ none.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ynusername

liked by danielricciardo, arianagrande, and 5 334 243 others

ynusername here's you guys monthly old money aesthetic update ♡

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user oh you outdid yourself with this one

⤿ user does she take all of these herself ?

⤿ user she does !

user oh to live the old money life

⤿ user I know she's dating daniel ricciardo, but who is she again ?

⤿ user she's yn ln, aka the youngest self-made billionaire ever. she owns multiple companies across the globe, and works in many industries like fashion and cars.

⤿ user damn...slay queen.

⤿ danielricciardo 😍😍

danielricciardo

liked by yukitsunoda0511, oscarpiastri, and 566 445 others

danielricciardo what can't my girl do ?

hint: the answer is "nada" in english.

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user ate.

user mother can do it all.

⤿ landonorris period.

ynusername I can't go a day without your kisses 🥲

⤿ danielricciardo that's not a problem, because you'll never have to baby

ynusername

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, and 3 445 233 others

ynusername my perfection ~

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user my parents slaying yet again

alphatauriracing the best couple 💪

⤿ ynusername 😉

[acey-wacey]

Hi hi! Could I order a scenario of how Jade and Floyd would react to MC hiding behind them because they’re being chased by bullies?? Maybe grabbing onto the tweels (о´∀`о)

I like to think they’d be surprised of someone hiding BEHIND them instead of FROM them lol..

I'm a sucker for platonic tweels! This is my lifeline rn!!

...

Shrimpy Protection Agency

Three of the more troublesome NRC seniors decided that they weren't too pleased with all the attention you were getting, having been in Twisted Wonderland for only a few months.

The students decided to corner you in the hallway, much to your surprise and demand that you apologize for the trouble you've stirred up.

When you refused, they accused you of being disrespectful and threatened to hurt you if you didn't start respecting your upperclassmen.

Through your fear, you managed to slip between the students and make a break for it.

You knew they were older, stronger, and faster than you so you wouldn't be able to outrun them.

Your only hope was to hide.

You frantically searched for a place to hide as you sprinted into the courtyard.

You were hoping someone would be there to stop the upperclassmen from pummeling you but it was empty.

No, not empty.

On the very far side of the courtyard, hidden in the shadows, the Leech twins stood, both looking mildly bored.

"Jade! Floyd!"

They both perked up upon hearing your voice.

What was excitement to see you, quickly became confusion as you ran to them and wrapped your arms around Floyd's torso from the back, shielding yourself from your pursuers.

Jade almost never showed his emotions on his face which made it all the more terrifying when his expression darkened as the bullies followed you to the courtyard.

All three of them stopped in their tracks when they saw the intimidating look on Jade's face, worsened by the wide-eyed and manic Floyd.

It wasn't usual to see either of them, especially Jade, without their signature customer service smile on, even when threatening someone, but when it came to you, there wasn't any pleasantry.

They didn't even try to pretend like your bullies weren't in danger.

"I will give you 5 seconds of silence before I begin my pursuit," whispered Jade, though the attackers heard him loud and clear in the echoey silence of the courtyard.

The one that appeared to be the leader scoffed and nervously chuckled.

"You're just a second-year. I'm not afraid of you. And I sure as he11 wouldn't need a headstart."

"Oh, you misunderstand," Floyd laughed, his eyes still crazed. "Five seconds wouldn't help you for a headstart. We're giving you a chance to pray to every God who'll bother to listen to a pathetic bottom-feeder like you."

"You're monsters!" one of the goons screeched after a few seconds of listening to their panicked breathing. Both twins just smiled in the same unsettling form.

"That bridge was burned a lot time ago, my friend," Jade chuckled menacingly before he went back to staring into the bullies' souls. "5."

"Listen, dude! We were just messing around!"

"4."

"Okay, you're seriously starting to freak me out!"

"Better get on that praying then. 3."

"I'm gonna... tell the headmaster!"

"Oh, I'm so scared. 2."

"Guys, let's get out of here!"

"That little shrimp isn't worth this."

"Only I get to call them that!" Floyd screamed after the goons as they stumbled over themselves to get away.

You could hear the bullies leaving but you still slayed firmly attached to Floyd.

"I'm a touch offended you didn't latch into me that way. Do you trust Floyd more than me?"

You looked up to see Jade smirking at you with his usual calm composure, much opposed to his "predator mode".

"I'm sorry," you sniffled, though you all knew you didn't really mean it. "Next time, I'll hide behind you instead."

"Oh, no, no, no, Shrimpy," Floyd glared at you. You could tell it wasn't directed at you specifically but it was still intimidating. "There's not going to be a next time."

"At least we can agree on that note, brother dearest," Jade mused, brushing a hair behind your ear. "We'll make sure no one will ever mess with you again, Y/N."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, that's a secret," Jade put a finger to his lips and you could see the angry fire behind his eyes.

"You can hug me anytime you want though, Shrimpy!" Floyd chimed in cheerily. You laughed and leaned into his chest.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done with out you," you sighed and grabbed Jade's hand, tugging him into a group hug. "I love you. Both of you."

Jade wasn't usually particularly affection and Floyd didn't often practice restraint but both of them cared enough about you to just smother you in a brotherly hug, as long as it will make you happy.

Jade and Floyd made eye contact over your shoulder, making a silent agreement to break every bone in your bullies' bodies and make it look like an accident.

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back? 

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp. 

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks. 

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man. 

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree." 

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic. 

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. 

All of you got along. 

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day. 

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke. 

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point. 

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

 König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable­—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world.  Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

 My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask. 

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.          

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.